So I Just Used ChatGPT For Feedback For A Writing Piece. Just Pasted The Piece In And Said 'critique

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this is so good and this is such a good series, idk if I can even tell you how many times I'm probs going to reread it from 1 to 3; over and over and over.

The smut (and even the entire lead up to the smut) was hot as hell, like- holy water will not be the saviour for this

A Small Token of Devotion

Part 3 of A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK three-shot

Pairing: Dark!Morpheus x you, afab reader

Warnings: dark!Morpheus, obsessive behaviour, dark!Dream won't take 'no' for an answer, disturbing themes like kidnapping, imprisonment, isolation, psychological torture, non-con/dub-con kissing and touching etc, 18+ only!! Please read: this has DUB-CON with NON-CON elements, read at your own risk :), rough smutty SMUT, probably the filthiest I have ever written,

Inspired by this ask for @roguelov See: https://www.tumblr.com/roguelov/721739134130143232/this-isnt-smut-but-dream-has-strong-miette?source=share

Officially now a three-part series!!! Masterlist here Part 1: Click here Part 2: Click here

Summary: You're still being held against your will by the King Of Dreams, who offers you a deal that you find too good to be true, but are too desperate to refuse.

Breakfast was surprisingly peaceful. After the kiss Dream had stolen in that hallway, he had kept his hands to himself and was seemingly content with watching you eat. And, boy, did you pack it in. You were never hungry while he kept you in your prison, but you had missed it so much that you abandoned all inhibition and ate almost everything within your reach. Fuck if he was observing every move you made – the food was unlike anything you've tasted, and it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Morpheus had escorted you by the hand to the library after, where you were formally introduced to Lucienne, his librarian, who was gracious enough to show you around. He had to leave you in her care while he went away for his duties, and with that, you couldn't be happier – any time away from him was a much-needed respite. Like a madman, you combed through the shelves for your parents' books once Lucienne explained that every dreamer to have existed had one that recorded their dreams. You came up empty-handed, however, so you decided to enlist her help.

"I'm afraid Lord Morpheus has forbidden you access to those books, my lady," she said, eyeing you empathically. "He has not divulged the reason, but it is likely to protect you."

Or likely to sever your connection to the Waking World even further.

You were put out by this, of course. You've been missing your parents terribly since you moved out, even more worried now that they probably realised you'd gone missing for who knows how long. But you weren't about to squander this rare instance of being out of your enclosure by moping. Instead, you found the softest, most comfortable couch in the library and continued reading The Wrongs of a Woman, determined to enjoy this new-found – and possibly short-lived – freedom. You had gone through four chapters, however, but you couldn't seem to concentrate, so you put down the book, thinking it deserved more than a half-hearted reading. You had a plethora of human knowledge at your disposal, and all you could think of was him.

He’d be more than pleased if he’d ever find out.

But Morpheus was away, so if you could learn more about him and his nature, maybe you’d be able to somehow use that to your advantage, eventually. Lucienne was happy to lead you to a rather thin, small leatherbound book that contained knowledge of the Endless, written by a man who was once immortal, which in turn, led you to discover that there were actual immortal humans roaming the earth, and some are friendly with them and the lesser gods. Was Professor Gadling one of them? It wouldn't be too far-fetched, given he had addressed Morpheus by his name and had referred to him as a friend. If you weren't in such distress caused by him, you'd probably be having an existential crisis.

Instead, you had a different crisis at hand, and one in the form of an Endless whose powers you have yet to fully comprehend. You didn't even sit down; right before the bookshelf you plucked the book from, you dug into it at once.

You discovered that there were seven Endless siblings – anthropomorphic personifications – who governed their own realms: Destiny in his garden, Death in her Sunless Lands, Desire in their Threshold and their twin, Despair in her grey Room of Mirrors, and their youngest, Delirium in her realm Formless Chaos. Your interest was piqued further once you got back to the part of Dream of the Endless. While it was rather sparse, the unknown author did his best to jot down the Endless' powers, including crafting dreams, fantasies, and nightmares, and manipulating reality to an extent. The Endless kept endless secrets, it seemed, which was a wonder that the author had that much to write about and put in a book. According to the book, Morpheus went by so many names throughout the passage of time.

"'The Prince of Stories,' huh…" you muttered to yourself. Maybe that was why he appreciated your writing.

"I'm quite flattered you are trying to get to know me, my beloved, but you could've just asked."

The amused voice made you turn on your heels, only to come face to face with the Endless himself looking down on you with a teasing grin merely inches away from you. You did your best to keep your cheeks from heating up at the closeness and stared at a spot on his collar instead.

"Sorry," you muttered. "It's just…it's a nice moniker."

 "Is it?" He dipped his head lower, hovering over your ears, and whispered languidly, "Then, would you allow this prince's mouth to carve stories on your skin?"

To prevent any thoughts of getting away, he placed his hands firmly on the shelf behind you and trapped you between his arms. You stood perfectly still, but you shivered visibly when one of his hands started stroking your spine and the laced ribbon at the back of your dress. Those lips then ghosted over your neck.

"We have been apart for not more than half a day and I already miss you," he whispered in the most dulcet of tones against your skin, leaving goosebumps all over your arm. "Surely you know how you have bewitched me, and I am nothing short of spellbound…"

Then he growled just as those lips touched your skin. You haven't done anything wrong!

"Forgive me, my beloved, I am being called somewhere else." He said as he pulled away. You could tell by his furrowed brows and curled lip that he was annoyed at the interruption. "You are to stay here in the library until I come and fetch you. I need not warn you: any attempt to escape is futile and will be dealt with harshly."

You managed to let out the breath you were holding in when he disappeared with his sand. You could see from the windows that the sky had darkened, immediately followed by a resounding clap of thunder. Despite his threat, you were extremely grateful to anyone and anything that called him at that very moment, even if that meant they would be facing an irate King in the process. Besides, where else did he think you'd escape to?

***

Dream had been fuming when he arrived at the disturbance. His foul mood had inadvertently summoned a thunderstorm that flooded the basements of half the townsfolk in the process, which exacerbated the issue he had been called for: a farmer had poured an entire vat of untested growth potion on a pumpkin patch, which grew at an alarming rate the moment the brew hit the soil. The heavy rains that the thunderstorm had brought made the plant even happier, which in turn started to produce elephant-sized pumpkins within seconds. Dream had to reel in his emotions to prevent these giant pumpkins from taking over fourteen acres of land, which took a great amount of his time. By the time the situation had been under control, Dream was soaking wet, positively irked, and achingly longing to be back with you. The farmer and the owner of the apothecary who had sold the potion had to endure quite an earful from him, and they deserved every venomous word of it, for taking his time away from you.

It was dark when Morpheus reappeared at the library. Had you gone off to sleep without him? The thought made his heart sink; he had not meant to threaten you just before he left, although he admittedly would punish you if you dared wander off with the intention of running away from him – he could not have that, of course. He scoured the library shelves for you, already fearing the worst, but just as his anger started resurfacing, he found a sight that immediately calmed his inner turmoil:

There you were, on a couch just beside the spot where he had left you earlier, fast asleep with a book spread on your chest.

You had waited for him.

Slowly he made his approach, careful not to rouse you, and softly kissed your forehead. He took the book from your grasp, surprised that it was the same book he had caught you reading. You were reading about him, and that elated him to no end, even if it was a little dampened at the fact that he found the book opened on the page about his golden-eyed, meddlesome little sibling. He tossed the book to the table, then proceeded to carry you like his bride (and he knows you will be, very soon) to his bedroom, and laid you on the soft silken sheets that covered his bed. You had not stirred the entire time, perhaps savouring the only soft surface you had laid on since your stay in his realm. He decided he liked the look of you laying on your side, curled up on his bed very much.

You needed to accept him soon so he could have you on it anytime he pleased.

On impulse, Morpheus went inside your head and combed through every single memory you had. He was only getting to know you further, just like what you did reading the book that contained knowledge of him. You were eventually going to be his wife, and what kind of husband would he be if he did not make an effort to familiarise himself with his future bride's innermost thoughts and desires?

Satisfied with what he witnessed, Dream sighed in relief as he gently laid down beside you. He was tired – of course, he needed to rest, and it was his bed. He craved warmth, too, and your body just happened to be a great source of it, so he drew closer to you, his chest touching your back, and snaked an arm from behind you, wrapping it around your sleeping form. He dared not close his eyes, for he feared you would tear away from him as soon as he did. There, he laid still, perfectly content, for hours.

There was nowhere else he would rather be.

***

The first thing you became aware of when you came to wasn't the softness of the bed you were laying on, but an unyielding arm around your waist and a firm body pressed snugly against your back, purring happily like a large cat.

He seemed to notice that you'd woken up too, for he started dragging his nose from your head to your hair and inhaling your scent deeply. Recognizing how precarious your situation was, you tried to even your breathing out and pretend you were still sleeping, silently praying to anyone who would listen that he buys the act and loses interest.

Then that damn hand moved slowly downwards, then started hiking up your dress all the way to your thighs.

No such luck.

Still, you had to try. You held up pretty well, even as he turned you on your back and proceeded to straddle your hips. You tried your best not to twitch while he gripped your chin to turn your head to the side and a hot tongue licked your cheek. You squirmed slightly just as his mouth found your pulse point and sucked your skin heavily. You whimpered a little while he dragged his hands all over your still-clothed body and you felt him shift slightly.

But you drew a line when you felt him part your legs and settle between them.

You opened your eyes with a startled yelp and flailed your arms wildly, hitting his chest, but he grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand, deep chuckling as he did so.

"I see you have decided to forgo the act, my little saviour. As impressive as it was, I could hear and feel your heartbeat. You could never fool me."

You look up to those intense, dark blue eyes and those lips, curled upward in a malicious grin. True enough, your heart was racing and your breathing had quickened, but you tried your hardest to wrench your hands from his grip. It didn't work.

"Please, g-get o-off me…" you started begging.

But Dream merely hummed as his body inched closer to yours. Your terror only amplified when you felt something hard brush over the mound between your legs. You were still clothed, thank goodness, but your dress had been dragged so far up your legs you could feel the cold air on your inner thighs. Egged on by how you reacted, his hips pushed further against you, and you watched his eyes shift into black for a split second before they became blue again.

Of course, the bastard was enjoying this.

As deeply disturbed as you were, you felt a hot wetness gush between your legs, and you started to ache the slightest. And judging by his widened smirk, he knew.

"Do you find me unattractive?" He asked.

"What?" You were a bit surprised by how casual his tone was. "No, of course, you're…aesthetically pleasing… "

"Then why do you refuse me so?"

"I just don't want to, okay?" You burst out. "I don't have to justify my choice, least of all to you. Now, please!"

Halting his movement altogether, he donned a look of contemplation. "Have you laid with anyone?"

A blush started creeping up your cheeks at his question, so you pointedly avoided his stare. "Why the hell would I tell you that?!"

He tutted and said, "My little saviour, this is an open conversation that lovers usually partake in prior to being intimate." He firmly gripped your chin to turn your head and force you to look at him, his expression now serious.

"Now I ask again: has anyone laid claim on you?"

You gave a small nod, next thing you knew was a firm hand around your throat, squeezing it just enough to make you start gasping for air.

"You lie." Dream's eyes were blazing and his teeth were bared in a furious snarl.

He was right – you had lied on impulse. To your defence, you did it only in the hopes of him being disgusted that you weren't as pure as he thought. The truth was, while you had the occasional fling here and there, none of them ever progressed to anything sexual. And he knew, for some reason. You couldn't get his hand off your throat, for he still had yours pinned above your head.

"Morpheus, please…" you choked.

He said through gritted teeth, "Lie to me again and I will personally torment every single one of your past flames with nightmares until their death."

Tears started to stream through your eyes, and it was getting more difficult to say a single word as you struggled to breathe.

"Please…I-I'm s-sorry…" you managed to let out.

You gulped greedily for air as soon as he eased the pressure, but his hand remained around your neck, and it was evident that he was still unappeased. You didn't give a damn, however; you were now crying in earnest and genuinely frightened of him even more so than the nightmare you'd seen him transform into.

"I know everything about you. I combed through every thought, every repressed memory, every dream and every nightmare."

Then, what was the point of asking, you thought. You could've said it aloud too, but you were far too scared out of your wits to even stop your tears from flowing freely.

He must've acknowledged your distress, for he slowly released your throat and gently wiped your cheek with his finger.

"I am already aware of your purity. I merely asked because I trusted you enough to tell me the truth, as lovers should," he said softly as he continued stroking your cheek, perhaps to ease your discomfort.

"Fuck you, we're not lovers," you summoned the courage to whisper as your sobs died down. Fear was overtaken by irrational anger – you were fed up with his bullshit. You looked him in the eye with all the disdain you could muster as you whispered, "You think I could love you when you keep torturing me just so you could have your way? I will never accept you."

And honestly, you didn't know what scared you more: the nightmarish being with madness contorted in its features, or the stoic, oddly-calm Nightmare King pinning you down with eyes you could no longer read.

"Still as obstinate as ever, I see."

In a swift move, he removed himself from you and vanished. Before you could relish the freedom, you sat up when you felt grains of sand cloud your vision, and your entire surroundings faded to black. Within seconds, there was nothing more you could see, and everything was enveloped in darkness, including the bed you were on.

You simply floated in the vast nothingness.

"Allow me to remind you, my little saviour: I am the King of Dreams, and you are my prisoner." Your captor's voice echoed all around you, sending waves of panic through every cell in your body. Even the darkness paled in comparison to the fear his voice instilled.

"I have been patient, yet you insist on defying me. Perhaps, a reminder is due. It is time I showed you torture."

Then began the fall.

You fell into the endless darkness, unable to scream nor break the descent. You fell at an increasingly faster pace into nothing, weightless, your heart racing and your skin being blasted by the cold. Just when you thought you were going to pass out, you land safely, feet-first, like the fall never happened, and in a place that looked so achingly familiar.

You were in your parents' kitchen.

You have not been in this kitchen in a long time, but it looked as similar as the day you left. It was a bittersweet farewell, that day, you, your mom and dad celebrating your new job and telling each other you'd call and visit whenever you can. On the fridge door, you recognized the drawings being held in place by those little vegetable magnets – you made them when you were little, and since then, they have refused to remove them. They've always been proud of you, they said, as you packed your bags to head for your apartment and live your own life the way you wanted it. You didn't know until then just how much you needed to hear it from them.

A pained sob interrupted your reminiscing. It came from the dining room, so you made your way inside, your footsteps not making a single sound on the hardwood floor.

"Mom? Dad?" You called out.

Your mom sat on the end of the dining table, hunched over and visibly shaking, as your dad sat opposite her and quietly held both her hands. Behind the both of them, hung on the wall, was this large abstract painting you didn't care much about as a child but have grown to like as a teen. It didn't escape your notice that the table was strewn over with papers. You picked one up against your better judgement.

It was a photo of you taken the night you took them out to dinner with your first paycheck. Right on top of your picture were the words, printed in large, bold letters:

'MISSING.'

You put it back down at once, not bothering to read the rest. You were back! Did they not hear you?

Your mom let out a wail that would break anyone's heart. Your dad stood to hold her in his arms. He too, had tears streaming down his face, trying to comfort his wife as he nursed his own grief.

"I-I just w-want my b-baby back," your mom cried out in between sobs as she held onto your dad as if her life depended on it. "My po-oor baby, my sweet little girl, I want her back, Harold. Please, God, bring her back to me…"

"I'm here, I'm back!" You said, louder this time. Perhaps they didn't hear you.

She buried her face in your dad's shirt, and he kissed the top of her head. It did nothing to soothe her.

"We will, Martha, I promise," your dad said softly. "If we have to sell the house to continue finding her, we will. I'll sell everything we have, we'll sleep in the car, it doesn't matter."

Your mom nodded her head and gulped before she replied "I just miss her so much…"

"I do, too, honey. Every damn day.”

“This is my fault. This is all my fault, I let her leave,” your mom rambled on. “I could’ve stopped her, but I didn’t. I failed her –” 

“No, you didn’t. If anything, it was my fault. But we will find her, and then we'll apologise, yes?" Your dad cupped our mom's cheeks and brought his forehead to hers. "We'll tell her every minute of every day just how much we miss her, and we'll never let her feel alone or unloved until our last breath, you hear me?"

Your mom managed a nod before she broke once more into agonised tears.

"But, I'm here!" You had tears streaming from your eyes as you screamed. They were falling apart without you, but you were back. You came back!

"I'm right fucking here!" You took a step forward so you could give them both a hug and assure them that you'll never leave their side again, but something in the painting behind them moved, making you halt your steps.

It was a pair of ocean-blue eyes that blinked, now staring into your soul, spanning the width of the entire painting – the last thing you see before the hardwood floor gave out beneath your feet and fell, once more, into the abyss.

You woke up with a start, sitting up almost at once, as you tried to calm your heart's incessant beating and relive the cause: it was a nightmare – one of many – of grief you couldn't understand, followed by an irrational fear of a pair of beautiful, ocean-blue eyes, before you were thrown into a pit of darkness with nothing to break your fall.

It was quite humorous in hindsight, given that you've lived many millennia in the most terrifying place in Creation, and one too, that countless souls dread ending up in the most. 

The crackling of Hellfire in your cramped enclosure proved almost comforting, even if it was always so close to licking your skin. It provided almost ample protection against the bitter cold that seemed to seep into your bones, but you have learned to live with the stark contrast both provided. Better than being thrown directly onto the mass of hideous, mangled writhing demons at the pit of Morningstar's court. The cold, you could live with; the torture and the screaming, maybe not so much.

You stood from the jagged surface of the cave just as you felt the air around you shift. It hadn't been caused by that dreadful demon that had just passed your door, but by a powerful presence you had not felt in aeons, and which you’d never thought you’d ever feel again.

True enough, it was him: he walked right before your enclosure adorned with those large, thorny branches trapping you in and sealing your fate:

“Kai’ckul?”

You couldn’t believe your eyes, even after he stopped in his tracks the moment you called for him out loud. You were breathing heavily, now, as you walked up to your barred entrance to get a better look at him.

“Dream Lord?” You called again.

You could not help the gasp you let out the moment he acknowledged your call and faced you. He had the same brown eyes that conveyed a thousand emotions in a single flash, those thick locks you had once caressed with your fingertips, those soft, full lips you had once kissed with all the passion your mortal heart could muster…

“It is you…” you said with awe in your voice. He was just as beautiful as the day he sent you to your eternal damnation.

“I greet you, Nada.” He responded softly with that velvety voice that had once whispered such amorous words in ears the night you both gave in to your earthly desires. Yet, today, it was sombre – melancholic, even. What could have brought him here after so long? Perhaps, you dared hope, he’d come to say he had changed his mind? Has he come to finally release you from your endless torment, like you have dreamed he would for countless cold nights in your prison cell?

“Kai’ckul,” you said, your voice and the tears that brimmed your eyes betraying that little bit of joy that blossomed from seeing him again. Your beautiful king. “How I have prayed for this day. I knew you would come.”

With a doleful expression, he stated, “It pains me to see you like this.”

Does it? “Then, free me, Lord.” Your tears finally fell down your cheeks. All those words you had imagined yourself saying to him, some of them hurtful, some of them outright offensive — all of them erased by the weariness of carrying out his righteous punishment. “Only your forgiveness can free me.”

But he had no response, only a tightening of those lips, his eyes growing more guarded and unyielding.

“Do you not still love me?” You asked. Perhaps if he still did, he would be merciful?

"It has been ten thousand years, Nada."

Yes, it has been. An awfully, excruciatingly long time and a reminder wasn't needed.

"Yes, I still love you."

Hope blossomed in your heart at his words, but it was just as soon dampened by his next.

"But I have not yet forgiven you."

You looked away just as more tears started to flow. Even after those years, his heart was as cold and unrelenting as ever. Yours, however, remained steadfast, despite the continuous onslaught of coldness and hostility he and this place had for you, there was something else that helped keep your sanity and dignity intact.

He began to walk away and commanded his raven to follow. Your grip on your prison bars tightened as you called after him.

"Kai'ckul, I will not give up hope."

But he had gone too far away for you to hear his footfalls.

"I will never give up!" But was that meant for him or for you?

Your voice broke at your statement, and so do the sobs. You sank into the chilly, uneven surface of your enclosure and hugged yourself, seeking some sort of comfort. Your heart refused to be crushed. Ten more millennia could pass, and you'd still have hope that one day, you will walk on soft, warm grass and breathe fresh, sulphur-free air, and you'd travel hand in hand with Death to ferry you to your peace. You'd forgive him wholeheartedly, should he seek it from you. You loved him.

So, how come the moment you closed your eyes to rest, only one foreign thought crossed your mind and reverberated in your heart?

You don't love him and you never will.

***

Dream never tore his onyx eyes away from you when the nightmares began.

He was admittedly livid. You had dared lie to him in the face and once again refused his advances; on top of that, you had dared insinuate that he had hurt you? He would not have it. He could never hurt you, much less torture you – but he also was not above showing you what could happen to you should you go on defying him like so.

He had not meant to show you Nada's predicament, truth be told. It was a last-minute decision, but he had not in his entire Endless life encountered such blatant, insulting refusal. The venomous words you had uttered to him on his bed would have garnered a far more agonising punishment than he had given his former lover, if it had not been for the fact that it was your kindness that had once helped save him from an aimless existence. Your words felt like a slap to his face, sure, but he knew you did not deserve such a cruel sentence.

By the end of the nightmare, you had been writhing on his bed, as if in pain, and crying profusely. You were muttering in your slumber, calling out for your parents in despair. He gradually allowed the effects of the nightmare to wane to let you breathe and he knew you were drifting in and out of sleep, even though you had not realised. 

"I'm sorry, Mom and Dad," he heard you whisper, half-awake, clutching the sheets beneath you and weeping softly. "I couldn't be a better daughter. I miss you guys so much. I wish I hadn't moved out so soon…if I stayed, I would still be with you and I wouldn't be here…"

Then you proceeded to toss to your side and curl into a foetal position, hugging your knees in want of comfort.

Dream's heart ached at the sight. How could it not? Despite your continued rejection of him, he truly loved you enough for him to feel your pain on a physical level. Deciding to put an end to your suffering, he approached your trembling body and planted a kiss on your head, and took away with him the effects of the potent nightmare he had given you. He had had enough, and the way your sobbing ceased and your breathing evened out gave him some sort of relief. He then replaced the nightmares with fond memories of your parents and even crafted a dream where you were once more back to your old job, writing what you pleased.

As he sat on the edge of the mattress and stroked your hair, his thoughts drifted to your parents. Although they had raised you the best they could, he could not help but criticise the way they initially pressured you into excellence the moment you showed potential. Not that he was a perfect parent, himself; his own son perished and he had a hand in it somehow. Loathe as he was to admit, your mother and father loved you with all their hearts and had been severely affected by your disappearance. He knew about their tireless efforts of trying to locate you, as futile as it may be. If you had been amenable to a proper courtship and accepted his initial offer, he would've introduced himself to them and formally asked them for your hand, but he brushed that thought aside. There was no point dwelling on what could have been.

You needed rest from the lingering effects of the nightmares. He had no regrets showing you that dream of your parents, even if he hated your reaction to it. Content with the punishment he gave you, he went off to work.

He had a proposal to plan, and a wayward sibling to visit.

***

You were still shaking slightly as you climbed the stairs leading to a balcony far up the castle, just like the note you had found on the nightstand instructed when you woke. It was an after-effect of the nightmares you had last night, you suspected. Your attendant, who was leading you to the designated meeting place, had even taken pity on you and allowed you to wear flats instead of the heels that the dress you were supposed to wear came with. Your legs almost gave way as soon as you arrived and saw him.

Your jailer and tormentor.

Dream of the Endless sat on a round table filled with an assortment of breakfast pastries in a basket, leaning comfortably on his straight-backed wrought-iron chair. His gaze was far away into the view the balcony provided, but his eyes shifted as soon as your attendant announced your arrival.

You couldn't even make eye contact with him as you sat on the only remaining chair, and you could feel those intense blues bore right into your soul. A memory of them blinking on an abstract painting made you shudder inwardly.

"Eat, my beloved," he commanded. "We are to discuss an important matter when you finish."

Your attendant poured coffee into your cup and promptly placed herself inconspicuously on the corner, likely anticipating the needs of her king. Wordlessly, you picked up your cutlery and began to eat, even if you had absolutely no appetite. You picked a danish, purposefully avoiding the baguette on the basket and even giving it a glare like it was its fault you landed in this predicament. Instead tried to enjoy the coffee, which admittedly, was a thousand times better than any coffee you had ever tasted in the Waking. He watched you the entire time, his kingly posture only shifting once you put down your knife and fork and pushed your plate away. 

On cue, the attendant took the plates and the bread basket away, leaving your cup of coffee, and disappeared for good. You waited with bated breath for whatever he had to say.

"Next time you wish to cry 'torture,' remember that I have been nothing but gracious and merciful despite your continued defiance."

Ah, so he was still bitter about what you said last night.

"Nada." You blurted out, totally unprompted. Morpheus narrowed his eyes a little at the mention of the name.

"What about her?"

You squirmed in your seat at his biting tone. But he was the one who showed you the dream – you had the right to know.

"What did you do to her?"

"What I refuse to do with you: sentence you to Hell for defying me."

Curt as his response was, it chilled you to the bone. He sent a woman to that horrible place just because she rejected him? 

"And my parents?" Your voice almost broke at the question, as memories of them grieving over your disappearance flooded your mind. "Why would you show me all of that?"

"I take it you miss your parents."

"Was that dream real?" You asked, your voice solemn. "Did it…did it really happen?"

"Yes."

They were losing the house just so they could keep searching for you. The thought of them homeless, sleeping on the streets in the bitter cold, made tears gather at the corner of your eyes and spill. You couldn't control them any longer, because you knew, no matter what they did, they would never find you.

"Their determination to find their beloved daughter is admirable. It is such a pity their search is futile,"  he said, mirroring your thoughts.

Amidst your tears, you shot him a reproachful look at the way he rubbed your mother and father's predicament on your face. You quietly wiped them away with your knuckles as you watched a ghost of a grin appear on his lips.

Jackass.

"Which is why I have decided to release you back into the Waking World."

His words made you stare at him in disbelief. It couldn’t be, perhaps you misheard him.

“I will allow your return to the Waking, to your parents, and to your old life,” he repeated, perhaps for your sake.

You blinked at him, twice, to make sure you weren't hearing things. He made no move to correct his words, but knowing him, anything he offered you came at a price that could very well cost you your soul.

"Why would you do that?" You asked slowly.

His smile grew to a smirk – this was an offer you already knew you wouldn't like. He straightened his posture and spoke with all the authority a king such as him could possess.

"Because you will marry me," he said with conviction. "You and I will be wed and you will wear a ring to symbolise your devotion to me as my wife and my queen. If you submit to me fully – heart, body and soul – on the night of our wedding, I will arrange a new life for you: one where you live your old life in the Waking World during the day, and come home to me and fulfil your duties to me as my wife, and to my Kingdom as its queen, during the night."

Surely your brain has short-circuited – you gaped at him openly in your shock. He seemed to grow amused with your expression by the glint in his eyes, but you could also tell he was dead serious.

"Something I said, little saviour?"

You opened your mouth to speak, thinking you could easily say 'Yes, go fuck yourself, thank you very much,' but instead, you ended up with, "You're letting me go, seriously?"

He nodded once and firmly responded, "If you become my wife in every sense of the word, yes."

Realising you still had a bit of coffee in your cup, you downed the tepid liquid all in one gulp. You couldn't help but wonder if it was proper to ask for something a little stronger.

 "But, how would that work?" You then asked, choosing your words carefully. "I'd be married to you, but then you'll let me go? I find that too good to be true."

"You will simply divide your time between my realm and the Waking."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you will, my beloved," he said, his tone growing more amused with your increasingly suspicious expression. "But I assure you, it will not be any different compared to merely sleeping and waking."

You leaned back against your chair to stare at the blue sky and contemplate. He clearly has put a lot of thought into his offer, but there were other factors that needed to be addressed.

"I can't be a queen. I don't know anything about being one! I'm just a human, I have no royal blood, I have no training –"

He interrupted your rambling with an impatient flick of his hand. "Your stature matters not to me. You already possess the heart of a queen in my eyes. There is no one else I find more worthy."

He meant it as a compliment, but even that didn't ease your worries. "What would I tell them when I get back? I can't just go missing and then reappear as if nothing happened…"

You imagined there would be so many questions from so many people; where you've gone, why you left, how you got back – all of them posed challenging to formulate believable responses to.

Morpheus raised an eyebrow at you. "You have read the book, have you not? I can manipulate reality to an extent. I can make it so as if you never left the Waking. Your disappearance will seem but a nightmare to them, and one that they shall forget in time, as they do most dreams."

"And that is if…I willingly marry you."

Once more, he nodded. "I will, however, require nothing but complete surrender." This time, he leaned forward and placed his clasped hands on the table, continuing, "And, know this, my beloved: if there is but a small amount of unwillingness in your heart, I would know, and everything I offered will be forfeited. As such, you shall stay in my realm forever and will never be allowed to set foot in the Waking."

This made you raise your eyebrow back at him. He's really not leaving anything to chance. "What if I decline your offer?"

Surprisingly, he was rather nonchalant about it. He tilted his head slightly and said, "It is of no consequence to me, but you leave your world wanting of your presence. I, in turn, shall simply continue our…unconventional courtship."

You had no response to that. Everything he has so far offered you has been to his advantage, leaving you very much the disadvantaged party. Damned if you said yes, damned anyway if you didn't. You stared blankly at nothing, chewing the insides of your cheek in indecision. He must've taken pity on you, for he decided to break the silence.

"You need time to consider my proposal, I understand. I will leave you to it. I have duties to attend to for the day. In the meantime, you are free to roam the palace grounds. You need only seek me should you come to a decision."

He stood from his chair, straightening his coat, and approached your side. He bent down so he could whisper somberly close to your ear.

"Mind this, my beloved: the longer you tarry, the longer your parents suffer your absence."

You were about to come up with something to retort, but instead, you caught a mouthful of sand. He had disappeared, off to fuck-knows-where, and left you alone to make an important decision. Once you coughed out the last of the sand, you rubbed your face with your hand and groaned in frustration.

Returning to your parents, and to your old life, in exchange for marriage to none other than your captor. You’d be forever bound to him as his wife, and while you’d continue living the charade that would be your life back in the waking, you’d come to him by nightfall and he’d do with you as he pleased. And even if you refused his offer, he’d also likely do with you as he pleased. Every day, you’d pretend as if all was well in your world while being slapped repeatedly with a reality involving a husband that just might send you to the fiery pits on a mere whim.

If you refused, your mother and father would continue their fruitless search, ruining their lives and breaking their hearts forever in the process. They’d blame themselves for your disappearance until the end, unaware of your fate that this cosmic being has selfishly tied with his.

You fought the urge to vomit what little breakfast you ate with one thing on your mind: did he ever really give you a choice?

***

It was sundown in the Dreaming when you arrived before the massive doors of Dream’s throne room.

You’d been sauntering about aimlessly in his castle, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time, until you reached these doors. On a regular day, your parents would be having tea at this time, your dad probably reading the paper for the fifth time, and your mom probably playing a jewel-matching game on her phone. Idle, comfortable, safe. You hoped they’d still be doing the same, but that would be wishful thinking.

That was precisely why you had made up your mind.

The doors opened without your prompting, which you took as a sign to step forward, heading straight to that tall, all-black-clad king standing at the foot of the stairs leading to his throne.

He had been waiting for you.

His eyes were burning in anticipation as soon as you got close enough to see. And those same eyes glowed with the stars it held, utterly victorious as you said ‘yes.’

Better you suffered forever than your own mother and father.

“What happens now?” you asked solemnly, trying not to feel thoroughly defeated. Morpheus approached you with an air of perverse delight as his eyes twinkled.

“I believe we are to be wed.”

Your heart began to beat faster at the realisation. “What, like, now?”

“Yes, my beloved,” he dipped his head closer to yours as he breathed, his eyes half-lidded and focused only on you. “At this very moment, we can be wed, right here. We need only utter our vows to each other, as husband and wife, and a witness, to make it official.”

Trying not to panic and failing hard, you stammered, “W-wait, I thought there were preparations, like an officiator – “

“We have no need for an officiator,” he interrupted. “I answer to no authority but my own. Matthew,” he called the name louder, and the sound of flapping wings echoed in the throne room, followed by a raven landing on the floor before the both of you.

“You called, sir?”

You blinked twice to make sure that you hadn't gone mad. Did Matthew the Raven just speak?

“Call for Lucienne,” he told Matthew, like a talking raven was the most normal thing in the world. Maybe it was; you were in the Dreaming, after all, where anything is possible, including marriage to a cosmic being that ripped you from a life that you belatedly realised you actually liked. “Tell her it is for an urgent matter.”

"I know you," you addressed the raven, whose attention immediately was on you. "You pecked at my gla – "

"My beloved, this is Matthew, my raven," Dream cut you off again, this time, with just a little hint of impatience in his voice. Dream curtly introduced you to the raven, who promptly ruffled his feathers and dipped his head at you in a polite bow. "Formal introductions can be made later. Go, Matthew."

"On my way, boss. Nice to meet you, my lady, and congratulations!" Matthew once again bowed at the both of you, and you watched him as he took flight and disappeared.

A cold hand laced around yours, and you turned to see him bring it close to his lips to kiss your knuckles, all while staring intensely into your eyes. Like ice-cold water being splashed right in your face, it hit you: this cold, cruel, hungry eldritch nightmare was going to be your husband pretty soon.

Maybe you could run fast, and maybe when you do you'd run into a portal that'll take you back to your world and he won't be able to catch you…

But the pained faces of your parents stopped you from taking your hand away and heading for the hills.

The doors swung open, revealing Lucienne, who strode to her king with a worried look on her face. She sent a curious look at your still-linked hands before addressing her king.

"My lord, is something the matter?"

"Nothing so worrying, Lucienne," he replied in a lilting tone. "I called to ask you this: will you, and in addition, Matthew, grant us this honour of bearing witness to our vows of marriage?"

Lucienne's expression changed from worry to surprise, adjusting her glasses as she clarified, "Sir? You're getting married? Right now? I mean, congratulations are in order, and to you, and my lady," she dipped her head in a small bow at you, which you returned with a shy grimace. "But may I ask why you would settle for such a humble ceremony? Shouldn't there be a feast, a gathering of representatives from all the other realms?"

Morpheus made a point of using your hand to pull you closer to his side with a grin. "Make no mistake, Lucienne: I will not deny my kingdom, and all the realms in the universe, the honour of celebrating the new and rightful queen of the Dreaming, but the festivities are of lesser priority. Now, I have a beautiful bride before me." He turned to face you, lightly caressing your cheek with his fingers as he continued, "I loathe to keep her waiting."

Perhaps touched at his loving declaration, Lucienne placed her palm on her chest and smiled fondly at the display. "Of course, my lord. It would be the greatest honour."

"Yeah, boss, go get her!" Matthew cheered from the top of the arches in the ceiling.

Oh, he's almost got you, alright.

"Very well. We shall begin." He declared with finality. His eyes glowed silver for a split-second, just as you felt the clothes on your body shift: you peeked down to see that he had dressed you in a sleeveless, all-white satin gown hugging your every curve, tied at either shoulder with only a satin ribbon. By the way scanned your figure and nodded to himself appreciatively, you could tell he liked how it looked on you. Maybe he fancied how pure you looked in it.

When he's done with you, would you still be?

Morpheus clasped both your hands in his, his eyes solely on yours, as he kissed your left hand and whispered your name against it.

"Will you take me, Dream of the Endless, as your eternal husband? Do you pledge your trust, your devotion, your heart, and your soul to me?"

Do it for Mom and Dad, you repeated in your head over and over.

"I do," you responded faintly.

The throne room is dead silent, as both your witnesses seemed to be holding their breaths just as you were, but the eyes of your almost-husband screamed triumphantly as he released your hands and waved a finger. A silver ring, adorned with a ruby, appeared floating in your midst, which he then plucked from mid-air.

"Then you shall take this ring," he went on, as placed the ring on your finger. The jewel's blood-red colour faded to white the moment it touched your skin. "A symbol of my endless vow: that to you, I offer protection, loyalty, and love, until I am Endless no more. From this day forth, I claim you as my wife, and we are bound together until the end of days."

The ring now rested ominously on your finger, without a trace of red, and was the heaviest piece of jewellery you had ever worn. It felt as if it was burning your skin, even though it gave off no heat. It made you want to scream and tear your hair out.

Your husband's eyes now bore on yours with a dark, jubilant look, just as sinister as the ring he just used to bind you to him for eternity. An impatient-sounding squawk from above alerted you both to your witnesses' presence. Morpheus smirked in amusement despite the interruption.

"Matthew, would you care to do the honours?"

"Hell yeah!" Came his raven's response. "You may now kiss the bride, boss!"

As soon as the words were said, he cupped your cheeks and placed his lips on yours. It was soft, short, even loving, by normal human wedding standards, and then he let go, and proclaimed to the entire realm:

"We are now officially husband and wife, my precious little saviour."

He brought his forehead to yours, ignoring the way your lip trembled at his statement.

"I have been wanting this for so long."

The sound of clapping, wings flapping and cheering echoed in the throne room, just as his sand wrapped around your figure and took you somewhere hauntingly familiar. The sight of that massive bed in the dark, covered in silk midnight sheets, was enough to send your heartbeat soaring through the roof.

There was only one reason he could've brought you here.

You let out a startled gasp as a pair of cold hands fell on your shoulders. You turned around and backed as far away from the bed as you could, to find Morpheus standing where you were seconds ago, clad in a different, shorter robe with a tie around his waist. He seemed to have nothing else underneath.

"Have I startled you, my beloved wife?" He asked softly, his eyes shining in the dark and his silhouette glowing in the moonlight from the open balcony. He held out a pale hand and said, "Come to your husband."

Aside from bunching the fabric of your dress near your thighs, you made no move whatsoever.

"Come to me this instant."

His low, commanding tone sent warning signals, darkening the atmosphere of the room even further. You took a few tentative steps to where he was, stopping only when he was at arm's length. He, however, closed the distance, dipped his head to yours, and whispered, "Kiss me."

Using a finger, he traced your jawline slowly, down to your neck, lingering at your shoulder where the ribbon of your dress was. His touch immediately gave you goosebumps.

"Please," you whispered shakily. You wanted to beg for him to stop, but his lips were on yours even before you could formulate the words.

The kisses you previously shared with him paled in comparison. This was different: it was as if he longed to suck the soul out of you. His tongue chased yours, and he nipped at your lower lip when you refused to respond. His hands were on your waist and the back of your neck, preventing you from pulling away. You couldn't make a sound except the whimpering from the back of your throat, yet he drowned it all out by syphoning the air out of you. With a final peck on your swollen lips, he pulled away. As he did, you got a full glimpse of his eyes: half-lidded, dark, wanting; it terrified you to no end. Then he threw you off with his next order:

"Disrobe me."

You took ragged breaths as your hands crept up to the knot around his waist, but you were shaking so much you couldn't do anything to it. He held your hands steady and guided you, and the knot came off in no time. He then brought them to his chest, where the robe was slipping – that, too, came off, and there he was, your husband, totally bared before you. Heat spread on your cheeks as you stared pointedly at that sculpted chest, refusing to look anywhere else.

Morpheus hummed lowly as he brought his lips to your ear.

"Have you ever worshipped an all-powerful being? Let me show you how. On your knees for me, my love." He gripped your shoulders and pushed down lightly to encourage you. Your stomach churned as soon as you realised what he wanted you to do.

"Morpheus, please…" you begged as you tried to get those hands off you, but he wasn't having it.

"I command you to kneel before your king and husband," he growled.

You could feel the tears surfacing as you did what you were told, so you closed your eyes so they wouldn't. You were, after all, doing this for the people you loved. You'd be free after this night is over.

"Eyes on me, my wife."

So you opened them to find yourself face to face with a huge, fully erect cock – his hand cupped your face, his thumb caressing your cheek as if he was trying to soothe you.

It did nothing of the sort.

So you pleaded with him again.

"Please, Dream…I can't do this, please," was all your shaky voice could muster. But you found no pity in his eyes; just overwhelming desire.

"Yes, you can. Open your mouth, love."

 The thumb that caressed your cheek made its way inside your mouth.

"You want your life back, yes?" He asked, as his thumb drew circles on your tongue. You nodded in response.

"Good." He smirked. "You will have to work for it. Now, I want my pretty wife's pretty little mouth wrapped around me."

So for the sake of your freedom, you swallowed that lump in your throat and allowed him to push his hard cock inside your mouth.

He tasted faintly sweet, faintly salty and musky. Above you, he groaned in satisfaction at the contact and bucked his hips to push his cock further. You closed your eyes, involuntary tears streaming down your face, as he reached your throat; he was too much, his size was more than what you could handle, and he wasn't even fully in.

A hand bunched your hair and tugged lightly.

"I said, eyes on me, wife," he commanded, his voice straining slightly in pleasure. "I want your full attention as I take your mouth."

So you looked up into those dark, lustful eyes, placed your hands on his thighs, and began to suck him off.

It was a slow pace at first, given you hadn't done anything like this before, but as you swirled your tongue around his thickness and felt it throb inside your mouth, something in you bubbled, making you rub your thighs together. He seemed to notice this, for his parted lips curled in a mischievous smile, and began to thrust forward as you bobbed your head downward to take him in.

"You're doing so well, my love…" he praised as you continued to suck and lick him.

Disgust filled you, but there was something else, too.

He was panting as he quicked his movements, and while he kept your head in place with both hands so he could take control of the pace, your eyes watered at his size and length. But, just as his cock throbbed more intensely and you felt him thicken inside your mouth, he pulled it out with a heavy groan, a trail of your saliva still connecting your tongue and its tip. He was probably close, too – not that you cared; you were thankful you didn't have to do it anymore.

Your husband helped you get to your feet, and he wiped the drool that coated your chin and the corners of your mouth. Just as you thought it was over, dread filled your heart once more as he whispered:

"Your mouth was a delight, my wife, but I would like my undoing to be inside you. Now, undress for me."

"Please, Morpheus, we don't have to do this," you tried to appeal. Of course, it was in vain.

"Our marriage isn't binding without proper consummation," he said, anger and impatience laced in his tone. "I will not ask again."

You could do nothing but choke back a sob as you hastily undid a ribbon on your dress, but his hand halted your fumbling. He looked down at you with a disapproving expression.

"Slowly, my love. I want to savour this."

So, like the obedient wife he wanted you to be, you pulled the ribbon inch by inch and undid the other side just as gradually. As soon as the ribbons unravelled, the satin dress pooled at your feet, taking away whatever protection you had left from his greedy eyes. You could hear the rumble from the back of Dream's throat as he hovered over your naked form. You were shivering from the cold Dreaming air coming from the open balcony, and from the way his eyes swept your body. Nobody has ever seen you so vulnerable.

A sob escaped from your lips, but it was completely ignored.

Pale fingers traced your body – he began on your collarbones, and made his way to your breasts, his thumb circling your nipples which pebbled at his touch. He then started stroking your waist while you continued to let your tears flow silently, before gripping your body and pulling it flush to his. You winced as you felt his erection press against your belly.

"Your beauty is staggering, my beloved," he praised.

The next thing you knew was your back hitting the soft sheets and him climbing above you.

You were in hysterics the moment you realised what was happening – you clawed at the chest that descended on your body and cried out in your despair, but strong hands grabbed your wrists and pinned them on your sides. You tilted your head so you could avoid seeing your husband's face, but in your blurry line of vision, all you could see was that damned ring on your finger, weighing you down as much as the torso sitting on top of you.

Morpheus brought his head closer with his breath fanning your exposed cheek, his ire palpable at your unacceptable behaviour.

"Remember our agreement, my little saviour. Or have you decided to eternally relinquish your life in the Waking and devote it all to me?"

You shook your head in denial, but the tears flowed freely. Gentle lips kissed them away, and you let them, as once more you were reminded what was at stake.

Just one night of this, and everything will be fine.

He pecked the corner of your lips before kissing you fully in the mouth, not caring that his cock was in it just a few moments ago. His hands roamed every part of your body he could reach. As his tongue lapped yours, he cupped your breasts and squeezed softly, and you moaned into his mouth and began kissing him back, albeit hesitantly. He pinched both your nipples at the same time, making you arch your back. It was mortifying, but damn, it felt good.

His heated, open-mouthed kisses moved to your jaw, then settled on your neck, finally biting and suckling your flesh – it hurt a little, but it was as if he longed to mark every part of you. Your skin crawled at the way his mouth moved downwards to your chest. You were breathing heavily now, both in terror and heightening desire. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan when his mouth began suckling your breast and biting the nipple. Heat surged to both your cheeks and between your thighs, and you began to feel this bizarre need for more friction down there.

Maybe this could work, just drowning in pleasure like this. Never mind who it was coming from.

With an agonising pace, that damned mouth travelled down your belly, to your bosom, and reached that aching flesh. He then spread your legs and nestled between them, his eyes darkening when he saw just how much he had aroused you.

"You see, my beloved?" He said with a soft chuckle. "You crave this as much as I do."

You were probably red in the face now, having never been exposed to anyone else like this in your life. You tilted your head and closed your eyes in your shame. You weren't supposed to want this.

"There is nothing to be ashamed of, my wife. Your body belongs to me. It is only right that I get acquainted with it."

He started kissing and biting down your inner thighs, marking them as his possession, but before you could adjust to this new-found pleasure, his hot breath was on your wet flesh and that mouth of his feasted.

His tongue parted your folds and then sucked on your clit, and he did this over and over, while you lay there, sprawled for him, panting heavily and mewling, gripping the sheets beneath you. He didn't mind that you weren't shaved, he ate and drank from you like a starved man, and your thighs automatically clenched him to keep him there. You writhed and moaned while that devilish mouth lapped up everything you could offer, and you could actually feel the tension building up in you like a coil, wanting to be released…

But then pulled away, leaving you winded and bewildered, while he looked down on you with a smug expression and the corner of his lips still glistening with your arousal.

"How can someone so pure taste so sinful?" He purred as he wiped his lower lip with his thumb. "I need you now, my precious little saviour. I have waited long enough."

His look darkened, immense hunger overtaking his features, as he descended on you once more and positioned himself between your spread legs. In an instant, the haziness of the pleasure was replaced by sheer panic, but by the time you reacted, he already had your wrists pinned above your head with a hand while he pushed your thighs even further apart with the other.

You knew what was at stake, but your resolve was at its weakest.

"Morpheus, please, please," you began to cry again. "I'll do anything else, I beg you…"

"Sshh, my beloved wife, sshh," he comforted you in a hushed tone as he drew closer to kiss your face repeatedly. He went on further, donning a sympathetic look. "Do you know what your parents dream of night after night? You, safe in their arms, loved and happy and wanting nothing. Do you truly wish for that to remain but a dream to them?"

You were in far too much distress to respond, but in your heart, you knew leaving them like that in the Waking would be a greater pain than what you would endure for this night. So, with great effort, you willed your tears to cease, which he seemed to take as a sign. Shifting slightly above you, he took his raging erection in his hand, placed it over your clit and dragged it a few times through your folds, before the tip landed on your untouched entrance. Letting go of your wrists, he cupped your face tenderly, and started pushing it in.

Nothing, not even that soft touch and that gentle shushing, could have prepared you for the pain you felt at the way his cock tore through your opening. You were petrified and in so much pain, the tears clouded your vision. Breathing shallowly, you could feel him push further into you, and your walls strained to accommodate him. He was impossibly huge, hot and pulsating, and every second he spent inside you was pure agony.

"Morpheus, please," you begged, fisting the sheets beneath you for elusive relief. "Please, it h-hurts, I-I can't – "

Your words were cut off by a searing kiss and a tongue that delved into yours, drowning out your cries of pain. He drank in everything, including your tears, his teeth scraping your lips as he tasted everything. He pulled away from the kiss with a groan; he now filled you to the brim, taking a great amount of pleasure from the way you wrapped around him. He stretched you to your limits while you keened from the effort of adjusting to his size.

"My wife, my love, hush," he murmured against the crook of your neck, planting soft butterfly kisses on the places he hadn't yet marked. "After the pain, will come the pleasure."

Morpheus stayed still, his forehead nuzzling your cheek, giving you time for the pain to fade. He took your hands and wrapped them around his form. You couldn't help squeezing his shoulders as you tried to relax, which he didn't object to.

From within you, he started to move. You could feel the friction as he pulled his cock out almost completely before putting it back in. You hissed and moaned in discomfort, but he went on at a slow pace. It didn't take long before you realised that the foreign feeling of being filled repeatedly to the brim was beginning to feel quite pleasurable, but that was nothing compared to a thrust that hit a certain spot in your core that sent you reeling in its intensity. Morpheus, who seemed delighted at the rather loud sound you made, grinned against your cheek and pulled away slightly, hovering over you, and began hitting that sweet spot again and again.

You threw your head back into the pillow, lost in the pleasure he gave, moaning wantonly as he increased his pace and the force of his thrusts. It was further amplified when he gripped your hips and pulled you to him as he filled you over and over, and in no time, your body began moving in sync with his as you sought more of it. Your walls clenched and unclenched around his cock without your control, you could tell that it gave him as much pleasure as it did you, for he started groaning your name over and over, 

Was it supposed to be this delicious?

Soon, your movements became more insistent, and his more relentless; every part of you fired up as the pleasure heightened. You dug your nails on his back and you could feel your pulse drumming in your ears as he pounded your core. You were clenching him harder now, your flesh clinging onto his cock like your life depended on it. 

With a harsh snap of his hips, you burst at the seams and unravelled; you came around his cock, screaming your husband's name, and all you could think of was his rock-hard cock forcefully hitting your sensitive walls. He too, came with a groan and your name on his lips, sending flashes of searing hot cum inside you and flooding your core with it. Your walls fluttered around the cock that was still shooting its load inside you, and your entire body shook as your orgasm took over every thought and every muscle.

It was pure bliss, and you soaked it all in.

It took a while for the high to fade, and a little longer for you to realise he was still on top of you, his cock was still hard and still inside you, and he was suckling the base of your neck and your shoulders. He's already left you bite marks all over your body, but even that wasn't enough for him, it seemed.

Resentment washed over you like cold water, but you didn't know whether it was for him or for yourself.

You let out a noise of complaint and used your palm to push at his chest. Perhaps he got the hint, for he pulled out and away from you with a final peck on your cheek. You rolled to your side as soon as he lifted off you, and your thighs inadvertently rubbed together. You were sore down there and so wet you didn't dare look, fearing you might lose your mind if you did.

Without warning, however, you were flipped to your stomach, with your husband pinning you down with his body draped all over you.

Against your ear, he whispered, "My beloved wife, you did so well. And you're going to take your husband again."

Terror welled in your heart. You were to have him inside you again, and you didn't know how much self-respect you were going to end up with if you so much as let out another embarrassing sound out of your mouth.

"Please, we already did it once – !"

Your protest was interrupted as soon as he dipped his head to your neck and bit your flesh, and with one thrust, his cock was once again lodged inside you from behind, earning a squeal from you and a sob.

He was hurting you again, and it had no right to feel this good.

"And we shall do so again, and again," he growled against your skin. "Until I'm sated. After all, you have denied me of your body for so long…"

He began thrusting into you without waiting for your body to adjust. He was rougher, hungrier, and more voracious than ever before, and the air in the room felt heavier than when he first took you.

As powerless as he made you feel since his capture of you, it was all the more evident now, and yet all that came out of you were shameless, loud moans and incoherent babbling. He hit that sweet spot over and over again with so much force, your body couldn't keep up with his pace, you laid still underneath him and let him have you.

"You will never deny me again, is that understood?"

You couldn't respond with so much as a curse – the onslaught of pleasure as he ravaged you made it almost impossible, but the rumble on his chest told you he wasn't happy with being ignored.

"Is that understood, wife?" He asked impatiently.

"Yes," you managed to let out. "Yes, Morpheus…"

He hummed in satisfaction from behind you. "All mine, all mine," he murmured, and began a pace that made you curl your toes and cry out. From behind you, he pounded into, while your throbbing core tried its best clamping on his cock to chase that intoxicating high.

"Oh god," you cried out.

This earned a sharp yank of your hair from him. You could feel his anger envelop you and hear him growl at the back of his throat.

"Wrong," he whispered vehemently against your ear. He pulled out of you, and you whined at the absence of him inside you. "I will not have you scream another's name while I pleasure you, wife. Now, amend your mistake, or shall I take away that lovely voice of yours? It would be a shame, not hearing the music you make while I'm – " you screamed as he put his cock back inside you without warning – "buried deep inside you…" 

Whether you angered him or not was of no consequence to you; the moment he continued ramming into your increasingly sensitive hole, you cried out his name, gripping the pillow in front of you with all your might just so you could take it. The ring on your finger was now completely ignored.

"Morpheus, I'm sorry, Morpheus…" you said repeatedly.

"Hmmm…that's my good girl, such an obedient wife…taking me so well…" he praised, holding your hips and bringing it to his.

His was unbridled lust, now making it known to you, and maybe even his entire realm, judging by how loud you were moaning.

"Please, please…" you begged. But for what? For him to stop? For him to go harder?

He chuckled behind you as his pace slowed down a little. "Does my little saviour want her release?"

You had tears streaming down your face in frustration. He was just torturing you at this point, but all you could do was nod as you tried to move to get more of that friction he provided. He tightened his grip on your hips to still you.

"Does my ravishing wife want her husband's seed dripping all over her thighs like the good wife she is?"

"Yes, Morpheus," you bawled. "I'm begging you, please…"

But he continued that infuriatingly controlled pace and made no move to speed it up. He whispered in your ear, "Say what you want, my little saviour and I shall give it."

"Please, Morpheus, make me come, please…"

"Good girl," he purred.

Morpheus happily obliged with your request. He rutted into you, making you throw your head back and move against him at his every thrust. He didn't like it, though; he gripped your hair again and smushed your face into the mattress, and lifted your hips in the air so he could get better access. His chambers were filled with your echoing screams and the rhythmic noise of sweaty slapping flesh trying to become one.

For him, this wasn't about making love anymore: this was primal, this was him marking you as his forever.

You were close – you could feel pleasure, so euphoric, thrumming within your body; your walls were now clenching him harder than ever, and every thrust of his sent jolts of electricity into your abdomen. So close, so close…

From behind you, he commanded, "Now, be a good wife and come for your husband."

And so you do; you came, so much harder than the first, screaming only your husband's name into the night. His thrusts became more erratic, his cock pulsed inside you, while your thighs quivered, your walls clamping down on him. With a thundering growl, he found his release, and sent ropes and ropes of his seed inside your walls, filling you up to the brim with it while you milked his cock for more. He whispered your name like a prayer against your hair, and bit down on your shoulder as he pumped the last of his cum within you.

It was ecstasy, dizzying and overwhelming.

As with all highs, however, came the lows, and for you, it couldn't get any lower: you were helpless, tired, and underneath a husband who was still inside you as you caught your breath and realised just how low you'd sunk. 

"My love, you were exceptional," he said with a kiss on your shoulder, right on the spot that he bit when he came. Just as he pulled out of you, you felt some of his spend leak out, so buried your face in the pillow in absolute shame.

You did this to get some of your life back, but even the reminder didn't make it any easier.

You felt the bed move, and your husband shifted beside you. 

"I am, however, nowhere near sated," he said with a smirk. "I am not done with you. Now, kindly get on your hands and knees for me, my good wife."

You could only whimper in protest at the way his insistent hand gave your ass cheek a good squeeze. He helped you get on all fours, then positioned himself behind you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit before plunging its entirety inside your aching walls with one forceful thrust.

Just this one night, you reminded yourself, then everything will be fine.

***

You were limp, sore, and exhausted beyond anything. After the seventh orgasm, you've lost count of how many more your husband had managed to force out of you, and your thighs were slick with the cum he had pumped inside you. Morpheus didn't seem to mind the mess you were making on his thighs as you sat on top of him with your legs spread to accommodate him and clung onto him with your arms around his neck, your aching body sprawled on his chest. The only thing anchoring you to your horrendous reality was the jolts of unwanted pleasure being sent into your core brought about by his ceaseless upwards thrusts, spreading all across your body and overstimulating all your nerve endings.

"One more for me, my beloved, you can take one more for your husband," he had kept saying.

When you orgasmed, it was rapture in almost every sense – you buried your face at the crook of his neck and blacked out for a few microseconds, only to be pulled back to consciousness by the warmth in your core courtesy of his spend inside you, and the mighty groan he let out as he, too, found his release. You actually cried softly in relief as he halted his movements.

It was over. It was over.

You thought you were going to end up sleeping in that position, but he rolled both of you over on the mattress and the pillows so gently, as if he had not just spent the entire night ruthlessly taking your virginity.

He manoeuvred you so you laid on top of him and you could hear him coo into your hair in a language that seemed familiar but you couldn't quite understand.

Whatever it was, it was oddly comforting, and along with being drained with every ounce of your energy, it was enough to lull you into sleep.

He didn't even have to use his sand.

***

You were jostled awake by fingers softly raking your hair.

As soon as your eyes opened, you were greeted warmly with ocean-blue eyes that held a multitude of galaxies. Despite waking up draped on top of a husband that you didn't really ask for, you had hope for the first time since he had spirited you to his realm. In just a few moments, you'd be back to work, just like nothing ever happened.

"Good morning, my precious little saviour," he greeted with a gentle smile.

Your lips moved, but it wasn't quite like the smile he had on. "H-hey," you greeted back as you placed your palm on his chest and pulled away as much as he allowed you to. "Uh, about our deal…"

"Hmm. What about it?" He asked idly, fluttering those enviably long eyelashes at you.

"I'm free now, right? You'll take me back to my world, and everything should be exactly as I left it."

You couldn't quite sit up, as he had his other arm around your back still trapping you to his naked body.

"Indeed," he hummed nonchalantly. "I gave you my word of returning you to the Waking in the condition that you give your heart to me fully and willingly."

You swallowed your nerves down, which were piqued for some reason. If he was playing around, he needed to quit it. Work started at nine, and you didn't really want to be late.

 "And I did," you insisted. "Now, keep your promise and let me go."

There was a palpable tension as he let go of you and allowed you to finally pull away. You changed your mind about sitting up, fearing you'd pull a muscle with all the strain your body took from last night's activities. He sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist, and faced you with a sombre expression.

"I'm afraid you did not fulfil the terms of our agreement, my beloved."

Did you see this coming from a mile away? You should've, said that nagging voice at the back of your head. What else could you have missed?

"Yes, I did," you countered, your voice faltering a little. You sat up abruptly, regretting it the moment you did. All your muscles screamed in protest, and you winced at the sudden pain between your legs. Ignoring it, you continued, "I did…I did everything you asked. You said you'd free me if I did… all of this."

"And I would have," he replied, tucking a strand of your messed-up hair behind your ears. "Had you offered yourself unto me entirely. The ring on your finger shows otherwise."

He took your hand that held the ring just as soon as your eyes were on it. The white in it seemed to swirl ominously, and you didn't like the way it seemed to respond to the man who gave it to you.

"The jewel on this ring detects your heart's pure desire," he explained, his finger tracing the stone. "It was partly imbibed by my sibling's power, and partly mine. My sibling, Desire, agreed to make the ring with me, signifying a truce between us and our realms."

He kissed the back of your hand before he released it, and you took it back and nursed it as if he just stung you.

He simply went on, "Should your heart submit to me in absolution, the jewel would burn blood crimson. Alas, it has not shifted colours the entire night you laid with me."

This wasn't happening. This must be some sort of ploy to get you to stay, right?

"Now, I do not mind in the slightest, my love," he droned on, ignoring the fact that you were now frozen in place and in disbelief. "I have an eternity to win you. But as far as our agreement is concerned, I cannot let you leave."

He lowered his timbre at the last part of his sentence for emphasis.

"So all of this was for nothing?" You asked blankly and gestured at the mess of sheets on his bed.

This can't be happening.

"My love, if it wasn't for you, my sibling and I would still be in a disagreement." He cupped your cheeks in praise, flashing you a proud look. "This was essentially your first act as queen: bringing peace between the Dreaming and The Threshold."

You snapped out of your dazed trance and swatted those hands away. You had a deal and damned if he won't fulfil his end of the bargain. He must be playing mind games with you – that was the only plausible explanation.

"Enough of your games, Morpheus," you spat out. "I married you, I slept with you. You gave me your word. I demand that you take me back to my place!"

But Morpheus merely raised his eyebrow at your outburst.

"I believe you are in no position to demand anything."

"You took everything from me!" You screamed, now fully realising the shithole you've just dug yourself into. You agreed to this, and he tricked you, using your vulnerability to his advantage. The worst part of it was, he had you played right from the get-go. "I have nothing left! I had nothing going for me but your word, and now…a-and now…"

All that frustration you had for him and yourself had to be released, and you did it the way you knew: you burst into tears.

Your mom and dad. They'd never see you again.

The nightmare that called himself your husband gathered your shaking form in his arms and whispered words that were supposed to comfort you, but you struggled against him and hit his chest repeatedly. He drew your face to his chest by wrapping his hand around your head and planted kisses on your hair.

"You planned this, you evil fucking cunt, you tricked me," you yelled against his chest. "You can't keep me in here…please let me go…"

"What kind of husband would I be if I let my own wife roam the Waking and live in a condition clearly beneath her royal status? No, such squalor does not befit you. You deserve to be worshipped, and I shall, my queen, until I cease to be."

"Morpheus," you tried to implore. "Please just let me go…"

But his grip on you never wavered. "I will never release you," he growled against your hair. "You belong to me for eternity. Now, I grow tired of this petty argument."

With a swift movement, he laid you on your back, climbed on top of you, and placed a hand on your throat.

A warning.

Even with tears blurring your vision, you saw his expression quite clearly. Wanton hunger and obsession took over his features, his eyes darkening and bleeding to black, just like they did when he first invaded your life with that confession you had rejected.

"You, however, my lovely wife, I will never tire of…" he whispered darkly. "Exhausted and bruised from our previous love-making, filled to the brim and dripping with my seed… just how you always should be."

You could only watch, helpless and unable to move in fear, as he pinned your wrists with one hand above your head. He slipped two fingers inside your still-sensitive walls without breaking eye contact, and withdrew it, donning on a satisfied smirk. You pleaded with him as he parted your legs with his knees, but even you knew your begging would fall on deaf ears. He had taken everything from you, and he was about to take more – with a single thrust, he was inside you again, and with a groan of pleasure he buried his face at the crook of your neck, whispering only one word again and again:

Mine. Mine. Mine.

With every last bit of hope leaving your exhausted body and mind, for the first time since he imprisoned you, you started believing him.

***

Morpheus was in a state of utter ecstasy.

First, his plan had worked. He was aware that you weren't in the right state of mind to fully give your heart to him, let alone make the change overnight, and the ring he sought from his sibling as reparation for their past falling out had worked spectacularly, allowing you to walk right into his well-laden trap. You had given him no choice – it was a necessary move to finally seal your fate with him for eternity.

Second, he had himself fully sheathed inside your heat, drawing out all the pleasure he could derive from your union, and you underneath him writhing in the throes of passion with your moans and cries echoing in his chambers.

Third, he just had a glimpse of the ring on your hand, that token of your devotion to him, and him alone, which began glowing in the lightest, most imperceptible shades of pink.

His joy amplified at the sight. He captured your lips with his as he thrust wildly into your throbbing flesh – you, the precious little mortal that inadvertently saved him with but a small act of kindness, was now in his arms, his, and you had nowhere else to go.

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

Wasn't too satisfied with the ending, but please let me know what you think! This may have been the filthiest smut I have ever written, even if I have written only a handful of them lol Also, forgive me if there were any errors, I shall edit this as soon as I can!

Tagging: @morpheuss1mp @alexander-arcturus-black @typical-bistander @ladyredstar1991 @moonmaiden1996 @musemaniac42

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A messy Dream. Literally messy

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Things To Consider When Writing With Mythologies 

Mythologies, often ancient narratives passed down through generations, hold profound cultural significance. They are not just tales of gods and heroes but windows into the beliefs, values, and fears of societies long gone. This is why it’s important to ensure you are culturally accurate and don’t accidentally offend members of the communities you are writing about. 

I personally am writing a WIP based around Japanese mythology, so here are some things I think you should consider when writing with mythologies.

Using Myths to Drive Plot and Character Development

Myths can serve as the very essence of your story's conflicts and themes. Imagine a tale where a young protagonist discovers they are the reincarnation of an ancient hero, destined to fulfill an ancient prophecy. The hero's journey in such a narrative would be profoundly tied to the mythological elements, guiding their growth and purpose.

Characters, too, can be shaped by the myths of their world. For instance, in Rick Riordan's "Percy Jackson and the Olympians" series, the characters are demigods, offspring of gods and mortals, and their quests are directly connected to the Greek mythos, intertwining their destinies with the larger tapestry of ancient legends.

Understanding Mythologies and Their Significance

Mythologies have been an integral part of human storytelling since time immemorial. They are not mere tales of gods and heroes but serve as essential cultural artifacts that mirror the beliefs, fears, and aspirations of ancient civilizations. Understanding the significance of mythologies can help us appreciate their profound impact on both the past and present, enriching our fantasy writing with layers of depth and meaning.

Mirrors of Cultural Beliefs

Mythologies offer a glimpse into the foundational beliefs and values of various cultures. These stories often revolve around the origins of the world, the creation of humanity, and the forces that govern existence. For instance, Greek mythology's creation story of Chaos giving rise to Gaia (Earth), Tartarus (Underworld), and Eros (Love) reflects the Greeks' attempt to explain the beginning of all things.

Archetypes and Universality

Myths are replete with archetypal characters and motifs that resonate with the human psyche. The hero's journey, the wise mentor, the epic battle between good and evil—these recurring themes transcend time and culture, connecting us to our shared human experience. As writers, tapping into these archetypes can make our characters and narratives more relatable and emotionally compelling.

Incorporating the essence of mythologies into our fantasy narratives allows us to harness the timeless power of these ancient tales. By honoring the significance of myths, we can create stories that resonate with readers on a profound and universal level.

Using Myths to Drive Plot and Character Development

Myths serve as powerful catalysts for driving the plot and shaping the characters in your fantasy world. By integrating mythological elements into your narrative, you infuse your story with a sense of wonder and connect your characters to something greater than themselves. Let's explore how myths can be harnessed to propel both plot and character development in your fantasy writing.

Mythological Themes as Central Conflicts

Incorporate mythological themes as the central conflicts driving your plot. Whether it's an ancient prophecy, a long-forgotten curse, or a divine mandate, mythological elements can set the stage for epic quests and high-stakes adventures. For example, in J.K. Rowling's "Harry Potter" series, the prophecies surrounding the Boy Who Lived and the rise of Voldemort become pivotal drivers of the plot.

Character Identity and Mythical Lineage

Give your characters a connection to the myths of your world. A character could be the descendant of a heroic figure from ancient times, bearing the weight of fulfilling an age-old prophecy. This connection to the past can shape their identity, motivations, and personal journeys.

Quests Rooted in Mythology

Craft quests and challenges that are steeped in mythological lore. By sending your characters on quests to recover sacred artifacts, defeat mythical beasts, or seek guidance from divine beings, you not only enrich your plot but also create opportunities for character growth and self-discovery.

The Mythic Impact on World Events

Consider how mythological elements influence the world events in your fantasy setting. Wars, political intrigue, and cultural practices may be shaped by the belief in ancient prophecies or the legacy of mythical beings.

Character Arcs Entwined with Myths

Let your characters' arcs intertwine with the myths of your world. As they confront their fears, overcome challenges, and evolve, they may embody the archetypal hero's transformation—rising to greatness or succumbing to tragic flaws.

Symbolism and Allegory in Mythological Writing

Incorporating symbolism and allegory into your mythological writing adds a layer of depth and complexity to your storytelling. These literary techniques allow you to explore profound themes and hidden meanings, making your fantasy narrative more thought-provoking and resonant with readers. Let's delve into how to effectively use symbolism and allegory in the context of myths.

The Power of Symbolism

Symbols are objects, characters, or events that carry deeper meanings beyond their literal interpretation. In mythological writing, symbols can represent abstract concepts, emotions, or significant aspects of the human condition. For instance, a mythical sword might symbolize justice and valor, while a sacred tree could represent the interconnectedness of life.

Allegorical Tales

Allegories are narratives that use symbolic characters and events to convey moral, philosophical, or political messages. Consider crafting allegorical myths to explore real-world issues in a fantastical context. For example, George Orwell's "Animal Farm" uses allegory to critique political systems and human nature.

Symbolism in Creatures and Settings

Leverage mythical creatures and settings as symbolic representations of broader concepts. A mythical dragon guarding a treasure might symbolize the greed that corrupts societies, while a mystical forest could represent the unknown and the call to adventure.

Interpretation and Depth

Allow room for interpretation in your myths. A richly layered narrative invites readers to contemplate various meanings and draw their own conclusions, fostering engagement and making your story more memorable.

Balancing Allegory and Narrative

Remember to strike a balance between allegory and storytelling. While powerful symbolism can add depth, be mindful not to overshadow the narrative's flow and character development.

Through symbolism and allegory, your mythological writing becomes a vessel for exploring timeless truths, moral dilemmas, and the complexities of the human experience. This layer of meaning elevates your storytelling, leaving a lasting impression on readers.

Blending Myths with Worldbuilding

The seamless integration of myths into your worldbuilding can elevate your fantasy realm from a mere backdrop to a living, breathing entity. By infusing every aspect of your world with mythological elements, you create a rich and immersive setting that captivates readers and allows them to fully immerse themselves in the wonder of your creation. Let's explore how to blend myths with worldbuilding to craft a cohesive and enchanting fantasy world.

Mythical Origins and History

Incorporate myths into the history of your world. Legends of ancient gods or legendary heroes can serve as the foundation of your world's creation and early development. These myths not only add depth but also explain the origins of key elements in your world, such as magical artifacts or mystical locations.

Mythical Geography and Landmarks

Infuse your world with mythical geography. Sacred mountains, enchanted forests, and mysterious islands can be inspired by myths or even be the settings of ancient mythological events. The presence of these mythical landmarks makes your world feel magical and mystical.

Divine Architecture and Symbols

Represent the influence of myths on architecture and symbols within your fantasy world. Temples dedicated to mythical deities, sacred runes, or sigils used for protection can add authenticity to your setting, giving readers a sense of a world with deep-rooted beliefs.

Rituals and Traditions

Showcase rituals and traditions that have evolved from ancient myths. Festivals celebrating mythical figures or events can be an essential part of your world's cultural identity. These traditions can create vibrant backdrops for scenes and contribute to the sense of community in your world.

Legendary Artifacts and Items

Integrate legendary artifacts and items from myths into your world. These powerful objects can become central to the plot or wielded by characters of great significance. For example, the Sword of Excalibur from Arthurian legends or Thor's hammer, Mjölnir, from Norse myths are iconic mythical artifacts.

Creatures and Races

Inspire the creation of unique creatures and races based on myths. Drawing from various mythologies, you can invent fantastical beings like phoenixes, centaurs, or sirens. Alternatively, reimagine existing mythical creatures in new and intriguing ways.

Myths and Cultural Diversity

Explore how myths shape the cultural identity of different regions or races in your world. Diverse myths can contribute to varied customs, values, and worldviews. This cultural tapestry enriches your world and provides opportunities for compelling conflicts and interactions between characters.

Avoiding Cultural Appropriation and Stereotypes

As writers, we have the incredible opportunity to draw inspiration from a wide array of cultures and myths to enrich our fantasy worlds. However, with this privilege comes the responsibility to approach the task with cultural sensitivity and respect. Avoiding cultural appropriation and stereotypes is crucial in creating a story that celebrates diversity and promotes understanding. Let's delve into ways to navigate this delicate terrain while crafting a mythologically inspired narrative.

Research Extensively

Thorough research is paramount when incorporating elements from real-world cultures into your writing. Dive deep into the myths, traditions, history, and values of the culture you intend to draw from. Seek out diverse sources and perspectives to gain a comprehensive understanding.

Understand Cultural Context

Cultural context matters. Recognize that myths are deeply rooted in cultural experiences and may carry sacred or sensitive meanings. Ensure that you grasp the nuances and significance of the myths you're using, and handle them with the utmost respect.

Avoid Stereotypes and Exoticization

Steer clear of perpetuating stereotypes or exoticizing cultures. Respectfully depict characters and settings without reducing them to one-dimensional or caricatured portrayals. Create fully fleshed-out characters with their own motivations, strengths, flaws, and complexities.

Collaborate and Seek Feedback

Consider collaborating with sensitivity readers or cultural consultants who are well-versed in the culture you're representing. Their insights can provide invaluable guidance and help you navigate potential pitfalls.

I hope this blog on Things To Consider When Writing With Mythologies will help you in your writing journey. Be sure to comment any tips of your own to help your fellow authors prosper, and follow my blog for new blog updates every Monday and Thursday.  

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Haya’s book blog where I post writing and publishing tips for authors every Monday and Thursday! And don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

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𓅨 Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: Chapter Seven

Sleepy Bitch Syndrome: You've got narcolepsy and have been visiting the Dreaming daily for years. Then its Lord and King finally return and he doesn't know quite what to think of you.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Narcoleptic!Reader, for you dear @aralezinspace.

Word Count: ~2.9k

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As you stand at the edge of the lake, Morpheus' words echo in your mind. The peacefulness of the scene is interrupted by a gentle tug at your consciousness. The next moment, you find yourself back in the palace, surrounded by bustling staff.

They flutter around you, their excitement palpable. You catch snippets of their conversation as they work, their voices light and musical. A celebration. Dressing up. Well if they were so excited you’d go along with them!

"The celebration day in the market! It's always such a grand event."

"And we finally have someone to prepare for it!"

You can’t help but smile at their enthusiasm. One of them—a young woman with bright eyes and quick hands—gently guides you to a chair. She gestures for you to sit, her face alight with joy.

"We have something special for you," she says, her tone full of anticipation.

Another staff member brings out a dress unlike any you've ever seen. It's woven from stars and galaxies, the fabric shimmering and shifting as if alive. You reach out to touch it, feeling the cool, silky texture under your fingers.

"It's beautiful," you whisper, awe-struck.

The young woman beams at you. "It was crafted especially for this occasion. We thought it fitting for someone so unique."

They help you into the dress with practiced ease, each movement precise and gentle. As they fasten the last clasp, you catch a glimpse of yourself in a nearby mirror. The dress hugs your form perfectly, the celestial patterns swirling around you in an enchanting dance.

"How do I look?" you ask, turning to face them.

The staff step back to admire their work, their faces lighting up with pride.

"Like a dream," one of them says softly.

Another staff member approaches with a delicate tiara adorned with tiny stars that twinkle softly. You wanted to tell them that it was a little overboard, but they were so excited to tend to you, you didn't have the heart to say no. They place it gently on your head, adjusting it until it's just right.

"There," they say, stepping back once more. "Now you're ready."

The palace staff usher you outside, their excitement bubbling over. The bridge connecting the palace to the town is lined with lanterns that glow like captured fireflies, casting a warm, inviting light. You hurry across, eager to experience your first festival in the Dreaming. As you step into the market square, the air buzzes with life. Stalls stretch as far as you can see, each more fantastical than the last.

To your left, a vendor sells bottles filled with dreams. The glass containers shimmer with colors that shift and swirl, reflecting scenes of soaring through clouds or swimming with bioluminescent creatures in deep oceans. You watch as a child selects a bottle, her eyes wide with wonder. She uncorks it and is instantly enveloped in a soft, radiant glow.

"Best dreams in the land," the vendor boasts, his grin as wide as the sky.

Next to him, another stall offers nightmares. Unlike the dreams, these bottles are dark and opaque, their contents hidden from view. A hooded figure examines one carefully before nodding and exchanging coins for it.

"Why would anyone want a nightmare?" you wonder aloud.

The vendor catches your eye and smiles knowingly. "Not all nightmares are bad. Some teach us valuable lessons."

You continue down the row, drawn by the rich scent of exotic spices from a nearby stall. The vendor there waves you over enthusiastically.

"Try this," he urges, handing you a small pouch filled with vibrant red powder. "It's made from the dreams of ancient warriors."

You take a pinch and sprinkle it on your tongue. A rush of heat floods your senses, followed by visions of epic battles and heroic feats. Your heart races with adrenaline and you hand itches to snatch a blade from your waist and toy with it. A blade which you do not have.

"Impressive," you manage to say, breathless, looking down to double check that you indeed, do not have a sword or dagger hanging from the skirt of your dress.

Further along, a group of musicians plays instruments crafted from moonbeams and stardust. Their melodies weave through the air, enchanting everyone who hears them. You pause to listen, feeling the music resonate deep within your soul.

A little further down the path, an artist paints canvases with scenes from people’s dreams. Each brushstroke seems to bring the image to life—trees that sway in an unseen breeze, rivers that shimmer like liquid silver. You watch in awe as she transforms a blank canvas into a vivid dreamscape.

"Would you like me to paint yours?" she asks without looking up from her work.

You consider it for a moment before shaking your head gently. You didn't quite feel like yourself and didn't want a portrait to reflect that. "Not today."

She nods in understanding and continues painting.

As you wander through the market, you realize that every vendor offers not just goods but experiences—each one unique and deeply personal. You are so glad you decided to come. To think you might have missed this! The air hums with magic and possibility, making it clear why this celebration is so beloved by all who attend.

As you stroll through the bustling market, you catch a whiff of something sweet and buttery. Your stomach rumbles in response, reminding you that you haven't eaten since arriving in the Dreaming. Following the tantalizing aroma, you find a stall adorned with golden pastries. Each one sparkles as if dusted with tiny flecks of sunlight.

"Care to try one?" a gravelly voice asks.

You turn to see Mervyn standing behind the counter. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles, a rare sight for someone usually so stern.

"Don't mind if I do," you reply, reaching for a pastry.

Mervyn chuckles and hands it to you with a flourish. "Golden flour, harvested from the fields of dawn. Best you'll ever taste."

You take a bite and your taste buds sing in delight. The pastry is warm and flaky, with a hint of honey that lingers on your tongue. Mervyn watches you with amusement as you savor each bite.

"Good, huh?" he asks, leaning against the counter.

"Better than good," you say between mouthfuls. Did golden flour actually have gold in it? The glimmering flecks were suspicious enough but the treat tasted so good! "Heavenly."

He grabs another pastry and breaks it in half, offering you one piece. You accept it gratefully, and proceed to gobble it down. As you finish the last crumb, something catches your eye. Across the square, half-hidden in shadow, stands Morpheus. His dark jacket billows slightly in the breeze, and his piercing eyes scan the crowd with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

Mervyn follows your gaze and grunts. "Always watching, never joining."

You nod absently, unable to tear your eyes away from Morpheus. He moves with an almost ethereal grace, slipping through the throng without drawing attention. For a moment, his gaze locks onto yours, and a shiver runs down your spine.

"He's got his reasons," Mervyn continues, pulling your attention back to him. "Always does." But is that not lonely?

You decide to go over to Morpheus and say hello so he isn't alone. Leaving the warmth of Mervyn's side, you weave through the crowd, each step bringing you closer to the Dream Lord that has occupied your thoughts since you have met him.

As you approach, Morpheus turns his head slightly, acknowledging your presence with a subtle nod. His eyes, dark as the night sky, hold a depth that makes you feel both seen and understood in ways words could never capture.

"Enjoying the festival?" he asks, his voice smooth and velvety, resonating with an otherworldly quality. His eyes drink in your figure, lingering on the dress you wear for the evening—a flowing, ethereal gown that seems to shimmer with the light of a thousand stars. His stars look so beautiful wrapped around your body.

You smile, feeling a pleasant warmth spread through you under his gaze. "I am. It’s beautiful, Morpheus. You’ve truly outdone yourself."

He steps closer, the space between you shrinking, his presence both magnetic and overwhelming. "Not as beautiful as you," he replies softly, his eyes tracing the lines of your dress. "The gown suits you exquisitely."

A rush of heat rises to your cheeks, the compliment making your heart flutter. "Thank you," you say, your voice a bit breathless. "It’s an honor to be here, to see the Dreaming like this. And this dress, I've never worn anything like it before, it's incredible," you reply, feeling a flutter in your chest. "But I noticed you standing here alone. Thought I'd keep you company."

A small smile tugs at the corner of the corner of his lips. "Your presence is appreciated."

You feel a flutter in your chest as his gaze lingers on yours, the intensity of his eyes making you feel like you're the only person in the crowded market square. His smile, though subtle, holds a hint of warmth that draws you in.

"Tell me more about this festival," you ask, curiosity getting the better of you. "What's its significance in the Dreaming?"

Morpheus' eyes light up, and he leans in, his voice taking on a narrative quality. "The Festival of Dreams is a celebration of the Dreaming's power. It's a time when the veil between reality and the Dreaming is at its thinnest, allowing us to tap into the deepest desires of those who sleep."

As he speaks, his words paint vivid pictures in your mind. You can almost see the threads of the Dreaming weaving together, connecting the sleepers to the world of the awake. A shame they won't remember when they will wake.

"The festival has been celebrated for eons," Morpheus continues, his voice weaving a spell around you. "When my realm is at it's most powerful and dynamic."

You are captivated as Morpheus shares stories of the festivals that came before, at least when he was present. His fervor for his realm is contagious, and you feel yourself caught up in his excitement. A ruler that truly cared about his people, his realm.

As the night wears on, Morpheus glances up at the sky, his eyes locking onto something beyond the lanterns. "Come," he says, his voice low and husky. "I want to show you something."

He offer's you his hand, and that makes your stomach flutter. It wasn't like you were anything special, just a narcoleptic dream walker.

Morpheus leads you away from the bustling festival, weaving through the crowd with a graceful confidence that only an Endless could possess. You follow closely, your heart racing with excitement and anticipation as you venture further into the realm.

The further you travel from the market square, the more the noise of the festival fades away, replaced by a silence that feels almost reverent. The only sound is the soft swish of your dress and Morpheus's footsteps as he guides you to an open field, where the stars above are reflected in the dewdrops on the grass. You are more than surprised that your heels have yet to cause you pain or discomfort.

"This way," he whispers, gesturing up at the sky.

Your eyes follow, and you gasp in awe as you take in the breathtaking sight before you. The sky above is ablaze with cosmic forces, nebulae and planets breaking apart and reforming in a dance as old as time itself. Well, almost, Father Time predated the cosmos, only just. The colors are unlike anything you've ever seen, shades of indigo and violet mingling with the warm hues of red and gold, casting an ethereal glow over the field.

Morpheus steps closer, his presence both magnetic and overwhelming. A true dichotomy. “This is the true power of the my realm," he murmurs, his voice barely audible above the rustling of the leaves in the wind. "The forces that shape our world, and the worlds of those who sleep. Ever changing and remolding itself to the whims of humanity, much like sand.

You find yourself lost in the beauty of the cosmos, your heart pounding in your chest as you take it all in. Morpheus stands beside you, his gaze fixed on the sky. You can feel his warmth against your side, and the air between you seems to crackle with tension.

"You have a unique perspective," he says softly, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Most never get to see this world as it truly is."

His words hang heavy in the air, and you can't help but wonder what he means by "unique perspective." Is it because of your ability to walk between dreams? Or that you are mortal? Or is there something else?

Morpheus turns to face you, his eyes locking onto yours. "I am eternally grateful for what you did," he says, his voice low and husky. "When I could not help my people, you stepped in and saved them."

Your heart races at his words, and you feel a flush creeping up your neck. You had only been trying to help them; you never expected him to be so grateful. But there's something else in his eyes—something that makes your stomach flutter and your pulse quicken. Is it admiration? Or something more?

"Thank you," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to help."

Morpheus takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "There's more to it than that," he says softly. "You have a connection to this realm—a connection that goes beyond mere dreams."

Your heart skips a beat as he speaks, and you can't help but wonder what he means by that. Do you truly belong here—in the Dreaming—more than in the waking world? And if so, what does that mean for your future?

Morpheus reaches out and gently cups your cheek in his hand, his thumb tracing the line of your jawline. You feel a jolt of electricity pass between you as his fingers brush against your skin, and for a moment, everything else fades away except for the two of you standing beneath the stars above.

"You are special," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin. "And I want to show you just how special you are."

His words makes your stomach flip as he leans closer—so close that your lips are almost touching—and for a moment, everything else fades away except for the two of you beneath the cosmic dance above. Soft stardust shimmering down like a drizzle of rain. But before your lips can meet, Morpheus pulls back suddenly, leaving you breathless and confused. What the hell just happened? Had you really been about to kiss an Endless??

You wake up in bed for once.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you sit up, gasping for breath. The room around you is dimly lit, the only light coming from the soft glow of the moon through your window. Your fingers tremble as you reach up to touch your cheek, half-expecting to feel Morpheus' lingering touch.

But you're alone, in your bed, back in the waking world.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. The dream felt so real, so vivid. You can still feel the electric charge of Morpheus' presence, the warmth of his hand on your cheek. The memory sends a shiver down your spine.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand up, needing to shake off the remnants of the dream. Your room feels strangely empty, as if a piece of it is missing now that you're awake. You walk to the window and look out at the quiet street below, your mind still buzzing with the images of the festival and the cosmic dance in the sky.

As you gaze out at the night, you hear a soft rustling behind you. You turn quickly, half-expecting to see Morpheus standing there. But there's no one. Just your room, filled with shadows and moonlight.

You let out a sigh and run a hand through your hair. "Get a grip," you mutter to yourself. "you're narcoleptic not a hopeless romantic, it was just a dream."

Okay maybe you are a hopeless romantic….

But deep down, you know it was more than that. You've always had a connection to the Dreaming—a connection that feels stronger now than ever before. And Morpheus' words linger in your mind: "You are special."

You close your eyes and take another deep breath, trying to center yourself. When you open them again, you notice something on your nightstand—a small vial filled with shimmering dust. You pick it up carefully, turning it over in your hand.

"Stardust," you whisper, recognizing it from the festival.

How did it get here? Did Morpheus leave it for you? Or is this another trick of the Dreaming?

Your fingers tighten around the vial as a sense of determination fills you. If there's one thing you've learned from your journeys through dreams, it's that nothing happens by chance. Everything has meaning. Always.

You place the vial back on your nightstand and climb back into bed, pulling the covers up around you. As you close your eyes, you make a silent promise to yourself: you'll chase after whatever this is, regardless of your narcolepsy. Sleep comes quickly this time, pulling you back into its embrace like an old friend. And it is. The stars above twinkle softly as if whispering secrets just for you.

Date Published: 8/21/24

Last Edit: 8/21/24

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“why you scared?”

(some movements make no sense but im too lazy to fix it)

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The soft kiss that quickly escalates.

Six Sexy Words