nightmaresgiven

[nightmaresgiven]

Hi all! For now Cosmo is going to be a guest muse over at @carouselofmusess! If you want to interact with him, please head over there!

[nightmaresgiven]

Making an in-person appearance wasn't something he often did, especially not for just any old schmuck. But it was clear from their first introduction that this guy wasn't just a regular schmuck. Oh and he was very interested indeed! He hasn't had that much fun in a dream in a long long time! It even beat out the reocurring deer nightmares he was giving this other poor sap! Ha!

Artair speaks to him and his neck-- twists. Suddenly, violently, bone and tendons snapping as Cosmo turns his head to look directly at him, face to face. "Oh it's no mistake lamb ears, just wanted to see how comfy you were on the outside, too! I gotta say, it's been a long time since I've sat in a chair made of skin stretched over basically just bone, it's nostalgic! I like it."

△ MINE △

Sitting in My lap

Artair is at the bar--- he just wanted a drink. He didn't do it often, because--- what was the point? But sometimes it was nice to exist. Especially in a space where.... nobody gave a shit if he did. Sometimes it was nice to know a world existed outside of his own bullshit.

And he was fine being in the atmosphere, drinking, taking in all the ambience and people watching--- until someone sits directly in his lap.

Uh?

Artair blinks, looking at the back of..... some guy's head, his dark green curly hair, and what looked like--- a very small caplet? Was this guy in cosplay? Also--- he had to be drunk, right? He did just kinda plop down directly in his lap.

"Uh-- hey bud-- I think you might've mistaken me for a chair or something." He keeps his voice polite, playful even, even if he can feel his hackles threatening to raise at being stuck underneath a random stranger. "If you want the chair that bad, I'll move. But would you mind hopping up, first?"

[nightmaresgiven]

Cosmo sits straight up in his own bed when it's all over, a gasp as his hands find the places on his body those teeth had shredded him apart. He's not used to being ejected so forcefully! So... violently. It's like he can still feel the frenzy of teeth mauling him, tearing pieces of him apart one by one. One hand trails up to his neck where his head had been bitten off, lingering for just a moment before shifting up onto his cheek. His eyes lid, and then close entirely-- he's smiling. Like some school girl with a crush.

"Wow, talk about a charmer! Really got me all torn up. Mm... here, a parting gift!" The hand not on his cheek raises and he snaps-- solidifying that the damage he had done to Artair in his dream was going to be real. The next time he awoke, he'd be all sliced open and have a nice big knick in his lung.

"Stop stop stop stop stop stop stop...." Artair's voice blends into the background. The eyes are wide on both occupants outside of him, where they have manifested throughout the room, in a myriad of golds and greens.

The room is beating faster in an earnest and pulsating rhythm. Loud enough the room itself starts to rumble. Excitement and fear are the same when it comes to the adrenaline. Artair is on the ground clutching at his chest as dark ichor spills like tears from his eyes and leaves his mouth in thick tarry spatters. His mouth is open too far and seems to be splitting at the corners, parting for something dark that crawls forward from inside. It looks like black leather and something with a solid tip like a beak. Blood is spilling where his face rips to accommodate the passage. The rapid crescendo of beating lifeblood drowns out any muffled screams.

The lights flicker, bouncing with a fluorescent blinking between on and off. The whispers are louder but they make less sense, overlapping into a cacophony of voices at different volumes and pitches. The walls are starting to leak. The beat is faster, faster.

Faster.

The creature says nothing to Cosmo. It's great antlers like reaching hands tip just the slightest bit sideways. There is no visual to be taken in, but darkness, thick and black. The only thing that looks different is pinpoint lights of green like eyes, and some kind of fur which seems to drape from them like a coat that swallows their form entirely. They Stare and do not blink.

There's a flutter behind him, and white, glowing wings take up the space around him, caging him in. Artair is standing now, but a mask is over his face. A leather one, with a crooked beak and unreflecting green lenses. His hair is alight like a candle, but his body hangs limp while still standing. The wings are each tipped with a sharp bladed knife, as if the feathers were dipped in silver. Artair's knees are buckling as blood and viscera spills from him. Cosmo is between the two.

Deathly low, a voice speaks. Everything else stills in that beat, a silence so empty of chaos that a whisper rings deafening.

"You. Do not. Belong here."

It sounds as if the voice who spoke might have been Artair's, by location. But it is so clear, unmuffled, and it is nothing like the voice Artair has used at all. It holds no intonation, cold, empty, and far too low and rasping.

As Cosmo is looking at Artair, as he opens his mouth with a remark to combat the tension, Something dark and damp and cold collapses around his head, plunging him into a sightless voice. He has enough time to realize whatever holds him is lined with teeth, some great mouth, before the jaws snap shut. With no effort, skin and meat and spine and vertebrae part, in a clean and ragged edge. He is still aware for that last and final breath, heartbeat loud and the deep sound of breathing as he sinks into the void. The rest of his body feels sharp teeth frenzy into his flesh with ravenous intentions.

Once he is in pieces, it ends.

[nightmaresgiven]

Cosmo is laughing, following Artair with every move. He falls off the table so Cosmo crawls atop it, and then hops back down so that they're on the same side again. He seems intent on not giving the other a single ounce of breathing room-- or maybe he wants to give him just enough that he can feel the choking even slower.

He makes a little "oh!" noise when the blades clash and his isn't the one that goes flying, but that malevolent grin on his face shows every ounce of just how much he's enjoying this. "Well, maybe you should start! Besides, it's never really the dying you have to worry about is it? It's what's going to happen to you that makes you wish you were! And trust me, if you're unkillable then I'd be more than happy to find out just how far that goes! Maybe I'll start with that scalpel of yours-- I'm sure it would take an awfully long time to skin someone of your size with something like that! Or maybe you-- huh?"

His grin falls away to a look of confusion at the now audible low whispering around them, a repeating of you don't belong here's. Which could be normal on its own-- dreams and all that-- but the entire room thumping and effecting everything inside of it is weird. An eyebrow raises as he feels it beneath his feet, and then... eyes? Huh! He could've sworn he hadn't been using any of those! Especially not on himself.

"Well that's weird! I could've sworn I kept those up my sleeve this time." He reaches behind him and with a jingling of bells pulls back a green star-shaped mirror. He looks at himself in it, but only for a moment before noticing the figure standing behind him. He rolls his eyes. "Hey pal, this gig's already booked! Why don't you go find something else to go torment tonight?"

"Shut up!" Artair sounds more desperate than afraid. While the bone saw is finding its way into a hand, Artair slips his legs free of the lower belt pinning them down. He scrambles, trying to put the table between them by getting off on the other side when the first swipe comes close, but he falls when his legs-- don't cooperate. On the ground, he retches in a rapid pool of his own blood and flesh. He turns on his back, because he has to, but he's sure some of him does not follow.

"D---deviant---" He can't even fathom what he's saying, can't fathom how he's not--- dying. dead. It hurts, it hurts but he's still here it doesn't make sense. His heart thuds as the bone saw impacts the scalpel-- with a flash of silver, it spirals away, ringing against the floor. Artair backs up as Cosmo approaches, breath faster. "I'm not-- not scared -- of you-- you can't-- kill me." His head is filling with more static, the stuff soaking his brain and staining it with green. The thought he doesn't belong is getting louder and louder and he swear it's echoing in the room-- it's too loud, much too loud, and he curls closer to himself with wide eyes, clutching at his head.

The whole room seemed to thud like a vast heartbeat, things on the shelves and counters toppling or bouncing as it reverberated through the space. Once.

Again.

Faster.

Eyes, marks shaped like them, open from the darkest shadows, all pointed at Cosmo.

[nightmaresgiven]

He's too busy nursing his own aching cheek to notice the other's stupidly persistent ascent at first, but when he finally does he rolls his eyes and straightens himself back out. He's grinning again, somehow. "Aww look at you, with that pitiful thing!" He extends his hand and the previously discarded pile of medical tools rattles, until an old-timey bonesaw flies into his waiting grip. "Mine's still bigger though! Be fun to take a few swings at you with this, huh? You're lucky you're not spilling your guts as it is! One well placed swipe and I bet your entrails would be right on the floor!" He sounds like he deeply enjoys that idea. And in fact he takes a step closer, swinging his new weapon at the other as he does to see what he'll do about it.

"It's cute. You must be feeling awfully brave you know, to try and stand up to me. Or maybe! Maybe you're just scared and stupid! You hold yourself fine but don't think I can't hear how your voice wobbles!" He barks a mean laugh, and swings again-- but mostly to scare the other. "Well!? Which is it? Do I scare you, you deviantart reject? Are you afraid of being here, again? At someone's mercy, again?"

He jabs into him with that fucking scalpel, and that's enough. Artair lets out another discordant, static-lined wail as the fist collides with the fucker's skull. Artair breathes heavily, shaking hand covered in his own gore yanking out the scalpel where it's embedded in his chest.

He shouldn't be able to breathe, but he does. His lungs are filled with choking blood but they breathe around it too. He uses the tool on the restraints to sever them as fast as their shaking hands allow. The clown is still recovering, but when it yells at him, asks him what he did-- he doesn't know. He's hurting and frazzled. Artair just holds the scalpel out like a weapon, the other hand pulling the strap off his chest the rest of the way.

"Don't-- -don't get any closer." His tone wavers, but still carries a threat. His eyes are brighter. "I don't know what's going on but--- but I'm not supposed to be here. You're not supposed to be here." He didn't know why he said that. But it felt right, correct, like a label on his confusion.

[nightmaresgiven]

"Well clearly my goal here was to make you flirt with me! And I'd say you did a pretty good job, lamb-ears!"

".... What do you even want, my guy. What is your goal here?? If it's to be confusing, then you're definitely succeeding."

[nightmaresgiven]

"Oh that's alright, I always get what I want in the end! It's not your fault you just play into my hand that easy!"

@nightmaresgiven

"Damn. Task failed successfully 😔. "

[nightmaresgiven]

It's always a treat, remembering just how easy it is to get into human skin! You see it and feel it and think it'd be hard to cut-- or at least really annoying! Like that wrapping paper your scissors just don't wanna cut so it keeps stopping and bunching up and ruining your edge. But skin was mostly like the good wrapping paper, especially when you've got a nice sharp pair of scissors to cut with! The scissors being a metaphor for a scalpel, of course.

Cosmo is leaned in where he's slicing Artair open, eyes wide and downright starry as he watches the gore practically bloom before him. "Ahh, isn't it refreshing going back to the classics sometimes? This is great!" He laughs, not that he thinks the other could really hear him. Seemed a bit too busy screaming. Guess it doesn't matter! He wouldn't really know what he was talking about anyway!

He can tell he knicked the lung, though. Too much blood coming up through the airway. At least it was fun seeing him choke! "Pretty stupid of you to be so thrash-y you know! I wasn't ready for your lungs yet. But you know what they say about Rooome~!" He shrugs widely, removing the scalpel from its first incision to put it up to the cut lung. He only manages to stick it farther into that first cut when he sees movement though, too much of it, and he only gets out a "Wait huh-" before he's punched and then elbowed right in the face. He cries out as he stumbles back, knees pulling up enough to reveal that he's floating off of the floor. His hands are on his face, and his hat jingles as it goes spinning farther back before returning to its rightful place.

"Agh! You stupid little--!! How did you do that?!"

"No--- No I don't-- I got out, I went through that whole bullshit with the keys-- and then I got shot and I have the scar I can see it and--- I'm not supposed to be here!"

His protests don't do much-- in fact they do nothing at all. He thrashes like a pinned animal all the way up until that scalpel is held above him like a dramatic frame in a horror movie. His mouth tumbles with protests still, but his body seems to paralyze without his say, staying conveniently still and unmoving for the sharp-edged plunge.

Artair shrieks as agony shreds through him. His body convulses as the blade is forced through skin, fat, muscle, tissues cleaving and burning as they're severed by his scalpel. His body arches on the cold slab he's strapped to-- except that only makes that rending worse as it jams the blade deeper.

He can hear his heart and pulse hammering in his ears to a point he can't hear that fucker speaking at all. Or at least, he can't comprehend it when all his thoughts are a hive of angry wasps stinging his skull. Blood streaks his chest like paint, and he feels it spilling into his lungs and choking him from where the blade nicked them while slicing into his diaphragm. He coughs and blood lines his lips and chin and the sides of his face where it spills down, except where droplets collect in a coughing spray.

The scalpel moves and his voice garbles into some kind of inhuman scream, voices overlaying and glitching in and out. "STop STOP STOP STOP--!" He's screaming and his throat rattles with blood and feels like he's tearing something out of it as more of him is split open, down to his navel. The cold feeling of before, of this not being right still lingers, stronger now. His voice dies out, his ears are ringing, and the rest of the room and his senses are white noise. But it's not real, it's not real, it feels so fucking real but it's not it can't be it doesn't make sense it's not real---

The panicked words are almost meaningless like this. But he clings to them while he looses a banshee's wail. All he can think is to get away-- and for a second, illogically, he manages, when one of his arms that had been strapped suddenly isn't, and he clocks this fucking clown with his fist and then his elbow in a desperate left hook.

[nightmaresgiven]

"Yeah well that's the thing about those stupid changes of heart, huh? Gotta get replaced at that point! I'm doing the replacing!" It wasn't a lie, technically. He was replacing things... but more so in a 'taking the place another person would be in the dream' kind of replace! "Don't worry, you definitely belong here! I would know."

Really though he's been far too patient so far! And as fun as watching him squirm when skin meets cold metal-- a very visually similar reaction to skin meeting very hot metal, actually!- he's ready to get to the real fun part. "Oh don't be such a baby! It's only gonna hurt a lot!" Cosmo 'reassures' in a playful tone, raising that big (perhaps a touch too big) scalpel high before bringing it down again.

And he doesn't stop until he's stabbed down into the other's diaphragm. "First blood! Ooh isn't this part always just so exciting?" He savors the moment for just a few seconds, watching golden shimmered crimson bubble up around the steel before he wraps his hand better around the blade's handle and starts pulling it slowly down.

He's still thinking, but then he frowns. "No-- you aren't. You're not her assistant." He says it slowly, staring at this guy with drawn brows. Where was he really? The room seems to waver but he feels-- disconnected from the thought, the place. He feels weird, but he knows one thing. He shouldn't be here. There's an insistent feeling of that, at least, like cold breath at his back and fingers on his arms. "You aren't-- her assistant-- it was a depressed and kinda inept teenager. You look the part of goofy, but you're not... you're definitely not him. And I remember. He had a change of heart. I.... I shouldn't be here."

The thought is helpful, but it hardly matters when he still is here. He knows something is wrong, but it's hard to coalesce his thoughts into something to understand exactly what that is. It's harder still to remember when his skin presses to the cold metal, as his shirt dissipates into air. He makes a sound, and while a thread of not right forms, the rest of him is very busy with being tied down, this green asshole, and the scalpel in his hand.

What he was saying only had the sinking feeling worse. "Hey-- HEY! NO! Don't fucking touch me." He jerks away, the restraints creaking from how hard he pulled them, trying to get distance from Cosmo's approach. "Stay away-- no, don't you--- just STOP--."

[nightmaresgiven]

"Can I just say, I love people who have coulrophobia. It's so funny! I show up, and I've already won! I can do whatever I want from then on out and they'll just fall to pieces!"

[nightmaresgiven]

Bio

🌀 Basic Information 🌀

Full Name: “Wouldn’t you like to know!”

Alias/Nickname: Koszmar / Cosmo

Species: Dream eater

Age: “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady her age?”

Date of Birth: Unknown

Nationality: “You don’t actually think I’m from Earth, do you?”

Accent: American

Blood Type: Non-human

Pronouns: He/Him (Doesn’t particularly care what you call him, though)

Sexuality: Unknown

Relationship Status: Single

Occupation: “To give you nightmares!” Unknown

Residence: “In your mind!” Unknown

🌀 Physical Traits 🌀

Height: Variable, can change his height at will as he appears in your mind

Eye Color(s): Blue, with green swirls

Hair Color(s): Dark green, with a lighter green streak

Notable Features: The swirls in his eyes are constantly, slowly spinning. His arrival is always notified by a jingling bell noise. His large jester type hat actually floats just slightly off of his head; it moves and reacts just like it would as if he were wearing it normally, but on a slight delay. His eyes and the bottoms of his shoes glow. He is most often floating off of the ground.

Nature: Playful, malevolent

🌀 Art Ref (will be updated when possible) 🌀

[nightmaresgiven]

Rules

♡ I will track the tag nightmaresgiven ♡

♡ This is an in-character rp and ask blog for my OC. Please don’t take my designs or adopt them for yourself, unless you have my explicit permission.  ♡

♡ If you have a question or issue, please let me know! Relatedly, my muses will have backgrounds that might get alluded to in threads but won’t be explained unless it comes up. If you have questions, feel free to throw them my way and I’ll answer what I can! ♡

♡ I and all of my muses are 21+, so if you want to do something a bit more mature I am willing. I most likely won’t write any sexual nsfw on tumblr, but if I do it will be tagged ‘NSFT’ and put under a read more. I will only write sexual nsfw with people I’m close to. ♡

♡ Magical!Anons are welcome! If you do send in, please try to add a reasonable time limit (longer than a week is a bit too much unless you ask and get my permission). ♡

♡ I am going to be selective in what I rp. I will answer asks and reply to things! But while this is a rp blog and I want to interact with friends, I also only have so much energy and attention span. I would probably consider myself more casual with a few important rps I’ll put more energy into. I also have the right to refuse to answer RPs or starters or asks. ♡

♡ No autohitting, godmodding, or metagaming. If you want something to happen specifically, feel free to talk to me and we can discuss it. ♡

♡ I may be short in my replies. I will always give at least a paragraph or two (maybe more if I get inspired) but even if you give me several pages, my reply may be shorter. I will always try to give you enough to work with, though. If I haven’t given you enough, let me know. ♡

♡ I do not ship characters unless it develops naturally. ♡

♡ All of the art featured on the blog is from the wonderfully talented ArthurTristanKingmen. (Please check out their blog because they’re an amazing artist and person!!!) Icons will be a mix of art from them or from official sources.  ♡

♡ This blog will contain triggering material such as gore, violence, cannibalism, etc. Most of it will be untagged unless it has something to do with self harm or injured animals. Any triggers tagged will be in the format [cw: “trigger”] just without the brackets. ♡

♡ As a result of this, I am uncomfortable interacting with minors. 18+ only, please! ♡

♡ If you read through this, then thank you very much! I appreciate you looking at my blog and checking out my rules!! If you want to break the ice, you can send me the password ’*Gives the bunny a pat*’! ♡

[nightmaresgiven]

Cosmo enters the room and goes directly for the table of neatly placed surgical equipment, picking each one up and hardly regarding it before tossing it behind him over his shoulder. "Don't you worry about that too much, I'm her assistant! And I'll be stepping in for your extraction today. She's very busy, you know." Sure he had no idea who she was, and he didn't really care! Most people weren't lucid enough to call him out on all the blatant lying. Dream logic, and all that!

"Ah-ha!" After almost all of the other tools had been tossed away he's left holding up his prize- the biggest scalpel on the table- triumphantly. "Here we go, I'm sure this'll be perfect for getting under your skin." But then he regards Artair closer. He's... still dressed. Ugh. What a pain. He tilts his head, there's another jingling of bells, and would you look at that! Someone has already prepped his patient by disrobing him of his top half of clothing. How very thoughtful!

"I don't really believe in anesthesia so we're gonna go in fully aware! Okay? Sounds good!" He chimes cheerfully, pushing the table of tools away with his foot as he moves up close next to the side of the table.

Artair fights his bindings, bits of him seeming to break off beneath the heavy straps. He struggles almost more than makes sense, his body able to move, to twist and pull and rise off the table as he bucks, but illogically, the belt still tethers him down.

And yet, all of it comes to a screeching halt when he sees--- not who he expected. At all. Nothing about him is familiar, not the caplet, not the mess of deep green hair, not the giant fucking clown hat (though it did bring to mind Steph). Nothing about the person staring at him, grinning wide and speaking is--- remotely familiar. Not even an iota.

Artair doesn't go slack, but he does freeze in place almost, staring at the guy with the most flabbergasted face a man is capable of making. "H---What?" It's all he manages, blinking several times. "Wait--- huh--- who the fuck are you? What?"

[nightmaresgiven]

@townofcadence from here

He doesn't remember how he got here. Artair feels metal beneath him, the hard surface uncomfortable and cold. His arms are strapped down with leather belts far too thick to make sense. A test of movement, and his legs are restrained as well. Artair's breath catches. It smells like the same cleaner, the same antiseptic scent he remembers. He squirms in place, yanking on the buckles binding his hands down. They don't budge. A glance around only confirms things. He's on a table, and he can see the stand of surgical tools placed carefully nearby. There's a deep-welled sink in the corner, and glass cabinets filled with things-- both reagents for the kind of work one would do on a table such as this, and others that glow, or move, specimens of others like him. The beat of his heart is hammering behind his ribs. He kicks his legs, he wrenches his arms. The force might dislocate something, but that hardly matters. It already feels like his chest is on fire, and all he can think is get out get out get out--. The door opens across the room. Artair struggles harder, eyes wide and aglow and sharp teeth bared, seeing a silhouette backlit by white light. His brain fills with static and he can't breath and his ribs itch and ache and all his insides vice tight enough to suffocate. It has to be a dream--- he's not here anymore. He not. He thrashes wildly, the effort near drowning out the faintest sound of jingling bells.

It wasn't often that he found one's who had so much good material to work with! Most people were so boring, their worst nightmares dealt with showing up somewhere important with no clothes, or being ostracized from society somehow. But this one! Ohhhh this one was his very own sweet nightmare come true! This mind was rich with turmoil and unrest, so many things the subconscious was struggling with on its own.

It had been so hard to pick just one thing to play with!

But it's been awhile since he's really gotten his hands dirty, and what better way to do so than by putting them inside of someone? Physically, at least, if you think about it he was in people all the time-- in their minds! But that was a different kind of mess.

And he gets to make such a dramatic entrance, here! The door creaks open slow, revealing a silhouette too familiar for comfort to the other. And then he pauses, lets him really soak in that fear, before moving into the room. The silhouette that was oh so familiar shifted until, well-- Cosmo isn't disguising himself, and he certainly looks different from some evil broad or whatever went down here. Felt too literal to be one of those metaphor dreams!

"Hey there, no need to be so im-patient!" He laughs at his own pun. "I'll get you cut open here real soon!"

[nightmaresgiven]

;;EEEEEEEEE LOOK AT HIM!!!!! he looks amazing, thank you so much!! You captured him so well!!!

Commission for @nightmaresgiven of their OC dream demon, Cosmo! He was very fun to draw :D

[nightmaresgiven]

    𝚃𝚑𝚎  𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔  𝙿𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜  𝙰𝚗𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚢                            …  𝙰𝚜𝚔𝚜 & 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚜

made, as best as possible, gender neutral, taken from ‘the dark pictures anthology: man of medan’ — an interactive survival-horror video game, set on a ship but i have altered it to be location-neutral as best i can.     others from the anthology found here.

“ you think i wanted to hurt anybody? i didn’t get a choice in this, did i? ”

“ you know it’s not polite to ask one about their money?”

“ not a sole survivor!  haha, you weren’t trying to do that, were you? ”

“ you didn’t fucking see that!? … right. no. of course you didn’t. ”

“ we can’t just sit around. we need a plan.”

“ have mercy… no… listen to me, no, don’t do this… ”

“ you’re all in this together! this is a trap and you set us up! ”

“ what the hell was wrong with you back there? ”

“ to descend into the unknown alone is extremely brave, or extremely foolish. perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye. ”

“ this whole place is a floating deathtrap. ”

“ i mean it’s - something is fucking with me. it’s fucking with me, man. it’s just - it’s just fucking with me. ”

“ anyway, look to the future, i say. ”

“ that! it-it w-was… didn’t you see it? okay, so i’m seeing things, but you’re not… ”

“ i’m the captain now! ”

“ stories of love and hate… greed and beauty… life… and death. stories such as this one. ”

“ alright! come out! show yourself! ”

“ this fuckin’ place is cursed.”

“ but you shouldn’t fear death. it is after all… inevitable. ”

“ there are always repercussions. ”

“ argh! no. no! i’m not hearing this. I’m not hearing this! ”

“ don’t fight it… it’ll only hurt more if you do. ”

“ you teeter on the edge of an abyss. ”

“ people drown in these waters and you have to respect their resting place. ”

“ i just keep going over it and over it… and it doesn’t make any sense, y'know? it just… and i know what i saw…  i just don’t believe in whatever it was i that i saw. ”

“ you’re responsible for what happens, you’re culpable. ”

“ i guess you could say i lived my greatest nightmare. ”

“ you can go fuck yourself, you piece of shit! ”

“ what the fuck is going on with this place? because i gotta be honest it feels like there’s some, like… like, evil, like literal evil going on down there. ”

“uh… you are not always going to be there to protect me, big guy. i can handle this, trust me. ”

“ i saw [NAME], and it wasn’t [NAME], it was… someone else. but they looked just like [NAME]. ”

“ let’s just stay calm, and relatively sane about this, okay? ”

“ you know what i like to hear? nothing. that’s right. nada. complete fucking silence. get it? ”

“ we’ll have the opportunity to account for all the actions that you’ve taken… or whatever mess you’ve made. ”

[nightmaresgiven]

"Hey there, don't you just love when people invade your dreams to turn those boring, nonsensical 'happy' dreams into fun, exciting nightmares? Of course you do! Everyone loves fun, unless you're some kind of square! Anyway, can't wait to invade your dreams, bye!"

Independent fandomless rp and ask blog for a dream demon oc. Please like, reblog, or reply if you're interested in interacting!

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