#waking up being terrified and then the one he had a nightmare about is lying right next to him

[cryptidofthekeys]

me, vibing and just thinking of my fave silly lil fictional men:

also me not even a beat later: What if you gave CC the lucid nightmare you had

[vixstarria]

Confession, Astarion POV 

This is the fluffiest thing I have ever written (or, most likely, will ever write). Consider yourself warned. Linked with my Astarion’s romance with bard Tav series, but very much a standalone as well. 

Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV 

Comfort, fluff, love confession, cuddling, banter, angst, non-explicit, no spoilers, tooth-rotting sweetness (after the first few paragraphs anyway)

Approximately 1,000 words 

AO3

You were back in the dungeons. Darkness. Filth. The dreaded cold and the stench of old blood. He was there, as were your ‘siblings’. And so was she... 

She writhed on the ground in agony. And you were useless. You couldn’t move a muscle, having been ordered to stay still, your body refusing to obey your will - all you could do was watch the horrible things that were being done to her. The only thing that could possibly make this worse, was if you could move, because you would only move as a puppet, obeying his commands.  

“Fetch the pliers, Astarion.” 

A terrible howl tore from the depths of your chest. 

“Astarion... Wake up... It’s only a dream. It’s not real.” a hand was shaking you awake, and you opened your eyes to see her lying next to you, concern written on her face. Unharmed. In your tent.  

Breaking free of the sleep paralysis was like trying to move with the weight of the ocean on you. Once you finally escaped it, you grabbed her, wrapping her in a bear hug and clutching her against your chest, and wordlessly rocked her, kissing her forehead, as though she was the one who needed comforting.  

She must have guessed what your dream involved.  

“I’m okay... I’m with you, my sweet.” she nuzzled into you, stroking your back.  

“You were...” you couldn’t say it. “...Gods, that was the worst one yet. I couldn’t do anything.” You held her tighter. 

“It’s not real. I know you’ll keep me safe... You always do...” she murmured into your neck. 

If your heart could do anything but sit as dead weight in your chest, it would have melted.  

Once you’d calmed and your breathing was back to normal, she lifted her head and planted a soft kiss on your lips.  

“Awfully sentimental of you to be having nightmares about losing me.” 

Back to laughing about everything... 

At that moment you knew you’d finally had enough. You’d had enough of being coy and putting on a display of nonchalance, you’d had enough of turning everything into a joke, you’d had enough games, enough pretending. You said you wanted something real with her, and you meant it.  

“I love you,” you whispered. 

And just like that, it was out, and you lost all care about any self-restraint.  

She grew still, and you slipped your hand gently over her mouth, just firmly enough to let her know you didn’t want her to say anything just yet, and rolled on top of her, tracing her face with kisses, repeating it over and over again in between, like a manic mantra.  

“I love you... I love you...” 

Tears sprang from her eyes, and you kissed them away, as your own tears fell onto her face, still repeating those words.  

You wanted to live in this moment, for it to never end. If there was even the slightest chance that the next words out of her mouth were anything but reciprocation, you didn’t want to know yet. You couldn’t. You didn’t think you would survive it. 

But you could tell she was smiling, and kissing your palm, and still you continued, kissing your way down her face, until you landed a kiss just at the corner of her mouth, whispering a final “Love you... so much” before removing your hand and catching her lips with yours, still not letting her say anything.  

She returned your kiss, letting out the softest whimper, and she was clinging on to you in a tight embrace, so tight you could feel her heart like it was your own, beating wildly, and you knew, of course you knew, but you were still terrified, until... 

“I love you too, Astarion,” she finally managed, breathlessly. 

Your whole body shuddered in a sob. More than two hundred years... More than two centuries since you’d last heard those words in earnest.  

“I love you too... Should I say it twenty more times as well?” she was beaming, her eyes still wet. Gods, had she ever looked as happy and beautiful as in this moment?  

You breathed a chuckle, trying to recompose yourself.  

“Would you? Please..?” 

You lost all track of time, as you laid in each other’s arms, legs tangled, kissing, whispering and giggling like lovesick teenagers. Nothing had changed, really, yet somehow at the same time everything had. You knew it was silly, but were too happy to care.  

“When did it start for you?” you asked, linking your fingers through hers.  

“Do you remember that time near the risen road, when a bandit got close enough to have his knife at my throat?” 

“You were hopeless in battle then, darling,” you nodded. 

“...Thanks. Anyway, I thought I was done for. And then next thing I knew, you were on him, tearing out his throat with your bare teeth, spraying us both with blood.”  

“I got disarmed and couldn’t get to my weapon fast enough, it was the only thing I could think of doing,” you admitted. 

“And then you stared at me with that smirk of yours, licking the blood off your hand.” 

“And you, instead of vomiting or threatening to stake me like Gale and Shadowheart, just stared back, looking impressed, and thanked me,” you chuckled. 

“Yes, that was definitely the moment something stirred in me.” 

“You asked if I wanted to help clean you up as well, you absolute freak,” you broke into a full laugh. 

“I was joking,” she huffed. “...I think.” 

“I know... But that was when I knew something was wrong with you in a way that I found absolutely delightful.” 

More time passed. 

You were still lying in an embrace and looking into each other’s eyes, whispering, when you started to hear movement in camp. You didn’t know how you were going to get through the day, it was as though everything but what you held in your arms had lost all meaning and importance. 

“My Astarion... My sweet elf...” she murmured, running her fingers softly through your hair. 

This is what you were to her. Not a vampire, not a killer, not an instrument or means to an end, or a personification of some deranged fantasy. But something so... unsullied. You couldn’t possibly even begin to conceive how that could be, and yet... 

“My sunlight,” you whispered back. 

~~~~~

Next in series - The morning after

Series master list

AO3

[celestiamour]

ft. logan howlett x f! reader x wade wilson — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ logan walking in on you performing rituals on wade┊0.7k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: stereotypical depictions of rituals (don’t like, don't read), establish poly relationship, canon-typical blood, age gap

➤ author's note: i have so many random ass thoughts about dating these two

it started with him hearing the sound of a match being struck before the light scent of smoke wafted into his room, making him stir in his drowsy state. it’s not uncommon for candles to be lit at night, but it was a bit strange that these had no fragrance at all when both of you loved “bath and body works” ones with an overwhelming amount of perfume in them. he paid it no mind, rolling over and trying to get some sleep, knowing that he was too old to be up so late past midnight and that both of you should join him in a bit.

he then awoke with a start an hour later when he heard ceramic shattering and was met with the sharp scent of spilled blood, realizing neither of you were in bed with him, and jumped out of bed automatically assuming the worst. adrenaline pumped through his veins and his heart was beating so fast he wondered if it would implode, terrified that his worst nightmare of being under attack was coming true.

“what the fuck??” he guesses that the scene unfolding in front of him was better than a break-in, but it was still the most bizarrely unexpected thing he’s walked in on (which is saying a lot).

“oh, sorry for waking you up! i wasn’t being careful enough… i was moving the table and knocked over the vase,” you chuckled. 

“what… what on earth are you two doing?”

all of the living room furniture placed earlier in the day was shifted to make space in the center, the original carpet haphazardly rolled up in the corner was replaced by wade lying down on the floor, a crimson red pentagram painted around his body with symbols he didn’t understand scrawled everywhere and flickering candles set up at every corner illuminating the circle.

“well, uh… we just moved here so i was just checking to see if there were any lingering spirits or demonic entities! you know, how my mutation is contacting the supernatural… i do this every time i move…” you scratched your head, realizing how bad it sounded and looked even with the explanation. “i guess i should have told you what i had planned for tonight, sorry!”

logan knelt down to examine the substance, carefully wiping the edge of one of the lines with his thumb and immediately recognizing it as blood from the color and iron smell. being mutants with regenerative powers, injuries normally fatal to humans are regarded as nothing more than papercuts, yet the willingness wade had to donate his blood to this cause was still shocking. “and you just went along with it??”

“i will never deny a beautiful woman anything she wants, even if it’s my blood!” he declared with a thumbs up and a stupid lovesick grin on his scarred face. he probably thought the entire thing was pretty hot or something, which is so typical of him, maybe it wasn’t as much of a shock as he initially thought. “one-hundred percent safe, sane, and consensual!”

it clearly wasn’t the first two things, but whatever floats his boat since, again, you guys are mutants?

“aww, babe!” you placed a kiss on his forehead, making him giggle like he wasn’t being sacrificed at the moment. 

“just… be careful not to burn the place down…” at least no one was seriously hurt… things like this were going to be a regular occurrence with either of you being the instigator, he could feel it in his adamantium-covered bones, and he’s too old to try and wrestle with his lovers about what they do in their free time. “i’m going back to bed..”

the next morning, he will be greeted with breakfast in bed and lots of cuddles and kisses to make up for disturbing his rest last night, which was a nice surprise at first, but it becomes a weekly thing because you and wade are like children who simply can’t stay out of trouble and need to constantly apologize to him over it. truth be told, as grumpy as he may look, he isn’t complaining about the amount of affection he’s bombarded with during the day, especially because it’s funny to watch the two of you looking at him with big puppy eyes hoping he’ll forever you for accidentally blowing up a neighboring building or something.

[lunajay33]

Lost

•🗝️🕊️🩶•

Summary: Carl Grimes was your best friend since birth, when he died the world turns grey, he was your partner in crime so you shut yourself off from the world, no one could get through, until one day you’re wondering Alexandria seeing Negan in his cell, maybe he could be the one to break you out of this hell

Pairing: Negan Smith x f!reader

Content: Age gap, Depressing themes, Consoling, Spicy themes later on, breeding kink, character development

•Masterlist•

I’ve been working around Hilltop helping out Maggie with what I could just for the week, Carl convinced me to come even though I really wanted to stay with in back in Alexandria, I just have this gut feeling for some reason, I work on cleaning up the garden thinking about the memories Carl and I shared, the first day of kindergarten when we were terrified of meeting other kids but he assured me he wouldn’t leave my side, or in grade 3 when boys would pick on me and he’d come to my rescue just like I did for him, then the world went to hell and everything happened so fast, I was out at the park with my parents, Carl and his mom and uncle Shane when crowds of walkers entered the park, screams erupted and blood went everywhere, Carl grabbed my hand and brought me back to his mom and Shane, I looked for my parents seeing them limp and covered in blood on the ground, I couldn’t mover until Carl snapped me out of it, Shane got us out of town, from then on Carl and I made sure to be eachothers safety net, partner in crime

We looked out for eachother after the farm fell, cuddling together on the road during cold nights, bunking together when we found the prison, I cared for him when his mother passed and did everything I could to help out with Judith, then the prison fell and I thought I’d never see him again, I found Carol, Tyrese and Judith on the road after a few days of being alone, everything happened at terminus and when I came out of the cabin and saw him again everything felt whole again like I had been missing a piece of me, on the road he kept me sane and grounded and I loved him for everything he’s given me, he’s my best friend, my brother even and no matter what this crazy screwed up world threw at us, we are there for eachother to support and love and comfort

I’m broken out of my thoughts when Maggie crouches beside me, plucking some berries that have ripened

“What’re you thinking about sweetie?” She asked nudging my arm

“Just all the moments I’ve shared with Carl, I guess I’ve just been feeling nostalgic today” I hear the gates open behind us, I turn excited to see if it might be Carl, he said he’d come pick me up at the end of this week here at Hilltop

I rush over to see Daryl enter first on his bike, I keep searching looking around for any sign of Carl, I look at Daryl confused when I find no sign of him

“Daryl, where’s Carl? He said he’d come”

He got off his bike clutching the strap of his crossbow, what he usually did when he was anxious

“Daryl?” My stomach feel sick somethings happened

“He tried…..tried to save some guy, nobody knew, not until he got worse” he grumbled out

“What…..what do you mean he got worse? Daryl? Daryl please tell me he didn’t……” I could feel my throat tighten my chest aches

“He got bit, he’s gone kid, I’m so sorry” he pulled me into his chest when I felt my knees weaken

I don’t know what to do, this pain is all consuming, that part of me that felt whole and complete with him just got ripped away in seconds, I feel so hollow and angry

“No no no no, he can’t be gone, please Daryl say you’re lying, just say this is a nightmare and I just need to wake up” I scream pushing back but seeing that defeated look on his face made it all real, he’s really gone, my best friend is dead

The drive on the back of Daryl’s motorcycle on the way back to Alexandria passed in a blur, there was no thoughts except Carl, nothing else just him and the way I loved him and the way he loved me, and I hate that I have to think “loved” and not “love” everything about him will be in the past now and it hurt, it hurts so damn bad, I don’t even know how to process this

The gates of Alexandria opened and Daryl drove in parking his bike infront of our house, it was just me Daryl, Rick Michonne, Judith and…….Carl

“Come on, get ya something to eat” Daryl said guiding me up the stairs, Daryl and Maggie always felt like more than just members of the group to me, they were more involved in my life than the others, they cared and noticed when I needed something, anything, but usually Carl would be the one to help me out

We got inside nothing has changed but it feels empty and lifeless, Daryl tried to get me to eat something but I just can’t, I go into my room downstairs across from Daryl’s and change into some sweats and one of Carls hoodies he gave me, it still smells like him, I can feel the tears run down my face all over again, when others died it still hurt but this is completely different, I’ve never felt like this before

I walk upstairs past everyone and go straight to Carls room, old comic books on his nightstand, some mess clothes strung over his floor, I laid on his bed when I feel something under his pillow, pulling it out it’s a letter with my name on it, I suck in a deep breath not feeling ready yet, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to read this, I tuck it into my hoodie pocket wishing I never had to get a letter

2 months have past and it’s been complete hell, I thought it was bad when I first found out, that maybe with some time I’d be able to grieve and try and find another hope to live, that’s what everyone tried to say at least, Daryl and Maggie kept checking on me every so often, telling me about what’s been happening trying to obviously distract me, Maggie was happy that they took down the saviours but livid that Rick let Negan live who now supposedly was a prisoner in a cell somewhere in Alexandria, Daryl would sit with me in silence sometimes just his presence sometimes helped, but only for a moment until Carl entered my thoughts again

I haven’t been able to eat, only if Daryl forced me to eat but I’ve only been able to keep down a little bit at a time, an apple, some water, but that feeling of hunger just never came, and I haven’t been able to sleep right either, I stay up all night just watching the stars thinking of all the times Carl and I would star gaze, he’d point out every constellation making me feel like an idiot but it was fun……..was

I get up from Carls bed changing into a fresh hoodie scared I’ll forget his smell, I walk to the mirror noticing the deep dark circles under my eyes and how my cheeks have sunken, my eyes blood shot, the hoodie is completely baggy on me now, freshening my hair into a less ratty ponytail and left the house, it’s late at night and the only people out are the people guarding the wall

I wander around until I’m sick of walking sitting on some steps that led down to some underground basement but it feels more private than just sitting on the street, feeling the cool night air it helps calm me down a bit, I push my hands into my pocket feeling the letter, I’ve kept it with me this whole time just waiting for the moment I get enough courage to read it, it’s time

I pull it out and unfold it looking at his familiar handwriting

“Y/n, my dearest friend, my best friend, the girl I’ve loved my whole life, I’m sorry have to write this, I’m gonna miss you and everything we could’ve done, but i don’t want you to wallow because I know if I lost you I’d be a wreck so please, don’t waste your life of precious moments on thinking about me, about reminiscing on every single detail of this pain, I love you more than anything so please for me…….live, find someone who will love you, find peace in the fact that I’m somewhere watching over you, because if anyone deserves the best in this screwed up world it’s you, I’ll always be there y/n just be happy”

But I don’t know how to be happy anymore, I’m glad it’s night time because I’m crying so hard I can’t breath, I feel sick, I feel like I need Carl

“Hey, you okay?” I hiccup and wipe my tears looking down the steps to the barred whole in the bricks where Negan stood looking up at me

“Sorry, I thought I was alone” I fold back up the letter and place it back in my pocket, I know the things Negan has done, but when I first met him when he visited Alexandria I felt oddly calm around him, un like everyone else

“You look like shit honey” usually when he said remarks like that he’d laugh in the persons face but he sounded genuine, if that was possible for Negan

“Thanks”

“This about Carl?” I go stiff hating enough that it plagued my mind but when others talked about it it just makes everything worse

“I don’t know what to do, how to live without him” I say feeling my lip tremble as I lean back against the brick wall next to the stair case

“I know how you feel, lost my wife at the start, the pain doesn’t go away, you just gotta learn to live with it” this side of Negan was really shocking me

“Carl was my best friend, he was there since day 1, I don’t know how to move on, how to deal with the pain, I feel like I’m dying, I look like I’m dying…..apparently” I look at him at the last comment

“Damn, I always thought you were his girl, he was pretty protective of you”

“He always did that, another thing I’ll miss…….how did you move on, after your wife, how do I sleep again, how do I eat, how do I not wanna die and be with Carl again, how do I…..be whole again” I wrap my arms around myself as if it would fix this feeling

“Don’t stop, Carl was a good kid and if you’re anything like him he’d want you to smile again, no one can fix how you feel, you have to find a reason to live, live for his memory”

“I’m scared” I whine sitting right infront of the bars of the “window”

“Of what?”

“That I’ll forget what he sounds like, that I’ll eventually forget what he looks like”

“You’ll be okay darlin, I promise you that”

I wipe more tears letting out a little embarrassed laugh

“Prisons really changed you”

“It’s given me plenty time to think, gets boring in here”

“I can……I can come visit you sometimes if you’d like?”

“Anytime darling I’m not going anywhere soon”

“Thanks for talking to me, I know I’ve been pretty much a mess”

“You’ve always been easy talking to you, only one to not seem scared”

“You don’t scare me Negan”

“Good, now go back home, take a shower and sleep” I nod before getting up to head home, when I get through the door about to head upstairs to Carls room but stop thinking about the letter, about what Negan said, I turn to go downstairs back to my room I haven’t slept in for 2 months, I shower and change into my own clothes, and for the first time in a long time I actually was able to sleep through the night

The sun shines through my window waking me up, I groan feeling my stomach grumble, after my talk with Negan last night it actual helped a bit, maybe its because he’s not family like everyone else that’s been trying to help me but he’s given me some umph to work on myself

I freshen up before going upstairs and grab some toast to eat

“Hey kid yer up early” Daryl says as he leans against the counter across from me

“Yeah, I finally got to sleep last night” I mumble

“Well good, I’m going out on a run today ya need anything?”

“Ummm….if you come across any foundation or something my color could you pick it up?”

“Why would ya need that?” He asked obviously confused since I never wear makeup

“Never mind it’s nothing, be safe on the run” I say quickly picking up an apple and leaving the house

In all honestly after finally looking in the mirror and seeing the damage I’ve done to myself, seeing how sickly and sunken my features have become it’s gotten under my skin and made me feel a bit self conscious

I walk down the streets seeing Michonne walking towards Negan cell, I catch up with her before she gets there

“Hey”

“Hey sweetie it’s nice to see you out” we were stopped right before the stairs down to Negans cell

“Yeah I needed some air, what’re you doing?”

“My turn to watch over Negan, worst part of my day” she groaned

“Ummm I can take your watch, I’m not doing anything else”

“You sure?”

I nod feeling my social battery already dwindle from this conversation, nothing against Michonne, I love her it’s just all new again still, everything didn’t get fixed over night

“Okay but if you get sick of him come get me” she said before she left back to the direction of our house, I walk down the stairs and actual get into the basement this time, seeing him laid on his little bed in his cell, I pull a chair up closer to his cell and he finally noticed me

“Back for more darlin?” He asks sitting up

“Is it a crime to come visit you?”

“Nah, I’d rather have you sit and talk then some guard glare daggers at me all day”

“You can’t blame them but……but someone should give you a chance” I say as I keep my eyes focused on the apple I brought

“You eat today?” He asks changing the subject

“Yeah…….here I brought this for you” I say holding the apple through the cell bars

“You eat it, you need it”

“Don’t push me, I already ate and I know they probably feed you crappy food so please take it” he looked me over and it feels like my skin is on fire like there’s a thousand eyes on me

He stood up coming over to take it, his fingers graze my hands sending little shivers up my arms

“So how’d you become the “all terrifying” Negan?”

“Told you last night about my wife, after she passed I couldn’t take it I became angry at everything and took my rage out on everyone, hell I was a gym teacher before now look at me, I had everything when I ran the saviours, still hard to let go of this anger sometimes” he groaned as he bite the apple

“I understand that anger, my parents died right at the start and Carl was there for me through everything, he never left my side, I told him I’d stay here with him that I didn’t wanna leave him just even for a week but he said…..he said he’d be fine and he’d come pick me up, now I regret I couldn’t even get to see him in his last moments, just to be there to comfort him”

“Oh kid, have you spoken to anyone about this? Someone you’re more close to than a prisoner?”

“I can’t, they’re already worried enough and Maggie has her son and Daryl had the town to deal with, and I don’t know it’s easier to talk to you” I bit my lip trying to keep the tears at bay

“When does it stop hurting?” I ask looking at him for some guidance

“I don’t know darlin, might be awhile”

“I wish I could be angry, take out all this pain and turn it into rage so I could deal with it some how instead of wasting away”

“Damn hun you need some comfort from someone” I sighed looking at the keys dangling on the hook on the wall for his cell

“Will you?”

“You’re not worried about me holding you hostage so they let me out of this damn hellhole”

“Well are you going to?” I ask pushing the key into the lock waiting for his answer

“I’m not that much of a prick” I unlocked the door and entered as he patted the bed next to him, I sit next to him feeling his arm wrap around my shoulders

“Left the door open and everything” he laughed as I rest my head against his chest

“If you wanna go I won’t stop you, you did awful things but I don’t think you should be locked up like some wild animal”

“You’re too sweet for this world, probably haven’t been able to even experience anything you should have by now, what are you 20?”

“22, and no I haven’t experienced anything really, not like there was any time or opportunities”

“You didn’t even experiment with Carl even if he was your friend?”

“We had little pecks but that’s all we wanted, he’s like…….he was like my brother” I say sitting up to look at him, his hand slides from my shoulders down to my thigh

“Haven’t even tested the waters with yourself?” He asks as his voice gets deeper my heart racing

“A little but…..” his hand slid higher up my thigh

“But what darling?” His gaze was intimidating but I also can’t look away

“But I don’t know what to do” I feel extremely turned on but also really embarrassed, either way it feels better than a shell of who I am

“Tell me what you’ve tried” I go to tell him how I touch myself when the door to the basement slams open and there stands Michonne, she comes in squeezing my arm tight and drags me out of the cell locking it behind her

“Michonne you’re hurting me” I whine from her grip

“What the hell were you thinking he could’ve hurt you” she yelled, she’s never yelled at me before and it’s terrifying

“I…….he wasn’t going to hurt me” I have to look away, her gaze was intimidate too but not in the way I like, her stare makes me feel small and weak bringing me back to this empty feeling again

“You’re an idiot if you think he wouldn’t use you, let’s go” she pushes me out the door and up the stairs, I see Negan through the window, he looked almost defeated as me, but what shon in his eyes ignited a little fire in the pit of my stomach

I’m definitely coming back here to finish that conversation

Part 2

Taglist: @lanadelnegan @lvrgirl6999 @aubiewabie33 @negandevotee @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @heidiland05 @sadgenderfluidmaniac

[bohbee]

Genshin Characters when you have a nightmare.

Part 1

Part 2

I don't know when the others will come cause I am tiredd

Characters: Al-Haitham, Cyno, Tighnari, Wanderer, Childe, Ayato, Thoma

Warnings: blood [Al-Haitham, Thoma], strangulation [Childe], death [Al-Haitham, Childe, Cyno, Tighnari, Thoma], Dottore [Childe]

Notes: this was pretty sweet and its not proofread 💀

Masterlist

Al-Haitham

Purple flames incinerated everything around you, Sumeru city was destroyed. A large robot with maniacal laughter crushed bodies and buildings, and your eyes saw what it was holding, making your blood drain. Aether and Nahida.... their bodies bloodied and limp. "No, please wake up, guys." Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as the world started to shake, his crushing steps coming closer and closer.

"(y/n)"

Your ears faintly picked up on the quiet whispering, your light.... your savior. As if on cue, you shot up from your bed, Al-Haithams body slightly hovering over yours. Your terrified eyes met his calm ones, his hand carefully rubbed your shoulder reassuringly. "I'm here," he said softly. He placed your head on his chest and rubbed circles in your back.

"They defeated the false God. There's nothing to worry about." He hummed softly, the vibrations of his chest calming you down.

Your eyelids got Droopy, and you let sleep overwhelm your brain, Al-Haithams strong hold making you feel safe and secure.

Ayato

It wasn't often for you to have nightmares, so when Ayato had walked into his bedroom only to find his beloved crying and shaking in their sleep, he kind of panicked. He was used to taking care of his sisters nightmares as a kid. However, this was a completely different story.

He swiftly knelt on your side of the bed and rubbed your cheek softly. He quietly said your name to slowly wake you. His soft lips pepper kissed your face, causing you to jolt awake.

He quickly embraced you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. "My love, do you wish to speak about it?" He asked softly. You shook your head, causing his to nod, "Alright then, let's get some rest, okay?" He got in the bed and spooned your body. "I'll always be here to save you from those off-putting thoughts"

Childe (Ajax, Tartaglia)

It was dark. The only thing you could see was Childe restraint to a chair. Dottores shoes clicked on the floor behind you, "You see relationships leave room for vulnerability, Tartaglia." The blue-haired male said. Childes eyes widened as he started to thrash around in the chair. "There's no room for vulnerability in the fatui, you know that." The doctors hands grasped your neck tightly, panic searing through your chest as your oxygen slowly cut off.

Childes grunts and screams of agony slowly turned into ringing as your body thrusted forward, trying to breathe. However, Dottores hands never let go. Your vision got spotty before quickly turning to black.

"(Y/N)"

Your name was yelled, startling you from your awful slumber. Childes panicked eyes scanned your body, "archons finally your up." His strong, scarred arms pulled your shaking body tightly in his grasp. "They won't touch you, I'll kill every one of them if they try." His tone was dark but heavily reassuring. You nodded, not being able to trust your own voice.

He softly rocked your body and sang a quiet melody from his hometown. Assisting you back to rest.

Cyno

Dating Cyno meant that he would be gone for many weeks. He was supposed to come back three days ago, but he didn't. You asked everyone you could, but nothing was heard. And so you just had to wait. Each night he was gone, you had a nauseating nightmare of something tragic happening to him. This night wasn't different....

Tignnari rushed you to Gandharva Ville, telling you that something had gone wrong. Your heart raced as you rushed through the clinic, only to see your beloved lying on the table. His body was peaceful, his cheeks slightly sunken in, and you grabbed his hand, trying to shake him up. However, his fingers were ice cold "no no no Cy, please!" You whimpered, shaking his body harder. "Don't leave me here, cy..." You cried harder, praying to every Archon to bring him back.

~Cynos POV~

I sighed heavily as I finally entered my home, I had to prolong my expedition thanks to the sand storm that had hit. Silently, I took off my hat and walked to my bedroom, happily ready to see my spouse.

As I opened the door, my eyes landed on their shaking body. "Cy please" they whimpered, I rushed over to them, "Hey, hey. Wake up love, I'm here" he softly woke his beloved up and wiped their tears.

~(y/n) pov~

"Cy!" You exclaimed and jumped on him, bringing his body down onto yours. He let out a deep chuckle. "Where were you!" You asked, tears of relief streaming down your face.

"I got caught up in a sand storm..... I guess you could say I was Duned..... get it cause doomed and dune-" you cut him off by kissing his lips "never ever do that again, or I will sand you straight to the after life" you joked to him, he shivered slightly but smiled at your now happy demeanor. "You won't have to worry about me leafing you"

Tighnari

You and Nari had set up camp while you were exploring a new part of the woods. Nari decided to stay up first watch, so you laid down and closed your eyes...

It was everywhere, the withering zones had taken your home... your people. You looked at Gandharva Ville only to find the bodies of the ones you called family. Many researchers, watchers, and adventures laid on the ground. However, two of them had specifically caught your eye. The green-haired girl and the male with large ears laid limp on the ground, as if they were peacefully resting. Your throat erupted in a crackled sob as you tried to wrap your head around what was happening.

But a strong smell woke you up from your horrid imagination. Your eyes went wide, and you were met with gorgeous brown and green ones. He removed the herbs from under your nose "hey" he said quietly, his tail sort of hugging your waist. "You were whimpering. Why don't you grab the blanket and lay on my lap while I watch?" He offered. You shook your head and joined him outside. His delicate fingers drew intricate drawings on your back as you closed your eyes.

Thoma

Aether jumped up and grabbed the vision from Raiden. The two of them continued to fight. Thoma still restrained by the guards you watched in fear as your fiance went to go assist his blonde friend. However, in a swift motion, the guards' spear entered his abdomen.

Red painted the floor underneath his body, and you yelled his name as you tumbled to his body. His hand reaching out to you before falling limp.

You gasped, now fully awake from your traumatic dream. You turn to your fiancé who was now looking at you with confused eyes. "Hey, what's going on, my love?" He asked. You pounced on him, hugging his chest tightly, gaining a quiet humph from his chest.

"Please don't leave me," you said as tears dripped from your eyes, his heart panged against his chest. "I would never, ever. I promise to you." He softly kissed your forehead and hugged you close. "Don't let those bad memories flood your brain, I'm here and I'm not leaving."

Wanderer (kuni)

You and Kuni had dated for about 50 years before he turned into the 'wanderer', he was an awful person. But, he always had a spot for you, and so you stayed. So watching the man you love trample to the ground, only to come back again and not know who he was.... in simple terms destroyed you.

Yes he gained his memories back, but it still traumatized you to see that happen....

"Who are you?" The wanderer asked, his head tilting a bit to the side. "Kuni. Don't joke like that." You went to go grab his hand but he pulled away, your heart cracking slightly "I'm not joking..." your heart dropped. 'No' you thought to yourself 'this can't actually be happening'.

Your body shot up, catching the attention of the puppet who was at his desk. He turned around and looked at your body, shaking and crying. Though he didn't understand what was going on, he knew that you were in a place of vulnerability.

"Doll? What happened?" he said sternly, "the same nightmare." Your mumble was weak as you hugged yourself tightly. He sighed and walked over to you, getting into the bed. You hugged his chest tightly, as if he wasn't gonna be there the next day. "I am still your same Kuni, just with a small upgrade." He said softly, slowly rubbing your back. It wasn't often that he would be this affectionate. But he had felt guilty for causing you such turmoil. "Go on back to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up." He said, his words reassuring you. "Promise?" He smiled and nodded "Duh"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I think this was good.

[gudfornuthin]

Hello I made a request a while back but you never got to it and that is completely okay! I understand completely being a writer myself. I was wondering if I could make a different request but not sure if you do it? It’s a request for Billy from stranger things?

Idea- Yn and Billy have been together for a few years and Billy survives when he is attacked. Ever since YN has hard time with nightmares but doesn’t tell Billy about it. And YN stays the night at his place and wakes up from a nightmare calling out for Billy and doesn’t see him in bed. Max comes in to trying to calm her down but YN thinks Billy is dead. Billy comes from outside in when he heard loud crying and shouting from his girlfriend. And he holds her telling her he is going nowhere and he is okay.

( Nickname: Baby or Babygirl ) if possible

I hope this isn’t too over barring but if so I completely understand. And won’t be upset if you turn down my request. Thank you for hearing me out my love!

Not going anywhere

Billy Hargrove x reader

A/N: so I’m back into my writing hit! I do apologise anon for taking way too long to do this, and idk if the other request ever came through, as my tumblr says I have three but it’s only showing this one. Either way, I hope you all enjoy and hopefully imma be writing a lot more from now on. Feedback is appreciated :)

The mall was in ruins. The Mind Flayer continued its rampage, smashing anything that got in its way. The group consisting of teens and adults had split up just moments ago, putting their plan into motion and hoping to pull it off. It all came down to this moment, defeating the monster and making it home safe.

Y/N hides behind a turned over table, battered and bruised with an arm that’s most definitely broken. She’s not a hero. She’s not used to this life, dealing with these nonsensical creatures. Her boyfriend and his sister are to blame for that.

Billy wasn’t the asshole play boy everyone claimed him to be. Not since they started dating. He’s soft, and kind, and cares. Sometimes too much. He’d never dreamed of dragging Y/N into this mess, but love does stupid things to a person. And she definitely wasn’t letting him go through all this alone.

Speaking of her boyfriend, she finally hears his shouts not far from her hiding place. She pops her head up slightly, and spots Billy running towards her.

“Baby?” His eyes land on her. “Oh thank god, I was wondering where the hell you were.”

Y/N stands up, moving towards him, wanting nothing more than to hold him tight and never let go. Before she has the chance to reach him, a long arm crashes through the wall, heading directly for Billy. The Mind Flayer. It pierces him in the chest, black sludge spurting from his mouth. Y/N lets out a visceral scream, falling to her knees. She looks into the eyes of her dying boyfriend, knowing there’s nothing she can do to help him.

Arms wrap around Y/N’s waist, pulling her away from the massacre before her. She turns her head, coming face to face with Billy’s sister Max, a sad expression on her face.

“Y/N?”

“He’s dead,” she replies to Max, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I should’ve saved him. He’s fucking dead.”

“Y/N please-”

Max’s words fall on deaf ears. “No, I can’t do this.”

“Y/N, you have to wake up.”

“He’s fucking dead!”

“Y/N! Wake. Up!”

Y/N jolts up from her lying position, sweat covering her entire body, breathing heavily. Max sits in front of her, hands on her shoulders. She looks terrified.

Y/N glances to her left, the space next to her empty. She starts to panic again.

“Where’s Billy?”

“Y/N you need to calm down-”

“The Mind Flayer, it got to him.”

Max shakes her head. “Hey, he’s just gone outside to-”

Y/N pulls at her hair, more tears threatening to fall. “No, he’s dead. I just saw him die, and I couldn’t do anything.”

She continues mumbling under her breath, ignoring Max’s pleas, promising her he’s okay. She hugs her stomach, falling on her side and closing her eyes. Max tries soothing the girl, but once again nothing works. There’s only one person who can fix this, and even though Max knows he doesn’t like to be disturbed during his ‘brooding smoke session’, she thinks he’ll let it slide this once. For his girl.

***

Billy stands outside the house, shirtless, with a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips. He’s thought about quitting, having this conversation on the daily with Y/N. She doesn’t mind too much, just hates the smell. He doesn’t smoke indoors anymore, and always has a can of body spray and a pack of mint gums on hand. For her.

He takes a final drag, when Max rushes out the house, almost toppling over him. Her face almost matches her hair, as she grabs his arm and pulls him towards the front door.

“Maxine, do you fucking mind?” He tries not to snap at her as much as he used to, but sometimes it’s hard not to. “I can’t have five minutes of me time?”

Max continues dragging him. “It’s Y/N.”

That catches his attention, as he pushes her hand off his arm and runs into the house, not bothering to ask any questions.

He makes his way to his bedroom, pushing the door open and spotting his girlfriend lying in a curled up ball on the bed, hands on her face and sobs shaking her body. He sits down next to her, hands resting on her back as he lowers his voice just so she can hear.

“Y/N, baby?”

She doesn’t respond, but her breathing slows, acknowledging his words. Billy runs his hands down to her arms, then her face, gently lifting her head. He runs his thumbs over her eyes, and she finally opens them, bloodshot and red.

“Billy?”

He kisses her briefly on the lips. “I’m here baby girl. I’m right here.”

“I thought you’d-” she doesn’t finish her sentence, but Billy can guess where it was going.

“I’m okay, see,” he kisses her again, then her cheeks, then the crown of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

As if waking from a trance, Y/N throws herself at Billy, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. He hugs her back, his arms snaking around her waist, pressing his face into her hair. They stay there for what seems like hours, both not realising how badly they needed comfort from each other. They were together, and that’s all that mattered.

[your-local-hoemie]

HELLO 🐢ANON BACK AGAIN WITH ZHONGLU BRAINROT THUS TIME YIPEE

Okayokay so imagine like immortal!reader who went into like a deep sleep/coma after the archon war to like recover and everything. So after zhongli retired (i forgot how many yrs after the archon war) reader finally wakes up and gets so confused coz their lover morax is dead?? But reader recognizes him (hes standing right infront of them) so theyre even more confused now and why is his name zhongli?? Either way reader jumps into his arms and hugs him and asks him what happened and everything so theyre reunited and happy now 🥰 and zhongli almost comung to tears coz hes so happy that readers alive 😞😞 all this time he thought they were dead T-T and they kinda live as retired gods in liyue enjoying their "mortal" life together ughhh so cute like an old married couple

OH MY GOD YES IM SCREAMING, CRYING, GIGGLING, KICKING AND ALL OF THE RESTVDHFJFJDJFJFKIFIG!!!!! 🙏🙏🙏

Watch me get too carried away with the angst because I love putting myself through pain.

Warnings: mild angst, fluff, Zhongli being a simp, gn!reader, not proof-read.

Characters: Zhongli.

It had been a long, grueling battle.

You had fought tirelessly next to your lover, Zhongli. Throughout the day, the entirety of the war.

He often spoke about his displeasure in you doing so but the thought of him possibly getting hurt, or worse, terrified you.

So after your complete disregard for your own safety. You finally struck down the last of the enemies as the war slowly came to an end, only to notice how badly injured you were.

Once Morax came across your broken and bloodied body, he swears it’s the closest he’s ever come to breaking.

Even after all the lives he’s had to take, the blood spilled in his name.

You were the one thing he couldn’t handle losing after this long, gruesome nightmare.

After he carried you back to the safety of your small, hidden cottage where you would both spend your time drinking tea and talking about your future together in Liyue before the war started, he tentatively cared for your wounds and watched over you every chance he could.

He obviously knew that you were immortal. he also knew that occasionally, if you were hurt or sick, you'd fall into a regenerative sleep.

So when you remained unconscious for a few weeks, he wasn't worried. After all, a few weeks in his eternity meant nothing. Though he'd be lying if he said he didn't miss you beyond words.

After weeks turned into months and months turned into years, his hope of ever seeing your soft gaze soon vanished as his time was becoming more and more occupied with rebuilding the land he once ruled over with you by his side.

When the last wall was built for the last house for the now growing population of Liyue, he had to make the decision to move on.

So with one last visit to the cottage, now hidden away even more by overgrown shrubbery, he placed what he thought would be his final kiss on your cheek along with soft begs of forgiveness and apologies, he finally mustered up the strength to walk out the worn down door one last time.

Now, many, many years later, hidden away in that same cottage now completely overgrown and reclaimed by the wilderness, you finally forced your eyelids to open and take in the almost blinding rays of sunlight streaming in from the cracks in the walls as vines hung down and gently caressed your skin.

Slowly sitting up, you took in the scene around you. This was definitely not how you remembered your home looking.

How long had you been asleep? Where was your beloved? What if he was still on the battlefield? All of these thoughts rushed through your mind as you forced your stiff bones to support your weight as you stood up faster than what you should of.

Now fully conscious, not to mention disorientated, you ran out of the small abode to scan the area for any signs of Morax only to find something that confused you even more.

Nothing. You found nothing of the chaos and bloodshed that you remembered so vividly, only the soft touch of grass beneath your feet and the cool summer breeze caressing your skin.

Turning around in a daze, you examine your once cozy and welcoming home only to find it now crumbling and overgrown with plants and wildlife

If this had been any other time you would have found the scene to be enchanting, but as the realization of how long you had been asleep slowly started to hit you, you couldn't help but feel your heart start to race with anxiety and questions.

Taking a deep breath, you gathered your thoughts as best as you could and decided to go to the closest village you remembered.

Needless to say, after walking for around 40 minutes, you were more than a little shocked to see the village now being a very large and very populated city.

"Excuse me, are you alright?"

Looking around with a confused expression you locked eye's with what appeared to be a guard of some sort.

"Y-yes um, would you mind telling me where I am?"

"Liyue harbor of course! Home of the great Geo Archon and Teyvats largest trading supply lines!"

Hearing the formal title of your seemingly lost lover you couldn't help but pry the poor soul from your confused questioning.

"Geo Archon? Morax? Would you know where I could find him? we know each other and-"

"I'm sorry, you must be new here. Morax was killed not too long ago…”

After hearing those words leave his mouth your mind suddenly went blank.

Not only had you been asleep for what seemed like centuries but now you’ve just found out that the love of your life, Your other half had not only died but was also murdered.

Not saying anything else, you took your leave and started walking aimlessly through the city streets that now felt even more foreign that what they did before.

You did your best to try and take in your new surroundings and find out just how long you had been unconscious for but the looming grief that wrecked your heart just seemed to get worse with every mention of Morax.

After spending a few hours aimlessly walking around the harbour you decided that all you needed right now was to process your thoughts.

Taking a deep breath, you say yourself down on a wall that overlooked what seemed to be the centre of a market place that was now silent of any busy citizens as the moon rose up above the horizon highlighting the buildings with a soft glow.

The only signs of life left now were a handful of fishermen packing up their boats for the night and a small tea house that overlooked the street leading ti the harbour that was occupied by two sails men that were selling fish at the dock earlier and-

You feel your heart stop in your chest as you lean forward to take in the silhouette of a tall man with posture matching that of a plank of wood and a very familiar looking rat tail.

There’s no way. It’s impossible. You just found out he died in front of all of Liyue harbour’s citizens just months earlier.

You were so convinced that it was just the grief making your mind go fuzzy that you got up and decided to walk and find a place when you heard him speak.

“Ah, yes. This tea is superb as always”

You swear you dug your heels so hard into the ground that it left a mark in the stone beneath you.

“Morax..?”

The man froze solid in place at hearing his old name come from such a familiar voice that he could of sworn it was just his ears playing tricks on him.

Hesitating for a moment, you took a step closer to him as his deep golden eyes widened at the sight of you now draped in the soft glow from the tea house.

“Y/N…? It can’t be”

Through your vision that’s now blurred with tears you could see him stand up before slowly walking down the steps towards your figure before speaking words that could barley be heard over the gentle breeze.

“It really is… Celestia it really is you!”

Without a second thought, you ran up to him and the your arms around his waist before sobbing into his chest (heh breakdown boobies)

Not saying another word he kneeled on the ground holding your shaking body in his strong arms, not even bothering to hold back the tears running down his cheeks.

“I.. I thought you were dead! Everyone told me you were killed and I-”

“As did I, my love. I thought I lost you many centuries ago and that I lost the blessing of seeing your smile once more”

You both stayed like that for a while longer as he held you close to his chest as physically possible, almost as if he feared that the second he let you go, you’d disappear again.

When you both recovered from the shock of finding each other after believing you’d lost the other one for eternity, “Morax” took you to a quiet place away from the city and explained everything that had happened since you fell asleep all those centuries ago and how he’s retired from being an archon to simply live as “Zhongli”

“I can’t believe you still remember me after all that time”

“How could I forget, love? Every second I spent without feeling your hand in mine was far worse than any tragedy I’ve bore in my lifetime”

“I suppose I’ll have to get used to calling you zhongli now, huh?”

You both let out a soft laugh while Zhongli wrapped you tightly in his embrace.

Times might be very different to what they were but you have all the time in the world to adjust, and you can rest assured that the love of your life won’t leave your side ever again for the rest of eternity.

“I love you, Morax”

“Forever and always, my dear~”

AAAAHAJDLEIDODODEDJDIR WHY DID I ALMOST CRY WRITING THIS HNGGGGGGGFGG IT’S SO BAD

My creative juices became a waterfall and then a whole ass tsunami. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t missed staying up until literally 5am to write about my boys T-T

[ataliagold]

and the moonlight baby shows you what's real

Title from Love Like Ghosts by Lord Huron. This is based off my own experiences with sleep paralysis, so yet again I'm projecting onto Steve :)

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: T

W/C: 1099

C/W: Sleep paralysis

Tags: post-vecna, established steddie, steve has sleep paralysis, eddie looks after him, steve needs a hug - he gets one

Summary: In the aftermath of Vecna, Steve's left with a variety of issues, including frequent episodes of sleep paralysis. Luckily, he doesn't have to suffer through them alone.

___

Steve’s eyes snap open. They lock on the figure at the end of his bed looming over it, shadowy and shapeless and huge.

His heart slams in his chest. Trying to suck in a lungful of air he finds he can’t, can barely force his chest to expand, his breath coming in tiny, rapid pants instead. There’s ringing in his ears, strange whispers competing for his attention around the room, and the figure is leaning over the mattress now, getting closer and he’s completely fucking stuck.

Frozen in place, Steve’s eyes dart left to where Eddie should be. He can make him out in the light of the moon pouring through the window, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the state Steve is trapped in.

Eddie knows about this. About the sleep paralysis. It had been plaguing Steve for a while now, but he’d been too embarrassed to say anything until Eddie had witnessed it firsthand one night and been convinced Vecna was somehow back, that he was coming for Steve just as he’d come for Chrissy…and Steve had been forced to explain. That this wasn’t anything supernatural, this was just…another of his many issues.

It was added to the list alongside his head trauma, his insomnia, his deteriorated hearing.

Steve had learnt to recognize it now, to realize when it was happening to him instead of thinking it was some strange nightmare every time, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still terrifying as hell in the moment.

And Eddie had helped him through several episodes of this by now, but he can’t help if Steve’s unable to wake him up and he can’t move…

His heart rate climbs rapidly. The shadow figure still looms, growing taller and taller and soon it’ll be touching him.

Suddenly, Steve feels himself being tugged towards the foot of the bed.

Logically, he knows he’s not moving - knows he’s still lying flat on his bed beside Eddie but it fucking feels like he’s being dragged toward that thing and fuck he needs Eddie to wake up…

He tries to make a sound. Tries to say Eddie’s name, tries to yell, anything.

A small whimper manages to claw its way from his throat.

It’s enough.

The mattress dips as Eddie rolls over, as he sits up and blinks down at Steve.

And Steve’s stuck in some dark place between asleep and awake, but he’s sure Eddie’s real, would know his boyfriend even if he were blind and deaf.

Realization crosses Eddie’s face, and he flicks on the bedside lamp.

“Stevie, sweetheart, you’re ok,” Eddie murmurs, shuffling closer to him but not touching yet. “This is sleep paralysis, whatever you’re seeing isn’t real. There’s nothing here but you and me, ok?”

But the shadow’s still there.

Steve’s told Eddie about the dark figure that haunts these episodes before, so Eddie knows what Steve’s scared of, but he still wants to tell him, tries to, only succeeding in making a small gurgling noise in the back of his throat.

“I’m here, Stevie. It’s…three twenty-three am. You’re in our bedroom, and this will pass in a few minutes, ok? Can you try move a finger?”

This was a tactic Dustin had suggested, once word of Steve’s…nighttime issues had spread. The kid had taken all sorts of books about sleep disorders out from the library, had researched until he’d found something actually useful. If Steve could force even a finger to move, then he’d eventually manage to move his hand, his arm, and at that point he could rip himself out of paralysis.

Steve focuses all his energy on the pinky of his left hand. His eyes shoot to the end of the bed again, where the shadow figure is bending down, where it’s about to fucking crawl onto the mattress…

“Hey, no, focus on me sweetheart,” Eddie slowly reaches for his hand, doesn’t squeeze it or move it, just lays it over Steve’s. Moonlight glows across his pale skin, and even in distress Steve thinks he’s fucking beautiful. “I promise it’s not real. Try and move your hand, yeah?”

Steve tries again. Manages a tiny twitch in his pinky.

Eddie grins. “There you go, try again.”

He does, curling the pinky towards his palm and back again.

“Now try and squeeze my hand,” Eddie encourages.

With his heart still pounding, Steve forces his frozen fingers to cooperate, clenching down on Eddie’s hand clumsily.

The shadow figure retreats across the bedroom, out the door. The ringing in his ears fades, and Steve manages to swallow, to take a gasping breath.

“You’re ok, I’ve got you, I’m here,” Eddie soothes him, reaching for him as Steve starts to move, as he curls inwards towards him, still trembling.

“Sorry,” Steve whines into his chest, as Eddie cradles him close.

“Shhhh, just breathe,” Eddie whispers, running a hand slowly up and down Steve’s back.

And Steve’s shaking even as his heart rate starts to slow, as he slumps into Eddie’s hold, as the adrenaline floods out of his system and leaves him strung-out and exhausted.

“Sorry I woke you,” Steve repeats, his voice hitching and stuttering, “I couldn’t…I didn’t know what to -”

“Hey,” Eddie interrupts, kissing the top of his head, “I’ve told you before, I want you to wake me up. Every time. I don’t want you going through that alone, ok?”

Steve nods slightly, hair brushing across Eddie’s collarbone with the movement.

“Did you see it again? The…shadow guy?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods again. “He was about to climb onto the bed.”

Eddie snorts, pulls Steve somehow closer to him. “Bit rude of him, fucker should probably ask before joining us in bed.”

Steve manages a tiny chuckle despite himself, rests his hand at Eddie’s waist, feels himself slowly settling against the comforting warmth of his boyfriend.

“Want me to read a bit while you go back to sleep?”

Steve nods, avoiding Eddie’s eye, still shy, still a stranger to accepting the help Eddie so readily offers him.

But Eddie only kisses him briefly, reaches for his book on the bedside table, and scans the page for where he’d left off.

Steve has no idea what the book is even about, but it doesn’t matter. It’s Eddie’s voice, calm and soothing and familiar washing over him that helps his breathing slow, that relaxes him back into a state where he can even consider going back to sleep again.

He lets his eyes droop. Feels the vibration of Eddie’s chest against his cheek, sinks further into the blankets, and allows sleep to take him again.

Eddie’s got him, after all.

___

[morganas-pendragons]

respite | Master Chief

this is the halo discords fault.

@lialacleaf / @embarrassedauthornerd / @empresskadia

***

His dreams are not kind to him.

It takes a considerable amount of effort to wake up in the middle of the night and not allow the scream building in his throat to break free. To untangle his grip from crumpled sheets, to slow his breathing back to something steady where his heartbeat isn't pounding in his own ears.

His dreams are not kind to him. His ghosts, even less.

You're woken up to screaming.

His adjustment has not been easy since Cortana's disappearance. So much has happened to the Master Chief in so little time, and not a single person onboard this ship has taken the opportunity to give him the time to process it.

You're determined to be the one who helps him do so. It starts off simple, as it did when you first met. Assurances of watching his back and being his partner on the field. Friendly touches on forearms and shoulders, firm nods of confirmation, always looking out for each other.

It had turned into something more when he'd saved you from the Flood.

It had turned into something more for him when you'd saved him from the group of Brute Chieftains just before High Charity had crashed. That's a whole other story for a whole other day.

John trusted you. He trusted you with his life, with himself, and that was not easy to obtain. Having the trust of The Master Chief as both a soldier and a person was like being given his heart and watching it settle into your hands.

A broken, bleeding thing.

You remember the first time he'd actually screamed. It was loud and agonizing and raw, and only hours after Miranda had died. You had maybe two hours tops before you had to activate the Ring. You'd forced him to sleep for said two hours, because he was not going to function well otherwise.

The Arbiter acted as he did not hear it. Dishonorable, he'd said, to look upon a man like that and acknowledge his turmoil.

"Well, your dishonor is our comfort."

You'd entered the room and sat by his side until he calmed down. You didn't touch him, you didn't say a word, but the act of your presence at his side was enough.

You slid his helmet back on and leaned forward to lightly knock your head against it. There is not an ounce of apprehension in your gaze. No. That's confidence.

Confidence in him.

"To war then, Master Chief."

John had come to appreciate that about you. When everyone else was betting on him to lose and the odds were entirely against him, your steady footing and steadfastness were all he needed to keep pushing forward.

He found himself seeking you out more than embracing his elusive nature and isolating to cope with what played behind his eyes when he slept. Miranda's death. Keyes death. Johnsons death. Cortana-

Cortana had taken his willingness to embrace the fight. Having you and her had rejuvenated him. Had given him a purpose that he felt he could successfully fulfill.

Then she was gone. She'd touched him, said those words that would forever be burned into his memory, and she was gone.

John would've been lying if he said he wasn't terrified that the same thing would happen to you.

That's what brought him to this point. Fingers wound tightly enough in the sheets to crumple them beneath his grasps, blue eyes wildly seeking something to anchor to while his heart pounded loudly in his ears. The moonlight fractured against the window to his right, illuminating the bedroom and his body in white as he twisted and turned on the mattress.

He didn't fully emerge from that nightmare until you opened the door.

Vulnerable. You're vulnerable. You are not safe.

"John? Are you alright?"

You haven't moved. He can just barely see you lingering in the darkness of his doorway. You've closed the door behind you on entry, fingers wound around the wall loosely as you wait for an opening to come closer.

He needs to breathe. His chest hurts, and his eyes are on fire, and why are his cheeks wet-

You're sitting beside him in a moment's notice. He can't quite hear what you're saying now, and perhaps he doesn't need to, because all he can feel is the warmth of your hand on his chest and the other curving around his jawline. It's a stark contrast from the bitter cold of death that always seems to linger in his dreams.

He reads your lips instead as the world slowly comes back into focus. You are safe. You are with someone you trust. You are secure. All attributes that the two of you have said about one another. All attributes that caused him to allow himself to be vulnerable, to allow you to see a side of him most people didn't.

His mind shifts backwards to the first time he'd let you remove his helmet. That alone spoke volumes. Most Spartans didn't even let the other members of their fire team remove their helmets, or their armor.

It had been the talk of the Infinity for weeks.

"John." You're still giving him an opportunity to talk, and the way your gentleness and patience is so all encompassing causes the breath he'd lost to slowly come back into his lungs. "What do you need?"

The logical part of his brain knows the answer to that. He needs to win the war. He needs peace of mind. He needs sleep, and food, and Blue. He really misses Blue Team.

What he does not need is to talk about this dream. About the death. About losing you, and how watching you die finally made him wake up to a very simple realization: Losing you was not an option. Losing you could not happen, because he was in love with you, and had been for a while.

His desires had just not allowed themselves to be known when being the face of a war only he could win.

His heart, however, is what wins out in the end. Master Chief Petty Officer Sierra 117 looks up at you and says, "You."

***

You don't know what that means. For all the time that you and John have been dancing around each other - years, in fact, because you'd resigned yourself to your feelings being one-sided long before this - you never anticipated broken, bleeding fingers shakily reaching out to wrap your own around what is left of his heart.

That is exactly what's on full display right now.

"I don't want to take advantage-"

Your breath catches in your throat as John's hands come to cradle your jaw. It's the first time he's touched you without gloves covering his fingers. It's the first time you've also been able to really see him without the helmet, and he is the most magnificent man you've ever laid eyes on.

You've wondered for years what color his eyes are. It has haunted your dreams, especially whenever the two of you were separated when the Forward Unto Dawn split.

Blue. Such a glorious, deep shade of blue.

"If I didn't want it," He says quietly. "I wouldn't ask."

You slide your knees against the standard UNSC mattress and allow him to, though slowly and hesitantly, take you into his embrace. Menial comforts are not something Spartans are afforded. To be able to take the offer of your comfort, of you, is not something he ever regret doing.

John's head slowly falls into the dip of your shoulder the minute you are in his lap. It's comfortable, and warm, and all you can feel against you is every part of him. It's exactly what you've dreamt of for all the years you've held such deeply rooted feelings for him.

You shiver as his breath fans across your skin. It's intimate. You wonder if picking his head back up to kiss him is too far, but you miss one hundred percent of the risks you don't take.

So you do.

"John," You whisper. "There's never going to be a time where I don't bet on you. You are the one who's gotten us this far, and you're the one who will see us through. I know it. I believe in you."

You watch the knot in his throat bob as he swallows, eyes brightened by the beams of moonlight from outside as you both hesitate.

"Believe in me a little bit longer," His voice is so low that you almost don't hear it, and he's the one who leans forward to follow that desire he has suppressed for is long. "Please."

You nod. Once, twice, three times.

"Always."

And the moment his mouth catches yours, the safety he has so desperately been seeking since Cortana disappeared finds itself encompassing him within their arms.

For the weary soldier, respite comes in the form of his partner: His compassionate, empathetic, gentle partner who will always be there to watch his six. To fight his demons, to ward away his ghosts.

He would not have it be anyone else.

Only you.

[vibinsane]

please, just stay a little longer. rafayel x reader (she/her) drabble

she would have reoccurring dreams of a sea god that saved her when she was meant to be a sacrificed to him. in the dream, she was fully aware of what was happening, as if she had lived in this time before. but as soon as she would wake up, she could not recall a thing, yet she was left with a feel of emptiness, like something was missing or she had lost something very important to her.

note: this is clearly self indulgent, and i just could not get this out of my head while it popped up as i kept listening to that unknown bgm in chapter 9, so it kept yelling at me until i wrote it. pieces of chapter 1 and little bit of pieces of chapter 9 in forbidden sea. not beta read, here is your warning. i am also very rusty, but i hope those that read this will enjoy it!

warning: angst, hurt with slight comfort i suppose? but hey, it's sfw.

it was the day of his ceremony, every lemurian gathered to witness the sea god and his beloved walk into the temple. fishes of all kinds swam about and round rafayel and his beloved follower.

upon the two entering the temple, everything became silent, save for the gentle sound of the water as she looked around before her eyes landed on her hand in rafayel’s. the way he held her hand as if it were the most delicate thing in all of the sea and land made her heart skip beats. 

she closed her eyes, raised her other hand and rested it on her chest. she took a deep breath and spoke to herself.

i am willing to give him my heart.

i am willing to give him my sincerest form of worship.

i am willing to have his very being etched, engraved onto my soul as i praise and pray to him for the rest of my life.

she felt rafayel’s hand in hers, something hot began to intertwine and embed itself into her palm, it became a line and part of her soul.

then, panic rose as she opened her eyes. 

“this is my promise to you.” rafayel spoke in the softest tone much like how soft his eyes looked into hers. “for ‘tis lemuria’s vow, a bond everlasting.”

“rafayel, wait—” she smiled nervously, her heart beating too fast for her own good. “why does it sound like…you’re saying farewell to me. please, i—” 

rafayel stepped forward, lifted his arm and wrapped it around her waist, drawing her in closely like the gentle current of the sea, small blue fish began circling around them and one red one in particular seemingly settled on rafayel’s shoulder as a blue one settled on hers.

how foolish, even in the sea does her tears begin to build up. even as she was underwater with the god of the sea, she could not stop the tears from falling from her eyes.

“do not worry, i will not be gone for long.” 

"you said that last time and the time after that, stop lying to me..."

still panicked, she immediately threw herself onto him, despite his protests from last time when they snuck out to see the sunset both under the sea and above. she did not care for what rafayel would do. 

“hold me. push me away. i don't care, just—please, stay a little longer.” she begged with the weakest voice despite how much strength it took for her to tamp down this undeniable fear of being abandoned, almost etching itself right where the thread that sealed their bond remained. "can't we just stay like this for a moment more?"

rafayel stills, eyes wide and at first he did not move nor did he say anything. then, his eyes relaxed and there was a smile that etched upon his lips as he finally lifted his arms to wrap themselves around her, placing a gentle but fleeting kiss onto the top of her head. 

“once a lemurian is bonded with a human, they cannot go against their wishes.” he reminded her of what the bond entailed, despite being the young god of the sea.

“then, stay. please, rafayel—don’t leave me.” she did not care how desperate she sounded because he thought of rafayel no longer being with her terrified her and her worst nightmare soon manifested itself as she heard rafayel’s chuckle.

“i will find you no matter where you are, we will meet again. but for now, it is time for you to wake up.” 

“don’t lie to me! you always say this, every time, in this very moment and then i’m left waking up to an empty bed and something empty inside me that i can’t understand until i fall back asleep and pray to whatever deity will hear me to meet with you again. why… why can’t you stay any longer?!” 

“shh. do you not trust me?” 

she fell quiet, burying her face against his shoulder as the tears continued falling. “i do, but—” 

“there is no but. you either trust me or you do not.” rafayel sighed quietly and cupped her face, his eyes spoke louder than the words he could offer her, yet he did not know if she felt his emotions. after all, he was not that good when it came to expressing something so intense he felt which was all because of her. 

she only clung onto him tighter, refusing to wake up just to forget everything that had happened in her dream that felt so real. who is that man? where was she? why can she not recall his name?

rafayel gazed at her, knowing she was deep in thought and lifted his hand to brush away the tears, shaking his head gently. “what a shame, human tears do not turn into pretty pearls when they cry, yet i find yours the most precious in the entire sea.”

he leaned close to her ear, his fingers gently carding through her soft locks. “trust me and let me go, you will not have to wait any longer.” 

she shook her head, hugging him even more tightly. “i don’t want to! i’m tired of never remembering you in my waking life. it’s not fair!” 

“you have stayed here for far too long, do you not wish to see me in the waking life?” 

“how long, rafayel? how long until i can meet you again, what if i cannot remember you?”

“it will sadden me, i will admit, however…that does not mean that i would give up on you. after all, i will chase you to the ends of the earth.”

rafayel’s words began to fade as her vision darkens and the whalefall city is turned into ruins just as the ancient civilization of lemuria was soon forgotten.

she shot up in her bed, breathing heavily and blinked before a gasp escaped her. her hand lifted as she brushed some tears away then rubbed at her eyes. normally, she would remain confused for a short moment before pulling herself together and return to her every day life.

this time, while she cannot remember anything, she placed her hand on her chest before she drew her knees to her chest and buried her face in her arms, letting herself mourn.

what am i mourning for? 

why does everything feel so empty? 

why does it feel as i i’m crying about something lost? 

what did i lose? 

…who did i lose?

eventually, she was able to collect herself and prepare for the hunter ceremony. today was the day she would become an official deepspace hunter. once the day was coming to an end, tara waved goodbye before she was being dragged by a random young boy to help him with something.

with the fish net, she looked into the pool and furrowed her brows before she could attempt to swipe one into the net, someone interrupted her concentration. 

“...but this one, bright as a flame, is a real flammula from lemurian legends.”

“flammula? i’m not very familiar with those myths or folklore.”

something in her chest tugged the moment he turned and walked away. something yelled inside her to go after him, but why? she was confused and something inside her felt disappointed as the figure gradually became smaller until he could not be seen any longer.  

[cosmicobubisi]

Cosmic's Malleyuu Whump vs Flufftober: Day 23

"I'm doing this for you" / Stormy Night

Yuu was having a wonderful dream about lying in a meadow.

It was warm, the sun beaming down on them pleasantly as they dozed.

The breeze, in contrast, was cool. It danced lightly on the apples of their cheeks.

Yuu tilted their head to the side, rubbing their face in Grim's luxuriously soft fur. He smelled like Yuu's lavender soap, and nuzzled Yuu back sleepily.

Suddenly, the sun behind Yuu's eyelids was gone. Their eyes slid open to see a swarm of dark clouds had suddenly overtaken the sky.

Before they could scrutinize the sudden change in weather, a terrifying bolt of lightning crashed down onto the meadow.

--

Yuu awoke with a start.

They were frozen in place, a light sweat forming on their skin. Their limbs felt numbish, and it took a few moments for them to regain enough feeling to notice Grim was waking up, too.

The disorientation had blurred their vision, and their eyes had a tough time adjusting to the darkness.

The darkness blinked, and Yuu nearly threw up in fear.

It wasn't the suddeness of bring ripped out of their dream. Someone was standing over them, blocking out the moonlight from the windows.

They tried to run through their list of all of the people that could be standing ominously over their bed at what Yuu estimated to be well past midnight, but they knew their was only really one option.

"Malleus?" they croaked out.

"Hello," he replied, sounding far more awake than them.

"Hey," they said, because he didn't respond.

"Ngeh," said Grim, stretching himself awake. "Tsunotaro? What are you doing here?"

"Thank you for asking. I simply wished to speak with you," he replied.

"...huh?" The words didn't quite make sense to Yuu.

"This late?" asked Grim.

"Why, of course," said Malleus. "But not to worry. We can talk somewhere else- you needn't say anything."

Yuu's brow furrowed, but they could faintly make out Malleus reaching down to them, and in an instant, the world changed.

They were holding Grim in the crook of their arm as Malleus held Yuu in his, throw blanket loosely wrapped around their shoulders. They realized they were staring at the layout of Malleus's room.

Yuu blinked harshly. Malleus had the lights on his room.

It was surprisingly messy, given how clinically orderly he usually kept it. Malleus had once explained to Yuu that, though he appreciated that Sebek had arranged it so everything in his room had a place, he honestly preferred it when his items were strewn about without rhyme or reason.

Despite this explanation, though, Yuu couldn't help but be startled at the mess. Who knew such a neat and well-groomed person filled his desk with piles of office tools, textbooks, papers, and what looked like knitting implements?

Malleus placed Yuu on his bed (pushing off a mound of pillows in the process) and climbed in with the pair, despite apparently still being in his school uniform.

"Uhhh..." said Yuu.

"Hey! What are you doin', dragon boy?" exclaimed Grim, standing on Yuu's chest indignantly.

"Nothing," he said, coiling his body around Yuu. "Now, you may rest with the knowledge that you are safe."

A moment went by.

"What is this," said Yuu flatly.

"Why, nothing," replied Malleus lightly. "Go to sleep. I will keep watch."

Yuu glared exhaustively into the darkness. They lifted up their arm and started feeling up Malleus's chest, slapping around in the dark for what they were looking for.

"Hmm?" Malleus made a noise of confusion.

Yuu pulled his chest closer to their ear, and took a listen at his heart.

"Did you have a nightmare?" mumbled Yuu.

"W- I am doing this for you," he insisted. "My intent is pure."

"Mmm-hmm," they groaned. Malleus had already had this dream a few times, where Yuu died or was otherwise gone to him forever.

The disorientation of sleep to wakefulness disoriented Malleus as well, and the fear injected straight into his veins caused him to confuse dream for reality. The only cure was to see Yuu, and know they were alive.

"Get under the covers," grumbled Yuu. "You're cold."

Malleus did as he was told, popping under his comforter and wrapping his arms around Yuu again.

They shivered. His hands were naturally cold, but they pulled him in closer anyway, hoping their own heat trapped under the comforter would warm him up, and also calm him down.

"Thank you," he whispered, and Yuu nodded, though they realized he wouldn't see that.

[thedelicatearcher]

do you have any headcannons for dad!haymitch???

also i love ur writing smmmmm<<<<<<3333

yess!!! also thank you so much, really appreciate it <33

dad!haymitch abernathy headcanons

• being a dad was incredibly hard for haymitch at first. he had spent his entire life afraid of forming real connections, terrified that the capitol would kill them off as they had done before. the first time he held his baby in his arms, he couldn’t stop the tears from flowing, suppressing his sobs as his newborn daughter wrapped her tiny hand around the tip of his finger.

• haymitch spent many nights in the nursery, staring protectively at the baby while she slept. his anxiety constantly warned him that if he looked away, even for a second, something terrible would happen to her. you often woke up to find haymitch asleep in the rocking chair you use to help the baby fall asleep, in such an awkward position that you knew he would be grumbling all day about a sore neck.

• the warm sensation in his chest at the sight of his baby looking at him with adoring eyes was unforgettable. that is the mental image he tries to focus on whenever he has a nightmare and tries to ground himself back to reality. closing his eyes tightly, inhaling and exhaling consciously, he tries to stop himself from hyperventilating. finally feeling calm, though still weary, he quietly enters the nursery and, with great gentleness, caresses his daughter’s cheek with his finger, careful not to wake her.

• haymitch absolutely despised changing the baby’s diaper. ever since his daughter peed on his face, he had been reluctant to do it again. he used his persuasion skills to negotiate his way out of diaper duty. ‘look, sweetheart,’ he started to bargain, trying to hide the desperation in his eyes, ‘if i never have to change the baby again, i promise the house will be spotless. no more of my dirty clothes lying around, and no more toys on the floor.’ when you lovingly laughed at his face, his businessman facade immediately dropped, realizing he had to overcome his distaste.

• eventually, he did it again. haymitch mastered the art of temporarily blocking his sense of smell. he focused on his daughter’s infectious laughter and the pleasant scent of baby powder, rather than the lingering odor of diapers that haunted his nightmares.

• with no experience in carpentry whatsoever and never having built anything in his life, haymitch so innocently decided to make some toys. ‘it shouldn’t be that hard,’ he thought, envisioning a wooden rocking horse in his mind. his calloused hands were clumsy, and he ended up with cuts from the small knife he attempted to was a mini, weird-looking horse that resembled more of a whale. he huffed dramatically before standing up and heading to the market, where a perfectly crafted  wooden horse seemed to call his name to be bought.

• HE IS A GIRL DAD!!! he has three girls, and he learned how to braid hair so he could brush and delicately braid theirs. most of the time, however, he found himself being the one getting his hair braided rather than doing the braiding. his daughters absolutely adore playing with his locks. one day, one of them suggested they start a braid train, and he spent the entire hour trying not to let out any sounds of discomfort as his 7-year-old daughter pulled on his hair, clumsily trying to make a ponytail.

• he frequently invites katniss and peeta over. his girls adore baking sweet treats with peeta and enjoy playing with the small wooden bow and arrow toys gifted by katniss. she mentions that when they are old enough, she can teach them how to hunt. his heart almost leaps out of his chest at the thought of his children venturing into the woods, vulnerable to the dangerous flora and fauna. 

• his little family is what he holds dearest to his heart. they are what keeps him going after a tumultuous life. some days, he questions whether he deserves them, asking the gods the reason for blessing him with a beautiful family. yet, the grounded part of his mind silences those thoughts, reminding him to do his best to be a fully present father, and ensuring his kids don’t miss out on anything.

[reds-fluff-extravaganza]

Undertaker x reader

Requested over on ao3!

Running… it’s all you’ve been doing for what felt like ages, just running from this entity that’s been following you. You don’t know what it wants, or what it truly looks like, but it wants something from you, yet you’re not sure what, nor did you want to know.

You were suddenly stopped in your tracks as you bumped into something, making you fall back and onto the ground. You looked up to see the entity in front of you, staring at you with pale red eyes. Your eyes widened as you backed away, yet the entity followed, and the next thing you knew, everything went dark…

You sat up, eyes wide with fear. You wanted to scream, but nothing came out. You immediately looked around the room, slowly calming down but your heart was still pounding.

“Another nightmare…” you sighed softly and looked beside you, not seeing Undertaker beside you. You figured he must have fallen asleep elsewhere, or still awake. You got out of bed, slipping on your slippers before leaving the room.

Nightmares were not a common thing for you, but as of late, you’ve been having fairly bad experiences with them. You don’t really remember much aside from running away from some evil looking shadow entity, as cliche as that sounds. You don’t know what’s causing it, or why you’re having this similar dream over and over, but it’s getting annoying real fast.

“Undertaker?” You called out as you walked down the hallway, but not getting any response. “Hmm..” you kept walking down the hallway, until you walked into another room, which had a few coffins around, a couple on the walls, and one smack dab in the middle of the room.

“Even when he’s not working, he’s got them around.” You shook your head, chuckling a bit in amusement as you made your way to the coffin in the middle of the room.

“I figured I would find you here, sleeping like the dead.” You looked down to find Undertaker asleep in the coffin. You nudged him, attempting to wake him, but no response.

“Geez, you really are dead asleep,” you then proceeded to climb into the coffin with him, now lying on top of him. After a moment of silence, you heard him chuckle, him now wrapping his arms around you.

“…were you awake this whole time?”

“No, I was awake when I heard your little joke,”

“Of course that would wake you up.” You playfully rolled your eyes.

“So. What brings you to my coffin, my sweet Y/n?”

“I… had a nightmare. Again.”

“Again?” You could’ve sworn you heard a faint hint of surprise and concern in his voice, but you shrugged it off.

“Yeah…”

“Would you like to talk about it?”

“Well, I don’t remember much aside from running from this weird shadow entity that always seems to catch up with me regardless of what I do. That’s when I wake up, when it catches me.”

“How… eerie. Is that it?”

“Yeah, that’s all i remember, unfortunately. Do you have any idea what it could mean..?”

“I have absolutely no idea, my dear.” Undertaker shrugged, taking a moment to think about it… before shaking his head. “Unless… it may be you being afraid of death? Possibly? Since you said it always catches up to you in the end.”

“That is terrifying to think about, thanks.”

“Anytime, Y/n.” He chuckled a bit, now running his fingers through your hair, which felt nice. You sighed softly in content, resting your head on his chest, feeling his long nails gently scratching your scalp, him being careful not to hurt you as he did so.

“…I’m sorry to have woken you up.”

“Don’t be, I’m here whenever you need me, regardless of what time it is, or what it is.”

“Thank you.” You leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“You’re welcome, Y/n.” Everything was silent for a few moments, before you spoke up

“Undertaker?”

“Hmm?”

“Why are you sleeping in a coffin?”

“Do you even need to ask, my dear? I got comfortable and fell asleep.”

“Of course you did. That would explain why you weren’t in bed.”

“Did you want to move back to the bedroom?”

“No, no, I’m comfortable now.”

“Get some rest now, Y/n, and I’ll be here if you have another nightmare. Alright?”

“Okay, okay.” You nodded, closing your eyes, eventually falling asleep as Undertaker continued playing with your hair. He continued doing so until you fell asleep. He leaned closer and kissed your forehead, his arms moved to keep you close to him.

“Sleep well, my dear Y/n.”

[egnidres]

So that's the birthday present for @zu-is-here. Happy birthday again (๑•́ ω •̀๑)

✾❦

"Please," Cross pleaded.

His lavender tears flowed in torrents, unable to resist the urge to come out of their hiding place. They crashed into a part of his lover's shoulder, which was shaking with pain. Or maybe it was only the tremors of the former guard who was unable to calm his growing anxiety.

For his part, Dream was covered with apple blossoms, appearing at the ends of his gloves and long dark sleeves, like a cruel light in infinite darkness or a vain hope in total despair, which would eventually fade and break, taking everything with it. His eye sockets were not spared from these parasites, his left eye being destroyed by the liquid of the negative feelings that covered it and his right eye being devoured by the budding buds.

None of this should have worried or frightened Killer. Yet, his feelings were all about fear. He had always not cared about Dream or Cross, being only adversaries or shipmates before they became traitors. But strangely, without even being able to explain it, he was afraid of what would happen next, which he guessed would be worse than the twins' curse.

" I can't help you. You should leave now. "

Lying did not displease the skeleton, who always preferred to hide his true intentions, reasons and emotions. If they let them through, what would happen to Nightmare? Surely they would do nothing to destroy him at the time, so they could save the broken dream. But once done, they could very well eliminate the negative, being one of Dream's basic goals since his transformation. He was the only one who had taken him under his wing, who had never betrayed him, and who had always stood by him. He couldn't abandon him after all that had happened.

" Please let us through. We need to see Nightmare, we won't do anything against you, I promise. I'll do anything you want if you save him. "

The tearful man suppressed a grimace. Cross begging for their help, to the point of offering to do anything to get him... even in his wildest dreams he would never have thought it possible. Strangely, and without even knowing why, he felt bad to see him like this; going from a powerful and proud opponent, to a mere skeleton shaking and crying like a poor terrified little child.

"Let them pass, Killer," a voice behind him intervened.

He saw the former guardian moving toward his brother, and though he longed to hold him back, he did not. He had already made his decision, and despite all of Killer's arguments, he would not change his mind. He looked away, bending to his will.

"You remember where the rooms are, I guess. Take him to one of them. I'll go see him when he wakes up. "

The monochrome thanked his former boss, before leaving quickly. The one-eyed skeleton sighed before turning back to Killer, crossing his arms, his hands clutching the purple cloth.

" I already told you to let them pass."

" I didn't want you to be in danger, we didn't know if they would kill you as soon as they saw you."

" This story has been going on for over 500 years. It has to end, no matter what. Especially since I'm the one who started it all. "

Killer tucked his knife into his jacket pocket, before inhaling painfully, his throat tight. He knew that his boss was right, everything had to end now, but he didn't want it to be the way he wanted it, not with his sacrifice. So he proposed an idea that a part of his mind strangely repulsed:

"What if we end it differently than your idea. If you don't sacrifice yourself, it could very well be Dream who does. I mean, he's suffering because of the flowers growing on him, it would just be a favour to finish him off. And as far as I know he always wanted to save you, even if it meant putting himself in danger. "

" I'm disappointed in you for thinking that it can and should end like this. "

Nightmare seemed offended by his former subordinate's words, and decided to leave the room, walking away from him.

"To me, it's just as shocking as your idea of sacrificing yourself like that," he whispered into the now empty room.

Dream began to emerge from sleep, moving his head slightly. He knew he was no longer at home, and he could tell by his brother's feelings that he was in his brother's mansion. He tried to sit up when he felt something in his hand. Even though he couldn't see, he knew it was Cross' hand, which must have fallen asleep from all the stress of the last few days.

He waited quietly for his lover to wake up, enjoying the calmness of the monochrome's feelings, which had long since stopped being so peaceful. He moved his ring with his thumb, making it gently strike his knuckles, before changing direction. Cross began to wake up in turn, rising from the bed with a soft yawn. When he noticed that the other was up, he asked hastily:

" Are you comfortable? Do you want some more pillows or to sit up maybe? Or something else?"

"No, I'm fine, don't worry about it."

"Are you feeling better? Are you feeling less pain?"

" It's better. It's less painful than before."

The pain was there, throbbing, like someone having fun burning his bones in places while staying on them for a long time to make it worse. He wasn't desperately wanting and trying to tear them out like before, but it wasn't going away either. He took advantage of this moment of respite, if it could be called that, and talked about everything and nothing with his lover.

The latter reluctantly decided to leave him alone and get something to eat when his stomach and that of his lover protested. As he began to close the door, he saw Nightmare arrive silently, quietly asking if his brother was still asleep, lest he wake him by barging into the room. The monochrome smiled at him before answering in the negative, leaving the door open again, and leaving more serenely. The elder brother hesitated for a few moments before taking a deep breath and taking the first step into the room.

"Hello, Dream," he began.

"Relax a little," his brother reassured him.

" I'm perfectly relaxed."

The positive man seemed to look at him before smiling broadly and adding:

" I bet you have your arms crossed. You cross them all the time when you're uncomfortable or have too many feelings that bother you, as if you wanted to protect yourself with your arms as armour. I'm surprised you never use your tentacles like that."

"That's not true."

When he said this in an indignant voice, he uncrossed his arms and let them fall down his body, letting a discreet noise of moving clothes be heard. This action made his brother laugh, as he had heard and guessed his posture without any difficulty. Nightmare, for his part, moved closer to the bed before sitting down on the edge, beginning to knead his hands nervously.

"Is that all of Killer left? The others are gone," his brother asked.

" They've decided that their home worlds are probably not as bad as the end of this story is likely to be. I understand them, it's better, it ends well in some way for them. "

"And for you?"

"... It's better for everyone."

It didn't matter how he felt, not when he had been so horrible and manipulative to them. He'd been lucky that none of them had tried to kill him, and that Killer had decided to stay. He'd felt the latter's feelings; fear at seeing his boss's partly cracked face, incomprehension at the other skeletons' choice, only to end in a more neutral, deeper feeling. He wasn't so stupid as to not know what that feeling was, let alone to know that it wasn't like when he controlled his soul like a pawn.

He was not in control of anything, and that terrified him. But was he in control of anything at all? Before his transformation, he was just a victim unable to protect himself, mistreated by the villagers and the fate that was bearing down on him. When he had eaten most of the apples on the tree, he had promised himself that he would never be a victim of that fate again. He would destroy anyone who dared to take him back to that state or who knew nothing of the pain he had felt and continued to feel.

His brother was the first to try to " recover " him. It was at this point that he was most angry with him. He didn't understand, he couldn't understand, and that made him mad as hell. He had wanted to break that hope, not his brother. But he hadn't noticed that it was the other feelings of positivity that he had destroyed without any consideration.

He didn't notice his unhappiness, or rather he didn't want to notice it. He just wanted to control everything so he would never be the victim again. But instead, he had let his brother eat the black apple, he had let him suffer to his breaking point without any consideration for him, and he had given up and decided to run away when he had changed. Just as he had tried to escape this situation 500 years ago with the ebony apples.

"Night, calm down!"

His brother tentatively grabbed his wrist, pulling his hands away from each other. He hadn't noticed that his breathing had become more and more laboured, nor that he had scratched his palms and the backs of his hands to blood. It took him a long time to regain a steady breath, his hands shaking helplessly. When he managed to calm down, he stammered:

" I'm sorry for everything. It's my fault you're in this state. I'm the one who ate the first apple, I'm the one who destroyed your feelings and convictions without any remorse. It's my fault that you felt the need to see what I was feeling so that you could understand and help me. I don't even know how to save you from what's happening to you. I really am the worst big brother."

" Don't blame yourself for this, it's not your fault. I'm the one who made the choice and did it. And we were just kids at the time, you can't blame yourself for trying to change things. Especially since I should have seen your discomfort too. The main thing is not all the bad things we did, but how we try to change things for the better."

" ...These flowers are connected to your positive and negative feelings," Nightmare reminded, trying to change the conversation. "Both of them are trying to regain control in some way, so in order to stop all that, you have to stop their war of dominance. My negative feelings can decrease your negative feelings or increase them depending on what you want or need, until you can process them normally. I will take care of the excess negative feelings, but we have to find a way to destroy the negative effects of the black apple."

" We'll do it, don't worry."

The ex guard went into the kitchen, trying to think of what would be good for his lover, hesitating between a hot meal, or a lighter one. Both had their advantages, but he couldn't put a simple decision on it.

"So, have you finally decided to come here? Or maybe he ordered you to leave because he was tired of seeing you around."

The razor-sharp words and Killer's dark smile effectively hit their target: Cross. The latter seemed to tense up, his jaw tensing and his knuckles digging into his palms.

"Why won't you leave me alone? I didn't do anything to you."

"You didn't do anything? You're starting to have the same memory as Ink. Or maybe you're so stupid that even she decided to leave."

" What are you after? Always provoking you will eventually get the backlash. And for what? Just to piss off the world, to reach the limit, and to see the anger in the eyes of those you piss off. The Killer I knew knew where to stop at least."

Killer's sadistic laughter echoed around the room, before calming down, leaving only a sneer stretching his lips.

" The Killer you knew? But you never knew him. You never knew me. And do you know why? Because all you've ever cared about is yourself. Only YOU, only YOUR emotions, only YOUR wishes are important to you. No one is ever interesting enough for you to care about. You're just selfish."

Tears appeared in the corners of Cross's eye sockets, unobtrusive, but glistening slightly in the light of the sunny day. The skeleton with the ringed soul drew closer before adding:

"Aww, the guard who considered himself powerful and able to solve all problems by himself is crying. Do you want a handkerchief maybe? Such a shame I don't have one, don't you think? You know what they call people like you? Self-centred. Just like Error, you're no better than him. But if I understand correctly you inherited it from your Gaster. We can't expect you to be different, after all, like father like son."

The monochrome slammed him hard against the wall, his forearm latching onto the other skeleton's windpipe, exerting a pressure that was oddly mild compared to his anger. His pupils were now just two red balls, and his cheeks were covered in the same dark tears as the tearful one. The latter was not the least bit frightened or impressed, his smile stretching even further.

"What are you waiting for ? You want to hit me, I can see it a mile away. Come on punch, you know it feels good, you've felt it before when slaughtering people from other universes. Eh. And then it's self-proclaimed guard. So pathetic.

"All you want to do is destroy the people closest to you, opposed Cross. You say I'm self-centred, but you're no better. All you care about is the pleasure you get from the pain you cause them. You just need to hurt them to feel like you don't care and that your actions mattered to someone for once. You just need to feel like you exist because of all the new words and actions you do, regardless of anyone else. You just need-"

"I just needed you. I just needed you to stay or tell me to my face why you decided to leave. I needed to understand what had gone so wrong."

Killer's scream echoed around the room, startling them both. He didn't want to give him that confession, he didn't want to show how weak he'd been for giving Cross his trust. He didn't want to show how hurt he had been by his abandonment. Yet his aching soul had decided otherwise, as if the other skeleton's words had cut him thin and deep, when he wasn't supposed to care about his opinion. Why hadn't he managed to make fun of it as usual?

" Killer," Cross tried.

His interlocutor pushed him with all his strength, making him almost lose his balance, having to step back to avoid falling. Taking advantage of his distance, he left quickly, not wanting to face him anymore. He was tired of his feelings taking over. He was tired of not being able to not care about everything around him like he used to. He was tired of not understanding the mess that was his feelings.

He went into his room, closing the door as quickly as possible as if he was afraid the other had followed him. He moved towards the door of his bathroom, only to stop when one of his two cats came towards him, already demanding to be petted. At his cat's silent command, he sat quietly cross-legged on the floor, letting it settle comfortably on his legs.

His soul was deformed, so much so that one could hardly differentiate white from red. He hadn't even noticed that his black tears had started to flow when he was in the kitchen, and had remained even now, though they created a much smaller wake. He tried to find the other cat with his eyes, and saw it on his bed, sleeping peacefully.

Soft sounds were heard against the door, and thinking it was Cross, he decided not to answer, not wanting to see him at all. He knew that Cross would try to talk to him about what he had said, wanting to understand and help him. But he was not yet ready to show that part of himself. Not with him. The door opened quietly, revealing Nightmare. He sat down next to the other cat, making it move in its sleep.

" I told him to go back to my brother and give him his food. "

He knew who he was talking about, suspecting that Cross had discussed it with him, probably for fear of having done something wrong that he already regretted. A spike of pain struck his soul, which aware of the pain he had done to the monochrome suddenly twisted more than it had before. He didn't want to hurt him or make him regret his decision. After all, he had seen him with Dream before his corruption. He'd seen him happy and even though it had hurt him to not be the source of his happiness, he'd been glad to see him like this.

Nightmare sighed before moving closer to him and crouching down in front of him. He wiped away his former subordinate's tears with his sleeve, staining it black, before gently declaring:

"You don't need to feel so much guilt. If you really regret what you tell to him, you just have to talk to him, but you also have to stop repressing your emotions. Your soul will always hurt you because of it. Talk to him and talk to Dream, things that stay on your heart are not good things. "

Then he left, leaving him to think about it quietly. He went to his brother's room, before entering it and asking to speak to the monochrome, who reluctantly accepted, following him into the living room, which was one of the closest rooms.

Killer walked out of his room, before heading to the room where the positive was. He entered the room, surprised at the absence of the monochrome, before slumping down on the seat the latter had set up. He began to play with his knife, occupying his hands and trying not to feel all the feelings that were flooding into him, trying to annihilate them as much as possible.

" Hi Killer."

Dream's calm voice rose, deeper than before his transformation and filled with hidden pain. The maudlin man smiled his usual fake smile, before standing up and pointing his weapon at the other skeleton, touching the latter's throat but making no move to hurt him. He looked at it, feeling as calm as if he were standing in front of a fire in a fireplace, listening to the sound of the crackling flames and watching their controlled dance. Strangely, the knife began to tremble and slowly lower. Sadness was the first feeling he felt at that moment. Then anger and resentment. It was not directed at the gardian, but at himself. He didn't understand why, but for the first time in years, he felt pity for him and was unable to do what he wanted to do. He just wanted it all to change, but part of his soul was looking forward to it. Part of his soul didn't want to kill him.

" Why do I hesitate? Why didn't I dare do this? We haven't found a way to save you yet. It would just be doing you a favor. You wouldn't suffer anymore, and yet I can't. "

" Sometimes it's the choices that feel right that hurt the most. You've changed, Killer. You are able to feel compassion again, you are able to feel emotions again. You may not be able to understand or process them all yet, but you will one day. "

" What makes you think I won't kill you? I hesitated to kill my brother once, and yet I did it. What makes you think I won't do the same to you? "

" Your feelings tell me. I'm glad at least I could see the change in you. I know that one day you'll be able to heal all your wounds, even if it takes time. "

The blind man's sincere and radiant smile finally got the better of his interlocutor. The latter lowered his weapon completely, his tears flowed abundantly, black in his right eye socket, and translucent on the left, where his white pupil was visible. He added in a broken voice:

" I don't want to kill you, but I don't want to see you suffer either. I'm just an idiot."

" It's okay. Everything is going to be okay. "

As he said these words, the positive took the other skeleton's hand. The latter sat down on the bed and hugged him, unable to control his sobs. Dream returned his embrace, his flower-covered eye socket flooded with tears.

The other two skeletons, Cross and Nightmare, looked on, their throats tight. As complicated as it had been for both of them, especially for the monochrome, they had let Killer do as he pleased, not entirely sure if he would decide to spare him.

Several days passed, the twins tried to calm the growth of the flowers with the negativity of the elder, taking as much as possible from his brother. At first, the result was inconclusive, if not the opposite. The flowers didn't grow anymore, but the ones already there burned even more Dream, to the point that Cross begged the negative to stop in the face of his lover's screams of pain, starting to threaten him when he didn't stop. Killer had reacted at this point, quickly pulling him away.

When he had finished, Dream had noticed that the pain had dropped drastically, as if it had returned to where it had started, as if it were a slight burn. Then after a few days, they noticed that no more plants were growing. The ones that were left gradually began to wither, and one by one they began to fall off, taking the pain with them.

The negativity flowed away as well, due to the guardian now being able to deal with his negative feelings better, leaving his left eye socket cracked and visible. His right eye socket was cleared of parasites, his pupil no longer able to see properly from a distance.

Killer avoided Cross as much as possible, not wanting to talk about what was on his mind. Or rather, not being able to put words to it. But his friend's efforts to reassure him gradually began to bear fruit. He wasn't yet at the point where he could trust him with his soul like he had with Nightmare, but he was getting better at not trying to hurt him with his words whenever he tried to find out how he was or wanted time with him.

Even though Nightmare was trying to keep everyone away from him at times, probably because of his negative feelings or because of his remorse, he was glad that the people most important to him had decided to stay close to him.

✾❦

— Pitié, implora Cross.

Ses larmes lavandes coulaient à torrent, incapable de résister à cette envie de sortir de leur cachette. Elles se fracassèrent sur une partie de l’épaule de son amant, qui tremblait de douleur. Ou peut-être était-ce seulement les tremblements de l’ancien garde qui était incapable de calmer son anxiété croissante.

Dream quant à lui, était recouvert de fleurs de pommier, apparaissant aux extrémités de ses gants et ses longues manches sombres, comme une cruelle lumière dans des ténèbres infinies ou un espoir vain dans le désespoir le plus total, qui finirait par s’éteindre et se briser, emportant tout dans son fracas. Ses orbites n’étaient pas épargnées de ces parasites, son œil gauche étant détruit par le liquide des sentiments négatifs qui le recouvrer et son œil droit dévoré par les bourgeons naissants.

Rien de tout ça aurait dû inquiéter ou effrayer Killer. Pourtant, ses sentiments n’étaient tournés que sur la peur. Il s’était toujours moquer de Dream ou Cross, n’étant que des adversaires ou des compagnons de bord avant de devenir des traîtres. Mais bizarrement, sans même pouvoir l’expliquer, il avait peur de la suite qu’il devinait être pire que la malédiction des jumeaux.

— Je ne peux pas vous aider. Vous devriez partir maintenant.

Mentir ne déplaisait pas au squelette, qui préférait toujours cacher ses véritables intentions, raisons et émotions. S’ils les laissaient passer, qu’adviendra-t-il de Nightmare ? Ils ne feront sûrement rien pour le détruire sur le moment, pour pouvoir sauver le rêve brisé. Mais une fois fait, ils pourraient très bien éliminer le négatif, étant l’un des objectifs de base de Dream depuis sa transformation. Il était le seul à l’avoir pris sous son aile, à ne l’avoir jamais trahi, et à être toujours rester à ses côtés. Il ne pouvait pas l’abandonner à son tour après tout ce qui s’était passer.

— S’il te plaît laisse-nous passer. On a besoin de voir Nightmare, on ne fera rien contre vous, je te le promets. Je ferais tout ce que vous désirez si vous le sauver.

Le larmoyant réprima une grimace. Cross qui implorait leur aide, au point de proposer de faire n’importe quoi pour l’avoir… même dans ses rêves les plus fous il n’aurait jamais pensé ça possible. Bizarrement, et sans même pouvoir savoir pourquoi, il se sentait mal de le voir comme ça ; passer d’un adversaire puissant et fier, à un simple squelette tremblant et pleurant comme un pauvre petit enfant terrifié.

— Laisse-les passer Killer, intervint une voix derrière lui.

Il vit l’ancien gardien se dirigeait vers son frère, et même s’il désirait ardemment le retenir, il n’en fis rien. Il avait déjà pris sa décision, et malgré tout les arguments de Killer, il ne changeait pas d’avis. Il détourna son regard, se pliant à sa volonté.

— Tu te souviens où sont les chambres je suppose. Emmène le dans l’une d’elle. J’irai le voir lorsqu’il sera réveiller.

Le monochrome remercia son ancien boss, avant de partir rapidement. Le squelette borgne quant à lui soupira avant de se retourner vers Killer, croisant ses bras, ses mains serrant le tissu violet.

— Je t’avais déjà dit de les laissait passer.

— Je ne voulais pas que tu soit en danger, on ne savait pas s’ils n’allaient pas te tuer dès qu’ils te verraient.

— Cette histoire dure depuis plus de 500 ans. Il faut qu’elle se termine, peu importe comment. D’autant plus que c’est par ma faute que tout cela a commencé.

Killer rangea son couteau dans la poche de son blouson, avant d’inspirer douloureusement, sa gorge serré. Il savait que son boss avait raison, tout devait se terminer maintenant, mais il ne voulait pas que se soit comme il le voulait, pas avec son sacrifice. Alors il proposa une idée qu’une partie de son esprit répugnait étrangement :

— Et si on la terminait autrement que ton idée. Si tu ne te sacrifie pas, ça pourrait très bien être Dream qui le fais. Je veux dire, il souffre à cause de ses fleurs qui pousse sur lui, ce serait juste lui rendre service de l’achever. Et à ce que je sache il a toujours voulu te sauver, quitte à se mettre en danger pour ça.

— Tu me déçois de penser que ça peux et dois se terminer comme ça.

Nightmare sembla offusqué par les paroles de son ancien subordonné, et décida de partir de la pièce, s’éloignant de lui.

— Pour moi, c’est tout aussi choquant que ton idée de te sacrifier comme ça, chuchota-t-il dans la pièce dorénavant vide.

Dream commença à émerger du sommeil, bougeant légèrement la tête. Il savait qu’il n’était plus chez lui, et il pouvait savoir grâce aux sentiments de son frère qu’il était dans le manoir de ce dernier. Il tenta de se redresser quand il senti qu’il tenait quelque chose dans la main. Même s’il ne pouvait pas voir, il savait que c’était la main de Cross, qui avait dû s’assoupir à cause de tout le stress des derniers jours accumulé.

Il attendit tranquillement que son amant se réveille, profitant du calme des sentiments du monochrome, qui avait depuis longtemps arrêté d’être aussi apaisé. Il bougea sa bague avec son pouce, la faisant doucement heurter ses phalanges, avant de changer de sens. Cross commença à se réveiller à son tour, se relevant du lit en bayant doucement. Lorsqu’il remarqua que l’autre était debout, il demanda précipitamment :

— Est-ce que tu es bien installé ? Tu veux un peu plus d’oreillers ou te redresser peut-être ? Ou quelque chose d’autre ?

— Non, ça va ne t’en fais pas.

— Est-ce que tu vas mieux ? Tu as moins mal ?

— Ça va mieux. C’est moins douloureux que tout à l’heure.

La douleur était là, lancinante, comme quelqu’un s’amusant à brûler ses os par endroit tout en restant longtemps dessus pour aggraver son ressenti. Il n’en était pas à vouloir et essayer absolument de les arracher comme tout à l’heure, mais elle ne partait pas non plus. Il profitait de ce moment de répit, si on pouvait l’appeler ainsi, et parla de tout et de rien avec son amant.

Ce dernier décida à contre-coeur de le laisser seul et de chercher à manger lorsque son estomac et celui de son amant protestèrent. Lorsqu’il commença à fermer la porte, il vit Nightmare arriver silencieusement, demandant doucement si son frère dormait encore, de peur de le réveiller en faisant irruption dans la chambre. Le monochrome lui sourit avant de lui répondre à la négative, laissant de nouveau la porte ouverte, et de partir plus serein. L’aîné, quant à lui, hésita quelques instants avant de prendre une grande inspiration en faisant le premier pas dans la pièce.

— Bonjour Dream, commença-t-il.

— Détend-toi un peu, le rassura son frère.

— Je suis parfaitement détendu.

Le positif sembla le regarder avant de sourire de toutes ses dents en ajoutant :

— Tu as les bras croisés je pari. Tu les croises tout le temps quand tu es mal à l’aise ou que tu ressens trop de sentiments qui te dérange, comme si tu voulais te protéger avec tes bras comme armure. Ça m’étonne d’ailleurs que tu n’es jamais utilisé tes tentacules de cet manière.

— C’est pas vrai.

Lorsqu’il prononça ses paroles d’une voix offensée, il décroisa les bras les laissant retomber le long de son corps, laissant entendre un discret bruit de vêtement en mouvement. Cet action fit rigoler son frère, qui avait très bien entendu et deviné sa posture sans aucune difficulté. Nightmare, quant à lui, se rapprocha du lit avant de s’assoir sur le bord, commençant à malaxait nerveusement ses mains.

— Il ne reste plus que Killer ? Les autres sont partis, demanda son frère.

— Ils ont décidé que leurs univers de base était sûrement moins pire que ce que risquait d’être la fin de cette histoire. Je les comprends, c’est mieux, ça se termine bien d’une certaine manière pour eux.

— Et pour toi ?

— … C’est mieux pour tout le monde.

Son ressenti n’avait pas d’importance, pas quand il avait été aussi horrible et manipulateur envers eux. Il avait été chanceux qu’aucun d’eux n’essaye de le tuer, et que Killer décide de rester. Il avait ressenti les sentiments de ce dernier ; de la peur en voyant le visage en parti fissuré de son boss, l’incompréhension du choix des autres squelettes, pour ensuite se terminer en un sentiment plus neutre, plus profond. Il n’était pas idiot au point de ne pas savoir ce que ce sentiment était, et encore moins pour savoir que se n’était pas comme quand il contrôlait son âme comme un pion.

Il ne contrôlait plus rien, et cela le terrifiait. Mais est-ce qu’il contrôlait quelque chose de base ? Avant sa transformation, il étais juste une victime incapable de se protéger, maltraiter par les villageois et le destin qui s’acharner sur lui. Quand il avait mangé presque toutes les pommes de l’arbre, il s’était juré ne plus jamais être la victime de ce destin. Il allait détruire toutes les personnes qui oserait le ramener à cet état ou qui ne connaissais rien à la douleur qui avait ressenti et continuait de ressentir.

Son frère fut le premier à essayer de le « retrouver ». C’est à ce moment-là qu’il lui en avait le plus voulu. Il ne comprenait pas, il ne pouvait pas comprendre, et ça l’énervait au plus haut point. Il avait voulu briser cet espoir, pas son frère. Mais il n’avait pas remarquer que c’était les autres sentiments du positif qu’il avait détruit sans aucune considération.

Il n’avait pas remarquer son mal-être, ou plutôt il n’avait pas voulu le remarquer. Il voulait juste tout contrôler pour ne plus jamais être la victime. Mais au lieu de ça, il avait laisser son frère manger la pomme noire, il l’avait laisser souffrir jusqu’à son point de rupture sans aucune considération pour lui, et il avait laisser tomber en décidant de fuir quand il avait changé. Exactement comme il avait essayer de fuir cet situation il y a de 500 ans avec les pommes ébènes.

— Night calme-toi !

Son frère lui pris à tâtons le poignet, éloignant ses mains l’une de l’autre. Il n’avait pas remarquer que sa respiration était devenue de plus en plus saccadée, ni qu’il s’était griffait à sang ses paumes et le dos de ses mains. Il prit un temps considérable à reprendre une respiration stable, ses mains tremblantes sans qu’il puisse les calmer. Lorsqu’il arriva à se calmer, il bredouilla :

— Je suis désolé pour tout. C’est de ma faute si tu es dans cet état. C’est moi qui ai mangé la première pomme, c’est moi qui ai détruit tes sentiments et convictions sans aucun remord. C’est de ma faute si tu as ressenti le besoin de voir ce que je ressentais pour pouvoir me comprendre et m’aider. Je ne sais même pas comment faire pour te sauver de ce qui t’arrives. Je suis vraiment le pire des grands frères.

— Ne te blâme pas pour ça, ce n’est pas de ta faute. C’est moi qui est pris ce choix et qui l’ai fais. Et nous étions que des enfants à l’époque tu ne peux pas t’en vouloir d’avoir essayer de changer les choses. D’autant plus que j’aurais aussi dû voir ton mal-être. Le principal ce n’est pas toutes les mauvaises actions qu’on a fait, mais comment nous essayons de changer les choses pour le mieux.

— …Ses fleurs sont reliés à tes sentiments positifs et négatifs, rappela Nightmare en essayant de changer de conversation. Les deux essaient de reprendre le contrôle d’une certaine manière, alors pour pouvoir arrêter tous cela, il faut pouvoir arrêter leur guerre de dominance. Mes sentiments négatifs peuvent diminuer tes sentiments négatifs ou les augmenter selon ce que tu désires ou selon ce que tu as besoin, jusqu’à ce que tu puisse les assimiler normalement. Je m’occuperai du surplus de sentiments négatifs, mais il faut qu’on trouve un moyen détruire les effets néfastes de la pomme noire.

— On y arrivera, ne t’en fais pas.

L’ancien garde rentra dans la cuisine, essayant de réfléchir à ce qui pourrait être bien pour son amant, hésitant entre un repas chaud, ou un repas plus léger. Les deux avait des avantages, mais il ne n’arrivait pas à mettre une simple décision dessus.

— Alors, tu as enfin décider de venir ici ? Ou alors il t’as peut-être ordonner de partir parce qu’il en avait marre de te voir autour de lui.

Les mots aussi tranchants qu’un rasoir accompagné du sourire sombre de Killer frappèrent avec efficacité sa cible : Cross. Ce dernier semblait se tendre, sa mâchoire se crispant, de même que ses phalanges qui se plantèrent dans ses paumes.

— Pourquoi tu ne me laisse pas tranquille. Je ne t’ai rien fais.

— Tu n’as rien fais ? Tu commence à avoir la même mémoire qu’Ink dis donc. Ou peut-être que tu es tellement stupide que même elle a décider de se barrer.

— Tu cherche quoi ? À toujours provoquer tu vas finir par avoir le retour du bâton. Et tout ça pour quoi ? Juste pour faire chier le monde, atteindre les limites, et voir la colère dans les yeux de ceux que tu emmerde. Le Killer que je connaissais savait où s’arrêter au moins.

Le rire sadique de Killer s’éleva dans la pièce, avant de se calmer, ne laissant qu’un rictus étiré ses lèvres.

— Le Killer que tu connaissais ? Mais tu ne l’a jamais connu. Tu ne m’as jamais connu. Et tu sais pourquoi ? Parce que ce qui t’as toujours intéressé est ta petite personne. Seulement TOI, seulement TES émotions, seulement TES souhaits ont de l’importance à tes yeux. Personne n’est jamais assez intéressant pour que tu puisse t’y intéresser. Tu n’es qu’un égoïste.

Des larmes apparaissaient aux coins des orbites de Cross, discrètes, mais brillant légèrement à la lumière de la journée ensoleillée. Le squelette à l’âme cerclée se rapprocha avant d’ajouter :

— Aww, le garde qui se considérait comme puissant et capable de résoudre tout les problèmes par lui-même pleure. Tu veux un mouchoir peut-être ? Tellement dommage que j’en ai pas, tu ne trouve pas ? Tu sais comment on appelle les personnes comme toi ? Des égocentriques. Juste comme Error, tu vaux pas mieux que lui. Mais si j’ai bien compris tu l’as hérité de ton Gaster. On peut pas te demander d’être différent, après tout, tel père tel fils.

Le monochrome le plaqua violemment contre le mur, son avant-bras se logeant contre la trachée de l’autre squelette, exerçant une pression bizarrement assez légère par rapport à sa colère. Ses pupilles n’étais plus que deux billes rouges, et ses joues étaient recouvert des mêmes larmes sombres que le larmoyant. Ce dernier n’était pas le moins du monde effrayé ou impressionné, son sourire s’étirant encore plus.

— Qu’est-ce que tu attends, tu as envie de me frapper, ça se voit à des kilomètres. Allez frappe, tu sais que ça fais du bien, tu l’as déjà ressenti en massacrant les personnes d’autres univers. Hé. Et après ça s’auto-proclame garde. Tellement pathétique.

— Tout ce que tu cherche, c’est de détruire les personnes proche de toi, contra Cross. Tu dis que je suis égocentrique, mais tu n’es pas mieux. Tout ce qui t’intéresse est le plaisir que te procure la souffrance que tu leur causes. Tu as juste besoin de les blesser pour avoir l’impression que tu te fiche de tout et que tes actions ont eu de l’importance sur quelqu’un pour une fois. Tu as juste besoin de te sentir exister grâce à toutes ces paroles et ces actions nouvelles que tu fais, sans considération pour quiconque. Tu as juste besoin-

— J’avais juste besoin de toi. J’avais juste besoin que tu reste ou tu me dises en face pourquoi tu avais décidé de partir. J’avais besoin de comprendre ce qui avait aussi mal tourné.

Le cri de Killer s’éleva dans toute la pièce, les surprenant tout les deux. Il ne voulais pas lui faire ses aveux-là, il ne voulais pas montrer à quelle point il avais été faible d’avoir donner sa confiance à Cross. Il ne voulait pas montrer à quel point il avait été blesser par son abandon. Pourtant son âme douloureuse en avait décidé autrement, comme si les paroles de l’autre squelette l’avais finement et profondément coupée, alors qu’il étais supposé se ficher de son avis. Pourquoi n’avait-il pas réussi à s’en moquer comme à son habitude ?

— Killer, tenta Cross.

Son interlocuteur le poussa de toute ses forces, le faisant presque perdre l’équilibre, devant reculer pour ne pas tomber. Profitant de sa distance, il partit rapidement, ne voulant plus lui faire face. Il en avait marre de ses sentiments qui prenait le dessus. Il en avait marre de ne plus réussir à se moquer de tout ce qui l’entourait comme avant. Il en avait marre de ne pas comprendre tout ce bordel qu’était ses sentiments.

Killer rentra dans sa chambre, fermant la porte le plus rapidement possible comme s’il avait peur que l’autre l’aies suivi. Il se rapprocha de la porte de sa salle de bain, avant de s’arrêter lorsque l’un de ses deux chats arriva vers lui, réclamant déjà des caresses. Devant l’ordre silencieux de son animal, il s’assit tranquillement en tailleur au sol, le laissant s’installer confortablement sur ses jambes.

Son âme était difforme, à telle point que l’on ne pouvait presque plus distinguer le blanc du rouge. Il n’avais même remarquer que ses larmes noires avaient commencé à couler lorsqu’il était dans la cuisine, et qu’elles étaient restées encore maintenant, même si elles créaient un sillage beaucoup moins important. Il essaya de trouver l’autre chat du regard, et le vit sur son lit, en train de dormir paisiblement.

Des sons discrets se fis entendre contre la porte, et croyant que c’était Cross, il décida de ne pas répondre, le voulant plus du tout le voir. Il savait que ce dernier essayerait de lui parler de se qu’il avait dit, voulant le comprendre et l’aider. Mais lui n’était pas encore prêt à montrer cette partie de lui-même. Pas avec lui. La porte s’ouvrît discrètement, révélant Nightmare. Il s’assit à côté de l’autre chat, le faisant bouger dans son sommeil.

— Je lui ai dit de retourner voir mon frère et de lui donner son repas.

Il savait de qui il parlait, se doutant que Cross en aies discuter avec lui, sûrement de peur d’avoir fait quelque chose de mal qu’il regrettait déjà. Un pic de douleur frappa son âme, qui consciente du mal qu’il avait fait au monochrome s’était soudain tordu plus qu’elle ne l’était avant. Il ne voulait pas le blesser ou lui faire regretter sa décision. Après tout, il l’avait déjà vu avec Dream avant sa corruption. Il l’avait vu heureux et même si ça l’avait blesser de ne pas être la source de son bonheur, il avait été réjouis de le voir comme ça.

Nightmare soupira avant de se rapprocher de lui et de s’accroupir en face de lui. Il enleva les larmes de son ancien subordonné avec sa manche, la tâchant de noir, avant de doucement déclarer :

— Tu n’as pas besoin de ressentir autant de culpabilité. Si tu regrettes vraiment ce que tu lui as, tu as juste à lui en parler, mais tu dois aussi arrêter de refouler tes émotions. Ton âme te fera toujours souffrir à cause de ça. Parle-lui et parle à Dream, les choses qui reste sur le cœur ne sont pas de bonnes choses.

Puis il partit, le laissant réfléchir à tout cela tranquillement. Il se dirigea vers la chambre de son frère, avant d’y rentrait et de demander à parler au monochrome, qui accepta à contre cœur, le suivant dans le salon qui était une des pièce les plus proches.

Killer sortit de sa chambre, avant de se diriger vers la pièce où se trouvait le positif. Il entra dans la pièce, surpris par l'absence du monochrome, avant de s'affaler sur le siège que ce dernier avait installé. Il commença à jouer avec son couteau, occupant ses mains et essayer de ne pas ressentir tous les sentiments qui le submerger, essayant de les annihilés le plus possible.

— Bonjour Killer.

La voix calme de Dream s’éleva, plus grave qu’avant sa transformation et empli de douleur dissimulé. Le larmoyant souris avec son même sourire de façade habituelle, avant de se lever et de pointer son arme vers l’autre squelette, touchant la gorge de ce dernier mais ne faisant aucun mouvement pour le blesser. Il le regardait, avec cette impression qu’il était aussi calme que s’il restait devant le feu d’une cheminée, écoutant le bruit du crépitement des flammes et regardant leurs danses contrôlés. Étrangement, le couteau commença à trembler et à se baisser doucement.

La tristesse fus le premier sentiment qu’il ressentis à cet instant. Puis la colère et la rancoeur. Ce n’était pas tourné vers le gardien, mais envers lui-même. Il ne comprenait pas pourquoi, mais pour la première fois depuis des années, il ressentais de la pitié pour lui et était incapable de faire cet action qu’il désirait. Il voulait juste que tout ça change, mais une partie de son âme se réjouissait de ça. Une partie de son âme ne voulait pas tuer le gardien.

— Pourquoi j’hésite ? Pourquoi je n’ose pas faire ça ? On a trouvé aucun moyen de te sauver pour l’instant. Ce serait juste te rendre service. Tu ne souffrirais plus, et pourtant je n’y arrives pas.

— Parfois c’est les choix qui nous semble les plus juste qui nous font le plus mal. Tu as changé, Killer. Tu es capable de nouveau de ressentir de la compassion, tu es capable de nouveau de ressentir à nouveau des émotions. Tu as du mal à toutes les comprendre ou les assimiler pour l'instant, mais tu y arriveras un jour.

— Qu’est ce qui te fais dire que je ne vais pas te tuer ? J’ai déjà hésité pour tuer mon frère et pourtant je l’ai fais. Qu’est-ce qui te dis que je ne vais pas faire pareil avec toi ?

— Tes sentiments me le disent. Je suis heureux au moins d’avoir pus voir ce changement en toi. Je sais qu’un jour tu arriveras à panser toutes tes plaies, même si ça prendra du temps.

Le sourire sincère et radieux de l’aveugle finit par avoir raison de son interlocuteur. Ce dernier baissa entièrement son arme, ses larmes coulèrent abondamment, noires sur son orbite droite, et translucide à gauche, là où sa pupille blanche était visible. Il ajouta d’une voix brisée :

— Je ne veux pas te tuer, mais je ne veux pas te voir souffrir non plus. Je suis qu’un idiot.

— Ça va aller. Tout va bien se passer.

En disant ses mots, le positif pris la main de l’autre squelette. Ce dernier s’assit sur le lit, tout en le prenant dans les bras, incapable de contrôler ses sanglots. Dream lui rendit son étreinte, son orbite recouverte de fleurs étant inondée de larmes.

Les deux autres squelettes, Cross et Nightmare les regardaient, la gorge serrée. Même si cela avait été compliquer pour les deux, surtout pour le monochrome, ils avaient laisser Killer agir à sa guise, ne sachant pas totalement s’il déciderait de l’épargner.

Plusieurs jours passèrent, les jumeaux essayèrent de calmer la croissance des fleurs avec la négativité de l’ainé, prenant le plus possible celle de son frère. Au début, le résultat était peu concluant, pour ne pas dire l’inverse. Les fleurs ne poussait plus, mais celles déjà présentent brûlèrent encore plus Dream, au point que Cross supplie le négatif d’arrêter face aux cris de douleur de son amant, commençant à le menacer en voyant qu’il n’arrêtait pas. Killer avait réagis à ce moment, l’éloignant rapidement.

Lorsqu’il avait fini, Dream avait remarquer que la douleur avait drastiquement baissé, comme si elle était revenu au point de départ, comme de légères brûlures. Puis après quelques jours, ils avaient remarqué que plus aucune plantes ne pousser. Celles qui rester commencèrent petit à petit à flétrir, et à se détacher une par une, emportant la douleur avec elles.

Les écoulements de négativité partirent aussi, dû au gardien qui arrivait dorénavant à mieux gérer ses sentiments négatifs, laissant son orbite gauche fissurée visible. Son orbite droite, quand à elle fut débarrassée de ses parasites, sa pupille ne pouvant plus voir correctement de loin.

Killer évitait le plus possible Cross, ne voulant pas lui parler de qu’il avait sur le cœur. Ou plutôt n’arrivant pas à poser des mots dessus. Mais les efforts de son ami pour le rassurer commencèrent peu à peu à porter leur fruits. Il n’était pas encore au point de lui confier son âme comme avec Nightmare, mais il réussissait de plus en plus à ne plus essayer de le blesser avec ses paroles dès qu’il essayait de savoir comment il allait ou de vouloir du temps avec lui.

Même si Nightmare essayait par moment d’éloigner tout le monde de lui, sûrement à cause de ses sentiments négatifs ou à cause de ses remords, il était heureux que les personnes les plus importantes à ses yeux aient décidé de rester près de lui.

[reveseke]

Thought about a what if reader was insomniac and was found sleeping with Jack by Jessica?

PT. Thought about a what if reader was insomniac and was found sleeping with Jack by Jessica? PT end

Trope ... Mainly fluff

Feature ... Aaron Hotch Hotchner | Derek Morgan | Jessica (Hotch's SIL) | Jack Hotchner | Masc! Reader (he him)

CW ... Talks of insomnia | a fear of death/ not waking up anymore mentioned | also me swearing lol

Disc ... I'm not suffering from insomnia myself, i hope i didn't get something so fucking wrong lol. I know something off of insomnia, some little research I've done in past that stuck with me and I'm using some of my own sleeping problem experience on this but that's minor.

Edit ... I'm not actually sure her name was Veronica? For some reason I have a small itch it was lmao. Ok new edit, it was Jessica not Veronica and I'm editing it out lol

DNI - Fudanashis/fujodashis, women & fem-aligned, profic/proship, anti - LGBTQ+ folk & exclusionists, anti-antis, Necro- Zoo- Pedophiles + (NO)Maps(and other terms), basic DNI criteria, kink/nude/nsfw/sh/vent/pro-ana/ed/18+ blogs

So i got a thought of insomniac Reader who may as well stay awake for who knows how long being somewhat terrified of sleeping.

He may be plagued by nightmares of some kind, having a fear of not simply waking up anymore or possibly just too many thought that run rampant and he can't keep them still enough.

Just lying in bed with both the men as they either sleep or one or both are still awake and try to help him. But they have a little time window sometimes which means Reader may be alone most of the time and left with his own thought more than they'd like to let him.

Thinking how he'll greet them when they wake up to a case and come back just working as normally as he can manage both of them seeing how the lack of sleep is dripping off if the man.

I think both of them be dragging the poor man to bed one at a time if he starts wandering bc he's restless as fuck.

The one time they actually hear about him sleeping when on a case is when Jessica, Hotch's Sister-in-law (is it ex?-sister-in-law bc Hayley's dead? Idk may be), comes to pick up Jack.

The silence in the house was uncanny, it felt displaced as Jack wandered around the house he called home. It was usual for him to see one of his dad's wondering around mumbling to himself about something he never could catch as Aaron and Derek had left for another case.

The boy knew it wasn't exactly normal for him to be in a house of silence. Wandering to the master bedroom door, he slowly and lightly opened the door with a creek.

It didn't do anything to alert the man inside as all the boy heard were soft snores. Otherwise the room was completely silent, sun pouring in and dappling spots on the bed and the covers where he could see a imprint of a person splayed on the bed, spotting strands of (h/c) hair on the head that was slightly tucked under the covers.

The morning was silent as Jessica opened the door, looking around lightly and calling out to Jack and Reader. Nothing came of it as no answer was heard, wandering inside the house for a little bit she found the master bedroom's door ajar.

The view of seeing her nephew hugging a body of one of the lovers of Aaron was adorable, just laying besides him and making a shushing motion towards her as she called out Jack's name. The boy understood that R had difficulties sleeping and he didn't want him to wake up yet, it was unknown go R if that was the reason Jack staid with him or not. Just guarding, bc he had heard Jessica tell about a fly that the boy was trying to slap out of the air when it came too close at least once.

Except that yet turned into sleeping three days with R regretting everything. At least he could have been blessed with some pictures of the scene or a possible stuffed animal or two besides him bc Jack didn't want him to be alone when he woke up.

I really think the boys all of them would do something small for R to try to help him. Doing subtly things that would not irritate him if he was known to be really easy to be irritated when lacking a lot of sleep.

Jack would absolutely share his studies with him, saying they'd scare off the nightmares or thoughts if R had ever answered a question from the boy on why he was up. Not that R would take them, he'd give them back at the end of the day saying it's important that they're protecting Jack instead of him and stressing about it to the boy. But he does not hear it.

I think R would be doing things out of boredom at night when he's restless and doesn't feel comfortable cuddling with Aaron and Derek for the moment. Were it baking, maybe crocheting, crafting or doing something else if R is handy enough and there's something to fix he could do it, he would do it to pass time.

[carmwavebarebears]

(a/n: hi! i'm not new to the world of fan fiction BUT this is my first post ever and i'm excited. honestly this post does not have sustenance, it's just a headcanon i have that carmy would be avoidant as fuck throughout the beginning of your relationship. anyways if you take the time to click on this you're automatically awesome<3

all the best,

bear!)

I’m just thinking about the first time you spend the night at Carmy’s place. 

He would be working late, obviously, so he’d pick you up from your job or apartment on his way home. Or, if you worked at the restaurant with him, you would go straight home with him, because you brought a bag to work.

When you get back to his apartment, the first thing he does is apologise for the mess, even though the place is pretty tidy. He insists on making dinner for the both of you, so here you are, sitting on his counter, cross legged, watching him stirring a creamy sauce to go with the pasta you asked for. You’re yapping about your day, and he’s just listening, occasionally making a soft noise to let you know that he’s paying attention.

He’d ask the occasional question, in which you’re happy to elaborate, and when dinner’s finally cooked, you both take a seat on the couch. There’s a large gap between you, not just because of the hot food, but because it’s 11:00 pm and you’re sitting in that silly little skirt you like to wear, the one with the flowers, and he doesn’t want to ruin it. Plus, you both like the corner of the couch, and stubborn as you are, aren’t willing to sacrifice it.

There’s a shitty cooking show playing in the background, providing some white noise as you eat in silence. And because Carmy, your boyfriend of a week, made it, of course it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever had. He insists on washing the dishes, playing it off as being a gentleman, when in reality, he has a very special and specific system for his dishes, and no offence, but he doesn’t want you to ruin it. Maybe one day he’ll let you dry them.

The night is spent… well, I think you can guess, but he falls asleep a good few hours after you, overthinking the events that just took place, staring at you, unable to shake the feeling that this is a fucking mistake, this is a fucking mistake, carmen, please, you need to get out now, because the other shoe is going to drop and he’ll be left feeling lonelier than he did before he met you, because now his heart is full with something that it wasn’t before, and he’ll just know that the feeling of it is going to me unmissable. 

He falls asleep on the very edge of the bed, practically pressed against the wall, even when there’s so much room for him to sprawl out; you’re very small, because he doesn’t want to touch you, he doesn’t want to grow more attached and obsessed and addicted to the feeling of your skin against his when the other shoe is going to drop and he’ll be left mourning the place in his heart and his bed that you used to occupy.

And even despite all of his worries and anxiety, he sleeps better than he has in literal years, not waking up once in the middle of the night, not a nightmare, not a single dream at all. Believe me, it was still a shitty fucking sleep, but he woke up with you lying on your stomach, using your arm as a pillow, your other arm by your side, with your fingers slightly intertwined with his. You haven’t moved a muscle since you fell asleep, and his heart sinks when he realises it’s only been a week and his subconscious is already yearning for you.

And as much as the feeling terrifies him, your hand is so soft and small compared to his, and hey, this is actually kind of nice, because when he tries to remove his land from your feather light grip, you give a soft huff in your sleep, trying to cling on to fingers that are no longer there, hands that are already pulling on a shirt and closing his bedroom door slightly to let you sleep without his early morning chef interruptions.

He’s halfway to work by the time you even stir, and all you wake up to is a sticky note on his counter.

Had a great time, see you tomorrow

- C. B