A Rogue Nightmare

The Nightmare's gaze falls as Dream turns his attention towards the book. Listening with contemplative interest as Morpheus reminisces on his feelings. It takes all of his strength not to smirk and chuckle over the idea that Morpheus was brooding over his newfound freedom. Only he could find issue with free time.

The Nightmare's maws snap softly as Dream claims he allowed himself to be found, and the Nightmare accepts the invitation effortlessly. Reaching up to draw a golden palm along Morpheus's neck until he was caressing his Maker's cheek.

"You're experiencing boredom, Lord?" He muses softly. Humoured by the idea of Dream needing to find some way to waste his endless time.

Golden fingers curl and caress with approval when Dream receives his touch positively. Tracing the point of a high cheekbone adorned with midnight lashes.

The Nightmare's lips spread into a wide grin when Dream comments on the outcomes of his games. True, the Nightmare often played to sabotage. There were no winners save for the ex Major Arcanas grim satisfaction. But he's feeling generous.

His carved visage tilts welcomingly into the hand that takes his chin. Receptive to his Maker's touch. Craving it.

"I'll play nice. I make a rule, then you make a rule. Sound fair?" He muses in a low drawl as he stoops an inch closer to bring their faces close.

But it is almost impossible to hide its disappointment when Dream's touch withdraws, and the Nightmare is left to lower the forgotten book by his side. The abandonment is almost forgiven, when Dream turns in their tight proximity to bring them face to face.

The Nightmare's head tilts as it reads Morpheus's expression. His attention half drawn to the windows his Maker seems to be fixated upon.

"Wandering?" The Corinthian repeats, his brow quirking high above dark shades.

"Dare I ask if there's been something weighing on your mind?"

The Nightmare's gaze falls as Dream turns his attention towards the book. Listening with contemplative interest as Morpheus reminisces on his feelings. It takes all of his strength not to smirk and chuckle over the idea that Morpheus was brooding over his newfound freedom. Only he could find issue with free time.

The Nightmare's maws snap softly as Dream claims he allowed himself to be found, and the Nightmare accepts the invitation effortlessly. Reaching up to draw a golden palm along Morpheus's neck until he was caressing his Maker's cheek.

"You're experiencing boredom, Lord?" He muses softly. Humoured by the idea of Dream needing to find some way to waste his endless time.

That unexpected touch is followed by an even more unexpected question. One that the Nightmare should have expected. Wasn't it always typical of Dream to draw the conversation towards business? Reflective shades draw towards Morpheus's visage as his hand is lowered by pale fingers. He does not fight the draw of that hand. It would be futile to even try.

"You'd follow me too if I slipped out at night, wouldn't you?" He replies with a smile drawing close to something too sharp.

❝Yes, and I have reasons for doing so.❞ He countered softly, his thumb ABSENTMINDEDLY brushing along the Corinthian’s wrist, before he finally withdrew his touch. In that same breath, he turned to face his creation, his shoulder brushing across that broad chest.

But it is almost impossible to hide its disappointment when Dream's touch withdraws, and the Nightmare is left to lower the forgotten book by his side. The abandonment is almost forgiven, when Dream turns in their tight proximity to bring them face to face.

The Nightmare's head tilts as it reads Morpheus's expression. His attention half drawn to the windows his Maker seems to be fixated upon.

"Wandering?" The Corinthian repeats, his brow quirking high above dark shades.

"Dare I ask if there's been something weighing on your mind?"

No other creature of the Dreaming had the confidence that the Corinthian did in approaching their Creator. Except, perhaps, his raven.

A golden hand reached for the book, brushing Dream's shoulder with intention disguised as carelessness. It did the same once more when retracting with the ancient tome. Despite his visage being turned towards the book, the Corinthian barely casts the cover a passing glance. His attention is locked on the starry eyed being caught between his body and the bookshelves. Denying his Maker the space to truly turn and assess his visitor.

His gaze settled upon those elegant fingers. He knew that hand. He had shaped every line, every GRACEFUL proportion. He had watched it become stained with blood, curl around teacups, rest against his own skin, and offer unexpected tenderness with the same effortless confidence it employed to take the ancient tome from the shelf.

Recognition softened the stillness in his expression before his eyes followed the hand to its owner, the chest at his back preventing him from turning around fully without making direct contact. ❝I have.❞ He answered quietly, his attention flicking once more to the book, before returning to the Corinthian in his peripheral. ❝And you appear considerably more interested in INTERRUPTING my contemplation than in reading it yourself.❞ Because otherwise, the Corinthian could have simply read that same volume within the Dreaming, anecdotes and all.

That unexpected touch is followed by an even more unexpected question. One that the Nightmare should have expected. Wasn't it always typical of Dream to draw the conversation towards business? Reflective shades draw towards Morpheus's visage as his hand is lowered by pale fingers. He does not fight the draw of that hand. It would be futile to even try.

"You'd follow me too if I slipped out at night, wouldn't you?" He replies with a smile drawing close to something too sharp.

The scent of aged paper and polished wood lingered pleasantly in the air as Morpheus wandered the narrow aisles of the mortal library. Fingers brushed lightly across WEATHERED spines without disturbing them, his touch almost reverent, as though each volume possessed a dream worthy of quiet respect.

He paused before a shelf devoted to mythology, his reflection briefly caught in the darkened window beyond. Mortals had always attempted to explain the inexplicable through stories. It was, perhaps, one of the qualities he ADMIRED most about them.

No other creature of the Dreaming had the confidence that the Corinthian did in approaching their Creator. Except, perhaps, his raven.

A golden hand reached for the book, brushing Dream's shoulder with intention disguised as carelessness. It did the same once more when retracting with the ancient tome. Despite his visage being turned towards the book, the Corinthian barely casts the cover a passing glance. His attention is locked on the starry eyed being caught between his body and the bookshelves. Denying his Maker the space to truly turn and assess his visitor.

By the time he had managed to settle into the passenger seat and haul the door closed behind him, Cain had the key in the ignition and the truck began to rumble over uneven gravel. The jerking motiok of the vehicle making him grimace and lash out a hand for balance upon the dashboard.

"Who..." He swallows, his voice dry and rasping and his mind reeling to form thoughts. He groans and hangs his head into his hand. Pressing a palm over crooked shades so he might obscure the glaring light of their surroundings.

The Nightmare lifts his palm sceptically off of his shades to catch how Cain leans in with a deliberate emphasis on his behaviour. The Dreamkin scoffs softly and proceeds to drop his hand from his face to wind lethargic arms around his stomach instead. Finding respite from holding his head aloft by sinking back against the headrest.

He wasn't truly behaving, was he? Not in the way his Maker wanted. Nightmare's were not supposed to be wandering the Waking World. And yet...

Cain's question succeeds in stirring a hesitant blink from the Nightmare. A pause fit to burst, preceeding a slow turn of his head down towards his own body.

He attempts to stand up straighter and disguise just how poorly he must seem for Cain to comment that he does not trust his legs, only for him to realise he had been slouching against a tree. The attempts made to right himself only ended with both hands grappling with the trunk and the world being taken for a wild spin.

"I'm..." He was going to say fine, but that wasn't true at all, was it?

Swallowing down the tight burning in his throat, he raises his head again to realise Cain had moved. A disoriented swing of his head searching for his missing company only to find him in the process of dragging a dead deer towards his truck.

He huffs out softly as he musters up the strength to lean off the tree and teeter after Cain and the beast he was dragging.

By the time he had managed to settle into the passenger seat and haul the door closed behind him, Cain had the key in the ignition and the truck began to rumble over uneven gravel. The jerking motiok of the vehicle making him grimace and lash out a hand for balance upon the dashboard.

"Who..." He swallows, his voice dry and rasping and his mind reeling to form thoughts. He groans and hangs his head into his hand. Pressing a palm over crooked shades so he might obscure the glaring light of their surroundings.

"Something about you is different."

Everything about him felt different. Was it that obvious to the casual onlooker, too? The Corinthian had hoped he was doing a better job of hiding it, but he felt awful.

The first thing that indicated to him something was wrong, was when he fell asleep.

Nightmares don't sleep.

And when he woke up, he felt like he'd been hit by a truck. His limbs felt heavy, his stomach ached, his head pounded in a way he'd never experienced before. He had stepped outside in the hopes fresh air would cure him, or at least he would put distance between himself and whatever cursed object was causing this misery. He subsequently discovered that balance was harder to maintain and the sun was too damn bright.

Cain had obviously spotted his disorientation even before the Nightmare had noticed the encroaching Demon and tried to play it cool. His smile was too forced, tightly stretched over grinding teeth.

He attempts to stand up straighter and disguise just how poorly he must seem for Cain to comment that he does not trust his legs, only for him to realise he had been slouching against a tree. The attempts made to right himself only ended with both hands grappling with the trunk and the world being taken for a wild spin.

"I'm..." He was going to say fine, but that wasn't true at all, was it?

Swallowing down the tight burning in his throat, he raises his head again to realise Cain had moved. A disoriented swing of his head searching for his missing company only to find him in the process of dragging a dead deer towards his truck.

He huffs out softly as he musters up the strength to lean off the tree and teeter after Cain and the beast he was dragging.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ💋ɞ˚‧｡⋆   𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠  𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞  𝐨𝐟  𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 - send  ‘reverse’ for the sender and  receiver to  swap.  adjust wording as needed!

[  fever  ]  sender  presses  the  back  of  their  hand  to  receiver’s  forehead,  brows  knitting  with  quiet  concern

[  medicine  ]  sender  sets  alarms  on  their  phone  just  to  make  sure  receiver  doesn’t  miss  a  dose

[  blanket  ]  sender  layers  blankets  over  receiver,  adjusting  them  until  they’re  just  right

[  soup  ]  sender  blows  gently  on  a  spoonful  of  soup  before  offering  it  to  receiver

[  water  ]  sender  holds  the  glass  steady,  murmuring  encouragement  until  receiver  takes  a  sip

[  hair  brush  ]  sender  carefully  brushes  receiver’s  hair  back,  slow  and  soothing

[  ice  pack  ]  sender  wraps  an  ice  pack  in  a  towel  and  presses  it  gently  where  it  hurts

[  temperature  ]  sender  wakes  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  just  to  check  if  receiver’s  still  warm

[  pill  ]  sender  places  medicine  in  receiver’s  palm  and  waits  until  they  swallow  it

[  quiet  room  ]  sender  dims  the  lights  and  turns  everything  down  low  so  receiver  can  rest

[  slow  ]  sender  stays  at  receiver’s  pace,  arm  ready  in  case  they  stumble

[  bandage  ]  sender  changes  the  bandages  carefully,  apologizing  even  when  it  doesn’t  hurt

[  lap  ]  sender  lets  receiver  rest  their  head  in  their  lap  while  they  stroke  their  hair

[  night  watch  ]  sender  refuses  to  sleep  deeply,  listening  for  every  shift  or  breath

[  warm  cloth  ]  sender  presses  a  cool  cloth  to  receiver’s  neck  or  wrist

[  cough  ]  sender  rubs  slow  circles  between  receiver’s  shoulders  through  every  coughing  fit

[  carried  ]  sender  helps  receiver  move,  taking  more  weight  than  they  should  without  complaint

[  pain  ]  sender  distracts  receiver  with  quiet  stories  or  memories  until  the  pain  dulls

[  soft  voice  ]  sender  speaks  more  gently  than  usual,  like  anything  louder  might  hurt

[  held  ]  sender  sits  behind  receiver,  arms  around  them  so  they  don’t  have  to  hold  themselves  up

[  protective  ]  sender  stays  curled  close  even  after  receiver  falls  asleep

[  food   ]  sender  convinces  receiver  to  eat  “just  a  little  more”  with  a  smile

[  stay  still  ]  sender  gently  stops  receiver  from  pushing  themselves  too  hard

𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

❝  hey.  i’ve  got  you.  ❞

❝  don’t  rush.  we’re  not  going  anywhere.  ❞

❝  let  me  do  it  for  you,  okay?  ❞

❝  i  know  it  hurts.  i’m  right  here.  ❞

❝  you’re  allowed  to  rest.  i  promise.  ❞

❝  just  focus  on  breathing.  i’ll  handle  the  rest.  ❞

❝  you  don’t  have  to  be  strong  right  now.  ❞

❝  tell  me  where  it  hurts.  i’ll  be  careful.  ❞

❝  i’m  not  leaving  until  you  feel  better.  ❞

❝  i’ll  stay  up  with  you  if  i  need  to.  ❞

❝  it’s  okay  to  lean  on  me.  ❞

❝  shh…  you’re  safe.  ❞

❝  i’ve  got  time.  all  of  it’s  yours.  ❞

❝  you  don’t  have  to  say  thank  you.  ❞

❝  let  me  take  care  of  you.  ❞ 

❝  you’re  doing  really  well.  ❞

❝  i’m  right  here.  breathe  with  me.  ❞

❝  don’t  apologize.  this  is  what  i’m  here  for.  ❞

❝  rest.  i’ll  wake  you  if  you  need  anything.  ❞