Ashikothedog - Ashiko

sorry for the late reblog. was busy in school stuff..

anyways..

Though it’s sad, I was kinda expecting this outcome in the dynamics between Mera and Dream. The only reason that the relationship would seem functional was for her to develop a combination of stockholm syndrome and an unhealthy trauma response.  

If only Dream learnt early on how to not be a creep, then Mera would probably be endeared to him.

The Dream That Got Away

Chapter 13

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

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

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

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Link to the Masterlist

Overall Warnings!! Take heed:

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

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

DUB-CON and NON-CON scenes

Character death (sort of)

Creator vs Creation drama

And other dark stuff that may be added in the future

This chapter’s warnings:

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

touch-starved Morpheus should be a warning of its own

PTSD and trauma angst, and selective amnesia (depicted creatively) resulting from trauma

reader still hearing voices

manipulation galore

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

Link to the previous chapter

Chapter 13: Under the Starry Night Sky

You whip your head around in alarm at the voice, a young woman’s, that had just entered the room and echoed inside the dungeon.

Impossible. Could she have –?

She stands in the corner of the dungeon twirling her wild, multi-coloured, shoulder-length hair, wearing a brown coat too large for her petite frame over her underwear and what seems to be a torn fishnet body suit. She has the appearance of a teenager, but there’s something about her that feels like she’s older than she looks – dangerous, powerful…  

Endless.

“I don’t like being ogled at. That’s a funny word, but ‘gawk’ is even funnier, I think,” she says, her voice almost having the quality of a thousand colours in the spectrum. “I do that a lot, these days – think? Even right now, I’m thinking of thinking, while also thinking about what you’re thinking.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ogle, or gawk, or stare,” you amend, flashing her a small smile in greeting. “Lady Delirium.”

She ignores your greeting and favours continuing her line of questioning.

“I can also hear the Voice thinking, but it already went quiet.”

Your smile is wiped off your face at once at her words. Before you, Lady Delirium keeps muttering to herself, confirming what you had dreaded when she walked in.

“I hear voices all the time, you know. There’s that one from the butcher shop, then two coming from a saleslady at a posh department store – I never liked their clothes, they always look so, uh, posh-y, I don’t know the word really. Then there’s this one lady who can actually see me, except no one believes her. But the voice inside her talks to me too. Yours won’t talk now. Do you know ‘what’s here’?”

“I don’t know, actually,” you say slowly, trying to choose your words carefully. “You mean, you can actually hear it?”

Swaying on her feet, she starts creating bubbles out of thin air, popping them with glee. “Oh yeah. It’s not very friendly to me. Not yet anyway, they all become my friends in the end. What about you? Are you a friend?”

Caught by surprise at the question, you stammer, “I – but of course, i-if my Lady wishes me so,” you manage with a shy smile.

“Great!” Lady Delirium exclaims, taking both your hands in hers. Her wide, mismatched eyes look into yours with delight, and you return her toothy grin, even if you find her stare somewhat unnerving – it’s a stare that feels like it sees you bare, looking through and living in your innermost thoughts.

“I’ve heard friends help each other find what they lost. You see, we lost a brother,” she says as she quite literally drags you out of the dungeon by the sleeve. You both reach the foot of a staircase, presumably ascending to one of the main halls, where she stops suddenly, looking at you with doe eyes and a pout. “I tried convincing my siblings to help me look for him, but they all turned me away like I was a n-n-uuu-isaaance.”

Right before you, she pauses her speech as her hair transitions from her rainbow-coloured hair, shortening to almost a dull, badly cut bob. She pops a lone bubble dolefully, before asking, “Do you think I’m a nnuuu-iiissaaance, Mera?”

“Of course not, my Lady,” you reply with a soft smile, recalling a certain Endless who had turned away and rejected your pleas. “I know the feeling.”

“So, you’ll help me find my brother? The one we lost, I mean, not the mean one, or Destiny, ‘cause he’s not going anywhere, he never leaves his garden, you know…”

“I’ll help in any way I can.”

“Yay!!”

With a thrilled squeal, Lady Delirium lets go of you and climbs the stairs, with you following behind.

Shit. Suddenly, you remember: she can hear the Voice and she may very well tell her brother.

“Uh, Lady Delirium?” you call out to her as she wobbles in her steps off the far end of the hallway.

“Yeah?”

“Remember how you said we can be friends?” you start, shooting her a hopeful look. “Can you keep the Voice you heard a secret? Please?”

She turns her head at you, her mouth forming a comical ‘o’ at your request. Finally, she says, “Sure, I keep many secrets, I’m rather good at them! The people who see me tend to reveal stuff, and even if they don’t really like telling them, they tell me anyway. Even Dream has a secret, but I can’t tell you…” With a flair, she places her forefinger to her lips.

“Thank you, Lady Delirium,” you say with a relieved sigh.

Taking your hand once more, she walks on, turning right to another hallway you’re not familiar with. She continues telling you stories that don’t connect and don’t make sense, but you listen anyway, knowing she could teach you a thing or two.

“I know where we can start looking for my brother. He created the Abyss, and Dream offered it a place to stay somewhere here, in his realm, but I don’t really know where. But I’m close, I think? I just rowed to the wrong island, I think.”

“Hang on,” you wonder, your curiosity spiking. “Isn’t that just a myth? The Abyss?”

“I suppose it could be for someone who hasn’t really seen it,” she just replies casually.

After three of four left turns and five rights, you later find yourselves in the same hallway as before when you came out of the dungeon’s staircase.

“My Lady, I think we’re lost…” you comment, looking around for another way out besides what you’ve already passed.

Her only reply is cryptic.

“Being lost is only temporary, but if it isn’t, then maybe you’re meant to be there and you’re not really lost, I dunno,” she says with a nonchalant shrug. She then pushes the door to her left open and enters, with you trailing behind.

You’re greeted by the sight of the tall, all-black figure of Dream of the Endless, standing in the middle of the room.

“My sister, my Dream,” he acknowledges you both, tilting his head in his sister’s direction. “What brings you both here? Little sister, you know better than to enter my realm without consulting me in my Gallery.”

“But you weren’t answering, and Desire told me to ‘go away,’” she counters, her hair growing rapidly and turning ash-blonde with red and green highlights. At her brother’s hard, chastising stare, she continues, her voice quivering as if trying not to cry, “And Death is busy, as always, and Destiny just kept telling me nonsense, I couldn’t make out any of his words, and Despair told me to ‘give up’ but you know I can’t, I just miss our brother terribly and what if something bad happened, or something…so there.”

The Dream Lord sighs in mild irritation before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We have been through this, little sister. Our brother does not want to be found. Now, I have my realm to attend to. Perhaps it’s best you return to yours.”

“I knew you’d say that,” she says with a dejected sigh. “At least Mera was kind enough to offer help.” She sticks her tongue out at her brother, before waving at you farewell and disappearing into a blinding, white crack in the space.

***

You had expected (or hoped?) to see Lady Delirium again, but you don’t see a single hair of hers after her visit. More than a month has since passed – but then again, you had stopped counting since the second week. You’re still imprisoned – in the castle and in your own mind. If you aren’t catatonically staring out to open the sea or the grey walls, or in bed, sleeping, you take to locking yourself up in the bathroom after your Dream Lord leaves for his duties. The Voice isn’t much help either. It has so far only spoken one thing since it’s been heard by Lady Delirium: the word ‘dungeon.’ Exactly what the fuck that meant, you had entirely no clue. Perhaps it isn’t really the Voice you heard, but you going out of your mind. After all, why would Lady Delirium choose to come to you, if you had not started going over the edge?

Having so much time alone by yourself, you had every opportunity to replay the events that had led to your imprisonment, but since that day you saw a vision of the blurry man in Ethan the Knight’s place, your memory has been coming in fragments, if not an entirely blank sheet. No matter how hard you try or how loud you scream, nothing would come, except distorted shapes and muddled emotions.

It has been hours since your Dream Lord left this morning. As you sit on the cold bathroom floor hugging your knees to your chest, crying desperately for any recall that wouldn’t come, it dawns on you that you had hit rock bottom and are in bad need of help.

You had called to him many times before. Will he listen to your pleas this time?

***

Dream of Endless expects that when he comes home to you and to the tower he’s keeping you in, he’ll find you on the bathroom floor sulking.

He had known for quite some time that you had switched from watching the sea melancholically to hiding in the bathroom whenever he’s gone away. He has watched you gradually spiral into depression at being left in the castle for long periods of time without anything to do besides wandering the decrepit fortress, and there are some days he wonders to himself whether he had gone too far in punishing you, if your recent brush with his sister Delirium is anything to go by. On those days in question, he would find his resolve weakening when he hears you plead so woefully beside him as he holds you close in the night, but of course, he never lets it show. In response, would only shush your crying in the softest ways he can – you had to learn, you had to live through your penance before he could shower you with all the luxury the whole of Dreaming can offer. He could not let you, his most beloved, walk away without so much as a slap on your wrist for defying his orders and daring to love anyone else other than him, to whom all your love, affection, and loyalty should belong. It had hurt him the way you continued spurning him, true, but your suffering brought him no joy. Also, although he had thoroughly taken boundless pleasure in every single night he had laid with you, it certainly does not sit well with him to have to force you to fulfil your duties to him, your King, as the King himself does to his realm. No matter: he is sure you will one day see the error of your ways.

And he had another reason for keeping you in the tower and away from everyone else: he knew from the very beginning that isolating you – when you’re still mourning the loss of that detestable mortal that dared keep you from him by way of that deplorable magic – would drive you to inconsolable spirits, and who better to save you from despair than him? He is aware he had started to chip off your rebelliousness, and you had started seeking him yourself to plead your case – he will take you back to his palace eventually, and if he does it at just the right time, he might be able to push you further into accepting your place beside him as his princess-consort.

Morpheus arrives on the balcony of the tower, tired from a long day and very much ready to spend the entire night hogging your warmth. He lets out an imperceptible sigh of relief – since he has placed you here, he has looked forward to coming home to you every night. He could just see how happy you would both be in each other’s arms under the pale moonlight of the Dreaming once he has reinstated your place in his own palace at the heart of his kingdom.

The instant he steps inside the room, he hears soft sobs coming from the bathroom. He reaches you in no time, sitting beside you on the floor and scooping you in his arms. It warms his heart the way you wrap your arms around him at once; he knows you’re starved for company, so he relishes the willing contact. He buries his face in your hair, greedily taking in your scent.

“My Lord, please,” he hears you beg against his shirt, your voice cracking from crying all day. “Please, take me back to the palace, I beg you. I’m trying not to lose my mind, but it’s just so damn hard when all I get to see is this stupid, decaying castle all the time.”

“It pains me to see you this distraught, dream of mine,” he replies softly as he caresses your exposed cheek with his forefinger. Has he pushed you close to your limit?

“Then, free me, my Lord…please,” you choke out.

Vaguely, he recalls the same words from a woman he thought he once loved: one he had sent to Hell for scorning him as you have done.

This time, could he find it in his heart to forgive?

But, this woman was nothing like you, the dream he had so lovingly and meticulously crafted to perfection.

Morpheus carefully chooses his next words. “My Mera, I do not mean to cause you so much anguish.”

Your voice comes as a faint whisper, but the subtle rebuke in it makes him pause momentarily.

“And yet you insist on keeping me here as punishment for something I can’t even remember…

“I know I did something bad, I tried to escape, but my memory – they come in fragments. And I try, but every time I think I’m close, everything becomes blurry again,” you say weakly as he feels your trembling hand crumple his shirt to try to stave off the fresh bout of tears.

“I just want to go back, please…”

Dream, lost for words, places a lingering kiss on your hair as he weaves his sand to send you to unconsciousness. If you were on the brink of mental collapse, he needs you in deep sleep to confirm his suspicions.

He had vowed to himself never to stoop so low as to dive into your mind, let alone even touch your thoughts, but he had to see for himself what your state of mind has become. Once inside, he immediately notices a barrier: behind it are memories of Oliver Chapman and all the time you spent with him – all of it he finds revolting and insulting, it actually leaves a bitter, lingering taste on his tongue. He watches every single memory with shaking fists, allowing his bitter jealousy to course through his veins. This is the first time he’s looking into your so-called love through your eyes, and he wants nothing at that moment but to squeeze the life out of the man that had stolen you right under his nose. He turns away when he gets to a kiss you shared at a bar – he might not help himself from spilling the mortal’s blood if he so much as witnessed another one, and a kiss you had willingly shared with him, at that. Seeing you readily run to the arms of that man felt like he had been stabbed in the heart – what he had sought from you, you had freely given to another: that fact alone is enough to make his Endless blood boil. He then remembers he has a nightmare he’s about to finish – it could be time he assigned that nightmare to torment only the human specifically?

Shaking himself from his train of thought, he remembers what he came here for – torturing the man can wait. He taps the glass-like barrier you had encased those abhorrent memories in.

Admittedly, he had thought of doing this himself just so you could forget your love for the cursed Chapman, but it seems like you had beaten him to it. You had apparently done this yourself subconsciously, likely in order to shield yourself from further trauma. Your own subconscious has declared that memories of your love for that mortal were a danger to your wellbeing, to which he agrees enthusiastically. He sneers slightly in mild amusement: he had powers that now could rival the Morningstar himself, so he could simply shatter the barrier without breaking a sweat. But, why would he?

He had, at last, gotten rid of his rival to your heart, and he didn’t even have to lift a finger.

Satisfied with this development, he ceases his connection to your mind and carries you to the bed, noting how you had turned so frail in your time here. He lays down on your side so he could cuddle you close and listen to your beating heart, which he knows one day will beat only for him.

Perhaps it’s time he takes you back to his castle. And if he plays his cards right, he would have you so grateful that he had finally come to your aid and you’d ultimately surrender to him fully, as he had always envisioned you would.

***

Morpheus wakes you up the next morning to deliver the news. He never tears his eyes away from the way your eyes slowly light up as the realization of freedom hits you, to the way you give him the warmest, most genuine smile he has ever seen from you since his capture. He tries not to be blinded by it, even as the smile is fully directed at him and no one else, like it always should.

“Allow me three days to ensure that you want for nothing in your return.”

Inwardly, he praises himself at the idea of making you wait a little more – he would build up your hope and excitement for your return, making you even more pliable to his wishes. He sees your smile falter a little at the mention of waiting, but what are three more days, when your King is at long last granting what you had so endearingly begged for?

He finds it difficult to keep his composure when you wrap your arms around him in a delicate hug – he just melts in it as he tightens the hug. He couldn’t help burying his face in the groove of your neck, inadvertently planting an innocent kiss. He allows himself a tiny smirk – everything is going according to his plan.

***

The ray of hope that filtered through the room in the form of your freedom was thin, but it was enough to brighten your room a little when your Dream Lord leaves for his duties. This was the only good news you’d ever heard since your imprisonment; you had not been able to stop yourself from impulsively hugging him at the height of your emotions.

It’s when he’s left, however, that the Voice makes known its opinion:

Don’t trust him.

This makes you wonder: is this promise of his another one of his cruel mind games? You know well enough of your master to tell that he can change his mind on a whim, and you realize he might just take it all back the moment he feels the slightest resistance from you.

But in all honesty, what else could you do, knowing he’s your only way out of this place? You release a heavy puff as you sit on the edge of the bed so you could compose yourself. If you could last the next three days being the demure subject and obeying your King’s bidding, he’d have no reason to go back on his word.

Either way you go, you’re screwed.

Thankfully for you, the next two days coasted by with nothing but your frazzled nerves to deal with. Your Dream King had been merciful enough to sense that you weren’t in the mood to sleep with him in any way, so he let you be, only holding you close to his chest as he waited for you to fall asleep. You had drowsily asked him a random question about how you hadn’t seen Jessamy; he had responded after a long pause about his beloved raven’s death at the hands of his captors. He had spoken with so much vulnerability, you actually caressed his face with your fingers to try and comfort him before drifting off. It was probably the only time he’d ever be vulnerable with you.

You watch the afternoon sun in the Dreaming slowly sink into the horizon, painting the sky and sea with a thousand shades of purples and oranges, signalling the kingdom’s passage to a starry night its King is partial to.

That means the monarch in question is about to arrive to spend his night with you in your prison cell.

***

Dream of the Endless appears on the balcony a little after the sun has fully set and the stars have begun glittering in the night sky. He finds you there, staring at the sea, and he watches you turn gracefully to acknowledge him, your silhouette standing out against the midnight blue sky. He feels his heart warm at the way you hold his gaze for a few moments – but then you turn away, breaking the spell. You’re still uneasy around him, it seems.

But, to him, it’s a simple fix: once he takes you back to his castle, he’ll never let you leave his side. You’ll have all the time in the universe to start warming up to him.

He approaches your side languidly, never speaking a word as he takes in the scenery, allowing only the hushed sounds of waves crashing against the rocky cliff to break the silence. This will probably be the last time in a long while that he’ll have you fully to himself – he knows other creatures of the Dreaming would take up your time, because who wouldn’t love their new princess-consort? – and so he just wants to savour this moment, and this night, with you.

Quietly, he looks up at the star-filled sky, fondly recalling a promise he had made to you in your sleep.

“A little more than a hundred years ago, I vowed that you’d fall asleep in my arms under the Dreaming stars.”

Morpheus turns to face you fully, and you do the same, perhaps out of habit, he muses, but you continue averting your eyes, looking at anything but him. This wouldn’t do, of course, so lifts your chin with a finger and, closing the distance between you, he kisses your soft lips, revelling in your taste. He feels your lips move against his, albeit shyly, but it doesn’t matter – it’s enough to fuel the fire stirring within him like only you could, and nothing else, no one else, could quell it for him. He cups your cheek and angles his head to deepen the kiss, allowing his tongue to repeatedly slide over yours as you bashfully try to keep up.

But a passionate lip lock isn’t enough – it’s never enough for him – he wants you, he’s always wanted only you, and he wastes no time wrapping his arms around your figure as his sand transports you both to a portion of the island he had prepared for this night. He places both his hands on your waist to steady you before you break your footing as you both land on the seashore. Reluctant as he was to break your kiss, he pulls away so he could carry you, bridal style, to the bed that he had fashioned out of his sand just mere seconds ago. Unlike the bed in the tower, it had no upper panels, allowing for an unobstructed view of the Dreaming’s dark, starry canvas. He lays you down on the silky covers like you’re a porcelain doll he’s afraid to break, before shedding these troublesome clothes he had with a wordless command. He gets on the bed, his thighs on both sides of your hips straddling you. He leans closer to you, his lips stopping just a hairbreadth away from yours, and he speaks:

“You will find that I intend to be true to my word.”

He then sits up, intent on admiring the way look, splayed out underneath him so exquisitely; with your chest visibly heaving up and down in anticipation of his touches, and your hair fanning out to reveal that beauty of a face he crafted. He needs to see more of you, so much more, and yet he gives himself the joy of untying your belt, the only thing that holds your dress in place, with the gentleness akin to unwrapping a fragile gift. Slowly, he peels the dress off, baring that perfect body he so lovingly crafted – it’s all for him to see, to taste, to take, and he plans on reacquainting himself with every inch of you as if he had not already done so almost every night for the past month.

With his hands, he traces every part of you slowly, remembering how he poured his heart out when he crafted you. He begins with your lips, still red from the kiss you shared, to your neck, which he laments is still empty of his marks – he must do something about that, but not a moment too soon. His fingers find their way to your breasts, lazily brushing over your nipples as they perk under his touch. But then, when you start trembling underneath him, he glances at your face: he finds your eyes squeezed shut, with tears gathering at the corners – you were trying to conceal your sobs from him.

Why do you cry so, when all he means is to give you endless ecstasy? Could it be that you still longed for someone else, when he had made it explicitly clear that you belonged to him? Could you be thinking of that mortal? His jaw clenches with ire at the thought, but he reels that feeling in – he is aware of how you’re subconsciously repressing the memories you have of that man, so he needs to think rationally and focus on you.

Besides, there is no one else who can pleasure you the way he does.

“No more of your tears, my little dream. Do not fret: I will make you feel good.”

It matters not to him the way you shake your head in denial – he bends down to kiss your tears away, before moving to capture your lips. He needs you to feel just much you’re sending him on edge with longing, and so he marks you: your jaw, your neck, your collarbones – he covers them in no time with angry welts as he alternates between sucking and biting your flesh. He could feel the blood rushing to his groin, but he sets aside seeking his relief for later, knowing you need it more than him. When his mouth finds one of your breasts and his teeth graze your nipple, you arch your back to him and moan. He bites down even harder, emboldened by your response, and moves to the other breast and lavishes it with just as much attention. The hand that isn’t squeezing your breast traces downwards from your stomach down to the mound between your legs, and he hears you gasp audibly before panting. Gently, he massages your folds, taking delight in the way he makes you wet and start squirming in his grasp. He’s thirsty, and only your nectar could fill him – he places one final lick on your breasts before caressing his way down to your folds. He parts your thighs, admiring the way your opening glistens with wetness. He makes sure he never breaks eye contact with you as he lowers down and starts delving right in.

The moment he starts lapping your juices, you let out a breathy moan and lift your hips to meet his mouth. Grabbing one of your inner thighs to still you, he parts your folds using his tongue and starts flicking your nub with it. The way you cry out makes his cock twitch in anticipation – he’s painfully hard now, but he knows he needs to hold out for you. He intensifies your pleasure by inserting his middle finger into your tight opening. You jerk at the intrusion, but he holds you still while he sucks your clit, sliding his finger in and out and enjoying the way you shake beneath him. Once he adds a second finger inside, he feels you tug his hair harshly. He lets out a pleasured groan and picks up the pace he set with his fingers. He knows you’re close, so he lets his fingers brush over your spot as the continues to suck in your sweet nectar. In no time, your thighs start trembling as you cry your climax out, and like a starved man, he laps up everything you offer him. He then leans back just in time to see you come undone, gasping for air as you finish. He withdraws his fingers from you, coated in your arousal. He gently opens your mouth and issues a command to lick it clean. It stirs him up further, the way you look at him with innocence as you suck them with puckered lips. When he’s satisfied with your work, he takes your hand and places it on his throbbing erection.

“Can you not see the effect you have on me, my Mera? No one else can make me feel the way you do,” he purrs, guiding your fumbling hand up and down his shaft.

But, like always, he wants his undoing to be after you had found yours multiple times, and he prefers being inside you as he does, so he releases your hand and lowers himself closer to your body so he could breathe you in. He clasps his length and uses it to part your folds before positioning himself over your slick opening.

Dream releases a sigh of relief as he slides inside your velvety walls – inside you is where finds his home – and how he wishes he could stay within you forever. He enters you gradually, but it’s pure torture for him to wait as your strangled cries die down, when all he could think of is taking you wildly, so he breathes heavily as he rolls his hips ever-so-slightly to seek some form of comfort. You’re so tight around him, he couldn’t help the groan of pleasure that escapes him as your walls clamp around his length. He begins with slow, deliberate thrusts, while he watches you fist the sheets beneath you. He takes your arms and wraps them around himself so you could hold on to him. As he sets a sensual pace, he drowns out your sobbing with his mouth and runs his tongue over your lips, tasting your salty tears. He knows your tears will eventually turn to cries of pleasure, so he needs to be patient. He continues this laborious pace of his to draw out your little whimpers while he licks and sucks on your jawline and massages your breasts. Eventually, he feels you instinctively meet his hips, so his thrusts become harder and faster, and you reward him by digging your nails into his back and moaning louder. He would never tire of hearing you make such sweet music as he hits your spot over and over.

He then hooks your leg around his waist to deepen his thrusts – he grunts with every roll of your hips together, and for a time, your bodies move in perfect sync. Within minutes, your screams of pleasure fill the shore, and he knows he’s about to bring you over the edge – so he grasps your hips and finally starts taking you in the rhythm and force he had craved since the beginning. He lets loose as his thrusts become more unforgiving, and with a harsh snap of his hips, you come undone beneath him, your body quivering all over as your walls clench desperately around his cock. Right before his eyes is a vision of you he burns into his memory: your hair damp with sweat, your eyelashes fluttering as your eyes close, mouth parted in desire as you scream obscenities into the night – you had never looked more ravishing in his eyes.

But he isn’t done with you yet, not by a stretch. He allows you to catch your breath, but only for a while – he then flips your positions over swiftly so you’re lying on top of him, careful not to pull out of you. He growls a command over your ears:

“Ride your King, dream of mine, and make yourself come.”

And like the obedient little dream you are, you sit up and start moving shyly on top of him, withdrawing from his cock and sinking back down. He watches intensely as you rock your hips, your breasts bouncing with every movement. He reaches up to cup one with his hand as his other digs into your waist so he could control your pace as he thrusts upward. You continue grinding into him until you come apart for the second time, throwing your head back so he could get a clear view of your neck and collarbones littered with his love bites. The sight is almost enough to bring him to the edge, he has to hold himself back, clenching his jaw and growling as your core tightens around his length – you, above him, screaming hoarsely in your passion, bathed from head to toe in the light of a billion stars: his ethereal goddess, his only lover, collapsing on top of him in full bliss.

Morpheus is done waiting, he decides. He slides from underneath you and helps you get on all fours, with your elbows propped for support. From behind you, he gets into position, lifting your hips further in the air, and sinks his throbbing cock inside you. His breath hitches at the way you readily take him in while you make a strangled noise at his intrusion. He senses that you’re close to being overstimulated by the way you try to wriggle away, but he grips your hips with bruising force to keep you in place.

He does not start right away – he just rolls his hips softly, even though it brought him endless torment, restraining himself like so. After a short while, he hears you whine and start pushing into him, but with a sadistic smirk, he holds your hips still.

“Please, my Lord…” he hears you beg beneath him.

Leaning over your ear, Dream whispers, “‘Please’ what, my dream? Use your words.”

“Get it over with, please, I can’t take it anymore,” comes your pained reply.

He just lets out a dark chuckle which makes you shiver. Oh, how he enjoys teasing you like so. “Those aren’t the right words.”

He hears you let out an indignant whimper, before letting out in an embarrassed whisper, “Please, just fuck me, my Lord, please…”

He need not be told twice.

“As my little dream wishes.”

With the force and speed only an Endless could muster, Morpheus ruts into you with wanton abandon, chasing after his own release. The way your core clamps around his cock as he pounds into you relentlessly makes him groan loudly into the night, while your hoarse moans and cries fill his ears, making for one sinful harmony. Not one to neglect you, he starts rubbing your clit, earning hoarse screams from you. He sets a pace you could no longer keep up with, so he tightens his grip on your hips as he pulls you towards him. He has only one thought as he focuses on the way his cock fully sinks into your body again and again: he will never take another lover in his lifetime, he will never want anyone else – he only burns for you, and he will continue to burn only for you even as the last star in the universe gives its last dying flicker.

He is close, and he can feel it; he starts losing his rhythm, his hips slamming into yours with strength that makes you buckle – as you climax beneath him, your walls clamp down on his cock with so much pressure, he loses control: with a roar that shakes the entire island and the ocean surrounding it, Dream’s orgasm hits him in shockwaves – time slows around him as he says your name over and over like a prayer to the goddess underneath him. He releases his seed and fills you up with it, while you clench and milk him for all he’s worth – he pumps inside you until he’s got nothing more to give, eventually stilling his movements, before you both collapse on the bed, with him rolling to the side, careful not to crush you.

Wasting no time, he pulls you close so you could listen to his heartbeat – will you pull away, like you always do? It always hurt him a little bit when do after you had shared such an intimate act, so when you stay limp in his arms, he holds you even closer, as he kisses you so softly, so deeply, letting his lips convey what he couldn’t with words. He then pulls away, sensing you were in no state to respond and strokes your cheeks while he watches your eyes flutter in exhaustion. You both listen to the gentle crashing of the waves on the shore under the starry night, the only witnesses to how he made love to you all night with an all-consuming passion.

Finally, he confesses into the night:

“I hold your heart so dearly, my Mera – would it be so much to ask of you to hold mine, too?”

But the only response he receives is your deep steady breathing, signalling you’d already fallen asleep. Nevertheless, his heart sings at his fulfilled promise. He has many more of them to carry out just for you, and you have nothing but an eternity ahead to open up to him.

***

The first thing that registers when you come to is the hollow pain in your lower abdomen. That had been a normal occurrence for you this past month since you had begun sharing your master's bed, especially from last night’s activities. You sit up, suddenly feeling a different set of sheets underneath you from the one you had slept in last night. You rub the sleep away from your eyes before looking around wildly, half-expecting you’d still be looking at the grey, stone-brick walls and grimy windows.

What greets you makes you jump out of bed and ignore the throbbing ache between your legs.

The room you woke up to is large and blindingly white, owing to the marble floors and walls and sunlight streaming from the windows spanning from the floor to the ceiling and the doors that open to an expansive balcony. You had slept and woken up to this a few times before and remember it clear as day.

You’re in your Dream Lord’s chambers.

You must have lost your mind at last, and you’re just hallucinating all of this, you think. This can’t be real, right? Could he really have brought you back, knowing how much you resisted him last night?

You wrap the silk sheets around your naked body and slowly saunter to the open balcony in disbelief.

But the scenery that unfolds before you do not vanish, as visions often do. With tears cascading down your cheeks, you stare with wonder at the beauty of the heart of the Dreaming like it’s your first time, finally convincing yourself that this is real thisisreal –

“My dream,” comes a deep, velvety voice from behind you.

Your creator, closing in on you, cups your tear-stained cheeks and gently plants a kiss on your forehead.

“You’re home.”

This confirmation is all it takes for you to burst into tears of unadulterated joy.

Do not trust him, is all the Voice says in your head.

***

“…I leave you in the expert hands of your headwaiter, Taramis. Thank you all for coming, and I’ll see you all at the party.”

With a final curtsy, you leave the parlour, mouthing thanks to Taramis, who gives you a little bow in response before his army of servers swarms the guests to take in their choice of refreshments.

It has been exactly six months since your Dream Lord has taken you back to his castle. He had since tasked Lucienne to train you officially for your new royal position, which you had of course passed with flying colours. Your master, ever with his fondness of theatrics and grand gestures, insisted that he host a party to celebrate your official ascent as his princess-consort. He had made it clear that day that there’d be no room for arguments, especially from you. So, today, the entire Dreaming is in a festive mood, with the entire palace staff, and in extension, you, running around like a headless chicken to greet and accommodate guests he had invited from different realms across the entire universe.

The day had not even started, and you already couldn’t wait for it to end.

He wouldn’t like it, of course, when he finds out you’d been helping, but it isn’t like there’s much of a choice: you had woken early, and when you saw that some of the guests had started arriving early, you had pleaded with Morwyn to help you dress and not tell a word about it to the Dream Lord, and ran down so you could help in welcoming them – goodness knows Lucienne is already swamped with work as she always is. And it wouldn’t hurt at all to leave a good first impression, right?

Great. You’re now simping for royalty you don’t even know.

After ensuring that the first batch of guests has been well taken care of, you had to let your master know that some of his guests have arrived, as it’s only polite for the Dream King to greet them himself, as the grand host.

You had received word from a frantic Lucienne that the King had an audience he attended to in his office in the library. You had found it odd that he’d be receiving company in an office he barely used, but then again, his oddities are by now, completely normal to you.

You reach the office in question, slightly surprised to find the door slightly ajar. Inside, you could hear your master in a seemingly tense conversation with someone sounding so vaguely familiar.

“…I let you retrieve it because I knew you were mourning, brother. But to go as far as to keep it to yourself and hide it from me? You can’t just keep doing as you please with it,” says the familiar voice, firm and chastising.

“And yet, I believe we had an understanding that you are not to touch it, most especially not in my presence, dear sister,” comes your Dream Lord’s much harsher, biting tone.

A heavy silence passes between the two, and not wanting to eavesdrop any further, albeit unintentionally, you knock on the door to make your presence known.

“Enter,” comes the terse command of your Dream Lord.

“I’m sorry to interrupt –” you start to say as you push the door wider, only to stop dead in your tracks.

Lady Death, with her kind, wide smile, brushes past her brother to approach you and hugs you warmly in greeting. You couldn’t hug back in your surprise, but she seems to think none of it. She pulls away, still with that comforting gaze of hers as she gives you an affectionate stroke on your cheek.

“I am so glad to have finally met you, Mera. My little brother has told me all about you.”

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

Author notes on the Chapter:

To the anon who sent an ask about Dream's POV, thank you for reminding me that I have been neglecting our dear Morphy's POV for quite some time now, so this smut in his POV is for you!! I hope I conveyed his thought processes properly!!

On a side note, two Endless??! What could possibly be going on?

Plot also keeps growing, I thought I had only up to 17 chapters for this fic, but now onto 19!! Who woulda thought lmao

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

Author's notes in general:

Thank you, THANK YOU for reading!!

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

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

Post date: 1/14/22

Edit date: 1/15/22

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

Tagging the following:

@wt-fxck

@sandman-33

@reallystressedhoneybee

@akiraquote

@safe-teycar

@ponyboys-sunsets

@izzicle

@spygrrl99

@intothesoul

@thecrazytealady

@tastyinspection8860

@kittenssss-blog

@trinittyy

@mxacegrey

@saraicus

@blu3what

@justporple

@emy635

@chantzmar

@dawnissunnysideup

@esmeralda-tupi

@ggxsan

Genuinely sorry if I fail to add blog names that have requested to be part of this list, I forget (not as much as Mera, but hey)

Hope/Dawn is so cute.. omg..

𓅨 As Dawn Breaks: Chapter Two

As Dawn Breaks: Mother Night and Father Time, after having sired seven Endless to personify life in the known universe, create Earth and human life begins. One last Endless is created: Dawn, the personification of illumination and hope, the beginning of a new day and a chance for happiness and improvement. A love will span thousands of millennia, breaking with every sunrise and renewing hope come sunset. Yet, even the personification of hope can lose the very notion of her existence from the sting of a broken heart.

Warnings: Confused Pining.

To Note: Dream/Morpheus x Endless!FemaleReader(Dawn), This Involves Themes That Are Not For Everyone. 

Word Count: ~2.5k

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Your bare feet flew across the flaggen stone of your courtyard as you rushed around, trying to find the papers you needed. It had been hectic in The Gardens as of late, there had been a boom in the population in The Waking World and hopes were pouring into your realm at a pace you and your handmaids could barely keep up with. But you were not looking for parchment for The Gardens, but for The Dreaming. The lines between dreams and hopes often overlapped which led you to work with Dream off and on over the last hundred years or so. You had been keeping things strictly business with him, not wanting any sort of relationship with the older Endless to impede your purpose… but Dream had offered to show you his realm after you both finished your business for the day. If only you could find that blasted parchment!  

Of all the times to lose important parchment work it had to now. 

Cursing under your breath, you scrambled around the bench you normally sat at, your hands moving leaves, vines, and flowers. Sometimes, your plants liked to be naughty. You couldn’t blame them, they were still quite young, just like you. 

“Where did you go!? I’m going to be late!” You exclaimed, your flower-woven hair flying about. You caught a fold of parchment buried within the vines of the bougainvillea wrapping around the north archway of the courtyard. Eyes narrowing, you walked up to the unassuming vine and placed your hands on your hips. “And what are you doing with that, beautiful one?” The bougainvillea shivered and ruffled its leaves like a scolded child, then it started pouting. Your stern face softened. “Oh come now, I’ll be coming back… it’s not like I’ll be moving away from The Gardens.” 

Ever so slowly, the vines started moving and the piece of parchment you had spent the better part of half an hour looking for, appeared. The bougainvillea offered it to you in a wilted demeanor. You took the parchment and brushed your fingers along a few leaves and flowers. 

“Don’t cry, little one, I’ll be back soon enough.” A vine curled around your finger, giving it a gentle squeeze. You smiled softly and gave the plant one last caress before pulling away. You were already late as it were. Parchment in hand, you strode out of your private courtyard, calling for your familiar. Your dove swooped through the hallways to land on your shoulder as you entered your gallery. In front of you, sheltered by seven alcoves, were the sigils of the other Endless. You walked up to the dark miniature helm that represented Dream and carefully cradled it within your palms. 

“Dream,” Your voice softly spoke, echoing through the sigil to be heard by Dream. “I stand in my gallery and hold your sigil, may I visit you and your realm?” You felt a ripple in response before Dream called back to you. 

I have already invited you to my realm, dear sister. You need not request permission so formally a second time, even if our rules demand so. 

Your lips twitched at his words, at him calling you his sister. That label had always felt strange and foreign to you. You had never felt that you were a sibling to the older Endless, you— you were something else. You had a purpose in your creation and it wasn’t to be their sibling. At least, that is what you understood about your existence. 

“Forgive me for being so rigid with decorum,” You sweetly replied. “It is my understanding that I must strictly adhere to the rules of my being, I shall arrive momentarily.” Placing Dream’s sigil back where it rested, you closed your eyes and held your hands in front of your chest, concentrating on transporting yourself to The Dreaming. It would be the first time you left The Garden since your first arrival. Flower petals and stardust swirled around you and your dove, and the serene calming aura of your realm disappeared to be replaced with one of wonder and fascination. 

You gasped at the cold stone beneath your feet and flickered your eyes open. Stretched out in front of you was a quaint village with stone cottages and smoking chimneys, the winding path you stood on continued through the village and past its boundaries to a bridge held up by hands. Beyond was a glimmering castle. This was The Dreaming. 

From behind you came the sound of shifting stone and twisting in place, you looked upwards to see a great dragon perched on Ivory gates that loomed upwards formidably. Stern eyes passed over your form shortly before the giant marble dragon swopped into the air and started flying towards the palace. Returning your attention to your surroundings, you followed the path and were instantly fascinated by the people and your surroundings. You saw clothing designs you had never seen, food you had never tasted, and creations you could never dream of. Finding yourself lingering on the fringes of the town, attention drawn to more unique statues and architecture, you just barely heard the call of a raven. Then one dove through the air and fluttered to its feet on a stack of crates nearby. You smiled. 

“Hello, Lucienne,” You softly greeted politely, your eyes flickering upwards to the palace that lay beyond the winding bridge. “I suppose I got distracted,” you moved your hands to grip your skirts sheepishly. “Please forgive me, this is my first time visiting and The Dreaming is so intriguing.” Lucienne hummed at you before tilting her head. 

“Lord Morpheus understands your curiosity and sent me to see that you are guided to wherever you so choose should you design,” Lucienne explained, shuffling her wings. Your eyebrow arched and you glanced at the palace. 

“Well, that won’t do,” You murmured, your mind remembering that you had come for a reason. You had business with Dream. “Apologies I have gotten entirely sidetracked by the realm, I have official business with Dream… do you mind escorting me to him?” Lucienne bobbed her head and took to the skies once more. Traveling across the winding bridge connecting the village to the palace, you took the opportunity to admire the beauty and structural architecture of Dream’s home. Upon entering the palace, you were led through some halls and ended up in the throne room. Dream sat upon the stairs to his throne, book hand and a studious look upon his face. You approached and paused a meter or two from the base of the stairs. Your dove cooed on your shoulder, and Dream raised his starlit eyes to yours. 

“Greetings, sister,” His deep and therapeutic voice echoed through the large room and slipped across your skin like silk. You bowed your head slightly in return. 

“My deepest apologies, Dream, for being late, it seemed that my realm was reluctant to see that I leave.” A dark elbow quirked and the corner of Dream’s mouth twitched. 

“Reluctant?” He repeated with a touch of amusement in his voice. Heat surged up your neck and into your cheeks, warming them, as you tried to beat back the embarrassment rapidly filling your body. Your dove cooed in agreement and you materialized the scrolls you needed. 

“The bougainvillea was reluctant to see me leave and thought to hide the parchments from me in a pout.” You explained with hot cheeks, your fingers rotating the parchment scroll in clear embarrassment. “I spent the better part of half an hour looking for the parchments only to discover that they had been hidden from me, intentionally.” How had a plant momentarily gotten the best of an Endless? Dream chuckled at your words, knowing how vibrant and full of life The Gardens were. It was no surprise that the realm itself did not wish for its Lady to leave. 

“It is of no concern that your realm kept you momentarily at bay, Dawn, you are all it knows,” Morpheus spoke to you gently, observing your small frame. You had always been a picture of gentle, carefree beauty. Flowing dresses, vines, and flowers woven into your hair tumbling down your back. You were the picture of nature, your timeless beauty shifting and changing with the eras. You had already shifted forms a few times, but your beauty had always remained constant. Yet at the same time, your carefree appearance was misleading. You were, perhaps, the most hardworking of the Endless. From the moment of your creation to this moment now, your sole focus and concern was on your duty and realm. Compared to Delirium, Despair, and Desire, you were far more mature. Unusually so. Mother Night and Father Time made you meticulous, hardworking, and serious. 

“Dream?” Your sweet and melodic voice drew Dream from his inner thoughts, and he shifted his eyes back to your inquisitive ones. “I can come back to do the co-filing if now is a bad time…” Dream shook his head and rose to his feet, stepping down the stairs to approach you. 

“I was merely in thought, come, the library is this way,” Dream said, looking down at you. Your eyes brightened at the mention of the library and Dream smiled at your childlike excitement, a great change from your usual serious facial expression. “I also believe I promised to show you my realm?” With a smile that could rival the brightness of a sun and unadulterated curiosity glowing in your eyes, Dream led you to his library. With your help, Dream was able to complete several dreams and get a head start on the construction of dozens more. It was a large ease in Dream’s workload and the older Endless was becoming more and more entranced with your presence. With the work completed, Dream moved onto activities that would surely bring further wonder to your eyes.

He started by showing you his palace which you had been enamored with its design and landscaping. Of course, you had fallen in love with the gardens that Mervyn maintained. If there was one thing Dream had learned about you, you absolutely adored plant life… your realm wasn't called The Gardens just because you liked plants. Then Dream showed you more of the village, letting you dart around and stare in amazement at the common places of the town. This was the most emotion he had ever seen from you, and Dream quickly found that he liked seeing you so happy. An unusual feeling for him. You were wandering towards the rocky path that lead to Fiddler’s Green when Dream stopped your midstep, arms wrapping around your fluttering body and ceasing your movement. You wobbled in surprise, your arms flailing slightly. Then your feet left the slightly cold ground and you found your body effortlessly lifted into the arms of Dream. 

“Dream?” You asked in confusion, your head tilting in confusion. His eyes met yours. 

“You might find that the pathway is… sharp, underfoot Dawn.” Dream pointed out, his silver-blue eyes glancing at your bare and unprotected feet. You still looked confused at why it was a problem but didn’t argue further. 

“If you are feeling so inclined,” You answered softly, your eyes dropping to his coat and catching sight of the stars hidden within. You reached out and traced your finger along the inner lining. He held a galaxy of stars within the inner lining of his coat? It was incredibly beautiful. Dream carried you along the rocky path until it ended and Fiddler’s Green began. As you returned to your feet and relished the feeling of soft grass beneath your toes, your head swiveled around in curiosity. Fiddler’s Green was a grand arcana that stretched over a large portion of The Dreaming. It was going to take you a long time before you fully explored the space to your heart's content. With your fingers lingering on Dream’s jacket, you looked up into his face. “Do you have a favorite place?”

Dream blinked, not expecting your question. He had to think about your question. 

“I’m afraid that I do not believe I have a favorite place with Fiddler’s Green. I spend so much time attending to my duties, I fear that I do not enjoy my realm as much as I should.” He answered you. Then he recalled a place within The Dreaming that dreamers who loved nature enjoyed walking through. Dream took one of your hands and began leading you in the direction of the field of flowers. You were happy to be led, giving you a chance to be absentminded about where your eyes wandered. The light breeze against your skin felt nice and the ground underfoot was almost softer than that of your garden. When Dream led you to a field that had an explosion of flowers of all types, you stopped short in vivid wonder. Dream watched as a multitude of emotions flickered across your face in rapid succession. It was like you were seeing the beauty of plants and flowers for the first time, and yet, did you not live in a garden of Eden?

The sight of you standing within Fiddler’s Green with such a look of wonder and enjoyment tugged at something within Dream. Perhaps his heart? No, he didn’t have a heart to be tugged… but he did know that he was drawn to your light and happiness. You looked back at Dream, your eyes sparkling but clouded with question. 

“Dream, may I ask you something?” You questioned him. Dream bowed his head to you, eager to answer any questions you had and learn everything there was to know about you. It wasn’t often that something held his fascination and attention, but you were all he could think of as of late. You picked a flower from the field and wound it through your fingers, a far-off look within your eyes. “Do you ever get lonely?” That question struck Morpheus like a blade through a heart. Painful and unexpected. He looked at your face, worry swelling within him. Were you feeling lonely so early on in your existence? Had he and his siblings failed you? You met his gaze. “Given your task of overseeing the dreams and nightmares, surely you are burdened with the emotions of the endless dreamers… I can’t even imagine what you might feel. Surely dreams are endless, how do you do it?” 

Dream stared at you in wonder. You clearly understood the gravity of your purpose and experienced it all the same… but were concerned for him, rather than yourself? Most of the Endless held egocentric, self-centered views, only thing thinking about their own domain and wishes. But not you. He was inexplicably drawn to that and felt an immense need to placate your worries. 

“That is true, I do feel immensely through the dreams and nightmares of mortals,” He admitted to you, staring into your eyes and loving the way your eyes constantly flickered with inextinguishable candlelight. Hope. “But it is their hope that is the base of their dreams and that sustains me, for what are dreams without hope?”

Your eyelids fluttered for a moment shortly before a smile blossomed on your lips of the likes Dream had never seen before. It was radiatingly gorgeous and lit up your face as he had never seen before, and it was directed at him. Dream was startled, taken aback by how beautiful your happiness was shown. But just as quickly as it had appeared, your smile was redirected as your eye caught something. You darted off with an excited giggle leaving behind a bewildered Dream in a state of confused pining. Why would Mother Night and Father Time make a sibling that he felt so drawn to, so connected with? Why did they make a sibling that Dream was falling for?

Date Published: 1/20/23

Last Edit: 1/20/23

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Please, don't make her fall inlove with Aemond.. I mean, the guy did sexually assaulted her, killed her brother then kidnapped her..

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Since 'labour - Paris Paloma' was finally released, all I can do when I listen to it is think of the reader. I think I have spent the entire day with that song on repeat.

Chapter 35: Solitudes Visitors

You found yourself restless after your interaction with Alicent Hightower. Images of the lifeless body of your aunt's son, played in a loop in your mind. A sick imagination toying with your sanity in the space. Men could go mad from isolation, their minds making up scenarios.

And all you could do in the space was think.

And that is all you wished to not do. 

On your seventh sleep, you dreamt.

You dreamt of falling. Of Lucerys’ death. Of the brown haired boy's lifeless body, mangled before you. You dreamt of Jaehaerys being slain, Helaena's frantic screams echoing in your mind.

Every time you watched the murder of the child, it was your hands doing it.

It was you that she begged for mercy.

It was you who was covered in blood. 

You woke up in a sweat. Heart racing, as you slowly recognised your surroundings.

The Maester had not come to your cell that day.

You shivered at the sudden chill of the room, the perspiration on your skin making your blood cool. Tucking your legs up under your chin, you breathed deeply.

In for three, out for three.

Repeating until you felt yourself calm slightly. Though you tried in vain, you could not fall back to sleep.

So instead, you paced the cell once more.

Counting aloud to fill the silence, anything better than Lucerys and Helaena’s screams that echoed in your mind. You had completed your seventh lap of the cell before you heard hurried footsteps.

You turned to face the bars of the cell, looking out into the dark corridor. The footsteps came closer, as you heard small breaths being puffed out into the air. 

The movement of the guard alerted the presence of the person coming to your cell. You watched as the guard moved towards the hooded figure, hand warily on the hilt of his sword.

As the figure got closer, the torch light illuminated their face.

“My Queen,” The guard bowed, “You shouldn’t be down here.”

She walked shakily towards you, steps uneven and frantic. 

“Let me see her.” Helaena demanded, voice raw and uncertain.

“I am sorry, My Queen, I have-“

“I order you to let me see her.” She interrupted the guard, voice stronger, though still laced with self-doubt. 

The guard shifted on his feet, looking back at you as you pressed yourself up against the bar cells watching her. The man gave an uneasy bow before muttering, “Yes, My Queen.”

He turned on his heel and came before your cell, pulling the key from beside his thigh. 

The large skeleton key scraped against the keyhole of the cell before a loud click was heard as he turned it, unlocking the metal that kept you imprisoned.

Helaena stood beside the guard as he pushed the door open to her. 

The silver haired woman looked nervous, before she turned to look at the guard, back hunched.

“Leave us.” 

“Your Highness,-” The guard began to argue.

“Leave, lest you be hung for your disobedience.” She hissed, frantic energy rising in her.

“Yes, My Queen.” The guard uttered, eyeing you carefully before turning on his foot to leave the dungeon, footsteps disappearing up the stairs. 

You stared at each other in uneasy silence.

Helaena looked broken.

The hood over her head covered the knotted silver hair beneath, neither brushed nor braided as it spilled wildly over her shoulders and chest. Her eyes were sunken and hollow, the light they once held, seemingly snuffed out.

She looked as though she was wasting away.

Had she come to free you?

The both of you stood quietly before she swiftly came forward into the cell, snatching your un-bandaged hand. You squeezed hers as you felt tears begin to spring to your eyes.

Your sweet aunt. What horrors had she witnessed?

“There is a beast beneath the boards.” She frantically spoke at you, pulling you close, eyes crazed as she shook.

“Helaena, are you alright?” 

“There is a beast beneath the boards.” She hissed impatiently, eyes darting around the space, as she looked around in search of danger. 

“Helaena, I am so sorry.” You began to cry, watching your aunt fall to pieces before you.

“What was lost is replaced, a spider's web is spun.” Queen Helaena yanked you towards her, holding your hand in both of her hands as she desperately searched your face.

A broken sob fell from her lips. Her eyes widening.

“His head. They took his head. They took his head. They took his head. They took it from his body. They took it from me. He has no head. How will my boy see? How will he sing to me?” She rambled.

Your hands shot up and held onto her face as she cried, watching you desperately try to console her, try to calm her, give her any sort of comfort. She gripped your wrists.

“A dragons death for a dragon breath. I told you. I warned you. I warned you that this would happen. I tried. I tried. I-“ You pulled her roughly against you, holding her in a tight hug. Her hands were pressed awkwardly between the two of you as you held her tight.

The young woman continued to ramble as you held her. Breathing in her scent. She smelt as she always did, of fresh flowers from the garden, sweet and soft in your nose, though sandalwood lingered the more you concentrated.

You stiffened and pulled back holding her still as she began to wriggle and twist away from you, swaying back and forth on her feet. 

“Hand turns loom; spool of green, spool of black. Spool of green. Spool of green. Spool of green.” She repeated.

You felt helpless, utterly at a loss as to what to do, how to comfort your aunt, the broken woman before you as she uttered the same things over and over.

“Helaena, breathe.” You tried to hold her so that she would stop pacing around the cell. 

“No!” She yelled at you as you touched her, her body flinching away. “Please do not make me choose, please mercy. Mercy, I beg you.”

“Helaena it’s just me.” You began to panic.

The woman laughed brokenly, which turned to loud sobs. Tears fell from your eyes as you tried to catch the Queen in your hands.

“Please do not make me choose. He is just a boy. Just a boy. So small. Such a small body. It was wrong. It was so wrong. But I had to. I had to." Her fingers jabbed sharply at her chest, "It was so wrong to hold him when I could not look at his face. I wish I could hold his face once more. But it is gone. He is faceless. No more. No more."

Helaena was broken.

She rambled so quickly it made your head spin. You did not know what to do. How could you stop her? How could you calm a woman gone mad?

Your aunt.

"No more small little face to smile at me. How could I choose? What could I do? Where is his face? Where has it gone? It is gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.”

You grabbed her shoulders standing in front of her, lowering yourself so that you could reach her eyesight. She looked at you dazed, suddenly realising where she was.

She looked around the cell, “Y/n?”

“Yes, yes Helaena it's me.” You gave her a small sad smile, “I’m here. I’m here with you.”

The Queen blinked slowly at you, brows furrowing.

“He is gone, y/n. My Jaehaerys.” A tear slid down her cheek as she stared at you, face broken.

“I am so sorry, I am so, so sorry.” You sobbed, holding her.

Helaenas eyes glazed over as she looked at you, face suddenly empty, mouth parted.

“Gone.” She muttered. “Lucerys.”

You sniffed, heart aching, “Yes, gone with Lucerys.”

“Gone.” She repeated, voice empty. 

Noise snatched your attention from above, the sound of guards rapidly making their way down the steps to the dungeon and cell, where you were with Helaena.

She heard the commotion and suddenly looked back at you in fear.

“Dragon's of flesh, weaving dragon's of thread.” She grabbed your arms sharply, fingers digging painfully into your skin. 

The guards were closer now, far down the corridor behind Helaena.

“Get away from her!” One yelled at you, as you held onto your aunt in desperation. You looked into her eyes as the guards ran towards you. Their armour loudly moving throughout the dungeon. 

“If the dragons dance, none will survive.” She whispered desperately at you.

The guards burst into the cell, roughly flinging you back away from Helaena. Large calloused hands pulled you back towards the wall of the cell. She stared at you in shock as you tried to break free from the men who pulled you further into the cell away from her, as two held her gently pulling her away with soft words of encouragement. 

“Helaena!” You called to her, as she watched you.

You cried out as one of the guard's roughly grabbed your injured side, fingers digging into the tender flesh. Pain ripped through your body as he used the grip to pull you further into the cell, as you watched Queen Helaena standing outside. 

“You’re hurting her.” She whispered, the young woman blinked before her face crumpled rapidly.

“Spool of black, spool of black, a dragons breath. A dragons breath. To black, to black, to black.” She rambled as they walked her away.

“Helaena!” You called out again, desperately fighting through the pain to try and wiggle away from the guards and go to your aunt.

“Stop resisting.” One of the guards grunted, before he twisted his fingers into your side painfully. Tears fell from your eyes as you wailed in pain, shifting in their grip, trying to get his hand off of your wound.

The guard huffed a satisfied laugh.

New steps descended into the dungeon, their footfalls even and not at all rushed. Your heart raced as you listened to the steps, watching the guards all wait for whomever they had alerted to Helaena's presence in your cell.

A long leg stepped out from the staircase and another followed. The lazy steps moving the silver haired man into the space. Aegon walked slowly towards his wife, head tilting to the side. 

“Wife, you should not be out of our chambers in your condition.” He cooed, hand coming to brush the hair away from her face.

“Spool of green. Spool of green. Beware the beast beneath the boards. Beware. Beware. Gone. Gone. Gone.” She rambled, completely lost to grief and madness as he looked at her sadly. 

“Please take the Queen back to our chambers, and ensure that some milk of the poppy is brought to help calm her.” King Aegon commanded, watching as Helaena was gently moved up toward the steps, as she continued to look back at you muttering, eyes filled with grief. 

Aegon watched Helaena be led up the stairs before his attention turned fully to you. His purple eyes roamed over your body as he watched you struggle in his guards grip.

His lips turned downward in a smug smirk.

You felt your heart beat rapidly inside of your chest. You had not seen Aegon since before Lucerys.

Since before he was crowned King.

Aegon sauntered to the cell as you stiffened, watching him smile at you viciously. The Usurper King swayed on his feet, only a white dress shirt and dark breeches donned his form.

He must have been in his cup, drinking. 

“Thank the Seven that this guard informed me of Helaena’s visit to your cell.” He drawled, “Who knew what you would have done to her once alone.”

You sneered at him, “Fuck you. Usurper cunt.”

You swirled your tongue in your mouth, and spat onto the floor in front of his feet. The guards yanked you roughly backwards. Aegon looked to the floor where your spit lay, almost having reached him.

Your eldest uncle laughed an amused laugh, the guards holding you still as he watched you, eyes raking over your disheveled and dirty form. 

“You look filthy.” He smirked. “Worse than the whores down in Flea Bottom. The Silk Lanes have looked cleaner than you do.” 

You yanked against the guard's grip, trying to move towards your uncle as he got closer to you, finally standing before you.

“I’ll kill you.” You hissed at him.

The usurper laughed again, before looking at the guards beside you, nodding his head. A man holding onto you suddenly let go, before a blooming pain seeped into your side.

The guard had veered a fist back, striking you in your wound with it. You slumped forward, ears ringing before the other guards let go of you, letting you fall to the floor roughly.

Your ears rang and your vision went black. You could not feel anything, but the hot white pain in your side. Nausea rose within you.

You desperately tried to suck in air, but your body would not allow it. You heaved against the stone, your stomach emptying, only bile falling out of the side of your mouth, pooling onto the stone below you. The acidic taste coating your tongue.

Your body curled in on yourself as you tried to breathe.

Eyes were shut tightly as a groan fell from your lips. Never had you felt pain like this before. You thought your heart would stop. Your hands clutched against your sides as you curled further in on yourself.

Moments passed as you tried desperately to breathe and to not heave as the pain and nausea rolled through you in waves. Behind your eyes throbbed as you struggled with yourself.

The ringing slowly began to fade, as you heard the guards shuffle out of the cell, one by one until you were alone. 

With Aegon.

The soft crunch of dirt beside you alerted you to his presence.

You slowly opened your eyes, sucking in a painful breath of air, willing yourself to not pass out, as your vision swam. Large black dots formed in your sight as you looked at the man kneeling in front of you.

Aegon was crouched beside you, looking down in mock pity, lips pulled into a false pout which curled at the edges where he fought to not smile at you. You breathed in another shaky breath as you watched him, head spinning.

“You always did have such fire inside of you.” He cooed, as he looked over your tense form, still curled in a ball on your side as you gasped in agony.

“It was always to be your downfall, of course. You just never know when to give in.” The King tutted.

You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, though your lids had become heavy as your breaths evened out, and pain throbbed inside of you. 

“Bend the knee. Acknowledge me as King and I will let you live. You may even see Helaena.” He added at the end in a higher note, as though it was a gift for a child.

A small bribe to make them do as you wished. 

You stared at him in disgust and breathed out.

You would not concede. 

“A shame.” His hand came to touch the hair that had fallen on your face.

You flinched away, pain spiking in your side again.

“Such a waste. I could have even taken you as my second wife.”

He smiled down at you in thought. Eyes lighting up in excitement as his imagination began to run wild.

“Now wouldn’t that be fun? To see you swell with my babe, and have your family know that it was me who put it inside you.” He crooned.

A tear fell from your eye, rolling down your cheek as you felt horror blanket you. He watched your expression with glee.

“Though, who is to say we should wait? When I could put a bastard inside you now.” Aegon purred, looking at the thin rag of a chemise against your shivering form. 

“A bastard for a bastard.” He purred.

Ice cold dread spilt over you.

Please Gods. Not him.

You wriggled away from him, breathing sharply through your nose at the throbbing pain in your side, as you attempted to pull yourself up and away.

King Aegon stood to his full height, towering over you as he looked down in delight. 

Is this how they all saw him?

His large hands came to the front of his breeches as he began to slowly untie them, smirking as he watched you scramble backwards towards the far wall of the cell away from him.

Your uncle slowly sauntered toward you, the laces at the front beginning to sag. His smile grew wider as he watched you, enjoying your fear.

“Stop.” You begged quietly, new tears falling from your eyes, “Please.”

His head tilted, “Please? Well since you asked me so nicely.”

Suddenly he lunged for you as you screamed, arms coming out to push him away from you.

“I can be gentle.” He teased you, laughing in your face as he pulled you against the rough stones towards him.

Your back scraped against the floor, skin becoming raw underneath as the chemise pulled up, and bunched away from you, above your hips.

You frantically kicked your legs out at him as he laughed above you. Aegon grabbed your legs painfully before parting them, eyes darting down to your bare centre. His grip on your thighs made you cry out as you screamed at him to stop, and to let you go, begging him softly as you cried.

"Aegon please. Stop."

Your uncle's grip faltered on one of your legs, and your foot shot out, clipping him on the side of his face. He stalled, head still turned away, as you moved to race towards the open door of your cell.

You scrambled on your hands and knees, trying to dizzily catch purchase on the floor and haul yourself up to run.

A hand gripped the back of your hair and swung you painfully down onto the ground, as you landed heavily on your back, air leaving your lungs in a silent cry.

Aegon jumped on top of you, the side of his cheek a soft pink from where your foot had struck him. His face no longer bore the sinister joy from before, but was now hardened with anger and irritation, as your hands came up to try and scratch him. 

Anything to get him off of you.

You watched as his hand came down sharply against your side.

You fell still.

You could not breathe, as that same agonising pain rippled up your side, causing your to cry. You saw nothing but white, as the pain bloomed up into your chest, and you felt his weight begin to settle on top of you.

The Targaryen fumbled with the last of his breeches, as you stared at the wall of the cell. 

The stone had a layer of green slime on it, the damp causing some sort of moss, or mould to grow along its surface. You had never noticed that before.

How beautiful it must be to grow and thrive in such a dark place.

A large hand pulled at your chemise roughly as you laid flat, trying to catch your breath. You moved weakly beneath him, attempting to push him off of you, as your head swum from the pain radiating in your side.

'Fight back' the little voice in your head screamed.

Your hand came up to smack Aegon’s face, though your blow did not have much impact, only seeming to amuse the man further. His eyes were half lidded, his pupils blown out so that you could barely see the soft lavender of his eyes.

Fight back.

A tear fell down your face. Then another.

The pain was paralysing.

All you could do was watch as his free hand slapped your arm away, before moving down to pull himself from his loosened breeches, which hung lowly on his hips.

It was thick and engorged, its tip a deep blush, weeping arousal onto his hand as he stroked it roughly, smiling down at you. You felt nausea roll through you in new waves as you tried to move away from him, but every time you moved, agony pulled your body closer to the abyss as your vision tunnelled. 

“I was going to be gentle, but now I think it will be more fun to break you.” He moaned as he brought his cock between your legs which were wedged open by his hips. 

“Please don’t.” You sobbed weakly, trying again to push him off of you with your hands. 

“It's too late to beg now.” Your uncle cooed in your ear, as the tip of his cock touched your inner thigh.

Your ears rang.

And you felt a part of you die.

This was it.

This was how you would lose your maidenhead. To your usurper uncle in a cell, alone and in agony.

How you wished you had died when you fell, after all. 

The thick head of his cock rubbed roughly against your dry slit as the man above you hummed, trying to find your entrance. The sensation made you gag as you tried to wriggle away from him.

You couldn't breathe.

His tip pushed roughly on your entrance as he tried to force his way inside you. You cried loudly underneath him, as you drowned in fear, his weight pushing you down into the stones below you painfully. 

“Ah.” Aegon sighed as the tip of his cock caught against your entrance. You stiffened in his hold as he looked down in you lustfully. A sinister smile gracing his lips. 

Then as suddenly as his weight was on you, it was gone.

You blinked up at the ceiling in shock, unable to move. You felt tears fall down your cheeks as you sobbed on the floor, as sounds came from beside you.

You steeled yourself, scrambling backwards, digging your fingers into the stone floor messily, trying to get to the damp green wall of the cell. Your head shifted and the room spun. You blinked at the scene before you. Unsure of what you were witnessing.

A long silver haired figure, swung wildly at the other below.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh made you flinch, as Aemond’s fists came down onto Aegon’s face brutally. You found yourself grow silent as you watched, hiccupping.

Aegon groaned in pain below the younger brother, as he punched back upwards at his attacker. 

The One-Eyed Prince's hand snatched the throat of the King, lifting the older brother's head up, before slamming it back down onto the stone below. The younger uncle breathed heavily, looking down at Aegon whose own hands were gripping Aemond’s wrists tightly in anticipation of the next blow. 

The King laughed below his brother, nose bleeding and lip split as he gazed up, teeth stained with blood. Aegon’s head reared up, spitting in Aemond’s face, a spray of bloody saliva coating the Kinslayer’s cheek. 

Aemond growled, pulling Aegon up to stand before roughly shoving him towards the exit of the cell.

The Usurper King paused and stared at you in amusement, eyes roaming your form as you flattened yourself further against the wall behind you, pulling your tattered chemise against you tightly.

The eldest son of Viserys hand came to brush his hair back, knuckles raw as he spat once more unto the floor before turning away from you, slinking down the corridor calmly as he began to ascend the steps. 

You heaved a gag as you turned beside you, your stomach pulling up nothing, mouth dry and side aching with every movement. A broken sob fell from your lips, as you shook against the cold stone, eyes unseeing staring into the darkness. 

Someone shifted around you and you flinched, looking up into the cell.

Aemond stood looking down at you, hair neat despite his assault. You looked at his face as his gaze softened for a moment, concern in his lone eye, as he took an unsteady step towards you.

You flinched and scrambled back again, moving sideways along the wall into the corner away from him, the bucket behind you falling as you moved.

Whatever softness was in his gaze fell away, as the mask was put back in place. 

Aemond hummed.

With a sharp turn on his heel, Aemond swiftly left your cell, leaving you alone as he stalked up the corridor, and loudly up the stairs back into the Red Keep. You stared at his back as he disappeared.

You sucked in a shaky breath as you watched the stairs where he had exited, anticipating his return. Or Aegon's.

Or both.

Pain strummed in your side as you blinked.

What had just happened?

You felt a new wave of tears begin to well in your eyes, when suddenly you stiffened.

Your eyes darted to the side of your cell. 

The cell door was wide open. 

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