#nightmare fic

[blushing-in-space]

without you

-> anakin skywalker

Summary: You wake up to find anakin suffering from another nightmare.

-> I felt that unfamiliar darkness in his presence beside me. That darkness that was so unlike him and more akin to those he would call his enemies. It forced itself into my soul, warning me of the nightmare that was again corrupting the should-be-restful mind of Anakin Skywalker.

I felt squirming in the bed beside me, causing the sheets to turn hot. His breathing gradually grew from heavy to ragged, worrying me more than the nightmare itself. It wasn’t the first time I had experienced these episodes he had, though it had certaintly been a long time. I turned to face his back to find his skin pale, his body covered in the thin shine of sweat.

I sat up feeling fear and grief radiating off him in strong waves, so strong it was if they were my own emotions. My hand went to his shoulder, rolling him over slightly in hopes that it would awaken him from whatever nightmare he was experiencing, but it had no effect on him. His brows furrowed, mouth curled in a deep frown. His lips parted slightly. Rough, deep breaths were huffed from his chest.

“Ani?” I spoke softly, with a hand on his shoulder in hopes of coaxing him awake.

When he did not respond, I rested my hand on his other shoulder and patted it softly. “Anakin?” I repeated, this time loud enough I feared someone outside of his room would hear.

To my relief, he awoke, but not as peacefully as I had hoped. He grabbed my wrist that still rested on his shoulder and shot up from his place in bed, blue eyes wide they burned into me. His hand squeezed tightly on my wrist, and I pulled it away. At the loss of my touch, his eyes softened, but his breathing did not slow.

“Nightmare?” I asked him, though I needed no reply as he looked away from me.

He stood up without a word, grabbing his robe from the edge of the bed and throwing it over his shoulders. “Yes,” he groaned, striding across the room and yanking the curtains back, the sparkling night skyline of Couresant filling the room.

I stood up with him, approaching him hesitantly, just coming close enough to see his gaze focused on the city, eyes darting around the edges of the window anxiously.

“What are you doing?” I questioned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as if it would clear the confusion.

Anakin gazed out for a moment longer before shaking his head and running a hand through his wet locks. His jaw was tense, face set in a serious expression he rarely shows outside of the battlefield. “I don’t know,” he looked at me, lip quivering, “you- you died.”

I gulped. He didn’t have to say anymore for me to understand what he meant. “But I didn’t,” I whispered as I hugged him, bringing his head to rest in the crook of my neck, “I’m right here.”

He held me so tightly that I thought I might snap into pieces. I rubbed his back soothingly and kissed the side of his head, feeling his need for comfort in this dark moment. He pulled away and looked into my eyes again, his eyes cleared of the tears that had threatened to spill moments ago. His hands came to cup my cheeks softly, his battle hardened fingertips tracing over my skin.

“It was so real,” he whispered, “it was like the dreams I had just before my mother died.”

I inhaled sharply and looked down, closing my eyes as I reached out to him through the force. I saw in him that he believed the nightmare he had to be another premonition. A promise that my death would really and truly happen.

The council had always ignored the gift the force had granted him, believing it to be a symptom of his paranoia and stress. But I know the dreams are not passed on Anakin emotions and fears. I know it. They is always truth behind his visions.

Though now I wanted to be able to denounce his dream and promise him that his dream was just what it was. A dream. But I would be foolish to do so after his mothers death.

“What happened?” I asked almost fearfully.

He was quiet for a moment, worrying me that he would shut me out. But instead he guided us both back to his bed, holding my hands and tracing patterns into my palms with his thumbs. “It… It was blurry. The more I think about the more unclear it gets. But you were clear. You were crying, and in pain, and calling out to me- begging me to listen to you.”

His voice cracked at the end, and he shut his eyes to hold back the tears. I held him again, and just like before, he wrapped his arms around me and clutched me as if I would disappear at a moments notice.

“I can’t lose you. I can’t lose anyone else,” he whispered, his voice muffled as he pressed desperate kisses to the side of my face.

I shhed him softly, running my fingers through his hair. “You won’t. I won’t leave you. I’ll do everything I can to stay with you. I swear it, Anakin.”

He nodded agasint me, fingers digging into my skin. “I won’t let you either. I’ll do anything- anything- to keep you safe.”

His tone had become dark, threatening even. But he was so upset, and I was as well. So I said nothing of it as we laid back down and the urge to sleep became more powerful than Anakin’s words of hatred.

“I won’t be without you,” I thought I heard him say, but it must have been a dream.

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin imagine #anakin fanfiction #hayden christensen #rots anakin #anakin skywalker #nightmare fic #starwars #starwars fanfic #starwars prequels #anakin x reader fluff #anakin x reader angst #anakin x y/n #anakin x you #anakin nightmare

[bisexualmultifandommess]

Now I’ve finished The Brothers Sun season 1 I want to write a nightmare one shot where Charles has a nightmare about either him going through with killing Bruce or Bruce dying after going to face their dad and when Charles wakes up he’s upset and disoriented and goes to find Bruce to make sure he’s ok and maybe even gives him a hug. Bruce is half asleep and is all like “wtf Charles is hugging me and crying oh my god am I dying??”

I just love a nightmare fic where the person who has the nightmare is usually calm and doesn’t like showing their emotions too much but when it’s about something really unsettling they break down and need comfort and at first don’t even realise it wasn’t real it’s the perfect amount of angst and hurt/comfort for me.

#I’m going to write it #I’ve looked on ao3 and there’s only 2 fics #so I’ll write some #eventually #the brothers sun #the brothers sun fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfics #nightmare fic #nightmares #charles sun #bruce sun

[lover-of-mine]

i'll come tackle the monsters

Pairing: Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz (911)

Word Count: exactly 4.5k lol

But Buck didn't seem ready to talk. He just shifted, moving so he could drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, before nodding slightly and hiding his face on his neck. That is also new, Buck allowing himself to seek comfort. So Eddie waits, lets his hand find Buck's hair, fingers lazily moving through it until he relaxes against him. “I thought you were dead,” Buck mumbles into his skin, still hiding, almost as if he's hoping that if he stays like this, it can't hurt him. “It was just a bad dream,” Eddie tries to reassure him, fingers still moving on his hair, but he shakes his head. “No, not- not now, I mean, yes, in the dream too, but when you- I thought you were dead. You went down and you were looking at me, but then you weren't and I- I thought you were dead,” Buck explains and Eddie breathes out a soft oh once he understands what he means. “We never talked about it, about how it was for you,” he says, carefully, because even if Buck seems to be in a more open mood, he knows how fast he can shut down. or Buck has a nightmare and they talk about the shooting.

read it on ao3

#911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie #buddie fanfic #writing #otp: you don't need to pretend with me #911fics #nightmare fic #shes done #go me oskaoskaosk #i did not delete it #i kinda really like the end result here #also i am giggling to myself #because i have a very bittersweet fic were eddie is pining and he's thinking about different more kinder universes #and one of the things he thinks about is leading buck to his bed after a long day #and the setup here was to perfect not to give this eddie that vision as true #just so a version of him had that #and thats like legit my least popular cause it doesn't have a happy ending #but i love it so much so i had to do it #and im commenting because no one will notice but i want it to be known lol

[localcanadiancryptid22]

Leshycatpril Week 3: Nightmares

Oneshot fic for my Nightmares entry. Plus this is set in an au where leshy is the follower and enzo/yellow cat is the revived chaos god,because i can. Also @aniflowers i meant roleswap when i asked about using aus in the ask,i worded it wrong lol. Enzo is yellow cat btw.

//////////////////////

Enzo wakes up in the middle of darkwood,seeming to have teleported there despite him not having his crown's powers anymore. He then walks across the area and then he ends up finding some camellias.

'Camellias.. Leshy loves these heh.' the yellow cat thought to himself,and he pushes the thought aside to keep walking in order to find a way back to the cult.

Enzo walks and walks for what seems to be hours until his legs gets tired from traveling for such a long time so he sits against a tree to rest for a bit. He notices it's dark out by then.

"Ugh it's night time. How will i get back to the cult and my beloved worm now?. And i'm too tired to keep traveling by foot." enzo complains,not talking to anyone in particular,just saying his thoughts out loud.

The scenery suddenly starts to become darker and darker as if shadows begun to envelope the forest. Then the yellow cat heard a voice yelling "He's over here!" to unknown associates. And before he knew it enzo got all his limbs tied up.

"Where are you taking me?!." enzo hissed at his captors. The big boar man carrying him then looked at him and opened his mouth to speak. "Don't you remember?,we were your old sacrifices when you were still the bishop of chaos. You had us hanged drawn and quartered,had us burnt at the stake,made sure that we had the most painful deaths possible. So we are going to make you go through the horrible demise to make you pay for doing so." the boar says to the yellow cat,with the other two former sacrifices which are a dog and a fox respectively listening to the two's conversation.

"But that's impossible! You're all dead! I made sure of it!." enzo says to the trio. "And the lamb resurrected us after finding our corpses at the outside of darkwood. Looks like we're gonna have our revenge boys." the boar says to his associates and then they all keep walking to a remote area in darkwood,which has a cauldron boiling at the center.

Enzo then realizes what's going to happen to him and then he starts crying. "Please! Please don't do this!. I have a boyfriend to go to!. Mercy! Mercy please for the love of the old faith!." enzo pleads to the trio tearfully.

"Did YOU listen to our pleas when we were getting sacrificed for you to selfishly gain more power?." the fox says to enzo who shakes his head in disagreement.

The yellow cat is then placed into the cauldron and the former sacrifices put more oil into the fire to make it stronger. Enzo can feel himself starting to burn and his skin rapidly starts peeling and blood gushes out from his now furless skin as he screams and cries for his captors to take him out but he burns and burns until he eventually dies.

Then enzo wakes up crying beside leshy in their tent together,with the cat realizing that it was just a dream.

The cat whimpers and cries softly as he hugs himself to soothe his own terrible nightmare as he doesn't want to wake up leshy with something so embarrassing for the former god of chaos,something that made him become so helpless and powerless. 𝘗𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤 as his inner voice chastises.

Leshy then wakes up from hearing enzo's quiet sniffling via his strong hearing. "Hey. What's wrong zozo?." the worm asks enzo who's still crying.

"It's nothing. I'm fine." enzo says to his beloved as his voice breaks even more. The worm hugs enzo and then he kisses the latter on the forehead.

"You don't look fine kitty. You know you can tell me anything right?." leshy says to enzo softly who blushes in response. "I know. But it's kinda silly." enzo says then he laughs sheepishly while leshy wipes off his tears.

"Silly is okay with me. Now what or who made you cry?." leshy asks enzo. "I had a nightmare about my sacrificed followers getting resurrected and then they cooked me alive as revenge for the painful deaths i gave them. It was so scary. I thought it was real." the yellow cat says to leshy and then he cries even more.

"Oh kitty.." leshy says to enzo and then he hugs him a bit tighter,giving him kisses on the head. "It wasn't real. It was just a bad dream. You're safe with me now." leshy says to enzo and then he kisses him softly on the lips,the cat then kisses back and pulls away.

"Thank you lesh. I love you." enzo says to leshy. "I love you too. Also before we go back to sleep,what made you think that the bad dream was silly?." leshy asks. He then keeps hugging enzo.

"Well it's because i felt so helpless and pathetic in it. Because it's so humiliating for a former chaos god to feel that way... I hate being a powerless mortal." enzo explains to his boyfriend and then he frowns.

"Oh. Well at least this powerless mortal is loved by his awesome boyfriend right?." leshy teases enzo and then he wraps his arm around enzo's back. "I guess so. That's one good thing about being mortal." enzo says and then he yawns.

"Good night leshy." enzo says to leshy. "Good night zozo." leshy says to enzo and then he lies down along with enzo,spooning him from behind and hugging him tightly so that he won't have bad dreams anymore.

#lmao #fave #my fics #my writing #leshycat #leshycatpril2024 #leshycatpril #cotl leshy #cotl yellow cat #bishop leshy #cotl #cotl au #cult of the lamb #cotl fanfic #swap au #cotl leshycat #fluff #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #nightmare fic #week 3 #aniflowers #leshy x yellow cat #yellow cat x leshy #yellow cat #leshy #fanfic writing #they're so gay chat #they're in love your honor #first fanfic

[honestlydarkprincess]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday!

tagged by @panbuckley, @hippolotamus, @alyxmastershipper MWAH

have some of the nightmare fic (based off this post) that im hoping i'll eventually get back to!! it's not seven sentences but i'm also not going to count how many it is<3

Suddenly he was falling, rubble crashing down around him. Dust in the air, he felt his nose break, blood soaking his face.

The bridge— had it collapsed again? Over and over again, his world crashed around him. Eddie’s voice, screaming in his ear.

I’m sorry about this.

This is gonna suck.

Gut wrenching screams of pain. Stabs of guilt at causing Eddie pain but knowing there was no other choice, he had to get him out. He had to get him out.

“Buck!”

Chimney? Where was Chimney, why was he calling him, he was supposed to be saving his strength.

“Buck, wake up!”

no pressure tagging: @bigfootsmom, @maygrantgf, @lovebuck, @oliverstaark, @wolfnprey, @useramor, @wh0re-behavi0r, @theyarnmaidstale, @911onabc, @housewifebuck, @cowboy-buddie, @eddiesbicowboy, @roy-kents, @prince-buck-diaz, @midnightsbuck, and @swiftietartt 💞

#nightmare fic

[lostcybertronian]

A little drabble taking place right after Joel and Ellie get back to Jackson (post-episode 9, HBO series).

—-

It was odd sleeping in a bed after so many months in the wilderness; sleeping on the ground wrapped only in a thick jacket had nothing on a springy, soft mattress— even an old, musty one— swaddled in layers of warm blankets.

Comfortable as he was, Joel couldn’t sleep; he lay on his back and stared up at the pockmarked ceiling. Despite the heady beat of his heart in his ears it was too quiet, and the soft glow of Jackson’s streetlights spilling into the bedroom through the window did little to soothe him. Anxiety forced his breath into a stutter and his hands into fists around the folds of his downy comforter.

Then: the telltale creak of a door opening, followed by tentative footsteps over old floorboards. Coming closer.

Joel instinctively tensed, hand slipping up under his pillow for the gun nestled beneath. Then, gripping it so tightly his knuckles ached, he glared at the door.

“Joel?” Ellie’s pale moon of a face floated in the open doorway. Immediately Joel relaxed, removing his hand from under the pillow. “I can’t sleep.”

Even in the dim he could see the red puffy circles around her eyes; she’d been crying. She paused for a moment, regarding him in that cautious way she did when she was afraid, and Joel’s heart twisted.

“Nightmares?” He asked, and she nodded, her face crumpling, her eyes unfocusing, like she was being sucked back into whatever hole she’d fallen into. He glanced at the digital clock sitting on the bedside table, which he’d been avoiding looking at since he’d last tried to sleep. It read in big blocky letters: 2:36AM.

Joel shoved aside the covers, gesturing to the space left behind. “C’mere,” he said quietly. “You can stay with me tonight.”

Ellie was tumbling into the bed before he could say anything else, clutching to the warmth of his chest. Silent tears ran down her cheeks but she didn’t say anything, offered no explanation as to what made her break down like this.

Joel didn’t have to guess; he knew. He hugged her close and pressed a kiss to her clammy forehead. “It’s okay, baby girl,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”

He continued to rub small, soothing circles on her back even after Ellie’s hitching breaths deepened into a more even rhythm. Sleep called to him too, and he let it, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh as all that tension and fear and anxiety melted away into easy unconsciousness.

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us series #joel miller #ellie williams #joel and ellie #fanfiction #lostandwandering #my writing #angst #hurt/comfort #nightmare fic

[pinkpersonsblog]

Summary : Ram has an unsettling dream and Bheem comforts him, reassures him that he has nothing to worry about.

#rrr #friendship #rrr fanfic #rrr fanfiction #nightmare fic

[katloveseverlark]

Aftermath

Peeta's POV Post Mockingjay WC: 1101

On bad days, days where my brain feels foggy and disoriented, I still struggle to make sense of what's real. Of what happened prior to everything before the Capitol; before the reaping; before Katniss Everdeen.

I still wake up in the same soft place as I always do, cocooned safety in a blanket with Katniss secured in my arms, but everything feels off. The vase is in the wrong place, the floor is sinking and the wind is wailing my name, just as the mutts was to Katniss in the sewers.

The sewers. Katniss.

Peeta, Peeta, the wind keeps wailing in the distance, begging to be let in and to suffocate me. I want to open the window, as the room suddenly feels clammy and I can distinctly feel a bead of sweat forming on my forehead, but my feet don't agree with my mind, keeping me cemented to the bed. It feels too soft now, as though it's drowning me, but I can't move. I can't get up.

To to avail, I try moving Katniss off of me so I can attempt to get up, but my arms are trembling and while she normally feels like a paperweight, now she feels like a ship on water. I'm sinking, aware that I'm gasping for air, trying to stay afloat.

She's trying to keep me down, maliciously pushing me under the deep, bottomless water. There's something on her face: a vicious smile. No, a smirk. I want to push her off, start screaming, because I need to get her off. I can't see anything other than her, so I try closing my eyes but I can't. Why won't it work? Please, make it stop, I silently beg.

I can hear screaming far away, what's happening to them? Who is it? The screams increase in volume, as if they're tormenting me because I can't reach them; I can't save them, because I can't even save myself. The agonising sound gets closer to me, but I'm still gasping for air while trying not to be submerged by the water. The cries are filled with pain, so, so much pain, while the owner sobs so hard that I feel my own body shaking. But then, my body can't be shaking? I'm drowning. Katniss is drowning me.

Peeta, Peeta, please, there's the wind again, wailing for me to let Katniss do her job. It's not real, Peeta. Please.

Not real? The wind's wails and the not so distant cries reverberate around my head like a ping-pong ball.

Not real, Peeta. It's not real. Katniss?

I blink once. Twice. Three times, and the water starts to evaporate. Four times, and the cries dial down. Five, and the malicious Katniss transforms into a familiar face. Six, and there's rain? No, not rain, tears. Katniss's tears. My tears. Both of our tears mingled together on my cheeks, a sign of how broken we both are.

It takes a moment to adjust to where I am, still in bed but not safely wrapped up anymore, with the sheets tangled around my legs like vines, while I focus on Katniss's words the best I can.

We're sat up now, although I don't know when that happened, and while the floor is still dropping like I'm on an elevator and spinning like a merry-go-round, my head is no longer spinning like it was before. There's a rough, yet soft hand on my bare back, rubbing in slow, soothing circles. It feels nice, and not at all threatening despite the Katniss in my dream.

I realise that my breathing is still insanely laboured when I hear Katniss say, "breathe. You're okay, it wasn't real."

I try and listen to her while taking deep breaths, but in the end I just end up crying harder than before (if that's even possible), so Katniss guides my head to rest in her lap.

"You're okay," she repeats softly, beginning to card her cold fingers through my hair, untangling all the small knots, "do you want to talk about it?"

Without hesitation, I shake my head 'no'. Sometimes it can help, but tonight neither of us will benefit from discussing this out loud. I don't want to relive the nightmare in my head, and I don't want Katniss to think that I still see her as a threat, because I don't.

My eyes slip shut as I focus on the way her hands feel in my hair, smoothing it off of my forehead from where it's stuck there. If this was 4 years ago, when we were 18, I wouldn't have been this calm over a nightmare about Katniss. I wouldn't have been able to see her as not a threat, although I wasn't a threat to her anymore. So, I rejoice in the fact that she can calm me now.

After a while, I feel her cool lips press a soft kiss to my forehead, and lean into her while sleep threatens to take me. My eyes feel dry and scratchy, undoubtedly swollen, but at least I'm not crying anymore. Now that the tears and harsh sobs have stopped, exhaustion takes over my whole being. I could sleep here, laying in her lap, without complaint, but eventually we end up laying face to face again.

But I don't mind this, either, when I can study her face like I'm stargazing, admiring all of her, digesting the fact that she's here, I'm here, we survived and I'm so happy to be able to sleep beside the person I love.

I reach out a hand to tuck a strand of stray hair behind her ears before pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. "Thank you," I say.

"I didn't do anything, Peeta–"

I cut her off, silencing her with yet another kiss. "Thank you for being here with me. I love you."

"I love you, too," she smiles as she says it, equally loving to say those three words as much as I do, "thank you for never giving up on me."

"I would never, and I can say the same to you."

She doesn't say anything more, she just curls up against me in her usual position with her head on my chest, right over my beating heart, and her leg wrapped around mine.

When I fall asleep, I feel safe. The nightmares will inevitably come, they will still attempt to rip me to pieces, but I know that as long as I have Katniss, I'll be okay. We'll be okay, and I'll love her always.

#peeta mellark #everlark fanfiction #katniss everdeen #katniss x peeta #my writing #fanfiction #post mockingjay #toastbabies #nightmare fic #the hunger games #one shot #fluff

[limelight-write]

Thantophobia

fandom: BTS

pairing: Suga | Min Yoongi/V | Kim Taehyung

word count: 2,555

other: nightmares, emotional hurt/comfort, dream major character death, he’s not really dead though

summary:

Thantophobia

(n.) the fear of losing someone you love

“Last night, he told Jungkookie he’d be right back, he was just going for a walk. Someone found him in the park, Yoongi, he was attacked.”

Yoongi drops the spoon he’s using to stir, freezing.

read on AO3

read here:

The night before had been so normal . Yoongi stayed in the studio until the late hours of the night. When he got back to the dorm the only people awake were Jungkook and Taehyung playing games on the TV. Taehyung. Taehyung had been right there . He was fine. Yoongi had just gone to bed without saying anything to them.

God , he wishes he had said something.

When Seokjin wakes him up in the morning he’s crying. Yoongi shoots up, confused and worried, “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

“Yoon,” Seokjin chokes, more tears spill over his red cheeks, “Yoongi, it’s Tae.”

Yoongi furrows his brow, “I don’t understand, hyung, what’s wrong with Taehyung, what happened?”

Seokjin sits on the edge of Yoongi bed, crumbling in on himself as he sobs, “Last night, he told Jungkookie he’d be right back, he was just going for a walk,” Yoongi still doesn’t know what’s wrong, but there’s a pit forming in his stomach, “Someone found him in the park, Yoongi, he was attacked.”

“Attacked?” Yoongi repeats, voice hoarse.

“He was taken to the hospital, but Yoongi,” Seokjin cries harder, reaching out and gripping Yoongi’s hand with force, “He didn’t… he stopped… he didn’t make it through the night.”

Yoongi freezes, whole body turning rigid and cold, “This isn’t funny,” he snaps, pushing himself out of bed on shaky legs, “I don’t know what kind of sick joke this is, but it isn’t funny.”

“Yoongi, stop.”

Yoongi yanks his hand from Seokjin’s hold, “Where is he? The living room?” He stumbles out of his bedroom, Seokjin calling in broken sobs behind him. He has to use the wall for support when he rushes into the living room.

Namjoon is holding Jungkook and Jimin tightly on the couch, Namjoon looks numb but his eyes are shining with tears. Jimin is sobbing wretched sobs against Namjoon’s neck. Jungkook is biting his hand to muffle his own sobs, holding Jimin’s hand across Namjoon’s lap with his free one. Hoseok’s thrown across Namjoon’s lap, sitting on the floor, shaking and crying like a Disney Princess. It would have been amusing, how close they are to one another, if there wasn’t someone so obviously missing.

“Where’s Taehyungie?” Yoongi chokes out, vision flattening. Jimin cries harder and Jungkook shakes his head. Yoongi turns back to the bedrooms, tripping over himself to get to Taehyung’s room, “Taehyung-ah!” He calls over and over again with increasing panic. He can hear Namjoon and Seokjin calling behind him but his ears are buzzing with static. Seokjin and Namjoon throw their arms around him just as Yoongi’s legs give out from underneath him, the two of them holding him so he doesn’t collapse to the floor.

“Hyung,” Namjoon cries against his ear, “Hyung, he’s not here, he’s gone.”

Yoongi shakes his head, tears finally building in his eyes, “Taehyung, Taehyung, Taehyung,” he mutters over and over again through thick sobs. Somewhere along the way Hoseok crashes into them, making them all fall forward on Taehyung’s— Taehyung— bed. They cry in a pile, only moving back to the living room when Jimin’s sobs turn to something akin to screams.

Jungkook’s holding Jimin to his chest back on the couch, Jimin screaming his sobs harsher than any of them have heard anyone cry before. Jungkook’s crying apologies over and over again, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have let him go, I should have gone with him, I should have had him take a manager with him, or a bodyguard, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, Jiminie, I’m so sorry, it’s my fault, I’m sorry.”

And in turn, Jimin is screaming and crying back, “It’s okay, you can’t blame yourself, don’t be sorry, you didn’t know, I’m sorry, please don’t blame yourself, you can’t do this to yourself, it’ll be okay, Jungkookie, I’m sorry, I miss him, why would he go ?”

They’re practically laying on top of each other, tears mingling together where Jungkook’s drips down his neck and Jimin cries against them.

Yoongi watches them from the hallway for a beat before he’s shaking with tears again, “Hyung,” he turns to Seokjin, “I never told him.”

Seokjin hugs him again, pressing Yoongi against his chest, “I know, Yoongi.”

“I never told him, he never knew,” Yoongi sobs, clutching his only hyung’s shirt with a desperation he’s never felt before, “I never told him I love him, hyung, I never-” he passes out before he can finish his sentence.

Yoongi jolts up in his bed, gasping for air that he can’t quite get into his lungs, clawing at his own chest and coughing. He can hear his own breath in his ears, grating and shallow. His cheeks are wet with tears that are still pouring from his eyes. He blocks his mouth with the back of his hand, unable to stop sobs from raking out of his throat.

Taehyung .

Had he dreamed it all? But he had passed out in the end, and it felt so real . Maybe…

He can’t take any chances. Before he can stop himself he’s rolling out of bed and throwing his door open. It’s dark. It must be late at night still, all the lights in the dorm are shut off, but he knows how to get to Taehyung’s room, he doesn’t need to see to get there. He opens the door as quietly and quickly as possible, he doesn't want to wake the others up if he can help it.

Taehyung’s inside, he’s there, breathing, illuminated by the moon through his open window blinds. He’s ready for bed, looks like he was about to climb under his covers to sleep, but now he’s squinting through the darkness to see who burst into his room.

“Yoongi hyung?” Taehyung calls quietly, and the moment Yoongi hears his voice air comes crashing back into his lungs with painful speed, causing him to let out a gasp that quickly fades into a quiet sob, “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi’s legs feel ready to collapse as he tries to step toward Taehyung who seems to understand that Yoongi’s trying to reach him and walks to him instead.

The minute he’s within reach Yoongi lunges his hands forward, pushing his hands through Taehyung’s hair, and down his face and neck, grasping for anything he can hold to prove that Taehyung is here . Taehyung places steadying hands on Yoongi’s waist, and he looks so worried that Yoongi can’t help but cry more, “Hyung?”

“You’re here,” Yoongi says in an almost silent cry, hands cupping Taehyung’s face, “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Taehyung nods, squeezing Yoongi’s waist firmly, “I’m right here, hyung, it’s okay.”

Yoongi wraps his arms around Taehyung, pulling him into a tight hug. With his face pressed against Taehyung’s neck he cries more freely, hiccuping out sob after sob. He thinks about Jimin in his dream, crying into Jungkook’s neck, and cries harder. Taehyung holds him tightly, whispering reassurances into his ear.

“I was so scared,” Yoongi sobs, “I was so, so scared. I thought I lost you, thought I lost you for good, fuck , Taehyungie, I was so scared.”

“Did you have a nightmare?” Taehyung asks softly, and Yoongi just nods, crying a little softer, “It wasn’t real, it’s okay, I’m still here. Right here, hyung, I’m not going anywhere, I’m here.”

It takes five more minutes of broken sobs and reassurances before Taehyung’s able to manhandle Yoongi to his bed, sitting beside each other with their hands intertwined.

Now that he isn’t crying uncontrollably a feeling of pure embarrassment and shame creeps up on Yoongi, “I’m sorry, Tae, if I had stayed in my room I could have calmed myself down, I shouldn’t have come and bothered you.”

“Hyung,” Taehyung’s voice is firm but so soothing, “I’m so glad you came to me. You always encourage me to seek people out when I’m upset, the same goes for you.”

Yoongi sighs, bringing his free hand up to wipe his drying tears from his cheeks, partly to hide the new tears forming in his eyes.

“What was your nightmare about?”

Yoongi’s stomach twists uncomfortably when images of his dream flash in front of his eyes, “You,” he starts, taking deep breaths so his throat won’t close up, “You went for a walk the night before, by yourself. Something happened, I don’t know, but hyung came and woke me up, and he was crying, and-”

“Hey, hey,” Taehyung cups Yoongi’s cheek, drawing his face to make him meet Taehyung’s eyes, “Breathe, okay? You’re panicking again. It’s okay.”

“Okay,” Yoongi sucks in a deep breath before he continues, slower this time, “He told me you’d been attacked, I don’t know, you didn’t make it to the hospital on time,” he’s crying again, he realizes, tears burning his raw cheeks, “I didn’t even say goodnight the night before, I never got to say goodbye, you were just gone . There was so much crying, Jiminie,” he’s shaking again, holding back sobs, “Jiminie was sobbing so loudly, and Seokjin hyung had to hold me because I couldn’t stand on my own. It felt so real , I woke up and couldn’t remember if it really happened, I was just so scared.”

“But it didn’t really happen, Yoongi hyung, and I’m right here,” Taehyung leans forward and presses a kiss to Yoongi’s forehead, “I’m right here, it’s okay.”

Taehyung hugs Yoongi again, whispering reassurances in his ear again, “I feel like such a baby,” Yoongi laughs wetly.

Taehyung hums, “A baby, my baby, my baby hyung,” he teases and Yoongi laughs again, “Do you want to sleep here, baby?”

Yoongi flushes pink at the pet name but nods, “If that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay, of course, as long as you can deal with my clinginess.”

“I was just about to ask if this means I get your cuddles,” Yoongi smiles softly against Taehyung’s neck.

“Always,” Taehyung pets his hair before pulling away, “Let’s get you under these covers, baby.”

Yoongi shakes his head fondly, allowing Taehyung to move him under the blankets. When they’re both under the covers, their eyes having adjusted to the dark already enough for them to move comfortably, Taehyung hugs Yoongi to his chest, their legs entangled. Yoongi’s hands clutch Taehyung’s shirt and he feels like he can’t ever be close enough to Taehyung right now. Taehyung hugs him as close as possible anyway, giving Yoongi’s head another kiss, “Sleep, hyung. It’s okay. I’m right here.”

Yoongi’s making dinner for everyone to sit down and share for the first time in a while. It’s been three days since his nightmare, and neither he nor Taehyung have told anyone about it. Taehyung treats him a little differently, but not in a way that Yoongi minds. It’s small things, like sitting closer, and touching Yoongi more casually. It’s nice.

Yoongi’s almost finished with dinner when Taehyung walks to the door, “Where are you going, Tae-ah? Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Oh, hey, hyung! I won’t be gone long, I’m just gonna go for a walk, get some fresh air. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

“Last night, he told Jungkookie he’d be right back, he was just going for a walk. Someone found him in the park, Yoongi, he was attacked.”

Yoongi drops the spoon he’s using to stir, freezing.

“Hyung?” Taehyung calls, frowning, “I’m just going for a walk, I’ll be right back.”

“No,” Yoongi says, and he hears how loud he says it belatedly. Taehyung flinches. His yell seems to attract attention from the connecting living room where the others are.

“Everything okay?” Namjoon calls. Yoongi ignores him.

“No?” Taehyung repeats, confused, “It’s just a walk, I’ll be back in no time.”

“No, you can’t,” Yoongi snaps again and he can feel how his voice wavers, “You can’t, I won’t let you.”

The others are standing and watching them now but Yoongi doesn’t care, watching instead as realization dawns on Taehyung’s face.

“Oh, hyung,” he rushes forward, trying to cup Yoongi’s face in his hands but Yoongi shrugs him off, turning away to hide his tears that have begun to form, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think. I’m so sorry.”

Yoongi’s shoulders shake as he speaks in a wet voice, “You can’t, Taehyung, I can’t,” he’s cut off when he makes eye contact with Taehyung and the younger man pulls him into a hug.

“I’m sorry, I won’t go.”

“I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t lose me. I’m right here, I won’t go. I’m not going anywhere.”

Yoongi cries into Taehyung’s shoulder, “I’m so stupid, this is so stupid, it wasn’t even real .”

“It’s okay, you’re not stupid, it’s not stupid if it’s hurting you.”

Yoongi pulls back, wiping his tears and laughing humorlessly, “I’m sorry, Tae, I didn’t mean to yell at you, but,” he takes a shaky breath, “Please don’t go, will you stay? I’ll be so worried.”

“Of course, don’t apologize, it’s okay,” Taehyung smiles. They’re interrupted when Jungkook clears his throat awkwardly.

“Hyung, are you okay?” He asks Yoongi, and Yoongi nods.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. I had a nightmare a few nights ago, a bad one. Taehyungie just reminded me of it, but it’s fine. I’m fine.”

Seokjin crosses the kitchen and looks into the pot, “Dinner looks ready,” he casts a smile at Yoongi, “Let’s forget about it with good food, yeah?”

That night, after dinner, Taehyung asks if Yoongi will sleep in his room again. Yoongi agrees, and when he’s ready for bed he meets Taehyung there.

“Hey, hyung?” Taehyung bites his lip, “If it had been someone else, would it have scared you as much?”

“What?”

“I mean, if it had been Jungkookie, or Jiminie. Would you have panicked as much when you woke up?”

Yoongi swallows thickly, “It felt so real, Taehyungie, it would have been scary no matter who it was,” he sits down beside Taehyung, “But it was different, because it was you.”

“Different how?”

“Well,” he laughs softly, “I’m not in love with Jiminie or Jungkookie, for starters,” Taehyung’s mouth drops open in a soft ‘o’, “I had been so afraid that I’d lost you before I could tell you that. I was still afraid these last few days that I might lose the chance to tell you. Until right now, I guess.”

“You’re in love with me?”

Yoongi looks up at Taehyung who’s staring at him in shock, but not unkindly, “Yeah,” Yoongi breathes in response quietly.

Taehyung leans forward and pulls Yoongi into a brief hug. When he lets go he’s grinning, “I love you too,” he kisses Yoongi’s forehead.

Yoongi had been pretty sure for a long time that Taehyung felt the same way, but he was worried about how it would affect the group, so he never said anything. Now, he doesn’t know why he was so afraid to begin with. This is Taehyung , and it’s Yoongi , and it’s just them . He’d do anything to be able to be with him.

“You missed,” Yoongi smirks, and Taehyung laughs, leaning forward again and pressing their lips together. They fit together easily, like they were meant for each other.

“Hyung, I can’t kiss you if you’re smiling,” Taehyung says against Yoongi’s mouth, but he’s smiling too, both of them trying desperately to stop their lips from revealing their teeth.

“I can’t help it,” Yoongi laughs, cupping Taehyung’s face, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#taegi #taegi fic #bts taegi #taehyung x yoongi #yoongi x taehyung #kim taehyung #min yoongi #nightmare fic #emotional hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #angst #fluff #getting together #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #bts fanfiction #BTS fanfic #literal sleeping together

[angstyaches]

🥰📚 I think both of these together would be cute for Shayne and Charlie :)

Sorry it took me a minute! The last one had a similar prompt, so I took a tiny break and also reversed the roles!

🥰📚 - post nightmare cuddles + bedtime story

Ask Game | 100 Word Drabbles

27. Ensnare

CW: nightmare/crying aftermath.

___

“Vincent the bear…” Shayne paused to kiss the nape of Charlie’s neck. “… Decided to go on an adventure one day.”

Charlie burrowed further down the pillow, where the pillowcase was dry of tears. His spine curled, and Shayne shifted to follow him into the new position, arms still gently ensnaring Charlie’s waist.

“His owner… um, Marley –”

“Marley?” Charlie whispered through a grin.

“Yeah, shut up. Marley left his backpack open near the bed that morning.” Shayne’s hand idly stroked Charlie’s belly. “So, Vincent waited until Marley was having a shower and then he climbed down from the locker..."

#StW Charlie #100 word drabbles #drabbles #whump #hurt comfort #hurt and comfort #nightmare mention #crying mention #hurt comfort fic #nightmare fic

[noah-moth-cursed-chaos]

Polyblank awoke with a loud gasp, bolting outright and reaching out for someone that wasn’t there. He looked around in a panic, chest heaving with every breath, and realized…

He was in Editor’s room.

He could make out the shapes of the furniture, the outlines of the wall decor, Editor himself was sleeping soundly beside him.

He curled up on himself, trying to steady his breathing, but instead he just ended up sobbing. He had nightmares a lot. Normally he woke up, he was on edge for a few moments, then he was fine. There were really only two nightmares he had that screwed with him. He’d had the worse one tonight.

It was still flashing through his mind.

His mom wasn’t moving.

He couldn’t feel his legs.

He was pretty sure the car was sideways, everything felt wrong and everything felt like pain and he kept calling for his mother but there wasn’t any reply. Hell. That twisted heap of once living metal didn’t even look like the woman who’d raised him anymore.

He couldn’t feel or move his legs.

He was in so much pain and his mom was dead and he couldn’t-

“Darling?” A groggy voice next to him snapped Poly out of his thoughts. He probably looked pitiful, sniffling and sobbing like this, all shook up. The bedside lamp switched on and he heard a quiet gasp as Editor saw the state of his partner.

‘I’m fine-‘ He’d tried to begin signing, attempting to come up with some excuse for him crying like a baby, but Editor had grabbed a tissue, wiping his tears from under his eye, before folding it over, and wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“Bad dream?” His voice was soft, it’d taken Poly a while to get used to that, to Ed being soft. It was foreign when it started, completely foreign to see this terrifying crime lord look at him and act sweet and caring, but he had really came to adore it, and he couldn’t be more thankful for it now, when he felt vulnerable and scared and still couldn’t fully shake those awful memories. He just nodded after a moment. Editor grabbed another tissue, cupping Polyblank’s face gently as he wiped away more tears, “It’s okay, I’ve got you now, dearest. It was only a dream.”

Polyblank hugged Ed, pulling the shorter man to his chest and squeezing him as if everything would fall apart if he let go. Editor returned the embrace, rubbing gentle circles into his back., “Shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m right here.”

It was a while before he was calm, but eventually the two ended up laying down again, Poly curled up to his head could rest comfortably on Editor’s chest, and Editor running his fingers through his hair.

‘I don’t want to go back to sleep.’ Poly signed. He really didn’t. He felt okay now, but the idea of having another dream like that…

“Then you won’t.” Editor replied, “Do you want to get up and do something?” He offered. Polyblank shook his head.

‘I just want to stay here like this.’

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

‘… Ed?’

“Yes, Poly dearest?“

‘Thank you.’

#PolyEd #nightmare fic #writing #my writing

[ninjastormhawkkat]

12?/???

Tw. me lowkey Panicking (suddenly turned into a nightmare kinda)

It wasn't a hard choice.

Breaking the machine would set macaroons plans back alot and would be more progress towards helping everyone.

But that meant of course I was locked in. I kept ramming the door trying to get out. I couldn't leave the same way I came so I wasn't sure if this would lead me deeper into the building or out with everyone else

It did get a bit eerie and slightly n like a nightmare because of the lighting. I couldn't see much except whenever the red alarm lights would flash. And the consistent wails of the alarm sirens grated my ear drums.

Then the alarms suddenly stop and it was deathly quiet.

A door slammed close and bright light flickers one. Red still. like the stone mayor macaroni had at the interview.

"gotcha." Came the evil mayor's voice from the speakers.

And then my vision turned black

It turns out it was all just a trap. And it worked oof

du du du du.

#wordgirl #wordgirl au #dr two brains #melodythebunny #answered ask #dream fic #unfair city au #wordgirl ocs and canon characters #nightmare fic

[lover-of-mine]

Wip Wednesday!

I was tagged by @daffi-990 @wikiangela thank you 🩷

Imma share a bit of nightmare fic because it's close to being done (I think, I may be wrong, who knows, not me) that's a random idea that happened quite literally at 3 am where Buck has a nightmare while sleeping on Eddie's couch because of a call with a gunshot victim, Eddie wakes him up and because I am who I am, they talk about the shooting. I am taking a second to think this idea through a bit more, because shit got dark here for a second and I'm still trying to determine where it would go from here, but have this.

But Buck didn't seem ready to talk. He just shifted, moving so he could drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, before nodding slightly and hiding his face on his neck. That was also new, Buck allowing himself to seek comfort. So Eddie waits, lets his hand find Buck's hair, fingers lazily moving through it until he relaxes against him. "I thought you were dead," Buck mumbles into his skin, still hiding, almost as if he's hoping that if he stays like this, it can't hurt him. "It was just a bad dream," Eddie tries to reassure him, fingers still moving on his hair, but he shakes his head. "No, not- not now, I mean, yes, in the dream too, but when you- I thought you were dead. You went down and you were looking at me, but then you weren't and I- I thought you were dead," Buck explains and Eddie breathes out a soft oh once he understands what he means.

No pressure tagging 🩷: @eddiebabygirldiaz @bucks118 @giddyupbuck @try-set-me-on-fire @disasterbuckdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @honestlydarkprincess @watchyourbuck @vampbuckley @housewifebuck

#this fic has an alternative ending kwpskaoakaokaa #as in i wrote a cookie cutter ending where the conversation doesn't get too deep but they get together #but then i was reading it back and decided i wanted to conversation to get too deep #but then shit got DARK #so im here debating my options #but yeah #nightmare fic #911 wip #buddie wip #wip wednesday #writing

[artpepkin]

"He's right behind me isn't he..."

I've read and reread @warriorstale001 's amazing fic "One Small Difference" twice now and this image stays glued in my head!! If you haven't already I highly recommend checking out this fic, it may not be complete but it absolutely rips your heart to pieces and is easily one of my favs <3

In my heart Nightmare is so sorry and the very next morning he goes to see Dream and immediately has a change of heart and they both go to therapy and Dream goes to the doctor 🧡

Version without the text below the cut! <3

#i literally cried for a solid 5 mins as if i didnt know EXACTLY what was gonna happen already #the way he screwed up INFINITELY bad #*shaking this nightmare* LOOK WHAT YOU DID!!!! #undertale #undertale au #utmv #undertale multiverse #sans au #undertale sans au #nightmare sans #passive nightmare sans #artpepkin #warriorstale001 #one small difference #fic fanart #OSDiff

[em-writes-stuff]

whumpcember day 30

@whumpcember

prompt: nightmares (alt. 1)

warnings: fire

characters: spencer

262 words

---

Fire scorched the walls, lapping at the tapestries and turning them to ash before Spencer’s eyes. He sat on his bed, watching the fire destroy his room.

Windows shattered and his bedposts creaked with heat, but he remained unmoved and unalarmed. 

With gentle movements, Spencer made his way to his desk and picked up his notebook. He took his charcoal in hand and started to draw. First, the window. Now most of it laid in the courtyard, but what remained was transferred to paper almost effortlessly. The page filled quickly, the flames on the page taking shape before Spencer’s eyes. 

The door was shoved open and Spencer jumped out of his chair. He crumpled his paper in his hand and threw it in the fire, hiding it from whoever intruded. 

His father stood in the doorway, chest heaving with heavy breaths. “Timothy! Stop this at once!” 

Spencer tilted his head, “Stop what?” 

“The fire, you idiot.” his father retorted, eyes rolling in annoyance. 

Spencer blinked, “What do you mean?” 

Before his father could respond, Spencer jolted awake, he looked around his room. 

There was no fire. For some reason, Spencer was disappointed, his shoulders slouched and he frowned. 

With his heart nearly pounding out of his chest, Spencer walked to his desk and took his sketchbook and charcoal from the secret drawer and sat down. 

He drew the flames from his dream, letting them take their form on his page. When he was done, he ripped the page out and tore it up, tossing it in a neat pile on his floor. 

#whumpcember #whumpcember2022 #whumpcember 2022 #whump #whump fic #nightmares #nightmare fic #spencer dedwulf #not to tag with ocs but #my ocs #my writing #em writes #em writes stuff

[ikarakie]

the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.

he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.

the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.

he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.

"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.

"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.

wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.

"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.

"changing your tire, sir?"

"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.

"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.

was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."

"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.

he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.

"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"

it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.

"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"

wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.

(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.

when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.

steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)

#wayne makes a joke like ur the munsons guardian angel #eddie agrees when he wakes up #steve is glowing with praise #praise him please he deserves it #steve was driving home from robins after they both had a nightmare abt the russians and needed to see each other/go for a walk btw #stranger things #prompt #steddie #steve harrington #imagine #stranger things prompt #eddie munson #steddie prompt #steve and eddie #steddie fic #steddie hc #steddie headcanon #steddie ficlet #wayne munson #steve and wayne