#The idea of Dream contacting Nightmare to become bad like

[somegrumpynerd]

gru also has a twin brother that has opposite personality to him.

Dreamtale more like DecpicableMetale

[withoutyouimsaskia]

Fever Dream (Sandman One-Shot)

GIF: Originally posted by @saraicus​​​​

Pairing: Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x gender neutral reader

Summary: One-shot. Reader self-insert. Established relationship. Fluff. You develop a flu-like illness resulting in fever dreams. Morpheus helps you with the nightmares and cares for you.

Warnings: sickness, nightmares

Word Count: 2.2k

Sandman Masterlist

--------------------------------------------

Pressing your fingertip to the red circle of pixels on your phone screen to hang up the call took effort.

That was when you knew that you were in for a brutal few days.

Your boss had asked very few questions on said call, summating pretty easily from your voice that you were not in any fit state to be working.

Your first sign of what was to come had been the sore throat that had emerged the day before yesterday. A scritchy sensation that had intensified with every swallow before progressing into a tickly cough in the next 24 hours.

Bedtime last night saw you at the proverbial fork in the sickness road. One path led to a moderate illness and the other to a severe one. The only way to know which you were about to be dealt was to wait until morning.

According to your memory, there had been no recent contact with anyone acutely sick, and with this in mind, you had not mentioned your symptoms to Morpheus when you had gone to meet him in the Dreaming. There seemed little reason; you had been fairly certain that it wasn’t going to be bad.

Understatement didn't even cover it.

You had woken ten minutes ago with aches so deep inside your bones that it felt like your marrow was being scraped by razor claws. Every movement was now painful, including low impact ones like utilising your phone.

You plop the object on your bedside table before slumping back against your pillow.

All you desire is sleep yet you know you must attend to some basic needs first. You go through the list in your head:

1. Toilet

2. Sustenance

3. Hydration

4. Painkillers

5. Hydration Pt. II

The very idea of moving was not tempting in the slightest yet you cajole yourself out into the cold air of your apartment. Your steps are wobbly on the way to the bathroom and lurching as you press on to the kitchen.

You shovel a banana into your mouth and down an entire pint of water with great urgency. Two paracetamol tablets are then chased down with another gulp of tepid liquid.

How you manage to get back to your bedroom while holding a full glass and several packets of medication without incident, you are unsure however, it is a relief when you are back under your covers.

Sleep claims you not long after.

***

Morpheus senses your return to the Dreaming and it confuses him slightly. Why had you come back so quickly? You are a firm believer in getting up when your alarm sounds.

The Endless reasons that you must have changed your schedule. A day of leave from work, perhaps. The idea satisfies him for a little while and then curiosity becomes too predominant.

He lets his being drift towards your sleeping mind to check in.

What he finds in your subconscious is a kaleidoscope of disjointed scenes, all with an unpleasant or sinister underpinning.

You are holding a frightened cat in your arms as you wade through knee high sewage. You are in a room with an old television that bursts into flames when you go to turn it off. You are scrabbling on a hardwood floor, desperately trying to find something but being completely unable to remember what it was that you had misplaced. You are running through deserted streets, convinced that someone is following you, taking more and more detours to try and shake them off.

He feels your fear reach a crescendo as your pursuer gains a corporeal form. The images then begin to shake, burning and flashing with a palette of hyper-reality.

He has seen this many times before.

You were having a fever dream.

Which meant you were suffering.

You suddenly cry out his name and the sound is like the stab of a blade in Morpheus' gut.

He ends the nightmarish dream without hesitation, tells Lucienne of his intentions and leaves to journey to you in the Waking World.

***

Morpheus stands at the foot of your bed. Even with the curtains drawn, he is able to notice your off-colour complexion. Your eyes are closed despite being awake. The covers are draped clumsily over your frame. He longs to re-arrange them to ensure you are completely wrapped in their embrace but he doesn't want to startle you with an unexpected touch.

He speaks your name.

Your eyelids flutter and your attention is drawn to where he is standing. Your eyes are unable to focus yet you know what you are seeing is Morpheus for you would recognise his silhouette anywhere. Whether he was real was a different matter.

"Morpheus?"

"My love."

His deep, rich timbre thrums through the air at a resonance that is unable to be fabricated; no hallucination could match it even if it tried.

"Why are you here?"

As your partner, it was not the first time he had been in your house however it was the first time he had come unannounced.

"You called for me in your sleep."

"I did?" You let out a cough.

"You were having a fever dream."

You suddenly become aware of the clammy sweat that is drenching every part of your body. In fact, the more you dialled into your senses, the more you began to notice other hallmarks of being in the grasp of a fever. The inability to regulate your core temperature manifesting in the quick-fire switching of hot and cold. Deep seated shivers that ripple through your body and into the mattress. It must have come on since you had fallen asleep.

Morpheus moves to crouch beside you.

"What can I do to help you, my love?"

"I think I just need to sleep."

He concurs with a nod before adding, "I will ensure that it is a peaceful one."

He reaches inside the pocket of his coat and produces his leather pouch.

"When would you like me to wake you?"

You fumble for your phone to check the time.

"In 3 and a half hours. That's when I can take my next lot of medication."

"May I sit next to you?"

You nod your agreement.

Morpheus walks around the bed and removes his boots before situating himself beside you. He neatens the duvet with a precise tug.

"I will be here to watch over you."

"Thank you," you whisper hoarsely.

Morpheus takes some sand and breezes it across your face with a steady exhalation. He feels your mind materialise in the Dreaming.

Barefoot, you walk on the shoreline of a deserted beach. A gentle tide laps over the golden sand. The sun is high in the sky, accompanied by pillowy clouds. A tranquil haven.

You sit just out of reach of the waves and deeply breathe the sea salt air with closed eyes. Morpheus chooses this moment to step into the frame and settle next to you, a direct mirroring of your waking world configuration.

He watches you intently and is soon satisfied; your smile and the unfurling of your fists indicate that you have calmed, at least in your psychological space.

Morpheus comes back to your bedroom and assumes sentry. A couple of hours pass and then he begins to see a fiery blaze in your cheeks.

His palm presses against your forehead. It is inferno-like in temperature. He pulls you out, rife with worry. You come to slowly, weakly rubbing the remnants of the sand from the corners of your eyes.

"Is it really 10:30 already?" Your voice sounds strange and nasal when you talk.

"No, my love. I felt it necessary to wake you; you are crimson."

He folds the cover back to give you some ventilation. The cooler air feels good on your skin.

"The meds must have worn off already," you reason dazedly.

"I think it would be wise if you drink some water."

He helps you to sit up. You take small sips as he rubs circles on your lower back, an action that never fails to induce relaxation inside you.

After you lay back down, you find the next 45 minutes to be agony. The pressure in your sinuses is making the roots of your teeth ache horribly. Involuntary twitches of your limbs shoot pain everywhere. Your temperature inches higher and higher, forcing you to throw off the covers entirely.

You whimper involuntarily as the random spasms become non-stop shudders and that is when you begin to feel tears leaking from your eyes.

Morpheus hates seeing you this way. You know it from how his gaze never strays from you, in the way he protectively strokes your face.

"I'm sorry." They are the only words you can muster right now with the brain fog that has taken hold.

"Why are you apologising? You did not choose to be unwell."

His words console you instantly. You could always rely on him to be the voice of reason.

You check your phone again. It was finally time for your next round of tablets.While waiting for the medication to kick in, you find that your mind starts to lose clarity and lucidity. Fever-induced images float eerily before your eyes; you screw them shut, hoping to sleep instead but you can’t because of frustrating cyclical thoughts.

A single lyric from a song you had been listening to yesterday repeats with sanity-robbing precision. More tears fall. Morpheus wipes them away.

"Can you make me sleep again?" You ask desperately.

***

Over the next couple of days, Morpheus uses his sand several times to ease you into slumber. It wrecks your sleep pattern, along with the daytime napping, however he reasons it is necessary for healing and allows it. He also takes care of you in other ways through refilling your water glass, bringing you food and steadying you while you brush your teeth and wash.

The depths of his patience and devotion were seemingly bottomless. You do not know what you would have done without him. When you tell him this, his usual composure slips and he turns an adorable, bashful pink.

At the end of the third day, you feel a marked change in your health. The fever breaks, taking the shudders and hallucinations with it. You are still weak, achy and mentally fuzzy but the difference is such a relief for you, and for your diligent partner.

When the evening draws in, you are finding it near-impossible to switch off with your broken circadian rhythm. Morpheus is reading a book by lamplight beside you; you place a hand on his to get his attention.

“Can you help me sleep, please?”

You look automatically to the pocket where he keeps his sand pouch. Morpheus places the book on the floor.

“Not this time, my love. You are much improved and you must learn to sleep on your own again.”

You worry your bottom lip. “I don't think I can.”

He smiles at you softly, moving a few stray strands of hair off your face. “You can. I believe in you.”

“But it's so easy when you use your sand. Effortless. It’s a nice change from the usual everyday exertions.”

Morpheus’ fingers languidly caress your cheeks. His bottomless blue eyes are full of wisdom and adoration.

“I find effort to be a reliable of gauge of whether something has purpose or meaning. Everything that is worth doing requires some kind of effort,” He has adopted the whispered tone that makes his sentences sound like lullabies.

“Annoyingly, I think you may be right,” you sigh.

He releases a satisfied noise at your agreement and he lies down beside you.

“Come here.”

He initiates a slow and deep kiss. You instinctively reach for his messy, silken hair and he clings to you in a similar fashion, both of you savouring the first proper intimacy you have been able to share in many days.

Pulling away, he rests his forehead against yours. You are flooded with oxytocin and all tension in your body melts away however, despite his best intentions, you feel more awake than ever.

“Morpheus?” Your voice is croaky.

“Yes?”

“I still can't sleep.”

He laughs a precious laugh. “Let us try a different approach then, my little insomniac.”

He gently rolls you over onto your side and positions himself flush against you.

“I want you to focus on me. Feel me holding you. The sensation of my arms cradling you. My palms on your abdomen. My chest against your back.”

You do as he says, already feeling hypnotised.

“Feel my breath on your skin. Hear my voice. Inhale my scent. Taste me on your lips.”

You let out a breathy, contented noise.

“You are safe here. You can relax. Just relax your body and your mind will follow. That's it. Drift across to the Dreaming. I'll meet you there.”

His coaxing is working. You feel so very tired now.

“I love you,” you say sleepily.

“I love you too.”

You manage one more sentence. “Thank you for looking after me.”

"Always."

You nuzzle further into his embrace. His mouth brushes against the shell of your ear.

“Sleep now, my love."

[marshmallowprotection]

Hey. Hey. Comforting VAE Ray with cuddles after he wakes up from a nightmare. I'm thinking. About VAE Ray.

Ray awoke in the middle of the night, startled, chest heaving with sobs he hadn't realized he'd let out in his sleep. It certainly wasn't his first time waking up from a nightmare, and it wouldn't be the last, but this time felt particularly worse. His frantic hands tried to search your bed to find you, praying, hoping, shouting in his mind to prove that it wasn't as he feared.

He didn't want you to be gone. He didn't want to prove his nightmare to be real, and he didn't want to be back in that cabin he shared with Jihyun only to realize you would never know he was sorry for making you believe he died. He gasped around his cries for help, unsure if the words he was trying to force past his lips made any sense. Even if he was alone, he doubted anyone would find him when he couldn't even shape the word for "help"!

No... no... no... no!

Don't be gone! Don't be gone forever!

I can't lose you, please!

His dream was filled with visions of that day... that horrible, terrible day when he decided there was no hope left in this world for him and he pressed the button to be rid of himself. It was too late to turn back once the counter starter, and he dreamed of the worst. Clutching his hand against his face as he bore his heart out to you only to realize he never hit the call button in the first place.

Only to realize your contact wasn't in his phone... only to realize it was as if you never existed in the first place and his brain created you to... to make him feel better from his lonely existence. Traces you began... began to disappear as the haunting counter taunted him with its very cruel ticking noise... tock... tick... tock... tick... tock...

That infernal noise followed him outside of his dream.

When he couldn't find you, he could find the pink clock on the left bedside table, so he tossed it against the wall, praying that it would stop the countdown and save him from the bomb. It didn't shatter. He couldn't even get rid of the clock! Much less himself! How much of a failure could he be? He couldn't do anything right! His body tensed up and he had no idea what to do but cry.

That's what he did when Jihyun found him.

He cried for days until he was located.

He had no idea if he was alive or dead until someone spoke to him and cut through the paranoia.

Ray didn't want this. He didn't want to feel this way anymore. He didn't want to have these nightmares every night. He didn't want to feel like it was the end of the world. He didn't want to continue feeling as though his existence would be fraught with night terrors, triggers, and monsters made of smoke and ash. 

His good days were great, but his bad days were even worse than that. If he didn't know any better, he would say that the bad days were becoming more common. That might've been because of the anniversary. It was so close to the anniversary of his accident… and the closer the day loomed on his calendar, the more nightmares he had.

He wondered if this was his final punishment for trying to get rid of himself. He wondered if this was his punishment for surviving in the first place. He didn't know, he didn't know, he didn't know! Ray just wanted it to stop. 

Time passed, and he had no idea how long he sat there, crying, begging for help, but soon his heavy sobs turned into whimpers and whimpers turned into tremors. He didn't think anybody would come to save him, and he didn't know how to save himself. Yet, somewhere in his fears, he hadn’t realized that the door to the bedroom had opened and the soft puff of humid air trailed right behind it… not like smoke… not like the dry heat… no… more like the gentle embrace of a warm shower. 

Something fell to the ground in a clatter and he felt it.

He felt your presence.

You didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him. “Ray, Ray, my beloved. It’s okay. I’m here. I didn’t go anywhere you couldn’t reach me. I was in the shower. I was just in the other room, God, I'm sorry. The water was so loud that I didn't hear you calling for me. That's no excuse... it's okay. It's okay. I'm here now. I'm with you, I'm right here and you're safe with me.”

Your words went in one ear and out of the other, but he registered the meaning of those words. You hadn't left him. He wasn't alone. You still existed and so did he. It wasn't the end of his world. He was going to be okay. His voice was hoarse but he could manage something small, something to let you know how grateful he was to no longer wake up alone in a dusty room that hurt his scars.

"I'm so happy you're alive."

Ray was grateful to be alive on this Earth with you, grateful to have a second chance, and he didn't want to lose you because of how hard it could be to love someone as broken as him. You were patient... kind and considerate... even on his worst nights. You didn't make him feel bad for needing support... you never made him feel bad for needing a little comfort. You always made him feel safe.

You chased away those nightmares that lied to him.

You protected him from his insecurities.

You helped him feel at ease.

"I'm happy you're alive, too," you pressed your lips against the top of his head. Those words felt like Heaven at Earth, and all Ray could do to show his appreciation and relief was hold you just as tightly as you held him. "I'm happy we're together and we get to experience this life together. There's nothing I want more than to be with you. That's what I've always wanted, Ray."

That's what he always wanted, too.

[v3nusxsky]

Can I please request I wouldnt call it smut really but I dunno... some titty sucking 👉👈 ( . )( . ), Lady Lesso x reader where they're laying in bed and stuff. Fluffy, soft, lots lots lots of praise and mommy kink. Reader being called 'good girl'. 🥲

*Authors note~ oral fixation people this is for us, how I wish I could be reader in this like boobs yes please. Drabblleeeee*

*A/n~ I kinda strayed from the request I hope that’s okay it became purely self indulgent*

Trigger warnings~ praise mommy kink oral fixation suckling on breast for comfort nightmares

Prompt~see ask^^^^^

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

You had a particularly rough day and after having a nice soothing bath with your lover you'd settled into bed with one another. Leonora was happy to hold you and comfort you as you drifted off to sleep with her slender fingers scratching softly at your scalp. You happily nuzzled into the Dean of Evil who happened to be wearing one of her longer white shirts, a few buttons undone to allow the cool summer breeze to cool her already warm body. You were like a little space heater.

It wasn't uncommon for you to have nightmares, but recently they've been bad. So bad that you're subconsciousness began to become more violent. Your hands and legs hitting out in your sleep, tangling your limbs in the sheets as your fought the demons in your mind. The demons from the past you attempted to bury deep in the sand of memories. They always seemed to resurrect themselves at night, while you were at you were at your most vulnerable.

Leonora had tried to help you through those nightmares but her voice was no longer working and she learned all too quickly that touching you during these episodes of night terrors was simply not the way to go. You were small yes but no way were you weak like this, Leonora often struggled to restrain you in the throes of terror, she'd never admit it out loud but it was distressing for her to see. Her heart always broke seeing you become so disconnected from the real world, you often woke up to your own screams pulling you from your mind as you sobbed and clutched at the redhead. Those nights neither of you really had much restful sleep.

Tonight was no different, you started off the same way, whimpering broken pleads to make it stop, Lesso trying to soothe you with her voice which seemed to work for all of fifteen minutes before you again back to beg and plead for them to stop. Calling out for Leonora to make then stop. "Help me Leo, Leo! Help me" you sobbed in the throes of the past, there was no Leonora then to save you, but she was here now and she'd do anything to protect you.

In your terrified state, you moved closer to your girlfriend throwing your hand haphazardly to your right, coming into contact with her soft boob. It was like a light switched on in your dream, you shuffling closed until you had her shirt moved and your mouth latched onto her pert bud. All Lesso could do was stare at your shadow in shock while light suckling noises filled the room. The tension seemingly leaving your body and your fallen tears drying as you made content sleepy sounds.

Leonora had no idea how long she lay there, you happily suckling her breast in your sleep, she brought her hand to your hair to gently scratch your scalp in a soothing gesture, overwhelmed how such a small act could help you, and it was something Lesso enjoyed. You always loved to shower Leonora is kisses and hickeys, she was always so responsive to your light sucking on her skin. Of course this was how you needed to be soothed. It made perfect sense, you would suckle on your bear as a teenager until some cruel idiots tore him apart in front of you, that's when you began to have these episodes. You'd never found away after that to soothe yourself, you loved to have things in your mouth though, in a sexual way or not if you thought you were alone you'd place pendant of your necklace in your mouth. But none of it was the same, until tonight.

You realised a little angry whine when her nipple slipped from your mouth. Temper clearly present at having your comfort taken from you. The cool air met her wet skin which caused her to shiver. Lesso guided you back to her breast, "sleep darling you're okay now" she murmured soothingly to you. That was the first night in a long time you both got some much needed sleep.

From that night on any time you needed soothing from a distressed state all you needed to do was go and find Leonora and whisper "blue" which immediately let her know what you were seeking. Lesso always made time to give you that, although initially you were embarrassed about needing and wanted her like this you soon became more confident to ask her for that comfort when you saw the enjoyment she got from soothing you. She may be the Dean of Evil but with you she was anything but. Always willing to be soft and caring for your benefits.

Word count~ 873

[lisaas2418]

HEYA I AM BACK

And I begin my posting with some Yuu Angst, you're welcome 😁

So we know that GameYuu has it really rough there is no debate. Well imagine this and even more trauma and struggle.

Congrats thats my Yuusona.

So with the prolouge alone they got already traumatized.

1. Suddenly getting in contact with a carriage that comes out of nowhere and almost getting burned alive

2. Finding out that you are stuck in a world with magic and having almost no where to defend yourself against it.

3. Having to live in an not ideal dorm, which has dust all over the place and a broken roof. With ghosts residing in them, which is not normal in your world

4. Going in that wretched cave at night which is scary

5. The fucking Blotmonster and almost dying to it. (The real realization on almost dying comes when you try to sleep)

Now some basic things all over the chapters:

1. The fucking overblots which you get a few nightmares from.

2. On some occasions getting blackmailed by the headmage who is responsible for you (even though you blackmail him back)

3. Constantly missing those you love in the other world, worrying sick about them and losing your mind over how they feel

4. Your damm mental health being like a roller coster

5. The backstories

And now for the chapters 🙂

Heartslabuyl:

1. Being suddendly in a weird vivid dream that doesnt make sense at first

2. Some tyrant trying to insult your family

3. Getting a scar underneath your left eye from sharp bushes you protected your friend from

(Not much yet)

Savanaclaw

(Dreams getting more used to)

1. Getting a LONG scar on your right side of your body

2. Getting a head concussion on this a sports game you didnt even wanted to be there.

Octavinelle

(That one cave dream)

1. The twins...no more said

2. Becoming homeless and having no choice but to win a bet or you'll be a servant

3. Sleep problems

4. Getting your leg broken

Scarabia

(Why are the great seven mostly insane??)

1. Getting kidnapped in a sense

2. Getting hypnotized even if it was only for 5 seconds

3. Having a heatstroke

4. Being thrown into the cold part of the dessert

5. Getting cuts on your arm due to long overblot and healing constantly

Pormefiere

1. Some dormleader decided to curse your food

2. Attempting to drink the poisened apple juice yourself (but someone came first)

3. Constantly coughing blood

4. Feeling so weak you cant do shit during the fight

5. Getting scratched by your monster cat who was influenced by blot but then disappeared

Ignihyde

(Now it gets worse with the journey)

1. Not able to see your best friend

2. Felling so bad and guilty over everything you isolate yourself until the meeting

3. Your house being invaded amd destroyed by strangers

4. Almost overbloting yourself in rage of seeing your friends hurt or scared

5. Getting kidnapped (again)

6. Having to retell everything that happened regarding blots

7. Just finding out the world could end if you dont stop thesee two idiot

8. Having to watch your friends fight robots and blot monster but being unable to help them due to your blot being gone

9. Being physically and emotionally tired

10. Falling into the pit (bit being saved by your blot just in time)

11. Your legs being numb and not being able to move them

12. Coming back only to realize who will overblot next

Diasomia (I know its not finished yet, but this is how I would see it, I make future changes if needed)

1. Knowing a really close friend will overblot

2. The feeling of missing your world but feeling at home in this one clashing together (it sucks)

3. Starting to believe that all the overblots have been trigered by your presence

4. Repressing all your emotions and still trying to be there for your dragon friend and hoping to change fate by promising to always be there for him, only for him to break your trust by doing this stupid idea

5. Being stuck in a dream while some blot thing mist almost always being there

6. Repressing emotions and constantly putting yourself aside even if the people around you seeing your pain but you are brushing it off as "nothing new"

7. Having to deal with faes being mean to you for no reason but because you are a human

8. Overblotting due to repressed pain

9. Being in coma for 2 months

10. Seeing the person you trusted so much before, not able to forgive him any time soon

And thats not including the events

So yeah my Yuusona had it rough. They were only able to forgive Malleus after 2 months (ironiclly).

Now you might ask why would I come back from a long break and my first post would be Angst. Well cuz I wanted too

See ya next time 😊

[bangtaninborderland]

JHS - Twisted Feelings (9)

Summary: After working at an award show for 2 years everything had become normal, idols were no longer exciting to see, performances became dull and every day blended together, that was until an unexpected man asked for your help.

Warning: mentions of threat, blackmail?

A:N: you can find a layout image of YNS apartment at the end! Just for easier reading I’m marking any English in ITALICS, I wasn’t going to update BUT I had a little free time I leave to see yoongi next week so this will probably be the last update until I’m back!

Ch.08| Masterlist | Ch.10

When you got home it was dark, you ate, showered and climbed into bed. You were intent on turning your phone off for the night, wanting to disconnect from the world but the reminder that Hobi had asked you to let him know you got home safe stopped you.

You reached across the bed to grab the device, bridging up his contact chat.

YN: got home safe, thank you.

HS: You don’t have to thank me, did you eat?

YN: Yeah, did you?

HS: I did, had a luxurious pot of ramen.

YN: wow you really live the rich life.

HS: only the best of the best, nothing beats the reduced section in the convenience store. 🍜

YN: I’ll have to try it someday. 🤞🏻

YN: oh no

HS: What’s wrong?

YN: I still have your shirt I was planning to return it today but with all the drama it slipped my mind, I’ll give it back tomorrow I’m so sorry.

HS: Keep it.

YN: I couldn’t do that, it’s far too valuable.

HS: I eat cheap sale section ramen, I don’t have much a care about money nor the value of possessions. I liked the shirt, I brought it, I wore the shirt, you needed the shirt, I gave it to you.

YN: I don’t like taking things from people.

HS: You’re too much like Yoongi Hyung. Don’t think about it too much, if I want the shirt back I’ll ask. For now, take care of it for me. Okay? :)

YN: okay, thank you. :]

HS: Im heading home now, I’ll see you tomorrow if we cross paths after your class with Jungkook. Go easy on him.

YN: I’ll try to! Go safely, Goodnight.

HS: Goodnight. 😇

You shuffled over onto your other side, shoving your phone under your pillow before wrapping the covers around yourself.

Today definitely had been one of the worst for a while, you had this sickening feeling. You’d only been working there a few days and so much had happened already, it made you really think about the things they would go through, the things they had been through the duration of their career thus far. Maybe you could ask Jungkook, he seemed to like you. Maybe Hoseok would tell you but you postponed the idea for now, the worry of upsetting them or seeming overly invested was probably a bad take right now.

You let yourself drift off, your brain reluctantly shutting off the thought of who could be threatening you. The dark boundless space of sleep provides you with some much-needed rest.

Or so you hoped.

Your alarm went off at 6 am, normally you’d groan and ignore it for a few minutes but today you were already awake, tracing patterns in the white walls after a restless night. Nightmares occupy your dreams, a faceless figure attacking you at your childhood home. Fitting for the current situation.

You dressed down today, black slacks and a black shirt to match. Not feeling interested in putting together an award-winning outfit, you were already exhausted there was no need to spend any extra energy on things that didn’t require it.

You were nearly ready when the faint sound of your phone vibrating stopped you, the initials JJK on the screen.

“Hello?” You picked up, resting the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you put your socks on.

“Noona?” Jungkook called, it sounded as if he was whispering. “Are you busy?”

“I’m getting ready to come in now, is everything okay?”

“Don’t come into the company, it’s really busy and there are reporters outside.” He explained you could hear voices in the back although you were unable to make out who.

You considered following his advice but decided against it, work is where you should be. “I should still come in, we are supposed to have a lesson today.”

“We can still have it, I talked to the managers and they agreed it’s okay to have it at vision.”

“What’s that?” You checked through your bag, making sure you had everything necessary to teach.

“It’s somewhere we use a lot, it’s a cafe. The managers know the owners, it’s safe.” It makes sense why you’d never heard of it, cafes weren’t your go-to.

You hummed in response. Sliding your card into your purse. “Send me the address and I’ll get a taxi there.”

“It’s okay.” He laughed. “The manager can pick you up, they said we will go past your address anyway.”

His voice sounded different through the phone, if you hadn’t seen him face to face before you’d never pictured he looked the way he did. His bright eyes and soft expressions not matching the rough voice he had. It was most likely from their recent rehearsals, you’d known other idols to lose their voice especially when rehearsing for a tour. “Sure, just send me a text when you’re downstairs and I’ll come right out.”

“Sounds good, bye Noona.”

“Bye.” You dropped your phone at the sound of the call ending, you wouldn’t have enough time to eat breakfast but admittedly that was your fault. Besides, it’s not like Jungkook would mind you eating at the cafe - well you hoped. You still found yourself feeling unsure at the lines between you all. You were a staff member and technically they were your boss or at least they were more valued, what they wanted was what you give them, that is if you want to keep your job.

You finished up both your hair, skincare and make-up in 25 minutes which definitely was a new kind of personal record, you knew you had unanswered messages from NaRae but she would understand that things in your life had picked up suddenly.

The only call you were waiting on was from Jungkook so when your phone went off you were positive it was him, not even glancing at the name before accepting.

Deep breaths filled the line, almost as if someone had been running for an extended period of time. You pulled it back only to see a no-caller ID message.

“Who is this?” You weren’t one to get scared easily but this was different, you felt too aware even more so when the heavy breathing was the only response given to you. “Hello? I asked who is this?”

The voice was distorted giving you no clues to their identity. “Stay away from them.” You didn’t ask who, you knew what it was about, running over to your windows you looked around.

Seeing nothing out of the ordinary you put the phone back to your ear, perching yourself on the kitchen stool. “I don’t know who you are but this has to stop, I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You’re a liar, I don’t know why they would employ you. What if I told them about Jung-woo.” You felt your heart drop at the name you hadn’t heard for years, the incident being one of your most traumatic. “I know all sorts of things about you. I want you to help me find all sorts of things too. When I call you better answer or I’ll make sure everyone knows about you.”

You didn’t have time to respond before the call was over, you didn’t know if you had the ability to. You hadn’t heard that name in years, distant memories from your childhood creating an unsettling storm without you.

You wanted to call Narae, tell her about it, try to figure out who knew and how but you didn’t have time, you watched the familiar black car pull into your building and a text notification light up your screen.

JJK: outside Noona.

YN: coming!

You weren’t sure if you could make it to the car without throwing up, you’d never felt more regret about work. Your sullen face was a deep contrast to the grin Jungkook was wearing, clearly in a good mood.

You greeted both him and the manager as you got into the backseat of the car your seat beside the singers, you noticed your hands shaking as you clipped on the seatbelt but still forced a smile. “How are you today Noona?”

“I’m fine. I thought we could take a simple English test today it’s an online one and it will allow me to see where we should start. Do you know the alphabet?” You tried to seem as professional as possible even with your worried mind.

The younger laughs, nodding. “I know the alphabet I’m not that far behind.”

You laughed with him, yours much more half heated than his. “It’s important for me to know, it’s like someone learning Korean without knowing Hangul. It wouldn’t work.”

“I suppose so, although you could still learn the meaning of words and how to say them through videos.” He countered, his head resting against the window.

“Ah but imagine how much easier it would be if they learned Hangul and then could read and pronounce them without the videos. You won’t be able to watch videos on stage which is why it’s good to understand and be able to speak even basic English.” You explained, folding your fingers against themselves.

“I guess but is there like an easy way that I can become really good at it? I want the hyungs to be surprised.” You found his take endearing, you could see from your position that they were all close. “It must be fun to know English.”

“It’s become very normal to me now, I do prefer doing everything in Korean though.” It was much easier, even if you did have an extensive understanding of the English language.

“Can we talk in English?” He was so excited and it was your job to indulge them in any teacher matter, you smiled at him and nodded. Your brain seemed to filter out once you said hello in English.

You wanted to take notes but the bumpy car ride would have made them a mess so instead you formed a mental diary ready to take note of his current abilities. “What are you doing today?”

“I am taking class for studying English!” You loved his enthusiasm, his accent a clear mix of false American and Korean. “With teacher.” He tacks on.

You giggle at his grand gesture to you. “Good! Now can you tell me your favourite things?”

“I like…” he trailed off looking around for something to point out. “Oh, I like art!” He pointed out the window to a mural that had been painted along the side of a building. “I wish I could get out and take pictures” he mumbled in Korean, a sadness to his tone.

“Why, we can ask to stop?” You continued in English.

He shook his head. “No, busy, lots of people can look.” It was clear English wasn’t the most difficult for him, seeming to have a good grasp of the language, certain letters could be pronounced softer but somehow his choice of tone fit his personality. The exposure to it whilst they spent time overseas definitely had helped give them an advantage when it came to learning. “Unsafe.”

“Maybe you could come back later at night and take some?” You hoped your solution fixed his dulled excitement but it just drew a deep sigh from him.

“I guess.”

“Do you ever feel like you miss things?” You couldn’t stop yourself before the question was out. “Don’t answer that if you feel uncomfortable I’m sorry if that was over the line.”

He rushed to answer. “No no it’s fine, I don’t like to be sad because I’m privileged. I get to experience so many wonderful things and meet so many wonderful people but sometimes I wish I enjoyed the simple things in life, taking a walk on the street, going for a meal, going to see a movie.”

You could understand the wish, it was simple and yet for someone who had so much money and the ability to do so many extraordinary things there were so many simple ones that he just couldn’t have. Things money couldn’t buy. “I can’t relate to it but I do understand. It’s okay to feel sad about things though, sad emotions are okay as much as thankfulness.”

He gave you a nod. “I can see why Hobi Hyung likes you so much. You’re kind. We are here by the way.”

The sudden revelation threw you off, it was nice to be liked. It was a quaint area, there was no foot traffic. You could see why it appealed to the members. “It’s nice here.”

“Let me take the bag.” He held his hand out and you handed it over, thankful to give your shoulder a break from the weight, even if it was for a few minutes books are heavy. “You should try the cake they have here, it is so fresh.”

“They bake it fresh?” Many of the cafes in Seoul despite being trendy and cute usually had a funky taste, it was rare to find a fresh cafe.

“Fresh?” He looked at you for a few seconds before seemingly understanding what you meant. “Yes. It’s the best, I’ll buy us one for the trouble.” He laughs holding the door open.

True to his word - and your refusal - he brought you both cake and a coffee that was 3 sizes too big. The lesson had gone smoothly, Jungkook understood most things and tried hard to understand others. The earlier call dance around the outskirts of your brain, the distorted voice coming back now and again.

You knew you should tell the management but the threat of no name exposing something so private made you hesitant, instead you settled on calling NaRae once you got back home. The manager returned three hours later to pick you both up, dropping you off before taking Jungkook to the company. The younger explained that he had some work to finish.

You ran into the convenience store down the street, grabbing some snacks, gimbap and ramen. Dinner would have to be quick tonight, you’d already called NaRae who said she would come over right away after hearing your worried tone and you didn’t want to keep her waiting.

You arrived home, a knock following just after you’d taken your shoes off. You opened it to find a slightly tired-looking NaRae who offered you a plastic bag before stepping inside. “You look like you went to a funeral, why is your outfit so…sad?”

You ignored her comment brushing it off with an eye roll. “What’s this?” You peeked inside, slowing the door with your foot. “Food?”

“Dumplings.” She smiled, already reaching to grab chopsticks and bowls from the cupboards in your kitchen. “Didn’t seem like you had a great day I thought it would help. Go sit I’ll make it.”

“Oh, yeah thank you.” You handed the bag back over to her and took a seat at the table as she brought over the food, the smell already causing your mouth to water. “They smell so good.”

“So what’s wrong?” She sighed, picking up her own chopsticks.

“Someone called me today, they told me that I should quit.” You started out, wanting to gauge her demeanour before continuing.

She gave you a confused look, you always loved how she has the inability to mask her emotions with a straight face. Her open expression earned you both a few issues in the past. “Is that all? I thought someone had sent you a dead bird or something.”

You swallowed your food, scoffing lightly at her extreme take. “They knew about woosung.”

At the mention of the name, she choked on her food, her eyes widening at you. “How, Woosung? That’s confidential right?”

“No one knows. You haven’t told anyone right?” You question her sheepishly, your eyes trained on her food rather than herself.

Her hand reached across the table, her nails painted a sheer pink with flower decals on them. “I would never tell anyone about that, maybe it’s just a name they went with? Are you sure it’s not an old friend or even a distant family member?”

“Rae you already know the entirety of my family line, besides we both know I’m not the most popular.”

“I guess that’s true.” She sighed, you pinched her hand in response, not missing the undertone of her comment. “Ouch for one and have you told the company for two?”

You shook your head, releasing her hand. “No, I don’t want them to find that out. Do you think I should?”

“No absolutely not, that would damage your reputation. Do not bring this up to the company or the members okay?” Her eyes were wide, almost fearful.

You could understand why though, she knew the Jung-Woo story, anyone who knew the Jung-Woo story was fearful, especially for you.

— AN — (apartment floor plan)

[jeweledstone]

A rather silly sounding dream I had that was actually horrifying in execution tbh

DATE: 9/12/2024

I had a dream last week that seems like it would be pretty ridiculous, but was actually downright horrifying both in the moment, and when thinking about it after I woke up. I actually told my therapist about this one (minus a few details to make it sound less crazy) and they agreed it was pretty disturbing.

TW for mentions of body horror, familial abandonment, and loss of bodily autonomy

Okay, so in the universe this dream took place in, the live streams I do every now and then on my yt channel were much more popular than they are here. Like, fucking Jerma levels of popularity where it made the streaming stuff a full time job for me. On its own, this scenario would be kinda unsavory for me since my real passion/ dream job is animation and live streams are more of a side hobby, but it gets worse. Apparently at my streaming job, I had this manager of sorts, who was this short white woman with curly hair and glasses, who basically made all the decisions regarding my streams and stuff for me. I had literally no say in anything, it was all her.

So we got me stuck in a job I don’t have any passion for with a manager who bosses me around all the time and won’t let me make decisions for myself about my own damn channel, already sounds like a borderline nightmare. But what if I told you it got worse? And in a direction that feels entirely outta nowhere?

So basically, it all came to a head when my manager came to the conclusion that I was “too boring” as a person and that apparently was affecting my streams. The way she decided to “fix” this, again, entirely without my input or consent, was fucking horrifying.

Apparently, she was able to make contact with a certain angry rat and was able to convince him to give her a modified version of the Blue Licorice serum that was supposed to be only temporary effect/transformation-wise. Basically she would forcefully inject that shit into me before a stream and “Pizzano” would take control of my body and end host the streams instead of the real me. Cause, y’know, apparently the cartoon Italian guy is way cooler than me I guess. (Which is kinda true but still what the actual FUCK???)

Again, this was supposed to be only temporary and only a during the streams thing. SUPPOSED TO BE. Idk if there was still traces of the serum leftover in my system, or if this was an unexpected side effect or WHAT, but basically Pizzano would start randomly taking over without me even getting injected and would be in control for long periods of time, during which my consciousness would be left in this sunken place-style void of sorts where I had no idea what was happening or what he was doing. Didn’t help that every takeover was preluded to by a rather painful transformation of sorts. I remember trying to fight against the changes in an absolute panic every time before he inevitably took control again.

So yeah, the rest of the dream was me/my consciousness constantly fighting him over control of my body Jekyll and Hyde style. Shit got so bad that I ended up having my family start distancing themselves from me cause I was apparently a lot more violent and manic as Pizzano and the shifts in control were becoming more and more sudden/unpredictable.

And that’s pretty much all I remember of it. Honestly, if you removed the funny Sugary Spire character bit from the whole story, this shit sounds fucking terrifying as a concept. (Let alone EXPERIENCING IT like I did) It’s funny too cause in a way, it’s sorta a commentary on how people tend to act a lot differently online then they do irl and if we’re not careful, we can end up losing ourselves to this persona which can start effecting our real lives and relationships with those around us.

But unnecessary philosophical take aside, that’s pretty much all I gotta say about this one. Thanks for reading I guess :)

[airi-p4]

Guarded and protected - Chapter 2

-----------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Epilogue

-----------------------------------------------------------

Summary:

Marinette forces Luka to become the new Guardian of the Miraculous after confessing her mutual feelings to him. Seeing her healthier with her memories erased, Luka decides to keep his distance so she doesn't get involved with the Miraculous again.

Tw: Amnesia, Angst with a happy Ending

AO3

_____________________________

Chapter 2: Before and after

Earlier that day, before the event that changed everything, Marinette had come to see him, agitated and troubled. After he helped her cool down a bit, she started talking; it was then when she told him about her secret identity, which he already knew. She had also told him how she had taken care of the Black Cat Miraculous and designated a new wielder for it. Luka didn't question it; he completely trusted her judgment. 

And then, she told him he would be a great Guardian and the best partner she could ever wish for. 

He imagined she meant it as a shared Guardianship—but her last words proved him wrong.

Before she renounced Guardianship, she  confessed that she had never stopped loving him—and everybody (except her, maybe) knew he hadn't either.

Probably—no, most likely— the reason it took him so much to realize what was actually happening was because he had lost himself in the contact of her lips on his. 

She kissed him. And he kissed her back, as he had longed to for so long…

He had no idea that joy would be so brief (yet unforgettable and everlasting in his memories).

A low and soft "I love you," exchange followed. A shy smile, and a bittersweet look projected in her eyes the next moment, when she finished saying the Guardianship renouncing words she had once learned from the previous Guardian and her mentor.

He hadn't known. He had no way to know. He couldn't have anticipated it. Not until Tikki told—yelled—at him.

Her memories were gone…

What about her feelings…? 

His heart dropped with her simple question: "Who are you?"

It hurt. A lot. 

Like the worst of his nightmares. 

Worse than those he had already been suffering lately—with failed or possible gone wrongs and heart-wrecking second chances crystal clear in his mind, restlessly tormenting him in his sleep, making him wake up agitated and dizzy and covered in shivering cold sweat almost daily. 

At least the bad dreams ended when he woke up—unlike what was going on now: cruel reality.

If he had known about her memory loss… would he have accepted the magical box? 

Probably not, but he wasn't sure. 

Because, looking at her, there, in front of him, the bags on her eyes gone, as well as with the gloomy air that had surrounded her for years and just until a minute ago, added to how she wasn't tense or anxious either anymore…

She looked healthier and, despite his pain, he couldn't not be happy for her.

[toasecretsanta]

A gift for @colorsunlikeanythingseen written by @m-arnie-xx based on the prompt “Apollo & Jason”

Caelus Grey had more fingers on one hand than he had friends, and he couldn’t have given a damn that most people thought this was some terrible tragedy.

Because, like, of course it sucked to sometimes spend his lunchtimes alone at school — when Friend Number 1 was off at student council and Friend Number 2 was sick, and that was the full extent of his friends at school — but it did make birthday party planning a whole lot easier.

And yes, obviously it might’ve been nice to have a slightly bigger chance of getting one of his friends in each of his classes, odds that were usually stacked against him, but Caelus couldn’t deny that his grades were probably a whole lot better because of it.

You see, the thing was that he’d just never been that much of a social person. He valued a few, strong bonds over casual acquaintances any day, and everytime he thought about just biting the bullet and trying to at least engage in small talk with his lab partner, or seat-mate, that voice in the back of his head would whisper and remind him, You had better friends once.

The voice was delusional, but Caelus digressed.

The point was: he had exactly three friends and was perfectly okay with that number.

Who needed a contact list longer than the Collins English dictionary, for instance, when Ximena knew his Wendy’s order off the back of her hand, and shamelessly spent her dad’s money to buy him it whenever he was having a bad day after another one of his nightmares dreams about that damn yacht against?

Who needed a friend in every class when Aidan always saved him a seat in the cafeteria, and once agreed to hide a baby bird, that Caelus had saved, in his room after Caelus’ mother had banned him from bringing home any more animals into his own? 

Who needed a hundred friends at their birthday party, when Lester could persuade his parents to let him take Caelus out to just about anywhere for his birthday present, including (though not limited to) multiple Broadway shows, the Military Aviation Museum, and honest-to-gods France in the past few years?

No one. Certainly not Caelus, that was for sure.

Ximena, Aidan, Lester — yes, he was happy with the three friends he had.

----

(“I’m sorry, but I’ve checked a hundred times. He’s not in Elysium, not anymore. Jason must have gone for rebirth.”

“And there’s no way to tell? No way to find out who he’ll be reborn as?”

“No. And even if there was, I’d be breaking so many rules trying to find out.”

A sigh. “Thank you for trying Nico.”

“You’re welcome, Lester.”)

----

For as long as he could remember, Caelus was sure that he had a guardian angel looking after him.

When he was younger, only a small toddler really, this angel had taken the form of an imaginary friend just a little too real to be created from his mind. Moving around constantly because of his dad’s job, Caelus had spent most of his childhood playing alone — which probably contributed to his lack of friends as he grew up, to be totally honest — except for the fact that he never had been by himself at all.

He’d build a tower of sand in his kindergarten’s playpit, and his imaginary friend would be kneeling next to him, patting down the walls and teaching him how to use water to turn them from crumbly sand to hardened and strong.

He’d search through his newest school’s library for the next book in his favourite series, and his imaginary friend would be searching too, somehow always able to find the book before Caelus did and pressing it into his hands with a wink.

He’d be flicking through channels on the TV, utterly bored and stuck for ideas on what to watch, and his imaginary friend would reach over and pluck the controller out of his hand, changing over to a programme on paramedics that was probably not entirely age appropriate but Caelus would credit years later for being what initially inspired him to become a doctor.

And then, as he hit middle school, and then high school, his imaginary friend became much more than that: he became his protector.

The first houseparty that Caelus ever attended, fourteen years old and completely out of his depth, his guardian angel had been the one to take him home that night, giving him a stern lecture on the dangers of alcohol but helping him sneak back into his room so he didn’t get caught by his parents all the same.

When he was failing an essential class and completely convinced that he was going to fail the exam that was worth half his grade, his guardian angel had sat with him for hours the evening before, explaining the same concepts over and over again with the patience of a saint until Caelus finally understood everything, before sending him off to bed with the reminder that “Without a good night’s sleep, all of this will have been for nothing, so you’d better get your full eight hours, you understand?”

And when his dad had gotten into a car crash, and all the doctors had been prepping to turn off the life support and announce the Time of Death, it was his guardian angel that had shown up with a determined look, like nothing Caelus had ever seen before, on his face and strode past medical staff who couldn’t see him into the surgery himself, only to return five minutes later following behind an overjoyed doctor who announced that “Everything is going to be okay. Your dad will make a full recovery.”

So, yeah — imaginary friend turned guardian angel. How brilliant.

(And if the first time Caelus had ever met Lester he’d had to do a double take, then that was only natural and a complete coincidence. After all, they both had blondish-brown hair and blue eyes — it was no wonder that they looked like they could be twins in Caelus’ eyes.)

----

(“Apollo.”

“I know, Hades, I know. No contact with the reborn. But it’s not as if I’m trying to remind him of his past life or anything.”

“You saved his dad. His dad, who was supposed to die.”

“I won’t apologise. If the Fates wanted James Grey dead that much, even I would not have been able to stop his death.”

“…Stay away from him Apollo. If your father finds out-”

“He won’t. I promise, I won’t let him find out.”

“Good. See that you don’t.”)

----

Congratulations graduates!

He was looking like an idiot for sure, but Caelus couldn’t help the grin that would overtake his face every time he looked at the banner strung over the stage that he would walk across in less than an hour, to collect the diploma he had spent the last four years working towards.

Of course, this newly-acquired degree wouldn’t mean he was going to become a fully fledged doctor any time soon. No, years more of junior doctor training awaited him even after he got his initial qualifications, but so sue him if the idea of not having to survive of black coffee and awful college meals was a joyous one.

“Stop it,” said Ximena, swatting his arm. “You look like you’re high, grinning stupidly every few minutes.”

“Oh shut up Xi.” Caelus bumped his shoulder against hers in retaliation. “I’m not high. I’m just happy, that’s all.”

She sniffed. “Good thing you are. I’d hate to see you miserable after spending so much money on this degree.”

“Technically, it was the bank that paid for most of this diploma.” 

“Well then, you’d better enjoy this good feeling now, hadn’t you? Before you see all the student debt you’ve racked up and forget what the concept of happiness is, y’know.”

Caelus did not bother to deign her with a reply, choosing instead to scan the crowd of graduates and family members for his parents, who’d walked off to peruse the selection of canapés and should have been returning anytime soon. He did not get very far in his crowd-searching, however, before another, melodic and very familiar voice spoke from his left.

“Well done,” it said. Only with years of having his imaginary friend (and, wow, how had it been twenty years, and he still hadn’t come up with a better name for him yet) appear out of nowhere as experience, did Caelus manage not to jump out of his skin with the surprise.

“Dude,” he said, not bothering to whisper — somehow, others never heard him when he was talking to his imaginary friend. “A little warning next time, please?”

“Sorry,” his friend grinned, not sounding very sorry at all. He slung an arm over Caelus’ shoulders. “I meant what I said though: well done on graduating. Med school is tough as Tartarus to get through, but you did so amazingly.”

Caelus turned slightly pink at the compliment, even as he pondered the odd choice in words. Tough as Tartarus. From his elective on Greek and Roman mythology back in high school, he knew that Tartarus was the Ancient Greek and Roman’s equivalent of hell. “Thanks.”

His friend hummed, smiling, then turned his head to the sky, the light of the sun illuminating his face and making his hair shine like liquid gold. “Nice day for a graduation ceremony, don’t you think?”

Caelus looked up at the cloudless sky. “Yeah, it is.” He glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye, then back up. “Odd though, because the weatherman said it was supposed to rain today.”

There was a chuckle from his left. “As if I’d ever let it rain on such an important day as this.”

Wait… what?

Caelus frowned. “What do you mean, ‘as if I’d ever let it rain’?”

There was no reply. He turned his head to look at his imaginary friend, mouth open to ask exactly what he’d meant by that, but only an empty chair awaited him.

----

(Years later, Caelus died from a brain tumour, surrounded by his family and friends. He had lived a long life, working as a doctor for many years before retiring to travel the world with his wife, Ximena Grey neé Ortiz, and passed from this world to the next happily, and with few regrets.

In his last few weeks of life, a new doctor was assigned to look after him while he stayed at the hospital. With hair like liquid gold and eyes bluer than sapphires, even with his brain failing, Caelus could have recognised his guardian angel anywhere.

“You came,” he croaked.

“As if I was going to let you die without getting to say goodbye,” replied his friend, busying his hands by flicking through Caelus’ medical charts to hide their shaking.

And say goodbye he did, standing beside Caelus’ bed as he slipped into Thanatos’ clutches, and waiting ready in the Underworld to welcome him as he entered, all memories of his past life restored to him.

“Jason…” Apollo whispered, running across the Hall of Judgement to embrace his brother.

“Thank you,” Caelus Jason murmured in reply. He didn’t elaborate further; he knew Apollo would know what he was thanking him for.

His brother drew back, and though there were tears in his eyes, a smile was also stretched across his face. “It was my pleasure,” he said, “Truly.”)

[yatonokey]

Can I have an ace x reader scenario where he's comforting reader after a nightmare? :)

– 🔥🪰

Anything for you Firefly. Personally I do not think Ace would be good at comforting, but he sure would try.

———————————————————————

You almost felt like it would’ve been real. Like you had somehow lost all of your friends all in one go with no explanation of why. Just that people acted like you had done something horribly wrong.

Calming down enough to think more clearly - though not my much - you glanced at your phone’s contacts, scrolling until you got to a familiar name.

Ace Trappola. Probably not the best person to call first in retrospect, but you at least wanted to hear your crush’s voice in these trying times. The phone rang for a ridiculous amount of time, you were close to hanging up, but at the last second you heard his annoyed voice over the phone.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Ace grumbled and you paused for a second. Maybe this was a bad idea? Deciding it was your nervously laughed.

“Ahaha, I guess not. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you said, though in your attempt to sound cheery it came off as forced. The other end of the line was dead silent before Ace mumbled something inaudible and hung up.

You slumped from your spot and curled up in a ball. Of course that’s how it would go. Maybe your dream was right after all. For a while your thoughts spiraled further and further how maybe your mind was speaking facts, but the knock on your door after fifteen minutes jolted you out of your thoughts.

“Um, who’s there?” You said, your voice weak.

“Clearly Ace. I told you I’d be over soon, didn’t I?” The person behind the door answered and you scrambled to open it.

Sure enough Ace was on the other side. His hair was messy, and the sweatpants he wore didn’t match his jacket - a literal school blazer - which he probably haphazardly put on in the rush to get to ramshackle. He seemed about to say something, but halted when he noticed your expression.

“Shit. You are crying. So who do I have to teach a lesson,” Ace said and you felt yourself become flustered.

“Huh? No no no! It’s my own brain…” you trailed off and he paused, hand on his chin.

“Alright so what’s the issue?” Ace asked much to your surprise. Before you could deny his offer to vent he cut you off. “Don’t even think about bottling this up. You play therapist for literally everyone at this school. Take a break, alright?”

You sighed and began explaining the nightmare you had while sitting on your bed beside Ace. Eventually you finished and his first response caused you to be shellshocked.

“That’s stupid.”

“Excuse me?” You were offended and rightfully so.

“No. I mean - ah shit I’m bad at this. What I mean to say is that it would be stupid to leave someone as wonderful as you,” Ace said and you could have sworn the tips of his ears were red. He looked uncharacteristically shy, probably not used to dishing out compliments.

But that’s what made his words feel genuine. Ace was many things, but a liar wasn’t one of them. He tells it like it is, whether you want to hear it or not.

Apart of you felt flattered, but you felt yourself deflate again the more you thought about it.

“Maybe that’s just you. Like, what about the others like Deuce?” You asked but Ace snorted.

“In what universe would Deuce hate you? You became his best friend at the very start.” He said and you felt yourself sigh.

“Thanks.”

“Anything for you,” Ace replied, his tone joking but you couldn’t help thinking that his words had weight to them. Suddenly he stood up. “I have to get back before Riddle notices I’m gone. But if you’re still feeling bad tomorrow I’ll buy you a snack.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” you replied before the two of you shared a smile.

[roman-cates]

Roman lies down, but doesn't try to make contact with Bryce. Odd. Bryce extends an arm in invitation, and Roman slides in close. Only after he's holding Roman does Bryce think that might have seemed like an order and Roman didn't feel he had any choice.

At that point it's a little too late to do anything about it, and Bryce falls asleep several minutes later, still worrying about it.

He doesn't see the lightening ten minutes later. The crack of thunder that follows doesn't disturb his dreams.

Previous

A moment after Roman lays back down, Bryce extends an arm, inviting him to move closer. Roman slides in closer and blinks a couple times, trying to shake off the odd feeling of dead that creeps up in his chest.

A few minutes pass and Roman can tell that Bryce has fallen asleep. As more time ticks by, Roman's racing heart slows back to normal and he's able to shut his eyes and start trying to sleep.

Not two minutes after he closes his eyes, however, a flash of white lights the room again— Roman can see it through his eyelids. The thunder that follows makes him bolt upright again, trembling fiercely, breathing unsteady. He's not there anymore— not in the guestroom, not with Bryce. It's like a fucking waking nightmare.

The room is dark. Roman can barely see. He doesn't know how J can see. It doesn't matter, though. Clearly they can.

Roman hears the crack of a whip— loud and startling— and he knows what's coming next. His arms, which have been tied, forcibly held out from his sides, are burning from the weight of his body. He can't hold himself up with his legs anymore— not with one broken.

"Are you scared?" He hears J ask, a smirk in their tone as they crack the whip again.

"Yes— yes, I'm scared— fuck— ple-please don't—" Roman's voice in the guest room is quiet and still.

Hot pain flashes across Roman's back as J brings the whip down across his skin. He screams.

In the guest room, the scream only comes as a quiet whimper, but the pain feels real— so real.

"I've been thinking about bringing you upstairs, puppy." J says. Roman can hear the whip slide across the floor. Upstairs? That would be good— he could—

Roman screams again as the whip makes contact.

Another quiet whimper. Tears start to stream down his cheeks, huge, terrified tears. His breathing is getting even more choppy now.

"But I've decided that would be a bad idea. Wouldn't want you to get blood on the carpet, would we, puppy?"

The whip comes down again and the pain is acute. Roman can feel the blood becoming too pool underneath him, dripping— no, flowing— from his back onto the concrete floor.

But... it's just sheets. There is no blood.

A laugh begins to echo in the dark room. The light seems to be sucked away and it gets darker, and darker, and darker, and...

Lightning flashes brightly through the window once more.

For a moment, the room lights up, and Roman wishes it hadn't. He can see— just for a moment— J, right in front of his face, bloody and laughing at him. Always laughing at him.

Thunder cracks again and Roman screams, ducking and covering his head.

He's alone again... a door slams shut...

[talentforlying]

☎️ [ hmm. for dream or corinth. somehow. ]

tempus frangit. so it does. so he does, with it.

his mistake is a mortal one, that of sheer fucking arrogance: considering the endless as a building and not a living, intangible thing. every door a tantalizing lock, a challenge, with secrets of the universe tucked away that are all well worth stealing. he doesn't think once that maybe the realms were made for people, open mouths and stomachs to digest what people can't. he doesn't think that DELIRIUM might find him familiar enough to swallow whole.

he's lost before he even knows where he is. seas of color. fractal dimension. he follows a wall with his hand until the wall becomes alive and leaves, and then he runs, just runs, but he doesn't get any farther. there's a yawning hole like a cell door, like ravenscar — sparks of blue electric, blood and violence — and he twists away from it at the last second but it doesn't twist away from him. ever-present, just around the corner that's not a corner. not a warning, or a threat, just something that is: the initial point of contact between him and this senseless world. hell.

he won't go through that door. he can't walk through that door.

STAR EYES, come on, star eyes. wake him from this nightmare. but this isn't the dreaming, this is another place, so can he touch it? do the endless walk between like rooms in a house? can dream even hear him when it's not in his own head, when he's not asleep, when it's a prayer in the wrong church and with the wrong words besides?

' dream? dream! morpheus, you fucking hearing me?! someone get me off this fucking ride or i swear — '

what? swear to what? to who, and why, and how? words don't have a meaning here. promises don't last long enough to keep. maybe the timeless bastard thinks this is funny. maybe there's not even enough of him left to dream. maybe even the fear is slipping away from him, peeling in strips off his bones, and constantine's being emptied out of anything dream could recognize, if he ever chose to look. no sense. no salvation.

but there's . . . another option. worse, but certain. a portal in his head, forever where he is. A DARK MIRROR. in delirium, he can see the inside of his skull, a diorama box with one side open to the air: it shines there, like a break in the plane of reality. bad, bad idea. horrible idea. let him out. lethimoutlethimoutlethimout.

he reaches in and wraps his fingers tight around the sliver in his head. ' oi. you. you want a taste? you want an eye? ' tighter. drawing blood, dripping crimson down the pane. like leaving a trail of bread crumbs. making a bargain. ' come and get it. you've gotta come and get it, fucker. '

tempus frangit. so it does. so he does, with it. get him. out of. here.

@nightmarecountry / MIDNIGHT CALLS

[jimothy-hopkins]

Meddling Kids VI

WARNING! This work/series contains mentions of slut shaming, EDs, gore, implied torture, implied SA, SH, violence, and many other things that can trigger some viewers. I will also mention that this work does NOT intend to glorify, romanticize, normalize, or promote ANY of these behaviors or ideas. That is not who I am and that is not what I stand for. Please do not take that message away when you read this.

This is a Manhunt/Bully crossover. Please enjoy at your own risk.

Jimmy only turned to look away when Gary hit the floor.

To his right, Pete knelt over, throwing up on the hardwood floor.

Jimmy stepped ahead, ejecting the tape just as another bloodcurdling scream played. For a moment, he stood still, processing the footage he had just seen. Part of him wanted to believe that this was a bad dream, but the sickness and the impending sense of doom proved him wrong. He didn’t even know someone could scream that loud. God, he didn’t need to see what violent things those depraved men did to that poor girl.

Pete stood up, shaking as tears fell from his eyes. The head boy’s hands trembled as he glanced down, coughs escaping him.

Jimmy sniffled, kneeling to look over Gary, who had passed out. He felt the back of his head for a bump or cut, relieved to find no injury. He turned back, motioning for Pete to come and help him. The taller student shuffled over, lifting his cousin by the legs while Jimmy looped his grasp under Gary’s armpits. The pair gently rested him on Pete’s bed.

“Can you grab water?” Jimmy asked.

“Mhm,” Pete nodded, retrieving a small water bottle from his desk and bringing it over.

Jimmy unscrewed the top, pouring small amounts of water into his palm and splashing it on Gary’s face. Occasionally he would slap his cheeks, bringing them to an irritated red as Gary woke up.

“Please tell me you turned that shit off..” Gary said.

“We did,” Jimmy replied.

“We need to call the cops,” Pete spoke.

Jimmy turned, now angry.

“Call the cops? Pete, the reason this tape even exists is because the cops don’t do their jobs!” He shouted, making Pete cower back.

Silence hung for a moment before Gary sat up.

“We need to talk to Edward again,” He said.

“Not right now. Not- not after this, Gary..” Pete sniffled, rubbing the side of his arm.

Without another word, Jimmy exited the room, returning to his dorm.

Jimmy could barely sleep in the days that followed. When he did, his head tormented him with nightmares of Alice's violent torture. Every night he would wake at an odd hour soaked in a puddle of cold sweat. It sickened him knowing her fate. It made Jimmy sick, knowing that he likely could have changed the outcome if he had been more aware.

HE walked, swallowing the lump that had developed in his throat. His feet shuffled over the salt-covered walkway. Jimmy stopped once he reached the parking lot. Here he saw the bullies pulling their usual antics, building a dick-shaped snow sculpture, and tagging random areas. He spotted Angelina talking with Summer Callahan and made his way over.

“Hey,” He initiated.

“Oh, sup baldy,” Angelina smirked.

“Yeah, whatever. I need to talk to you, Lina.” He told her.

Her facial expression changed, and the blonde stood upright. “Alright,” she nodded.

The two walked, trailing to the small yard behind the bus.

“I’m sorry,” Jimmy sighed.

“Jimmy, what are you even talking about? I don’t-”

“She’s dead, Lina,” Jimmy spat.

“You’re lying,” She spat.

“I’m sorry, Lina,” He breathed.

“You’re fucking lying to me, Hopkins!” Angelina yelled.

“I saw it on video!” He yelled back.

“Let me see it-” She breathed, stepping forward.

“No, I’m not letting you,”

“Why not!?”

“You don’t need to see her like that, Angelina!”

“She’s my girlfriend!”

“That’s why! Do you wanna see her crying for mercy? Do you!? Is that what you want!?” Jimmy hollered, getting in her face.

Angelina stood, becoming quiet as she thought. Jimmy stared, keeping defiant eye contact with the tall blonde.

Her knees buckled, and loud sobs left Angelina. Jimmy knelt beside her, hugging the bully as she cried. The ginger would rub circles into her back, guilty for how he had shouted at her.

“I’m sorry, Lina,” Jimmy said, “I’ll find whoever did this to Alice,”

“Please, I want to help,” She sniffled.

“No, you’ve been through enough. Let me take you back to the dorms, ok?” He offered as he helped the girl to her feet.

As the afternoon set in, the students left their classes. Pete confidently walked through the campus, hoping to have a moment to speak with Edward. The young man entered the prefect dorms, turning around to look down the hall. He heard what sounded like an argument coming from the lounge area. He sighed, walking down the hallway and peering through the door. He saw Max MacTavish and Edward standing in front of one another amid an argument. The other three prefects stood on the other side of the room, glancing between Pete, themselves, and their group members.

“Do you have any idea how Unbearable you are!?” Edward screamed.

“You’re one to talk!” The brunette snapped.

“OH Really? You’re such a lapdog!” The former prep sneered.

“At least I’m not Bullworth Academy’s bottom bitch!”

“How dare you!”

Edward lunged forward, delivering a hard punch to Max’s jawbone. Pete gasped, scrambling to pull him away.

“Goddammit, why don’t you three help me!?” Pete yelled.

Seth, Diana, and Karl all scrambled, assisting in prying Max and Edward away from one another. The two seniors kicked and thrashed as they continued to throw swears and insults at one another.

Pete gritted his teeth, losing his cool and raising his voice.

“Shut UP!”

The room went silent, tension rising as they all looked toward Pete.

“How did this even start?” He demanded, stepping back.

“He wanted to try and-”

“Ed and Seth were too busy-”

“We were NOT!”

“Yes you fucking were!”

“STOP!” Pete hollered once more.

Max and Edward ceased their childish bickering, breathing hard as they looked at one another with hatred.

“I’ll ask you again, individually. Max, care to explain yourself?” Pete glared.

“This entire week, Edward's been ditching us for stupid stuff. I’m sick of picking up his slack! He just free roams and flirts with the girls and Seth!” Max explained.

“Edward?” Pete turned.

“Max continuously disrespects me! This entire day he’s been slut-shaming me! You heard what he called me!” Edward defended.

“Look, you guys need to suck it up and get away from each other. But for now, I need to talk with Ed.” Pete ordered.

Seth quietly let go of Edward, watching as he and Pete both left the room.

Edward followed Pete to his dorm, stopping once the door was closed.

“We need to use you as bait again,” pete told him.

“What? No, I’m not doing this anymore,” Edward argued.

“It’s either you do that, or I’m gonna let everyone know you snort lines,” Pete threatened.

Edward sighed, dropping his shoulders and groaning.

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

[okamixxiii]

Allistaire Hale and Christian Edens

Warning: This contains spoilers because I can't keep my fucking mouth shut okay and I've been thinking about them more and more. I may delete this later.

BASICS; Let's begin with: ALLISTAIRE IS NOT CHRIS! ALLISTAIRE IS NOT AN ANCESTOR!

The reason they are a thing is that they are doppelgangers and that has significance in my universe.

Sometimes it means history repeats itself, sometimes it doesn't. Some doppelgangers can be related to each other but that isn't always the case. Another example pair of nonblood-related "doppelgangers" would be Charolette Hale and Bailey Edens. An example of blood-related would be Nicholas Cinder and Anthony Cinder.

Even though Allistaire and Chris are not related nor each other they are somewhat going to become an analogy (?) of confronting "one's self" of what was and what could have been. maybe loosely past and present self, but again I repeat they are not the same person. Both suffered great losses but both dealt with it differently. Allistaire is wiser in it, subdued. Live and let go. Chris by the end is bitter and surfeited with experiences (good or bad). In some ways can be seen as blindly angry and childish in comparison to how Allistaire deals with things. Allistaire ends up trying to console Chris which causes a rift between them. See what I mean? (Hopefully)

it's complicated. Blame Kingdom Hearts for my ideas. Another thing to note is the Renascence isn't Allistaire as some may believe, Allistaire is a human that had/has ties with the "Wolf". The Wolf itself is the Renascence. I will be using the term Wolf and Renascence interchangeably.

Allistaire is a dormant "spirit" (not truly dead but his body is no longer) that lies within the Renascence thus also inside Chris, that Chris is unaware even exists until towards the end of Skin and Teeth. I would also like to state how Allistaire exists within Chris because the Renascence made some sort of pocket dimension for him to keep him there and protect him. The reason being; Allistaire was chosen specifically by the Renascence. (You can learn more in the #lore tag). So the Wolf saved him. This pocket dimension (thanks for the vocabulary Genshin) behaves like its own little sliver of the Zenith. You can sleep, eat, etc there like you never moved on from the "real" Zenith in the first place.

His body may not be on/of the earth anymore but he exists there as alive. That's why I use the term "spirit" loosely. By Chris' "real life" standard he's perhaps a spirit, but by Zenith's standard, he's still alive and actively thriving. He can be brought back, just like Chris was able to be which differentiates it. xxxx TOGETHER, BUT SEPARATE; When Chris is asleep is when he can see through Allistaires eyes what he's actively doing.

But because of how similar they both look Chris passes it off as peculiar dreams, speculating it's just himself. Mostly because he sees through Allistaires eyes, and only knows the similarities because of the reflections on water surfaces, etc. is why he thinks it's just himself.

This can also be done in reverse. If Chris is awake and Allistaire sleeps, Allistaire can see what he's doing. So he is very much aware of Chris. At first, it came as a surprise for him. Allistaire started getting "the sight" (as they call it, later on, to refer to it) when Chris was bitten. So he knows nearly everything he's been through. He cants say that enjoys any of it. I would feel that in the first few months to maybe a year he believed the sight would be akin to a nightmare.

He doesn't really try to contact him either because he already got the intuition that Chris would probably freak the fuck out (he's right, he would), that it was best to just let him believe it was himself in the "dreams" as to not cause him any more stress than necessary. It doesn't happen every time they sleep either. It's only when the timing is right, or the Renascence establishes a connection subconsciously. So don't worry, Chris wouldn't be creeping on Allistaire at all times or vice versa. Allistaire has also learned that if he pulls away hard enough with enough concentration he can block Chris from seeing or hearing things or pull himself away from seeing things through Chris' end. Like I said earlier, Allistaire doesn't really care too much to see every gory detail *budumssttts*.

Even though he doesn't contact him in an outright way and avoids doing so, I can say perhaps he creates somewhat of a play while knowing Chris thinks he's dreaming to give him insight on what he thinks Chris should do-- or aid in his favorite way: Translations. As most of us know, Chris has The Book Of Wonders, essentially a very old Wolvish grimoire that has been in the Cinder family for centuries that is mostly in Old English and Wolvish writing. Chris never actively learned how to read Wolvish (Until when Cinder comes around again) but is drawn to the book anyways because of the ties it has to the Renascence and Allistaire. The spells, the language, and general magic the book holds itself. Allistaire more than often would give an exception to the rule he made of "no contact" to give brief translations. Mostly by him playing as Chris in the "dream" reading in Wolvish but speaking what it says out loud. It's up to Chris to remember the way the lettering looks to correspond to different words. Allistaire has gathered that he's a very intelligent individual, so he has faith that Chris would be smart enough to remember if not all, most, translations. ❅ TOGETHER, AT LAST; When everything is said and done, Chris in the end was also favored and protected by the Renascence-- thus putting him in the same place as Allistaire at long last. News flash, he doesn't take it well at all. In the end, Chris becomes resentful and angry with how everything went. Hopeless and defeated because even though he tried everything and still had much to do (with his friends being in trouble with T.K.E.A and all) it was seemingly all for nothing. When he discovers Allistaire was not him but yet a separate individual he somewhat lashes out. First is fear because this man knew everything and had seen everything. It was an invasion of his privacy which he coveted so dearly. Even though Christian was not a stranger to Allistaire, Allistaire was still very much a stranger to Chris. Even in the moments The Sight was active, Allistaire hid his true self away. The second is confusion and generally freaked-out feelings due to him looking so starting similar to him. I mean who wouldn't be freaked? Even being a twin didn't really help Chris' case in calming down about it. The third is just a belief that Allistaire had something directly to do with Chris being chosen to bare the Renascence. Although it may be true, it isn't Allistaires fault. The Wolf just seems to favor them on its own accord, though Chris doesn't understand it at the time. What strengthens this belief is; during the end of it, Chris' body begins to show even more similarities to Allistaire's that wasn't there before. For example, Chris' hands begin to blacken starting at the fingertips and he begins to wear gloves to cover it. Exactly like Allistaires hands, which were damaged from using the Renascence's magic to open the portal all those years ago. This happens because Allistaire was giving him his own strength to hold out for longer in the living Earth realm, which ended up melding him to Chris' body in a way. It had even made him weak in the pocket dimension to do this for him, but despite this he still did it. He understood Chris had more to do. Chris, again, hindered by awful feelings and distrust takes it the wrong way. It's all a big misunderstanding. He saw it as Allistaire deliberately interfering with him. To put it simply at this point in the plot, he does not like Allistaire, while Allistaire cares for and wants to help him still. They spend the whole duration of that time together, just them in that pocket dimension until things get out of hand in the "living" realm again.

[supercreig]

How could Gregory remain so calm in a situation where so many people are after him to kill him?! Craig should be asking himself that too though. Gregory was fearless, or so Craig thought. Maybe that's how he's been remaining calm. Gregory also has Christophe on some kind of search for where the leader for these hitmans has been hiding to Craig's knowledge. Although Craig has been known to have that stoic expression to where no one knows what he could be thinking, over the years he's grown to be more open with himself and accept his flaws, and he's been smiling a lot more eversince becoming friends with Tolkien, Jimmy, Clyde, and Tweek before the two became a couple. Some have tried to make a fool of Craig since growing soft.

Was it so bad for Craig to have grown soft? What worried him most was losing the people he loved since growing so soft.

He couldn't care less on how cold it was outside. He only came here to check up on Gregory and make sure that no one was around to try to assassinate him. But... perhaps Gregory deserved to know what was really going on with himself. Would he just laugh if Craig told him about that horrendous nightmare he just had? Craig was always such a skeptic about those, but this was different for him and he couldn't tell when Gregory could possibly die. It could be now or later. He wish he could tell.

Craig refused to let go of his friend. He clearly remembered in that nightmare he had that Gregory's body had only grown colder and colder, soon becoming a mere fresh corpse.

This wasn't a dream or a nightmare though. Gregory was here in front of him and looked to be well aside from maybe lack of sleep. But he is here. His body was warm and only grew warmer the more Craig held onto him. The warmth had started to make him feel at ease, eventually calming him down a little, though tears still came running down a bit.

"Sorry. You're here still. That's all that matters." For a little longer he held onto his friend while trembling and crying on his shoulder. Soon he finally lets go of his friend, wiping is own tears off. He was still trembling a bit mostly out of fear and anxiety than the cold itself however.

"D-Do you mind i-if I come in?" If Gregory allowed him into his house, Crag could try to explain what exactly he made him come all the way here so late at night. Would it be worth telling him though? Afterall he really came over here all because of a stupid nightmare. But... wat if that nightmare were to come true?

Craig doesn't make eye contact with the blond man as he was still in a bit of a fragile state from shedding tears and being so worried about his friend. A state that he felt ashamed of as he was raised with the idea of showing sorrow like this would only be such a burden and that he was weak. Although eversince his parents have become more open-minded, Craig would like to believe that he has gotten better with opening up a bit and not putting on that usual stoic expression of his that he was known for. However he still tries not to let his own burdens get ahold of him, also not wanting to drag others into his own issues.

What a nuisance that man in the blue beanie is. Maybe they should just kill him first and see if that would bring Gregory to their leader. Just how dear could this man be to the target? Now could be a good time to get rid of the man in front of Gregory first... The sooner the better. Or maybe they'll just let this all play out first.

There are things that he isn't used to.

Being pulled into a hug is definitely one of them.

Not that Gregory was averse to them. It was just... he rarely had the opportunity to engage in them. Mole wasn't exactly the physical sort and expecting anything close to warm affection from his parents was a laughable pipe dream. But the blond doesn't do anything when he's grabbed and pulled into Craig's arms, aside from blink rather stupidly.

"Oh, uh... Hey..."

Recovering, he brings a hand up to pat the other boy on the back while the other arm is busy returning the hug. He's surprised that he can feel tears against his shoulder, actually soaking the robe a little bit. Crying? Craig was crying??

"Craig, I'll be okay... I'm being as cautious as I can, you know..."

Mostly because Mole had threatened him with violence if he put himself in reckless danger (again). It was one thing when doing their normal work but this? This was a lot worse.

He just hopes he can calm Craig down. Maybe coax him inside for a bit. It was cold out, as usual.

[igotanidea]

Counterparts: Morpheus x OC Chapter 5

Summary: Kayleen was born to be the embodiment of Reality. Protector of the Waking World and Keeper of the Order. Naturally, that makes her a counterpart of the Dream of The Endless. Despite their differences in both approach to life and characters they are forced to work together to keep balance between Dreaming and Waking. Thank God, they are both professionals who DO NOT fight or engage emotionally….. Or do they?

World count: 2.669

Prologue

Chapter 1: sometimes reality sucks

Chapter 2 : Welcome back to reality

Chapter 3 : A rough nightmare

Chapter 4: Crumbling

Chapter 5

Falling to pieces.

10 years later.

It’s been a decade since Dream’s disappearance. For the couple of years I tried to find him, to make some contact with him, but all of it was futile. So I stopped trying, my pride screaming at me not to make a fool out of myself. I hate to say I gave up, but I know exactly when someone wants nothing to do with you. It’s like Destruction leaving all over again. And that memory still hurts. Feeling left out, like you mean nothing to the other one.

For the last decade I’ve been jumping back and forth between Dreaming and Waking only trying my best to uplift both of the Realms. After all, I have friends on the other side, and since I have some power in me I could try to help them at least a bit. Besides, Dreaming falling to pieces have more impact on Reality than I would like to admit. It’s exhausting. I mean, my powers only work so far. It feels weird and not right to step in the domain which was not meant for me and it definitely affect my health and well - being. It’s only been 10 years. Who knows how much long I can keep it all afloat and how longer I will be forced to…..

At the same time, I try to keep up my job, being a mentor to my students and coming up with creative ideas to get their attention to writing. I mean, there are so many creative prompts considering the circumstances of people not able to sleep hence no one to watch over this part of their existence.

20 years later

Some of the residents of the Dreaming left the Realm. It pains me, watching it all crumble, but I can do nothing to stop them. It’s like they are starting to believe that Morpheus really did abandon them. I mean, I don’t blame them. Dreams are fading and Nightmares are becoming more predatory. I’m so tired of it. Tending to Waking during the day and Dreaming at night, trying my best to keep the most cruel of Morpheus’s creations at bay. Meanwhile Corinthian freed himself and broke a literal hell on Earth. It seems like he started some cult of him, people all over the World copycatting his actions. This is really bad. For the past 5 years I was able to limit the members of this sect, showing them how much pain and despair they bring, but that’s still not enough. Despair is having the best time ever, I can tell. Death though, wasn’t delighted with the amount of work that was piled up upon her.

Flashback

- I’m sorry Death - I said with so much remorse in my voice. Despite all of the work we both have now, we were able to get together. If you can call it like that. It was more of a running around collecting souls which died of exhaustion and sleep deprivation (Death) and trying to manipulate the Reality to minimize the impact (me). We’re like a damage control team.

- What on Earth are you talking about?

- All of those people dying, being hurt.... This havoc that has been caused since.....

- Stop it. You stop it now, you hear me - she haltered her walk, took my hands, and looked me straight in the eyes - none of this – she waved her hand around - NONE of this, is your fault.

- Then whose? - I say silently.

- You know, you truly are a peculiar human being. Even after all this time you don’t blame Dream for what happened?

- Death.... you were the one who told me what truly occurred to him.

- You mean that he was captured?

- More or less. – I shrugged but even with my sarcastic attitude I can’t quite hide how stressed I am because of it all.

Some time ago Death reached out to me and revealed that Dream was captured by some crazy-shit-ass amateur magus Roderick Burgess. Location? London. She explained she owed me that much as my friend. She was worried of me getting drained of the amount of work I was dealing with. Obviously, the first thought that came to my mind was to rescue him immediately. If not for his or mine sake than for the benefit of Dreaming and Reality. I started masterminding the plan of getting into the Burgess mansion and it was perfect. Until it came to its execution. I suppose it is enough to say that Roderick’s home was not exactly immortals-friendly. The moment I stepped foot inside I started to wince in pain. Apparently the magus used some crazy spells to protect himself from unwanted visitors. What chances does Reality have against magic? I mean, I have some skills, but I’m no witch. I felt utterly defeated, my head spinning and my whole body aching. Brain on fire since I could easily feel Morpheus’s presence somewhere in the house. “I’m sorry, Dream” – I sent him a silent message. “I’m so, so sorry”.  I knew he felt me too and get that. It’s terrible to feel so helpless. Ever since then I put twice as much effort into all my work. Shame it didn’t give twice as much of a good result.  I just wondered why none of his siblings came to his aid, but when I reached Destiny, he just shook it off and said that the Endless do not mess with each other’ s domain.  Wonderful family, truly. So…. supportive.

- Even though, you could claim that you told him to be careful when he went to catch that Nightmare. Corinthian, was that his name? Hell, you even offered to go and help him but he was just too proud to accept that.

I looked down at the ground without a single word. She’s right obviously and he was a stubborn ass,  but on the other hand there is a bit of guilt inside me. I was also the one who forced him to go out to get Corinthian. I was the one who was not able to free him from his cage. I couldn’t deal with some amateur magus using circus tricks on one of the Endless. Shit, I was the one not able to stand up to Destiny when he held me back from taking any further action against Roderick Burgess. I was the one not capable of keeping Dreaming intact.

-Stop spinning Kayleen. You did more than you could have. And for that my brother should be eternally grateful.

-Oh, right. Grateful is just a natural state for him. Can you imagine his reaction knowing that I meddled with the Dreaming affairs? Highway to hell for me, for sure.

-What is it with you, Dream and Hell? Is that some inside joke? Besides, don’t worry about that. I’m going to take you for myself before Lucifer lay a hand on you. No hellfire for you, my dear - she hugged me. - I got to go now, but I hope to see you again, soon. And please, take care of yourself, ok?

-I was always a bit of a workaholic you know? This situation just take it to the extreme – I sighed knowing well enough I won’t keep that promise.

30 years later

Most of the nightmares are gone from the Dreaming. The only dreams left are those who are the most loyal, like Fiddler’s Green. The only place that gives me a little bit of breath and perspective when I visit. A brief moment to catch a breath before mending to another fire. I befriended Cain and Abel who, besides Lucienne still believe that Morpheus is going to come back. Their hope is really admirable, but I have no time nor energy to focus on that. Seems like I’m in some robot mode when I just keep doing without thinking.

Meanwhile, in the Waking World, people has been suffering from coma, not able to wake up. Oh, irony. First, they couldn’t sleep now they cannot get back from dreams. The newspapers even came up with some catchy title for that…..

60 years later.

I’m so tired......

The nightmares now started to invade my sleep. Some crazy kind of retaliation on me, deriving from the times when I tried to keep them in check. So for quite some time I haven’t really been sleeping. The worst part? They pray on my real fears and terrors so I can’t even convince myself that this is not the truth. If nothing else, I know how to spot reality

Thankfully, though I don’t know how, I’m still capable of working as lecturer. My students and classes are probably the only thing that keeps me sane. Recently, we got a visit from this popular author – Richard Madock. My students seemed to be captured by his works, so I decided it would be nice to organize a meeting. It’s surprising how this guy sort of came out of nowhere. Even though he acts professionally, when I first saw him I just get this kind of vibes that made me cautious. There’s something about his creativity and versatility of his works. He’s hiding something, I know it. His words about “strong female characters in fiction” and how much of a supporter of women rights he is just does not match his eyes, his posture, his …. everything. I can sense something fake in his entire vibe. Wish I had enough power to get to the bottom of it.

96 years later

Physically I haven’t aged a day but my general condition really indicates the passing of past 96 years. I hide it under some simple illusion, but it gives me a lot of self-consciousness and anxiety. I guess I might be developing some body issues. Besides, some people (?) can see right through me. Like some fellow librarian.

- You can’t keep doing that - I heard Lucienne’s footsteps as she approached the table I laid my head on for a couple minutes. It was my “Dreaming duty” time and I was trying to find some peace in the Library. We only had a couple books left since at some point the stories started to disappear.

- I’m sorry Lucienne, I just need a second to reposition myself. What part of the castle shall I try to uplift now? – I can’t stop the  yawn and find it hard to keep my eyes open. - Has some dream been unusually terrible? Or another nightmare running loose? Is it about Cain or Abel or Gregory? I can tend to that - I stand up, but get dizzy and fall back down, not hitting the floor only thanks to Lucienne catching me.

- That is not what I meant, at all, Kayleen - she make me sit down on the chair as she shakes her head in disapproval. – you can’t keep trying to tend to both Realms. It’s killing you, All those spacial jumping, stress, lack of sleep. It was never your duty. You are still human, remember?

- Immortal human – I point out - I can’t get killed, even by myself, you know. But I suppose I forgot about that part of myself  after a couple of decades of work. Full workaholic at my best. There’s really no time to think about that.

- Kay… - Lucienne said gently - you need to get back to Waking. You need to stay there for good. There’s nothing more you can do here. Trust me.

- I can’t do that. – I shake my head. - I can’t watch Reality crumble and knowing that the same is happening to the Dreaming. I can’t leave you and the guys alone.

- You just won’t take no for an answer, would you?

- No…. - I smile weakly, still a bit lightheaded.

- You are way too stubborn for your own good. If you won’t let it go I will have to resort to some more drastic measures.

- You wouldn’t do that. - I looked at her with - hate to admit it - fear and disbelief in my eyes .

- It’s for your own good. You still be able to communicate with me through the Ravens. I can assign one specifically to you if you wish. Mathew is the new one and has been very eager to meet you.

- Ok - I say. I hate to surrender, but deep down I know she’s right. Besides, it’s better to leave on my own and keeping this little connection than being banished by Lucienne and losing it all. - but please, contact me as often as you can. I don’t.... I don’t want to be left alone. – with all my mortal friends and acquaintances in the waking gone it won’t be easy to keep going.

- Of course Kay. I could never forget about you - she looks at me with sadness in her eyes.

105 years later

Leaving Dreaming wasn’t much of a help. But – one good thing came out of it. I meet someone who might be special to me in upcoming future. At this point I didn’t even care that he was mortal. I was just in desperate need of company so….

Tom joined the faculty a year ago as a  law teacher. He may seems serious and intense but deep down he’s a joking nerd. Just open up to the limited amount of people who know how to …. make him show his true colors.  And yes, that’s me. I really like this side of his. He tells the best jokes and is always optimistic. Such a reverse to my last male companion. I really like him and who knows what might happen if this keeps on….

So, in general, I let go a bit and a lot of things fell back into their places. Obviously, I still get pain and headaches when Corinthian or some other nightmares mess with Reality but at this point I can handle that. Just doing what I can without pushing too hard. Matthew, the raven, has been the best company I could ask for. Always ready for a pep talk, to help me ground myself and stop me from doing something reckless. He also loves talking but I don’t really mind.

106 years later

I was in the middle of my afternoon class when I fainted. Ok, maybe not exactly fainted. It was more like this feeling of losing consciousness for a couple minutes but when I blinked nothing has really changed. So is it official? Did my sanity finally snap? Wouldn’t be surprising after more than a century. Or maybe…. Maybe things are getting back to normal? As fast as I can I finish the class, getting some disappointing looks from attendants ( it’s still uplifting that I can keep their interests to the extend where they want to go to class instead of skipping them). I need to check what’s happening.

-Matthew. – I say turning around looking for my favorite raven.  – Where are you?

-I’m here, Kay – the bird flies from the sky and land on the nearest tree branch.

-Not here – I whisper – someone may hear us – can’t risk my reputation as a stable person by being seen talking to a bird – I grin – no offence, Matthew.

-None taken.

-Did you feel something strange, too? In the dreaming? Or maybe you were there? I need some information, can you check on Lucienne and let me know?

-Sure thing, Brainy – he gave me that nickname after a couple of lectures he “attended” watching over me. - I’ll be there and back in a minute.

-Just be careful, ok? – I say and I shake at the memory of what happened last time I used those words towards someone else.

-I always am. – with that word he flies away leaving me hanging and thirsty for some answers.

next: chapter 6

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