#the dreams still haunt you

[justgayskissinggays]

I'm obsessed with Somnum. I'm sooooo normal about him. I am so normal about this man who was literally just a test subject. Another mindless cog in this wheel. You are just a kid. But it doesnt matter. They poke and prod you with things you don't understand. You know you're in pain, you know something is wrong but there is nothing you can do.

You are cursed. Cursed to be consumed by things you don't understand. Everyday it's harder to stay awake. Dreams whisper in your ears lies and promises and truths and lick you with their fickle tongues. A meal. They are starving. You almost feel bad, if you weren't there food. You are in so much pain. You can't stay awake. You are fighting for it, fighting to be alive.

Then theres a light; you're being given away. Labelled a failure and a useless project and yet you are wanted by something. You learn what family is and its not really the best family but its something you can be loyal to. But you are the runt of the litter; skilled but unable to use it. Everyday sleep comes easier and waking is harder. Everyday something new is ripping you apart. The dreams have eaten your lungs. They have started on your muscles; your stomach. They creep under your skin to consume every waking inch of you.

You get the news, you will die in two years. They will eat you body heart and soul and you will be nothing. Your parents tell you that they can only keep you comfortable. They look at you with pity, you are no longer what they believed. Your parents who adopted to avoid having a child like you. But you were always destined to this, from the moment you were born. Destined to be eaten by dreams. Destined to die. Destined to lose yourself to the surreal. Your family adopted kids to avoid watching one die. You are a disappointment and pitiful.

You are the runt of the litter. Always the weak one, everyday you try to stay awake just a little longer and you fail. You desperately try to keep your grip on reality, to not become distorted by the dreams consuming you. But its only getting later, and one day it'll be to late. They will eat you, they will devour you. They are starving. They will never find a meal as delectable as you for another century. Your eyes are going. Your fingers are going. Your feet are going. Devoured by things that aren't real, and soon you won't be too.

[bugflies00]

everyone on this app yaps about bad media being better for fandoms but dsmp’s untapped and forever unexplored or poorly explored potential and general themes of attachment, grief and childhood and the fact that so much of it was accidental or improvised and the tight knit community that fell apart in less than two years makes it, in my humble and objective opinion, the single most haunting fandom i’ve ever been in. if you even care. clings to everyone like cobwebs i mean just look at all the sleeper agents and old urls that are posting about tonight lol YOU CAN’T ESCAPE

[lovereadandwrite]

“I shall protect you, & you alone… even if…you stand as the last person on this earth”

[boygirlctommy]

remember how ghostbur kept falling into the lmanberg crater, because he forgot that doomsday had happened? it was a bad memory so he refused to look it in the eye, but the reality of it was still there and still hurting him, over and over again. if he'd been able to face what had happened, he could have figured out how to deal with it, found a way to safely cross the crater. but cuts and scrapes and respawns were less painful than acknowledging it. so he kept on falling.

[brocedestruther]

My mother doesn't hug me. she doesn't know what to do with me.

my father has the kind of anger all fathers do; loud and terrible. it lingers for your whole life.

you robbed me of my life. i could’ve been human, i could've been alive, but you took my heart and you murdered it. you made me into this.

the blood on my face didn't make me brave, it only made me hurt. i was full of rage and he didn't ask why. he didn't even notice.

i have a very childlike rage, a childlike loneliness.

You are allowed to grieve over the child you could've been.

[mmmairon]

Why not enjoy the view together?

[fishareglorious]

i do a light chuckle once i remember hofmann and semmelweis are friends but then i remember semmelweis and marcus' suitcase interaction where they talk about her and i am once again inconsolable about this old woman's death

[windsweptinred]

An AU idea that just won't leave me be Hob defying 'death' to bring Dream back.

If Hob and Dream had just found each other, were in the beginnings of a loving relationship, a real chance at happiness. Would Hob truly accept Dream's death? Would he mourn? Or would he fight it? Hob's just the right side of selfish, just that touch too resolved. Would a man who dismissed death lay down to the whims of fate... Or battle againt it? Even if that means returning something to the universe that's no longer meant to be there. Could reality function with two Dreams? Would he be willing to risk that to right what he saw as an unjust death? And most importantly, what would an 'un' dead Endless be?

[issylra]

Chapters: 7/7 Rating: Teen Word Count: ~2,000 Ship(s): Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Hob Gadling Additional Tags: Slice of Life, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, POV Alternating, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Domestic Fluff, Touch-Starved Dream of the Endless, Mutual Pining, Cuddling & Snuggling

There's so many things Hob wants to ask, most of them starting with "why" and then trailing off into wordless nonsense while his brain fights the urge to short circuit. It's all he's wanted, to offer Dream comfort. To know he's succeeded so thoroughly, that Dream felt the urge to replicate his bed down to the silk sheets and the creaky headboard? Well, Hob can't help feeling a surge of pride. "Next time just come over," Hob says, because he's suddenly and foolishly brave. "Bed's always open."

[AO3]

[doodlingwren]

If only the original Saint Seiya anime was a 2014-2018 anime series instead of being aired in the 80s-90s, I can only imagine the sheer amount of animation memes that could have been done. Some of the characters are just so perfect for those, like, if this was a more animation-oriented fandom this would totally be a thing.

[iheartjameshetfield]

BOO!!!

[johnnysuhbmarine]

Me and the urge to put “you’ll always find your way back home (ncity)” as my caption on insta for my Dream concert pics

[voidcat]

Okay wait hear me out-

A fungal type kaiju that releases its spores upon death but on humans it has a sex-pollen like effect

[krossota]

[pgr oc]

träumerei

[hairmetal666]

Little WIP Wednesday for the You Will Still Haunt Me Saturday chapter drop 👀

“And you can control dreams,” Steve says. It’s not a question.

Eddie smiles, fangs on full display. “And that.”

“How does it work?”

“I—uh, don’t really know. It’s, uhm. Pretty weird. I can sort of project my—my consciousness, I guess?”

“Just with me?” He has to ignore the way that makes his heartbeat harder.

Eddie laughs, gives him a look that says he knows exactly what Steve’s thinking. “Mostly just with you. I’ve practiced with other people before. To see what I could do. Not to scare people, or anything, just passing time.”

“Why is it different with me?”

“Fishing for compliments, Stevie?” 

“No!” Steve laughs. “I’m curious.” 

“You think about me a lot, you know?” 

Steve flushes, watches it spread on his naked chest and up his neck. “I—you—it’s—”

“Don’t be embarrassed, big boy,” Eddie purrs. “My theory is that it made it easier for me to visit you. Like, you were calling me, or something. It took a while for me to get strong enough to do this.” He gestures to where their legs touch on the mattress. “Buckley thinks of me. Those kids of yours, too. But I probably couldn’t do more than make an impression on their subconscious.” 

“So, you’re saying I invited you to stalk my dreams.”

“I wasn’t going to use those words, but yeah, basically.” 

Steve covers his face with his hands, trapped between being grateful that his obsession gave him Eddie back, and ashamed for how far gone he is, how he could’ve died chasing the boy he lost half a decade ago. 

“Do you want to get out?” Steve asks

“What?”

“You heard me. Do you want to get out? If we can—”

“There is not a single thing you can do.”

 “Of course there is. We almost brought you back once, opened the portal and everything, we can do it again.” 

Eddie rears back at Steve’s words, horror written in shadow across his face. “Absolutely not, Harrington. No.”

[jaegerisim]

This scene will forever not make me cackle, snort, laugh, giggle, kick my feet, flap my arms, wave my hands, shake my head, roll on the floor, throw something a the screen, scream, shout, yell, snort, scoff, stim, cry, bark, make a hole on the wall, bang my head against the nearest solid object, subject my mind to memory erasing and laugh.