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“why you scared?”

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

There are voices in the static, strange words whispered down the wires.

Circling vs. Zigzagging Conflicts

Nearly every writer understands that a story needs conflict. The protagonist sets off to fulfill a goal, runs into an antagonistic force, and their struggle creates conflict. This should happen in the story as a whole, this should happen in acts, and it should happen in almost every scene--the difference is that the smaller the structural unit, the smaller the antagonist and conflict (simplistically speaking).

Today I want to talk about a sneaky problem I sometimes see when editing manuscripts, one that relates to conflicts.

Sometimes the writer simply “circles” the conflict.

What I mean is that after a given conflict, nothing has actually changed in the story. We just completed a “circle.”

For example, say the protagonist is a favorite target of the schoolyard bully. They get into a verbal fight, but when it's over, nothing's different. The conflict didn't have any consequences.

It may not sound that bad.

And if it only happens once in a while, and there are enough other conflicts going on, it may not be.

But if this happens repeatedly or this is the main conflict, the plot isn't progressing. It just did a circle and the characters ended up in the same situation they were before the encounter. Essentially, no matter how exciting the scene may seem to be, you could still cut it and the story would be the same.

Let's look at an even less obvious example.

The protagonist needs to get Object X from Character B.

The protagonist finds a way to successfully steal it.

But then immediately afterward, Character B steals it back.

The scene ends, and the protagonist is back at square one.

It doesn't sound that bad, does it?

And if it only happens once in a while, and there are enough other conflicts going on, it may not be.

But if this sort of thing happens repeatedly--over and over and over--the plot isn't progressing. You're just going back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. And if we just arc that path a bit, guess what? It creates a circle.

Another example:

The protagonist has a problem.

But she's not taking action to solve the problem. 

Yes, she reacts emotionally to the problem.

She may even sometimes come up with a plan for how to try to solve the problem.

But she doesn't execute it. Or, some other problem comes up that keeps her from executing it.

And rather than come up with and execute a new plan to address that problem.

She just reacts emotionally to the problem.

Imagine this going on for multiple scenes.

The plot isn't progressing. She's just ruminating.

It still feels like the text is just circling the conflict.

Please know I'm not saying a story can never do these things. On rare occasions, circling conflicts can be useful, like when the point is to show the audience how some things don't change. My first example may arguably work near the beginning of the story, to show what the protagonist's day-to-day life is like. My second example can sometimes work as a frustrating irony. And my last example, well . . . don't do my last example. Okay, okay, maybe it could work to show off how the protagonist is incapable of or has the flaw of never moving forward (and chances are it'd probably be better to illustrate that through summary, rather than scene).

And some degree of circling can work, when the story needs to end with the characters and world in the same place they started, like in a serial, but note that usually through the installment, there isn't much circling.

And often, even if the external circumstances complete a circle, the journey changed the character internally in some significant way.

BUT if you are repeatedly writing examples like those above, where the situation at the end of a scene or act is essentially the same as it was at the beginning of the scene or act, then you aren't moving the story forward.

Sure, conflict may show up on the page, but the text is just circling it.

Instead, it's much more effective to create a zigzag. 

If we wanted to keep this super simple, we might say the scene (or act) needs to move from a positive situation to a negative situation, or a negative situation to a positive situation. Or, a positive situation to a better situation, or a negative situation to a worse situation. Essentially:

+ --> -

- --> +

+ --> ++

- --> --

This is a good starting point, but I admit, it sometimes feels oversimplified to me.

In any case, the situation the character is in, has changed.

The story didn't do a circle. It did a zigzag (or zigzigger or zagzagger). 

The protagonist had a goal, encountered an antagonist, had a conflict, and the conflict came to a definitive outcome (if only on the small scale for that scene). It hit a climax or turning point.

And that outcome carries consequences.

The protagonist gets in an argument with the bully and gets suspended for his language. If he's suspended, his parents will ground him, and he won't get to go on an upcoming date with his crush. It's a setback.

Character B steals Object X back and in the process, mortally wounds the protagonist. Now the protagonist needs to get help before they die.

The protagonist takes action to solve the new problem, and not only succeeds, but manages to solve her original problem at the same time.

But often just adding consequences isn't enough. We need to make sure the consequences aren't or can't be undone, at least not easily or coincidentally. We don't have the protagonist's dad have a serendipitous change of heart and simply allow the protagonist to go on the date.

Don't undo what you just did (generally speaking). 

If the protagonist ended with a bigger or new problem, make him put in the effort to try to solve it. (See the "No, and . . ." vs. "Yes, but . . . " rule under "Disaster.")

And don't forget my "acid test" for plot progression. At the end of the scene (or act), ask, did the protagonist's current goal and/or plan shift? If the answer is no, chances are you did a circle. (Or you at least left things stagnating). If the answer is yes, something changed.

As I mentioned above, sometimes the change is internal. 

Maybe Character B did simply steal Object X back, but maybe that leads to the protagonist realizing he doesn't want Object X as much as he wants revenge on Character B. He hatches a plan to exact that.

While that may not be as strong as the protagonist getting mortally wounded, it's better than nothing changing, and the experience does change the direction of the story.

Personally, I'd still be cautious of writing such a situation, though. In most types of stories, we want consequences to be both internal and external.

But that topic could be another post.

So in closing: zigzagging conflicts is better than circling them.

Adieu.

A Small Act of Kindness

A DARK one-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, etc, 18+ only!!

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

Summary: You were at the cusp of making a life for yourself when you bought a loaf of bread for a stranger, who seemed a little bit too taken with such a nice gesture.

When you were a kid, everybody around you seemed to think you got a great life ahead of you. You kept hearing them comment how bright you were, how talented, how lucky your parents were to have such a behaved, wonderful child - and for a time, it got to your head.

Until life proved you weren't really any of those things.

It started creeping in when you went away to college. You had a taste of freedom, of zero expectations, and a glimpse of a world suddenly leagues beyond yourself. It was one class at first, then another, until you started dropping out of every class and left college altogether.

Many therapy sessions, and a couple of therapists later, you found out what it was called: burnout. It just so happened it plagued you a little early in life.

In retrospect, perhaps you could've tried harder - if you had just snoozed your alarm off a little less; if you had just grit your teeth and stomached your way through a few more algebra periods instead of sitting alone in that little corner of the library, reading whatever, hidden from a world you barely knew - perhaps it all would've been different.

Perhaps, you wouldn't be stuck in this small, glass cage floating in a vast chasm, in a place you hadn't thought existed even in your wildest dreams.

It was a day like any other, you supposed: the day you met him. You had to go to work, to a desk job that you actually liked, writing for a local food magazine. You were quite good at it too - it's a skill you had when you were quite young and had not had a chance to cultivate until late. Sure, you were barely making ends meet and had very little time to spare, what with taking a certificate course at a nearby university and recently moving out of your parents' house to rent your own little apartment, but you were feeling optimistic for the first time in a long while. Your boss just let it slip the other day that you were due for a well-deserved promotion soon. It was a slow process, but you were finally on your way to getting your life back together. You had a future you looked forward to.

Having already established your morning routine, you were on your way early to the office and decided to stop for coffee at this corner bakeshop you had once featured in one of your articles. The smell of freshly baked bread distracted you from a mental draft you were making for an article due tonight, so on impulse, you asked the cashier for a plain butter croissant at the counter. You looked to your right where the pastries were to see whether you wanted something else (the danishes looked scrumptious). You opened your mouth to ask the other lady behind the bread counter for a cherry danish, but her attention was already on the man beside you, clad in a thick, woollen black coat, collar upturned, his chiselled jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly at the question the lady posed for him.

"Uh, sir? I asked what you'd like to have?"

He tilted his head imperceptibly and for a moment, you thought he couldn't speak, until he opened those pursed lips, and finally, came out the most velvety, alluring voice you've ever heard: "I'd like some bread, please."

"Well, we've got quite a lot of them," the lady replied slowly as if she was trying her best not to be snarky at the stranger. "Might I recommend the baguette? It's fresh out of the oven."

The man nodded curtly as the lady picked the steaming bread from the basket display using a pair of tongs and placed it inside a brown paper bag.

"That'll be one twenty-five, sir."

The man made no move to shuffle in his pockets for money. In fact, he stayed still, stiff as a board, staring at the lady behind the counter who was getting rather irritated at his dawdling, probably keeping her from attending to the growing line of other customers waiting to get their breakfast. Perhaps, he didn't have money? Perhaps, just like your first few weeks out of your parents' house, he was struggling and he had no one else to depend on?

"I-I'll pay for it."

You didn't know what it really was that compelled you to say it - maybe it was that draft you were itching to get to, maybe you found empathy in his situation, whatever it was - at that time, you had no regrets. Seemingly surprised by the gesture, the man in the black coat, with his dishevelled hair and his pale countenance, stared at you intensely through those long eyelashes of his, and for a few moments, you held his gaze.

His eyes. They were a nice shade of ocean blue. They were the most beautiful pair of eyes you had ever seen.

You would later discover they could bleed to depthless black - ruthless, vindictive, inhuman.

The cashier handed you your change and your croissant, effectively breaking the spell the stranger beside you had on you. The cherry danish all but ignored, you flashed the man a small smile and headed out of the bakeshop, going about your merry way to the office with nothing but that article in mind.

And for the next two weeks, you had already put the rather bizarre incident (man) behind you, having been assigned to another place to visit and write about.

The man, however, never forgot.

The place you had been assigned to, called the New Inn, actually belonged to a professor in your university. You've had quite a lot of fun in his classes, so this was a gig you were pretty excited about.

It was a little over five in the afternoon when you stepped inside Professor Gadling's pub. He was already there in the corner booth, grading several essays. He put them aside as you arrived and asked a waiter to bring you both coffee. You were in the process of bringing out your digital recorder for the interview when you heard a voice so familiar it sent shivers down your spine.

"Hob."

Completely taken by surprise, you dropped the recorder to the floor, and it landed just a few inches from a pair of black boots. You tried to reach for it, but a pale, bony hand picked it up and wordlessly handed it to you. You looked up, only to get lost in a pair of ocean-blue eyes focused entirely on you.

It was the stranger from the bakeshop.

You took the recorder, muttering a flustered 'thank you,' before Professor Gadling greeted him like an old friend. He then introduced you to the stranger, who oddly enough just stared at you the entire time.

"She's interviewing me for the pub. I'll be featured in a magazine, can you believe it?" Professor Gadling said to the stranger who stepped inside the booth, intending to take the empty seat directly across from you. Turning to you, he stated, "This is my friend -"

"You may call me Morpheus." The man interrupted, a ghost of a smile visible on his usually blank features. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

It was unnerving the way he held your gaze without blinking, but perhaps it was just your imagination - after all, you hadn't had anything to eat since that leftover Chinese noodles this morning.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” was all you could come up with.

You were grateful when the waiter arrived with two cups of coffee and a dessert platter, and the interview with the professor went well and without interruptions. You both had so much fun, you ended up having dinner and drinks at the pub, and while it struck you odd that your third, silent companion did not partake in any single morsel of the food, by the time the evening ended at half-past ten, you had enough material for your article and were in great spirits. You thanked him for being such a gracious host and politely bid your farewell, as you were anxious to get a headstart on the draft.

The three of you simultaneously got to your feet - Professor Gadling to walk you outside, and the odd man named Morpheus trailing behind.

"Do come by again, my dear, and good luck with the article. I know you'd do a fantastic job." The professor said as he waved farewell outside the pub. He turned to Morpheus, who stood just a few feet away, watching the interaction, and gestured to him inside - presumably for them to continue their conversation - but as soon as you waved goodbye, he made a beeline for you, stopping just a few inches away and towering over you.

Too close, you thought. Wait, were his eyes twinkling? It must’ve been the streetlamp, the lights outside were pretty dim.

"I would like to accompany you on your walk home."

His words threw you off because they were so unexpected. He had no reason to do so, after all. Shyly, you beamed at him and replied, "I'd appreciate it, Morpheus, but I wouldn't like to impose...weren't you meeting with the professor?"

Professor Gadling, who apparently was in earshot of your conversation, waved you away.

"No, it's fine, dear. Besides, a young lady such as yourself shouldn't be walking alone at night. I'll see you some other time, my friend," he added, winking at Morpheus, who just tilted his chin in reply.

The professor had a point. You lived nearby, that was true, but the streets weren't safe on a Friday night, especially at this hour. You chewed on the insides of your cheek, nervous at the fact that you have not had anyone walk you home in a long while.

It's just a walk home. It couldn't be that bad, could it?

"Okay."

You would come to regret your response.

***

Inwardly, Morpheus rejoiced at the thought of you lowering your guard with him. He motioned with a hand to let you lead the way, not that he needed it - in two weeks after your fateful encounter at the bakeshop he had gotten to know every little detail he needed to know about you, including where you lived, of course. He had seen the little apartment himself when you were out at work, and while it irked him that you had to live in such a humble abode, he knew through your dreams that you had filled the apartment with love and considered it your sanctuary. It wouldn't matter once he took you home to his kingdom as his lover - for you, he'd craft an entire palace carved in precious stones in the blink of an eye, and it would be your sanctuary, just as much as this tiny home.

He did a fine job, too, of luring you into the place his centuries-old friend now owned. It took him only one dream, planted during your boss’s deepest slumber, for you to get sent right where Morpheus wanted you to be. All this planning and you were right there, with him, just as the fates would have it.

He had to ask you tonight. He has waited long enough.

***

You were just a few blocks away from your apartment building when you finally gained the courage to break the awkward silence between you two.

"Thank you for walking me home," you said quietly as you eyed him sideways. Your eyes widened at the sight that greeted you: he had a genuine, warm smile on his face you'd never seen on him before, and if his demeanour is anything to go by, you knew this was a rarity.

He looked like a prince, even with his hair sticking out in all directions.

"It is I who should be thanking you for your kindness to me at that establishment," he spoke with conviction. "I have not forgotten."

Surprised, but overall glad that he remembered, you matched his expression as best you can and replied, "You're welcome."

Nothing was ever exchanged until you reached your apartment door, but he seemed to draw closer to you, your shoulders almost touching.

Your hand was already at the keys to the doorknob when you asked him if he wanted to come in.

"For tea, perhaps?" You added. "I couldn't help but notice you didn’t eat at dinner, so…”

It was a last-minute decision, seeing as he was kind enough to ensure you got home safely. He could do with a few biscuits, too, in your opinion, judging by his pallor and his refusal to eat anything at the pub.

There it was again - that captivating smile, but behind it, you see a flash of something else entirely. It was gone even before you could fully take it in, so you shrugged inwardly. The hallway’s lighting has always been too dark to see a damn thing.

“You need not concern yourself over me, I am much stronger than I look,” he said in a light, teasing tone. “However, your effort would be appreciated.”

“Oh, it’s no problem!” You waved him off and pushed the door open to your home. “I just hope you don’t mind tea without milk, I haven’t done any grocery shopping yet…”

Morpheus followed you inside, closing the door behind him, as you went off to your room to drop your bag on the bed and set up your laptop on your work desk. As soon as you got out of your room, you found him with his back to you, rummaging through the copies of the magazine you wrote for.

“Nothing interesting in those, I’m afraid. Still, not bad for a would-be writer, don’t you think?”

Chuckling to yourself, you made your way to the tiny kitchen to put the electric kettle to boil, then rummaged through the cupboards for a mug you were saving for when you had guests over. Not that you’ve ever had any - so far, he was the first you’ve had since you moved in.

“‘A would-be writer?’”

The proximity of his voice startled you, seeing as you thought he had still been reading back in the living room. It’s admittedly only a few steps away, but you hadn’t heard him approach. He was at the kitchen doorway, casting a long shadow in the dimly lit space. You had forgotten to turn the lights on, but it didn’t seem to bother him.

“You give yourself very little credit for such riveting work,” he said as he closed the distance between you. The kettle had just turned off by itself, so you concentrated on pouring the boiling water on the mug and dropping a Ceylon tea bag inside. Leaning on the tiled counter, you watched the tea leaves bleed into the water, turning it to a lovely amber colour.

“I don’t know about that -”

Your sentence was cut short as you felt his fingertips subtly stroke your elbow, giving you goosebumps all over your arm.

He’d gotten so close…

Scooping up the mug with both hands, you turn around to hand him the mug, only to find yourself inches away from him you almost spill the hot liquid on his woollen coat.

“Your writing has soul. I should know: I have read every word you have ever written.”

Blinking up at him, you saw him dip his head closer to yours as his pale, warm hands enclosed around yours, still holding the tea.

You were trembling, it seemed, but he stilled it.

“Th-thank you," you whispered, unable to avert your gaze from those piercing blue eyes that seemed to pin you to place, as was his tall, imposing form enclosing you between him and the kitchen counter. He was so close you could feel the heat emanating from him. "That means so much to me.”

Or was it the heat from your cheeks you felt?

Seemingly oblivious to your increasingly flustered state, Morpheus made a deliberate move to extricate the cup of tea from your grasp so he could set it back down behind you (it was probably already over-brewed, you thought), while you try to compose yourself and ignore his fingers softly grazing your knuckles. You didn't have much time, however, because the next thing you knew was those same hands cupping your cheeks and his soft lips brushing over yours in a chaste kiss that stole your breath completely.

You felt him release his hold on you, perhaps to observe your reaction. Perhaps, you could’ve pushed him away right there and then; screamed at him for touching you and thrown him out of your home; but you couldn’t summon your limbs to respond. He took your momentary lapse of judgement to crash his lips on yours once more - it was a more heated, more insistent kiss, and as if to seal you to him, his hands travelled to your back to encase you in an embrace and pushed you further into the counter.

This was wrong.

It was all your instincts could tell you. So you heeded them and pushed against the lapel of his coat with all your strength. It was like pushing against a wall, but you managed to wriggle free from his grasp, so you made an effort to put as much distance between you and him as your tiny kitchen would allow. You glanced immediately at his face to gauge his expression, and to your utter shock, his eyes had gone entirely black. One blink, and it was blue once more, maybe even a tad regretful.

It’s the lighting in this damn kitchen, you assured yourself.

“I understand I may have been too forward,” he began, “But I assure you, my intentions are pure. I have waited for this since our fateful meeting.” He took slow steps towards you, and unconsciously you backed away until your back hit the fridge. There was nowhere else to back into. He halted as soon as he sensed your guard up.

“Morpheus, it was just a loaf of bread, really…”

Morpheus’s eyes softened visibly at your words and simply continued, “And by that selfless act, you have saved me in more ways than you could ever understand. I have held you in my heart since, my precious little saviour.”

“I-I'm sure it's nothing...” you stammered.

“Allow me the honour of courting you, and in turn, you shall know of my gratitude, and my love, until the end of my days.”

Your heart sank at his declaration. Somehow, you knew in your heart he meant every word he said. You couldn’t have this, not when everything in your life was just starting to fall into place. You put on the kindest smile you could muster and spoke slowly as you chose the right words, hoping he wouldn’t be too downcast with what you were about to say to him.

“I'm sure you're a wonderful man, Morpheus. I just…I don't think I can make that commitment right now. I mean, I just met you, and all I know about you is that you’re Professor Gadling’s friend.”

“That can be rectified.”

You let out a sigh. This was going to be difficult, but you really didn’t like the idea of egging him on. “I know that, but…I don’t think I have time for that, you know?”

“How so?” he asked in a low voice, tilting his head slightly.

“It's been a struggle just to get to where I am today… I have my work, which I love, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I'm doing something right and…one wrong move could make me lose my footing. I’m sorry.”

Morpheus seemed unconvinced, taking a few steps forward to close that gap between you. “You need not worry yourself over such trivial matters. I know what you dream of. I can give you the recognition you deserve, the stability you crave and more… Come with me and I can show you.”

He offered an outstretched hand, urging you to take it. But if you were being honest, you just wanted to crawl into bed, the draft be damned. Exhaustion was starting to creep up on you.

“‘Come with you…?’ I'm sorry, please don't take this the wrong way, I'm sure you mean well…but-but-th-this isn't really a good time for this…” you stammered as you crossed your arms to make a point, which you hoped he’d finally take. “I think I'd like to be alone now, please. I-I have that…thing I want to finish, and it's getting late…I’m sorry, Morpheus. I really am.”

Morpheus’s hand lowered steadily, but all the softness he had in his expression was gone without a trace, replaced with cold, hard eyes and furrowed brows. The warmth you have loved your apartment for all but disappeared, replaced with a clammy air that seemed to come from…from him.

“You have no idea what you've just turned away…nor who I am, and what I can do,” came Morpheus’s voice, lowered to an unrecognisable timbre. “I will give you this final chance to amend your answer, my little saviour.”

“E-excuse me?” you said, fighting the urge to run away from him and hide. This was your home, you had no reason to. Who the hell was he to threaten you in your own home? “I'd like you to leave, please, or I'm calling the police…”

He was only a few feet away from you now, and the wind somehow grew stronger, you could feel its rough caress on your skin.

Sand.

The light in your kitchen turned on without a warning, and your eyes widened at the sight of the man you had so carelessly allowed into your home:

A dangerous man - now a being transforming right before you - with chilling black eyes, a heavy flurry of sand circling him, and waves of black smoke emanating from his growing form…

Paralyzed in utter fear, your heart pounding in your ears, all you could do was hold on to the fridge as you watched him approach your cowering form on the floor. Gone was that princely face you shared a gentle kiss with, replaced by a bony, skeletal mask with hollow cheekbones, his mouth contorted in a snarl that revealed razor-sharp fangs.

His voice echoed as he spoke, raspy and deafening:

“I am quite disappointed in you, my precious saviour. No matter: I am not unmerciful.” A pale hand, now with blackened, sharpened nails, made an appearance before you. “Take my hand, my beloved, and I shall forgive your error.”

In your terrified state, all you could muster was an adamant shake of your head.

This can’t be real. It couldn’t be.

“I’m dreaming, I'm-I’m dreaming this, this can’t be real, you’re no-not real…” hunched on the floor, hugging your legs, you muttered to yourself.

“Very well,” he thundered. “You have made your choice. ”

You would later discover just how real dreams could be, and that they weren’t that much different from the nightmares.

***

Morpheus released a small sigh as he watched you in your spherical compartment, deep in troubled slumber. He had not meant to frighten you that much with his nightmarish form. Admittedly, he could’ve done a much better job with reeling himself in, but the pain of your rejection felt to him like a thousand daggers being plunged into his heart. All he wanted was for you to be happy with him. He could’ve given you everything he had seen you dream of - he still could, but not before he heard from your sweet lips an admittance of your guilt, and a vow never to spurn him again. 

He held the tiny sphere that contained your form in his palm and drew it closer to his face to get a better look at you. He had fashioned you a dress that brought out the colour of your eyes and soul: you looked ravishing, even in imprisonment. In his mind, he had played the memory of the kiss you had shared with him in your home a thousand times over. You were intoxicating, and the thought of kissing you again and finally marking your skin cemented his decision of keeping you in this space he crafted in his kingdom. You needed time to consider his proposal, that was to be expected. He would allow you the time you needed. All he had to do was assure you of your safety and well-being, seeing as scaring you even further might prolong his wait.

He knew you would wake soon, and he would explain his actions when you do. You would have no reason to refuse him, then.

***

You woke with a start, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, just to sit up and think.

You had lost count of the number of days you had spent in your glass enclosure, and there was nothing much to do except to observe your surroundings - nothing but a vast space, where distant stars glittered in the black tapestry that was space, with a single source of light in sight, like the sun, only that it offered no warmth. That, and to ruminate on the events that led you to this situation.

You remembered when you first came to, locked in this glorified cage. You still thought you were dreaming then, so you did everything you could to try waking yourself up, only none of it worked. That was when he appeared.

Dream of the Endless, he had called himself. The King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm.

He claimed to rule the place he had taken you to, which he called the Dreaming. He had then explained that everything humanity (‘your kind,’ you recalled him saying) had ever dreamed of in its sleep was as real as everything it sees, hears, and feels in its waking hours and that he presided over them since the first living creature dreamed, and will do so until the end of all life.

He had revealed that he had watched over you, your dreams and your waking hours, since your first meeting, and that he had not meant to scare you, only that he wished for you to accept his advances.

That was the first of his many attempts to get you to say ‘yes.’

He would ask in many ways: a long walk in this garden he called the Fiddler’s Green; a sumptuous dinner in one of his many grand halls; an adventurous tryst in one of the humans’ dreams. He had promised that if you agreed to be courted by him and be with him, he would take you out of your enclosure and release you, allow you to roam his kingdom as his lover, forever wanting nothing and lavishing in all the riches and trinkets he could offer.

From then, you knew you would never be allowed back into the life you had worked so hard to build, humble as it may have been.

At first, your response to his attempts of coaxing you into a relationship with him was a string of incoherent curses and screaming. After a while, they were plain ignored - his face would remain blank every time, if not a tad disappointed, or hurt.

You didn’t care.

But you were also lying if you said it hadn’t worn out your resolve. This day was one of them.

You missed food. Not that you were ever hungry - he had removed hunger from you in your imprisonment. He had given you the gift of dreamless sleep as well, but in your time alone with nothing to do except wake and sleep, you’d give almost anything to have dreams again. You had no other company except him and the vast, endless space beyond your cage that he had conjured for you. You being sealed away from everything was driving you closer to insanity every day, and that was his design: to make you desperate enough to submit to his will.

Without warning, your hair stood at the back of your neck, your senses on high alert.

Dream of the Endless had arrived.

“My precious little saviour,” he greeted in that deep, velvety voice you had grown to hate and find comfort in at the same time. “I have come for you.”

Your captor had a warm smile on his regal features, one that didn’t match his true intentions. You stared at him with a blank expression and let his greeting go unanswered.

“Will you join me for a walk in my garden?”

He kept his eye contact with you as he waited for your response. It unnerved you to no end, the way he held your gaze with those ocean-blue eyes of his, knowing a single ‘no’ from you would instantly turn it to the black ones you have known to fear. When you opened your mouth to speak, it actually hurt your throat - you hadn’t spoken in a long time.

“Will you be locking me up again, after?”

He grinned at you and tilted his head slightly. “If you behave and do as I say, I will not.”

Only a single tear that escaped from your eye betrayed that gnawing feeling of defeat in your gut. Finally swallowing whatever pride you had left, you made a decision.

“Yes.”

You should never have bought him that damned loaf of bread.

***

Just a little one-shot I wanted to write to get myself out of a writing rut I've been stuck with wanting Comatose to be perfect it stressed me out too much :// I will still work on it, I promise! I just need to get this out the way to get my writing mojo back :D

Also, what do you think of making this a two-shot with SMUTTY goodness?? hmmm the thots, they plague meeeee

Thank you for reading!!!! Please engage and all that it's really appreciate iiiit

***

Good Morning. Happy New Week☀️

Promises Three: Subtle Dreaming

Dark!Morpheus x (female)reader, fantasy/medieval AU, 18+

Master List

Dream of the Endless had been promised a bride.

Chapter track: Rainbow - The Temple of the King - Algal the Bard

It has been... a rough couple weeks. But I'm back! Hope you enjoy! Your comments and questions mean the world! Special thanks to all you lovely rebloggers! I'm still trying to figure out how to respond without essentially reposting half a dozen times, but I see you, you make my week!

Subtle Dreaming

A knock on the door disturbed her work. It was an hour past midnight, when all but the youngest servants and ardent lovers had retired to their beds with heads full of dreams, a time a wandering mice and cat’s work.

But she wasn’t surprised, even less when she opened the door of her windowless chamber to find a young lady in her nightdress, wrapped in a shawl with wary hope in her eyes and a candle in her hand. Alis Everard. The youngest of a large family, and the only child still unmarried – and a child she was, barely thirteen, and of all the reasons the bard hated the king of Meiren, summoning such young suitors for his Endless guest might be the greatest. Her face hadn’t quite lost childhood’s rounded cheeks, and the seams on her nightgown had recently been let out after a growth spurt.

“I see your father is impatient,” the bard said. Wrapped in her own shawl over her own nightgown, she felt more than ever the noble’s equal. After such a long life, she understood better than most how little rank protected one from life and how much a peasant’s child was like a queen’s. She was the girl’s elder by far, but she’d been young once, and what youth didn’t go sneaking down corridors in the dark during their first trip to court?

“He bid me seek your counsel. May I come in?”

Stepping back, she ushered the girl into her sparse little room. “Of course.”

Once the girl was through, she moved to close the door, but a slippered foot darted through the gap to block it. “Not so quicky!”

The foot neatly kicked the door back open as the bard released it, and a young woman – who was, at least, properly a woman – swept by in a dressing gown of satin and a riot of chestnut curls. “I enjoy midnight jaunts, but not being spied on one.”

The bard did her very best not to smile, but failed entirely. She knew this late guest as well. Eilwyn Alder. The third generation in her family the bard had befriended, and she sat next to little Alis on the bed with the casual grace of someone entitled to it.

“My grandmother sent me for your thoughts, though I’m sure she’ll collect them for herself tomorrow. But I am a dutiful granddaughter, so here I am.” She blinked doe eyes as the door finally fell shut, poised and perfect coquettish grace. “So, what news? Or will I lose my beauty sleep for nothing?”

Pulling out a stool from beneath her tiny desk, the bard said, “I haven’t spent an hour in his presence, and I’ve had a long ride, so forgive me if I haven’t yet taken the full measure of the king’s guest and his schemes.”

Alis wriggled on the bed, twisting her hands up in her shawl. Her eyes bounced between shadows, looking for threats like the Dream Lord’s nightmares might crawl out of the walls to exact vengeance for some imagined slight. Not that they couldn’t, but the bard assumed Lord Morpheus had better things to do with his time than torment one overwrought teenager who didn’t want to marry him.

“What if he eats his bride on the wedding night? Like the Lindworm?”

Eilwyn scoffed, and the bard donned a gentle smile, even if she couldn’t keep the laugher from her voice.

“He’s Endless, not a dragon.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means you’d be better off with a dragon.”

The child curled into the corner of the bed, sinking into the blankets with her shawl swallowing the lower half of her face. Looking for comfort where her companions’ mirth had failed. The bard reached over to pat her knee, taking the opportunity to change the subject. “Honestly dragons aren’t so bad. One of my patrons is a dragon, you know. I was attending my yearly visit to his lair when your great, worried, noble parents called for me.”

A whisper of a promised story lured Alis’s eyes away from visions of doom. She glanced at Eilwyn, like she’d confirm the tale. The older girl gladly took up the role of expert.

“Everyone knows that,” she sniffed.

“Is it…” Alis mulled over the idea, confusing herself with her own bevy of questions. “Is it a… nice dragon?”

“These days he is. But he wasn’t always.”

The hook snared Alis’s attention, and her posture softened, though she didn’t leave the corner of the little bed. In fact, she made herself more comfortable, settling like a kitten, and a stab of rage that anyone thought this little girl ought to be considered as a wife seared through the gathering strands of the bard’s story.

She took a blanket and settled it over the child as she began to speak, shielding her from a king’s machinations, a world too big for little hands, and prying eyes.

.O.O.O.

Dream of the Endless retired to the chambers the King set aside for his use, though he had little use for them at all. He would not sleep. He had no intention of entertaining in the parlor, or writing missives at the richly appointed desk. There was no book on the shelves he did not already possess, and he left the food prepared for him to grow cold and stale on the table.

He did sip the wine, and in the darkest hours he found his amusement in wandered the sleeping minds of the castle. Boredom drove him. Cruelty, even. Vengeance called for the king to atone for his wounded pride, and the decade since the human’s error only gave Dream time to image new and wondrous torments. He wanted to watch the king’s schemes crumble in the dread nightmares prowling the would-be suitors’ dreams. He enjoyed the seeds of hate planted in parents’ hearts, the doubt in subjects who’d been nothing but loyal until this gathering.

The king’s story would be a horror, a kind of tragedy that left wounds in his lands and subjects the turn of generations would not heal. These seven days would be the fuse, a prologue to terror and loss. A lesson none would soon forget, lest they bring such punishment on their own loves.

He drifted, savoring the fears he would shape to his own ends. Until words snared his attention. A half-heard tale of a dragon spinning through recent memories of a soft touch and a smile in the face of inescapable dread.

He found a young mind loosely tethered to the Dreaming, caught in the tides running between the conscious and subconscious, where words and images of the Waking cast strange reflections in the fading thoughts before sleep. She led him to a plain, simple room deep in the castle. A place for high-ranking members of staff, perhaps. Utilitarian and uninspiring. Not a place this noble child belonged. But she was not alone, and as she dozed, Dream borrowed her senses.

Voices. One he recognized. The bard the king so detested. He knew her as he knew all dreamers, and he sensed his sister’s touch upon her.

She spoke of him.

“He’s the Prince of Stories. A bride market is beneath him. This is how political unions for picky lords looking for pretty faces are arranged, not how one of the most powerful creatures to ever live seeks a partner,” the bard said.

She was not wrong, of course. The story weaver spied the loose strings in the tale, the ragged ends that did not match, though she had yet to understand the pattern he wove.

“Whatever he wants, it isn’t love or a warm body in his bed. There’s something else. I just have to figure out if that something is a danger to any of you.”

So, loyalty did grow in the king’s court. Just not to the monarch. Dream felt the peace the bard’s presence brought the dreamer half-snared in her sleep. A quiet, sure thing. The confidence children had in oak trees their parents and grandparents climbed when they were young.

The other voice in the room did not speak as a child. This one was old enough for caution, and it worried for the old oak as well as those who sheltered beneath.

“To us, I should think.”

Did the bard not fear him? Had she stood outside as the storyteller for so long she’d forgotten she could be part of them as well?

“Whatever happens, dear, I’ll survive it.” Her only worry was for those she perceived as in her care. The children of children she’d watched grow. A touch carried through the dreamer’s skin and into their subconscious, a kind voice leading her back to the Waking. “It isn’t time to sleep yet. You must return to your room…”

The fragile link collapsed, and the bridge between the servants’ quarters and the noble guest room dissolved.

Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, sat in his darkened chambers in the court of a damned king, and thought as he sipped from his wine that he would enjoy seeing the bard at work. He must amuse himself for seven days, after all, until the time of the agreement ran out, and she was a surprising creature.

The most surprising he’d seen in some time.

𓅨 Sweet Nightmares: Chapter One

Sweet Nightmares: When not even Nightmare Dream can chase you off from visiting his realm whenever you wished, he decides to show his eldritch side. In other words: Dream doesn’t understand why you have such free rein within his realm and tries to scare you off. Jokes on him, you’re into it.

Warnings: Dream in Denial, Explicit Language, Reader Messes W/ Dream, I DON’T KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT THIS.

To Note: Eldritch!Dream x AFAB!Reader, Mostly Dream at his Wit’s End with Reader, Part of the ’Sweet Nightmares’ Event by @roguelov.

Word Count: ~7.2k

Masterlist | Next

You often wondered what it would be like to swim in the Ocean of Dreams. It often looked dark and uninviting, surely a representation of its true purpose… but that water also looked so beautiful to you. Things in The Dreaming weren’t what they seemed. Sometimes cold was hot, or sweet was spicy, an apple might taste like a peach, even a sunflower you had been happily looking at had turned into a rose. At times you thought the realm was purposefully fucking with you. No. It was fucking with you. So you liked to fuck with it back.

You were fairly sure that the realm adored it when you interacted with its jokes and mischievous nature.

“If you try swimming in the Ocean of Dreams, it’s just gonna spit you back out.” Imber, the dream of rain, spoke from where she sat next to you, basking in the low pressure of the air. It was going to rain soon. You gave her a pointed look, fingers picking at the edge of your shirt.

“You’re being negative, Im,” You stated, making up your mind and pulling your shirt over your head and dropping it to the towel you had been sitting on. Next you wiggled yourself out of the jeans the Dreaming gave you when you had appeared this night. “And I’m curious… like, what is it like?” You asked, tilting your head to the side. “Is it like swimming in a regular ocean? Is it salty? Cold? It kind of looks like it’d be freezing… Does it have the same buoyancy as the oceans in the Waking World? Can I drink from it? Are there fish? Like dream fish? That’d be really awesome if there were dream fish…”

“Please, for the love of the Endless realms, do not drink those waters,” Imber exclaimed, wondering what kind of unhinged mortal would wish to swim in those waters let alone drink the Ocean of Dreams! Apparently you. The dream watched as you deposited the rest of your clothes on your towel and trotted over to the dock extending over the darkened water of the Ocean of Dreams. Your toes gripped the edge of the dock, your eyes staring down into the black water. You saw your reflection, nothing else. The water was dark, black even. So mysterious. You wanted to know what lay beneath. Your reflection tilted its head to the side and smiled at you, then it held its hand out, beckoning for you to jump. “Really, you shouldn’t—”

You stepped off the dock.

Dropping into the water, you were surprised to find that it wasn’t cold at all, or in anyway unpleasant. The water felt like it was pillowing your body, gentle and caring. You kicked your way back to the surface and your head popped out of the water. The look on Imber’s face was priceless. It was like the realm had dropped out beneath her and the universe was ending. Then she was exploding on you.

“What do you think you are doing!?” She screeched, waving her hands and desperately wanting to drag you out, but knowing that she could not enter the water. “The Ocean of Dreams is dangerous!” You blinked at her from where you were treading water, not understanding why she was so upset. Literally nothing was happening to you. “Those waters kill!”

“You are being over dramatic,” You replied pleasantly, wishing you had tried this sooner. It really was quite nice. While Imber went off on a tangent about your apparent need to get out of the ocean, you felt something sliding around your ankle. Ignoring what was going on beneath the waves, you gave Imber a frank look. “Really, Im, I’m fi—” You were sharply pulled beneath the surface of the water by your ankle, only having a moment to take in a gasp of air.

Bubbles streamed around your body as you were tugged down for a few disorienting moments, your hands flailing as you righted yourself. Eyes opening, you found that the water didn’t sting. Nice. You looked around for what had pulled you down, and came face to face with a black form that looked remarkably like yourself. Whoa. The mirror of you smiled deviously, and offered her hand. Now, there was no way this truly was your own reflection/shadow, you knew enough about the Dreaming to know they didn’t exist… but what she was, was most likely the Ocean of Dreams herself. Because it was definitely a she. That excited you, so you reached out and took her hand.

You were pulled along and only moments later you were met with an explosion of colors and wonders that left you shocked. The Ocean of Dreams was truly beautiful. As you went, you could see flashes of dreams, some fairytales, other nightmares. All of which were pure unadulterated beautiful creations. Why was the Ocean of Dreams so forbidden?? This was a paradise to you! The Ocean of Dreams glanced back at you and you beamed at her, her echoing grin was but a mere flash before she was dragging you through a field of kelp at a faster pace.

There were these little flashes of light in front of you now, bursting like tiny canons explosions. You were ignorant to the slow build of uncomfortable pressure within your chest, your lungs straining for fresh oxygen. Deeper and deeper you were pulled, each new sight even more beautiful than the last. A medieval dream full of knights, a princess, and a dragon. Another a zombie apocalypse where the zombies were running from the humans. A child winning a Nobel peace prize for curing cancer…

Your grasp upon the Ocean of Dreams slipped, but the being continued to hold you, eager to show you everything. Your mind slipped into a state of in-between and you felt even more weightless than you had before. Soft songs echoed around you, slowly fading in a hush… unlike the peacefulness you had felt slipping under, coming back was rough and jarring.

Water surged up your throat and out of your mouth as you harshly coughed, suddenly finding your body nestled on the sand with a very worried Imber clutching your shivering and jerking body. Worse? Morpheus was on one knee next to you, his eyes blazing mercury while he glared at you in complete and utter rage. You finished heaving up saline water, curtesy of the dream lord’s touch on your neck coaxing the dream liquid from your body. You rasped and coughed, leaning back on your shins with a grimace.

“Have you no self preservation!?” The dream lord thundered at you, physical thunder and lightning manifesting over the Ocean of Dreams. She was upset that your and her fun was interrupted. You blinked at Morpheus as he raged at you, his words cross, irate, warning. Nothing new to you. He never liked that you pushed the boundaries of his realm and rules. Well he never seemed to like you period. “I have half the mind to banish you for such insolence.”

“I think she’s lonely,” You protested smartly. “You should interact with her more.”

“You dare suggest to tell me how to run my realm?” Morpheus thundered yet again, lightning flashed and struck sand not that far from you. “You are out of line.”

“She deserves attention too you know,” You fired back as the dream lord rose to his feet and promptly stormed away, his coat fluttering behind him. Imber threw her arms around around your neck.

“Don’t ever do that again! You would have drowned if Lord Dream hadn’t rescued you!”  The dream sobbed. Blinking, you tilted your head to the side in confusion. Why had Morpheus pulled you out? Did he not find your antics most annoying within his realm? You figured that if something ever happened to you, he’d just let you die to rid himself of you. He threatened you enough about banishment… While Imber continued to hug you, you stared at the disturbed waters of the Ocean of Dreams. She was already missing you.

The library was one of your favorite places to visit in the Dreaming. The endless amount of books kept you well entertained when your friends were busy with their work. On this day, you were playing hide and seek with Matthew. Shelves moved around you, shifting from letter to letter and genre… Matthew was currently hunting you down (without cheating) and his calls for you echoed throughout the endless library.

Holding back a snicker, you crawled across the top of the bookshelf you were currently perched on. Lucienne had been monitoring your hide and seek game, amused from watching the shelves cleverly hide you from Matthew’s sights. It was clear that the realm liked you, clear that no matter where you went within the Dreaming, the realm itself came alive as you interacted with it. So she was fine with you playing around in the library, as long as nothing happened to the books.

She was currently watching you army crawl across the tops of towering bookshelves, wondering how you had managed to get yourself there in the first place! No doubt the library had helped you up there… and now it was helping to hide you as well. Chuckling beneath her breath, Lucienne shifted her gaze to Matthew fluttering around, calling out to you with sassy remarks.

“Oh come on!” The raven exclaimed, gliding around a corner, only to come to an empty aisle. “Where are you hiding!? This has been going on for like, ten minutes!!”

“Oh come on, Matty!” You teased him, resting on your stomach for a moment while kicking your feet back. “It’s not like I’m playing tricks on you.” Matthew let out a disgruntled snort and dropped to the floor of the library.

“You totally are!” He complained, stamping his foot on the hardened wood beneath him. “How else would this game still be going on!? Isn’t it my turn to hide??”

“You still haven’t found me though,” You sang with a wide grin. Matthew stomped his little feet some more and flapped his wings, clearly at his wits end.

“Fine! Fine!” He exclaimed in a blustery tone. “You win this one! You win this one now just tell me—”

“What are you doing within the Library, Matthew?” Matthew hopped to attention and you leaned closer to the edge of the bookshelf to see that Morpheus had arrived. Who shit in his wheaties this morning?

“Oh, hi sir,” Matthew chittered nervously, shifting from one foot to the other. Morpheus’ intimidating gaze narrowed. “I was just— you know…”

“Matthew was tending to a dreamer, my lord,” Lucienne spoke up, stepping into the picture. “You tasked him with helping around the realm when away from your side, he is doing as such.”

“And where is this dreamer?” Morpheus pressed, turning back to Matthew.

“Oh, you see, sir, we were playing a game of hide and seek so I don’t actually know…” Matthew trailed off the moment blue started glowing silver. Well, he didn’t know where you were, and his boss was clearly going to go nuclear at any moment.

“I’m up here,” Your voice was soft as it floated down to the three beings, and three sets of eyes lifted to stare at you peeking over the edge of the bookshelf you were currently atop. You could have sworn that Morpheus’ eye twitched. Matthew’s beak dropped open as he let out a screech in outrage.

“You were up there the whole time!?” He loudly exclaimed, flapping his wings and taking to the air to flutter up to where you were sprawled out. You grinned at the raven as he landed beside you.

“Yeah, pretty much,” You confirmed, pushing yourself up onto your forearms. Matthew wanted to be mad at you for doing such a thing, but at the same time, he was hella impressed.

“Okay you got me good on that,” He admitted while a storm began brewing below you. Morpheus was not pleased, not pleased at all. How had you gotten up there? And to play such a silly and menial childs games within the grand library of the Dreaming!? Your audacity appeared to have no bounds!

“What are you doing perched atop these sacred shelves?” Morpheus questioned severely, glaring up at your lounging body. You blinked at him, had he not been listening to what Matthew had just said?

“Playing a game of hide and seek, it was Matty’s turn to seek.”

“Yeah, we were just having some harmless fun,” Matthew piped up, hoping his boss wouldn’t go all nightmare on you. He really liked you and didn’t want you to be scared off let alone banished. Outside the palace thunder boomed, shaking the foundation. Your gaze didn’t stray from Morpheus’ bright silver one as you stared him down.

“Harmless… fun,” The dream lord was almost growling now, you nodded before patting the bookshelf beneath you.

“Oh yeah, hide and seek in this library? It’s like the masters edition. Top notch entertainment.” You happily explained, shifting into a sitting position. “Again might I suggest interacting—”

“Enough!” Morpheus cut you off. “Get down from the bookshelf immediately.”

“Spoil all the fun why don’t you, grumpy pants,” You mumbled, moving to climb down from your perch. But as you were doing as he had asked, the library decided to have a little fun of its own. With a shiver and tremble of wood, you lost your grip and tumbled from the bookshelf. A small yelp left your lips while Lucienne gasped and rushed forwards. She of course wouldn’t be able to help you, or catch you in time to prevent a very painful fall… but Morpheus was right there to catch your dropping body.

He easily caught you, surprising himself because did you not irk him to no end so why would he catch you? You and Morpheus spent a moment staring at each other, surprise plastered on both of your faces. What the hell had just happened? Heat creeped up your neck and you were instantly a flustered mess.

“Dream over, bye,” Just as suddenly as you had dropped into his arms, you were gone, leaving behind a dumbstruck Morpheus. He was frozen where he stood, arms out like he was still holding your body. He had a solid blue screen behind his silver eyes. Lucienne rushed up to her lord in a frazzled state.

“Sir? Sir?” She questioned, trying to get a response from the frozen dream lord. He was slowly rebooting. Matthew fluttered down to a nearby table and cocked his head to the side.

“Do ya think Y/N broke him? I’ve never seen them go all peace out on us before…” Matthew commented as Morpheus’ mind finished rebooting. Rage blistered across Morpheus’ features.

“They dare to undermine the rules of my realm and relieve themself from their own dream!?” Morpheus hissed out, finally coming to his senses on what had just happened. You had fallen from the top of the book shelf, he had caught you, and then you had woken yourself up! That was not an ability any regular dreamer should have and you were clearly displaying an unusual source of power.

“Sir, I believe that they are simply trying to enjoy the realm to the fullest—” The glow within Morpheus’ eyes had Lucienne cutting her words off and she watched as he angrily stormed away. Matthew exchanged looks with the librarian.

“So… am I just over thinking it or are they…”

“It would be in your best interest to stay out of their business, Matthew,” Lucienne adjusted her glasses and busied herself. This was not something she was going to stick her nose in unless absolutely necessary.

“If I get trapped in that stupid hour glass you better break me out,” You muttered to Concinō. Your dream friend twitched the corner of his mouth, making the whiskers of his current form, move ever so slightly. He was totally taking pleasure in this, you just knew it. At the start of your night, you’d come across Concinō, the dream of singing harmoniously… and somehow, he had talked you into assisting him with a dream of his. Little did you know that you would end up playing a Disney princess.

Exciting and fun, but you were acutely aware of what happened in Aladdin, and weren’t exactly fond of the idea that Jafar would be setting his sights on you. Memories of being scared as the hourglass full of sand slowly buried Jasmine alive still haunted you, even into adulthood. Not even the fine cloth draped upon your body and jewels enhancing your natural beauty could distract you from that worry.

“You think I will allow any harm to befall you?”

“We are in a dream, Concinō,” You muttered at him beneath your breath. “The psychological mind fuckery I deal with on a nightly basis is getting a bit too much.”

“Which is why I thought to invite you, this is a little girl’s dream, it is not meant to be a nightmare.” You gave Concinō a blank stare for a moment before your ‘father’ came bustling in… in all his short and round gloriousness. It was a nearly comical sight to you and that made you giggle a little and smile. You set down the hairbrush you had been absentmindedly running through Jasmine’s long hair and twisted in your seat.

“Father,” You greeted happily, following along with the script. “I had the most wonderful time,” The little girl watching the dream play out in the corner of Jasmine’s large bedroom giggled and pressed her hands against her little mouth. “I’m so happy!”

“You should be, Jasmine,” Jasmine’s father replied, his eyes glowing an eery red. Jafar had already gotten to him. “I have chosen a husband for you.” The remaining door to your room boomed open and the long faced Jafar appeared, striding towards you with a regal yet smug bird perched on his shoulder.

“You’re speechless, I see. A fine quality in a wife.” Jafar said, taking your hand. You were momentarily stunned by the sheer audacity of this dude, but them remembered you had a part to play and jerked back.

“I will never marry you,” You retorted as the little girl pipped up.

“Yeah! She’s never gonna marry a creep like you. You’re mean!” You nearly laughed at her comment but stayed in character. From behind you, Concinō let out a rumble from his chest in warning.

“Father I choose Prince Ali.”

“Prince Ali left,” Jafar retorted smugly.

“Better check your crystal ball again, Jafar,” A voice spoke from behind you. You whirled around in a swirl of blue skirts and proceeded to gawk at the dream that had formed Prince Ali. You wouldn’t mind being swept off your feet by him. The bird on Jafar’s shoulder squawked angrily as Prince Ali stomped up to you, eyes ablaze.

“Tell them the truth, Jafar. You tried to have me killed.” You let out a dramatic gasp, which the little girl did as well. Honestly her reactions were making this whole experience worth the trouble…

“What?” Jafar exclaimed. “Ridiculous nonsense, Your Highness. He’s obviously lying.” 

“Obviously… lying…” Jasmine’s father mumbled, hypnotized by the snake scepter. You stepped in front of him and tried to shake the hypnotism from this mind.

“Father, what is wrong with you!?” Aladdin jumped forwards and snatched the snake scepter.

“I know what’s wrong!” He shouted before smashing the head of the snake on the floor. It broke and Jasmine’s father gasped.

“Oh, my!”

“Your Highness, Jafar’s been controlling you with this.” Aladdin continued, holding out the scepter.

“What?” He stammered. “Jafar? You, you traitor!”

“Get him! Lock him up!” The little girl cheered on. So the guards were called and were slowly dragging him off, but just as soon as Jafar has waltzed into the room, he disappeared in a cloud of red smoke.

“Oh no,” You murmured to yourself as Aladdin stepped up to you and Jasmine’s father began rambling. You let him wrap his arms around your body, and stared into his eyes before muttering at him. “I’m not kissing you.”

A sparkle appeared and his smile widened.

“I’m pretty sure Concinō would bite my head off if I tried,” The dream replied. “Besides, I’m just a side character in this dream.”

That made you chuckle as the dream in question eyed you both scrupulously. Concinō was in charge of this dream, in charge of making the little girl’s dreaming thoughts reality for this night. You had little control over what was going to happen next. Jasmine’s father dragged Aladdin off, talking excitedly about marriage plans and you went to slump down on a sofa with an exasperated sigh.

When it came time for Jafar’s takeover, you hadn’t considered how terrifying it might be to actually experience what Jasmine went through. You didn’t appreciate the crimson outfit you had been forced into, and you certainly didn’t appreciate being in chains at Jafar’s side. You had already thrown wine at the idiot sorcerer, told him off (much to the little girls egging on, she found it very entertaining), and even stomped on his foot.

He wasn’t happy with you.

You had done your best to distract the sorcerer after he had wished for you to fall in love with him. Because hello, one of the big no no’s of Genie magic was no love spells. Jafar didn’t know that yet thankfully, so you were holding his attention while Aladdin snuck in and slowly made his way over to the magic lamp.

“What street rat?” You cooed, delicately brushing your fingers along Jafar’s face. You were never doing this again. But your distraction was doomed to fail and Jafar caught sight of Aladdin in the reflection of the tiara you wore and promptly jerked around to address him. You lurched in front of him and tried to grab the scepter. Fighting against him was a loosing battle and you were flung backwards onto your rump which made you moan.

“Get the lamp!” Aladdin called from where he had taken your place in struggling for the scepter. You scrambled on your hands and knees, lurching up and scurrying over to the throne where the lamp was resting.

“Ah, ah, ah, Princess!” Jafar called, flinging Aladdin to the side. “Your time is up!” He flicked his scepter at you and you felt your body getting thrown back. You had to close your eyes so you didn’t get sick, but the topsy turvy feeling finally dissipated. Opening your eyes, you stared at a wall of glass before panicking and slapping your hands against the glass of the giant hourglass you were stuck in. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You had hoped the little girl would deviate from the whole ‘Jasmine almost dies in the hour glass suffocated from sand’ plot. Apparently the little dreamer was a purist.

Sand poured on your head from overhead and you jerked in place, trying to avoid the stream. You slammed your fists harder against the glass, hoping you could break it, you had been able to manipulate some dreams before. But you had no such luck, the glass remained strong and the sand was quickly up to your waist. While Aladdin was tricking afar into wishing to be a Genie, you raked your nails across the glass and desperately searched for the now pint sized Concinō. He was gone, dismissed by a very irate Morpheus who had sensed your meddling yet again.

The dream darkened around you and the disney palace warped. Clawing the sand in front of you, you barely saw Jafar’s figure standing in front of the glass. He looked different now, taller, darker, more menacing. A few gasps for air departed your lips as you stared the irate Morpheus in the eyes. Then sand completely covered you. You panicked against the coarse material, feeling it scrape against your skin and impede your ability to breathe.

The glass holding you trapped disappeared within the hourglass. You fell, sprawling in front of a livid Nightmare Morpheus in a tumble of red fabric and sand. Coughing for a few moments because it seemed like you had breathed in several particles of sand, you slowly lifted your head.

You caught glowing mercury eyes, first glaring at you for being in the dream in the first. The complete and utter audacity! You were so meddlesome! But then Morpheus took in what you were wearing and his mind went blank. Crimson fabric covered your curves, and jewels dotted your throat and head, you looked every bit of the part you had been playing. Beautiful princess trapped in an hourglass filling with sand. It was an… enviable sight and that disturbed the Endless, certainly even more when sand slipped from your shoulders as you shifted in place. It had the luxury of caressing your beauty, beauty he had been unconsciously admiring. Now he wanted you… a… deplorable thought… surely… he would never… absolutely not… you were a pest… a pest he disliked… greatly… he didn’t like you… not one bit…

“Jafar?” A squeaky voice questioned, you glanced to your right to see the little girl confused. Understandable, this was supposed to be a dream, but now it was a nightmare. “You’re supposed to be defeated and stuck in a lamp.” Morpheus didn’t even spare her a glance.

“This dream… is over,” He spoke through gritted teeth. Sand once again spun around you, withdrawing you from the Dreaming and causing you to jerk awake in bed. You breathed heavily, your heart racing. Did he just try and scare you off with a nightmare?

“Dick move, Morpheus, dick move, it was her dream not yours,” You muttered, rolling onto your side. “It’s gonna take more than a nightmare to chase me off.” You closed your eyes and tried to get back to sleep. The only thing Morpheus managed to do was rescue you from a situation that had scared you. Being trapped in that hourglass was scarier than Nightmare Morpheus.

You were lounging with a book in your lap on what should have been a very uncomfortable place to sit… but the Dreaming of course would not have you sitting on something so uncomfortable and had softened the seat of Morpheus’ throne for you. That made his throne a very nice place to sit and read… which you were doing happily until Matthew’s call rang throughout the large throne room. You purposefully kept your eyes trained on the book in your hands, nonchalantly reading your passage.

The moment Morpheus set his eyes upon his throne, and saw you sitting there, he stopped short and took a moment to think. Surely you wouldn’t be this insolent! But there you were, looking quite comfortable and entirely at home. And quite gorgeous— He cleared that daring through from his mind and strode forward, a sour expression on his face.

“Your insolence appears to have no bounds,” He growled at you, rage quickly surfacing once more. You’d been pressing on his nerves, moving onto the next without fail and building his frustration. “Remove yourself at once.”

You eyed him, knowing that this was most likely really irritating him… which was your plan in the first place. Not one dream nor nightmare thought you’d actually sit on Morpheus’ throne. So you had strolled on up to the chair and planted your bottom on it. Now you were watching Morpheus’ patience run thin, worn down by your constant antics within his realm. You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that you liked it when he showed the Nightmare side of him. The endless was getting very frustrated that he couldn’t scare you off.

You chose not to push him and just smiled pleasantly and winked yourself out of the Dreaming. The Dreaming refused to change Morpheus’ throne back to its original state for three weeks.

You hadn’t told anyone what your plan was, you just executed it. Morpheus was supposed to be gone from the realm for several days and nights, which gave you the perfect window to pull off your next prank. You’d spent the better part of this visit moving every piece of furniture you could find… an inch over from where it usual was. It wouldn’t be obvious and to most eyes, everything would look normal. But not Morpheus. He was highly sensitive to his realm, could detect every minute change down to a single weed. But he wasn’t in the realm to feel the changes you made directly, so you could get away with the movements without him knowing.

When he returned, everything would look the same, but feel the same? No. And you relished watching him squirm on the inside trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with his realm. He was so unflappable at times, stoic and unchanging. Kind of like a marble statue… no, you were sure that a marble statue would show more emotions than Morpheus. Ignoring his angry, glowy eyes he gave you when pissed off. You wondered what he would look like it he smiled for once (something that you knew would never happen), you also wondered what his cosmic form looked like. Lucienne had once told you that while he did have an anthropomorphic form, it was only one form he had.

He was already a stunningly beautiful creature as a mortal, you wondered what his non-human form looked like. Would he even look remotely humanlike? Or would he be all wonky and chaotic, a blob of cosmic energy with no real distinguishable form to be seen.

“Hmm, squishy,” You commented to yourself as you struggled to move his throne exactly an inch to the left. “I wonder what he’d feel like to sleep on if he was like that?”

“What’re you doing?” You jumped in place before relaxing and looking at Matthew.

“Hi Matty,” you greeted before tilting your head. “What’re you doing here? I thought you were with Morpheus?”

“He sent me to check on you because he thinks you’re gonna mess with something while he’s gone.” You bit your lip to stop a bout of laughter that wanted to come up and Matthew hopped forwards, examining you a little closer. “You aren’t… messing with anything right?”

“Course not, absolutely wouldn’t while he’s out, why would he think of such a thing?” You blurted out. Matthew instantly knew you were up to something, and looked closer.

“Okay… why are you touching his throne? He got real mad about that after your last prank. Could’ve sworn the throne actually sulked for a few weeks…” Matthew muttered to himself, immediately deciding that he wanted no part in whatever shenanigan you were up to this time. His boss was getting really wound up by you and ready to implode. Matthew would rather watch this event from the sidelines than be in the midst of it.

“Just looking at the carvings,” You answered, patting the cold marble beneath your fingers. “I’m also wondering what he was thinking of when he made it given the decorations… like how does he even figure that shit out in his head?  Or is it like, automatic? Snap fingers and bam a-la-throne?”

“I… have absolutely no idea,” Matthew replied, his own mind now wondering how Morpheus had designed everything. “I don’t know how any of this Endless magic shit works, ya know?”

“It’s pretty awesome though,” You said while standing up and wiping your hands on your jeans. It was moved just enough. Perfect. Now you just had to wait for Morpheus to get back. While Matthew flew back to give Morpheus a report that you weren’t messing with his realm, you whistled while making your way to the library to find something to read.

Morpheus had gotten so angry at your little stunt (that everyone in the dreaming thought was hilarious) that he had gone all Nightmare on you. Like blazing cosmos eyes, enormous figure, thunder and lightning. Even the palace had trembled. Lucienne had been frightened for you, thinking that perhaps you had finally pushed the Endless one prank too far… only Morpheus had just raged at you while you giggled deviously. Then you had just skittered your way out of the throne room leaving the rather irate Endless to fume. So Lucienne finally decided to intervene.

“Sir, if I may,” She spoke softly, still feeling the echoing rumbles of the realm trembling from Morpheus’ anger. Mercury eyes landed on his trusted librarian.

“What is it, Lucienne? Give me one good reason why I should not have them banished from this realm for all eternity.” The librarian shifted from one foot to the other.

“Sir, I do not believe that you truly dislike having them around.” Morpheus glared at her for the mere insinuation that he liked having you of all creatures around his realm. “You have given many threats of banishment, but have yet to follow through with your words…”

“And why do you believe that is?” Morpheus snapped out, his fingers digging into the armrests of his throne (which he had promptly returned to its rightful place an inch to the right).

“I believe, that perhaps, you have come to enjoy their visits?” Lucienne offered, steeling herself for the blow up that was surely to come. “And might I even add, that you might have come to…” She paused, searching for the correct words to say without getting herself sent to the darkness. “…care for them. Do you not contemplate their arrival within the realm every night before they do so?”

Morpheus was insulted that his library would suggest such a thing and his eyes certainly blazed silver.

“You dare suggest that I have formed feelings for such an insolent mortal!?” His voice came out in a hiss. “They are nothing but a nuisance to me and I wish for them to leave and never come back!”

Lucienne couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“But sir, if you truly wished for that, would you not have already done so?” The librarian bravely spoke. “In order to deal with such… feelings, accordingly, you should decide upon the decision to banish them or not.”

Morpheus hadn’t made a decision on what to do with you. No, he had decided to show you his final form. His true form. A form that would surely scare you off and he’d never had to deal with your incessant pranks, never have to see you walking his halls never, never have to be tempted by your smiles and laughter. You were impervious to many a thing, but he doubted you wouldn’t be scared of his ultimate cosmic form. He didn’t really have a physical body in the anthropomorphic sense, he was just a mass of Endless that was abstractly shaped like his mortal self. Surely you’d be terrified and the temptation that had driving him to the brink of insanity would finally be gone.

But his plan to scare you by showing a side of him that was rarely shown had to be put on hold when his sibling decided to pay a visit. Of all siblings, it had to be Desire. They were still on thin ice with their last trickery that had cost the Dreaming 106 years, what reason did they have to want to visit now? But nonetheless, he relented simply for the sake of keeping an eye on them. Morpheus relented to their wish to wander throughout his realm, but he had every dream and nightmare on alert and several ravens flying overhead should anything go amiss.

When he picked up that you had entered his realm, he had dismissed your presence. He would have to deal with you on the morrow, he was far too busy with his realm at the moment to consider dealing with you and your jokes. Luckily for him, you weren’t planning on pulling off any pranks on this visit. He didn’t, however, consider what would happen should you cross paths with his sibling. No, you were just wandering around the palace gardens smelling different flowers and appreciating the scents and varieties. You had already received a flower from a tulip plant that had kindly offered you the single flower. Everywhere you went, the Dreaming came alive.

“I didn’t expect a dreamer to be so close to the palace,” A smooth voice called, drawing you from your mindless thoughts. Turning your head, you stopped in your tracks when you saw one of the most beautiful beings you had ever seen. Caught between masculine and feminine, they had pale hair and vibrant gold eyes… but you were distracted by the mischievous air that surrounded them. “My brother usually keeps the dreamers away from his more… intimate, of places.”

“Oh, so… I kind of just do what I want here,” You explained, wondering how many siblings Morpheus had. Then you leaned over and ran your fingers over a hydrangea bush. It stretched its leaves towards your touch. “He doesn’t stop me or anything, usually just gives me the glowy eyes, and huffs and puffs at my apparent audacity.”

Desire chuckled softly, amusement sparkling within their incredible golden eyes.

“Oh aren’t you an unusual one,” They mused, moving closer to where you stood. Gold examined every millimeter of your body, there was nothing special about you, clearly… but something made Dream latch onto you. “I can see why he would be intrigued.”

“Who says he’s intrigued?” You questioned, twisting your head to look at them with a raised eyebrow. “Do you know the number of times I’ve been threatened with banishment?”

“Like he would ever find it in his cold, cold, heart to banish a gem like you,” Desire cooed, not helping themself and reaching up to touch your face. They let their finger follow the curve of your jaw. “You’re far too precious.”

“I don’t know about that,” You disagreed, eyes wandering over their features. “Can I ask for your name? Morpheus doesn’t talk about his family, or talk to me at all if he has to…”

“I’m Desire,” Desire purred, eyes thinking with mischief and wonder. There were so many delicious things they could do with you. Ah. That would explain a lot.

“It’s nice to meet you Desire,” You replied happily. “I haven’t learned much about you or the other Endless…

“Hmm, it doesn’t surprise me,” Desire replied, taking a section of your hair between their impeccably manicured fingers. “Dream has always been very hush hush about us, it’s quite saddening actually…”

Something in you told you that it was, in fact, not saddening, to Desire and they were only looking to stir shit up. You were equipped in that category.

“Oh,” You sounded, you’re smiling fading despite your efforts to keep your face straight. You’d never been good at hiding your true emotions. “Well, that doesn’t surprise me, he’s kind of private isn’t he? I don’t blame him for that.” Golden eyes glimmered at you in scrutiny. You were an unusually impervious mortal, usually your kind would be falling at their feet by now in reverence. So they stepped closer and turned on the charm and desire, trying to wrap you up within their twisted influence. Surely you would make for a delicious game.

“Oh? But you are a guest within his realm,” Desire purred, dropping your hair to caress your cheek. While their teasing continued, Morpheus was made aware of his siblings proximity to you, his latest irking problem… and the very thin band of patience you’d been testing the constraints of for the last few months finally began to quiver. Disappearing from this throne room, Morpheus appeared in his garden and fixed his eyes on you and his sibling. Surely they were filling you with more noxious ideas to plague the Dreaming.

“Desire, that is enough,” Morpheus growled, the feet beneath your feet shaking. “Your meddling has gone far enough, leave,” Desire pouted and Nightmare Dream came out, his patience snapping like a violin string. You took a step back, feeling the ground beneath your feet trembling and shaking. Wow, Morpheus was sure getting worked up. You wondered if Desire was going to push his buttons further, but the Endless just smirked and winked out of the Dreaming.

“I think that was a little rude of you,” You commented, only to have the angry Dream Lord round on you and his eyes to brighten in anger almost to the point where you couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Rude!? Are you that desperate to irate me that must conspire with my sibling!??” Lightning cracked across the suddenly darkened sky. You blinked and scrunched your nose.

“What? No,” You replied in confusion. Since when had you purposefully annoyed him? All you wanted to do was have fun and explore the Dreaming, and have Morpheus interact with it more because clearly she was missing her lord. You never had any intention of purposefully irritating Morpheus. “I just wanted to—”

“My realm is not yours to do what you wish with mortal,” Morpheus hissed at you, his skin rippling with power. “And for you to conspire with Desire!?”

Your eyes flashed in anger and your hackles bristled.

“I was most certainly not—” Before you even finished your statement the air around you rippled and you felt like you were stuck in a hurricane. Well someone had certainly lost their temper, but you hadn’t seen him lose it like this. A few seconds later you felt yourself getting tossed and turned in place, the ground having long since disappeared from your feet. Flopping around, your arms cartwheeled until you managed to keep yourself stable and you worked the courage up to open your eyes. What the hell…?

In front of you was a swirling mass of cosmos, you could barely make out somewhat of a humanoid shape but it most certainly wasn’t a human. Your body dropped though the air and you flailed yet again before being caught but a shadowy hand.

“You are the bane of my existence with your incessant comings and goings, why do you not act like the rest of your kind!?” Oh. Holy shit. That was Morpheus?? You were rendered speechless, gawking at the inhumane mass of Endless energy. Even now, with Morpheus displaying his worst form, you were still not cowering in fear! “What must I do to rid myself of the irritation you cause me?”

“You are so beautiful,” You whispered, barely able to form any further thoughts as the beauty of the cosmic being in front of you filled your mind. The next few seconds stretched into what felt like years, your words curling and slipping around Morpheus’ monstrous being. You are so beautiful.

Your surroundings trembled and shook, and that topsy turvy feeling returned. Then you found yourself stretched out on a bed with a very bewildered and confused (not to mention worked up) Endless above you. Your eyelashes fluttered as Morpheus grasped your chin in a hard grip. You could feel the pent up energy he was barely holding back.

“You are the most vexing, troubling, meddlesome mortal I have ever had the displeasure of meeting.” Morpheus hissed in your face, his nose practically touching yours. Well excuse me! You didn’t exactly ask to meet him either! Your eyes flared with fire and you barked back, poking your finger into his chest.

“Well you are the most hard headed, egotistical, close minded—” Morpheus had-had enough of your lip and insolence, and silenced you the only way his tumultuous mind could think of: by kissing you.

Date Published: 8/11/23

Last Edit: 8/11/23

Masterlist | Next

~ all images from pinterest ~

Promises 1: Introduction

Dark!Morpheus x (female)reader, fantasy/medieval AU, 18+

Dream of the Endless has been promised a bride.

This is in a different style than the rest of the story, so it gets its own post. Brace for all the yummy, darker tropes, bards' shenanigans, and eventual smut. Hoping to post updates quickly (like every other day) between all my other projects, and your support means the world!

Introduction

The king of Meiren found himself as part of a tale. Unfortunate for him. Amusing for Dream of the Endless.

Ten years past, the king summoned him to beg a favor.

“I’ve been dreaming of the most beautiful woman.” Obsession flamed in the mortal’s eyes, brighter than the reflection of the single candle stood between them. “I’ve searched, but I fear she is not of this realm, and I will not take any other as queen.”

The king’s distress smelled of Desire’s work, some perfumed horror to break a nation over brief carnal pleasures. Or perhaps a faerie game, wicked and senseless beyond a moment’s amusement. Passing, paltry things that may become histories and novels in his library, but no business of his. He would not have helped if not for what the king offered in return.

“If you help me find this woman and take her to wife, I will return an equal boon.”

He spoke earnestly, but Dream turned away his desperation with a smirk and a slow shake of his head. “What boon might you offer one such as I? I have no need of your gold, your land, or your kingly permissions.”

The next words began the story and sealed the little king’s fate.

“A bride of your own. I would gather the fairest, brightest, noblest from my kingdom from which you might choose.”

Vague amusement soured into offense, and his smirk twisted into a sneer. He dared? Truly?

Dream peered down his nose at the man. What could this hungry dreamer know of love? “Tell me, then, what creature in your kingdom might be my equal when none are good enough even to be your consort?”

The king had no good answers, only selfish dreams and childish demands. Groveling, he asked, “Will you not help me, then?”

But it was too late, and Dream was invested in this fool’s demise. After all, finding the woman of his dreams would not make him happy. Morpheus was certain of that. And the king would fail to keep his end of the bargain. He was certain of that, too. It wasn’t the first time he’d become a character in a tale, and he wanted justice for the scratches on his withered heart, for all they were left unknowingly.

One who dared offer the impossible to an Endless should reap their worthy prizes.

“I will help you.”

The king opened his mouth to thank him, but Dream hadn’t finished.

“I will come at a time of my choosing, and you will assemble those promised. If I do not find one that pleases me, I will take recourse in any manner I please.”

He didn’t even leave the king the promise of fair or equal retribution. When he was disappointed, he would please to be merciless indeed. But the king was a fool and did not listen well. He accepted. Eagerly.

The king had his bride – a faerie who he wed, bed, and conceived an heir upon. But on the child’s seventh birthday, he and his mother both disappeared on a ride through the morning fog. Brokenhearted, he could not bring himself to marry again, and he spent more time pitying his fate than managing his lands. He wasted his youth, his love, and his legacy for a dream.

And now it was the king’s turn to make good on his promise.

The invitations were sent, summoning the young, the talented, and the beautiful to court. The castle staff prepared to host the horde of eligibles and the Endless the king hoped to please for seven days, at the end of which the King of Dreams would make his choice or exact his vengeance.