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randomacc28382828 · 4 months ago

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Ver 1.0

The first time Reese traveled the dreamscape was years ago. At first, the feeling of being disconnected from her body was unpleasant and unusual. Now that years have passed, she's grown accustomed to the disassociation. The endless nightly wandering, hopping from dreamscape to dreamscape.

She lies still underneath the blankets, staring up at the ceiling. Falling asleep isn't usually this difficult for her, especially after a long day of boring classes. She thinks—about Skylar, the mysteries of the school, Lazulai and.. her powers. And suddenly, there are too many thoughts in her head.

So she begins to count sheep.

One, two, three. She can feel her thoughts begin to slow, less and less things swirl in her head.

Four, five, six. Her body feels a little lighter now, a little less burdened by the stresses off the day.

Seven, eight, nine. Her eyes are starting to droop, she's falling asleep.

Ten and she's fast asleep.

Her senses feel fuzzy and heightened at the same time and her body feels familiarity light when she sits up. There's an uncanny chill that runs down her spine without the warmth of her body.

It's peculiar how little Kian actually sleeps sometimes. She creeps through the thin surface of his window and settles somewhere on the desk beside him. He's such a reserved person, but at the same time, he's so firm about rules and keeping everyone in line. He's so peculiar.

Reese reaches out to cup his jaw; he doesn't react, of course he doesn't. Somnistriders exist on a different plane of reality but they aren't like ghosts; they aren't dead, rather, they are manifestations of the human consciousness. As such, it gets lonely sometimes, being a somnistrider.

That's why they seek out dreams, to find companionship in others. To satiate curiosity, to experience something new; a different perspective, another view on the world. Reese isn't the only one and knows that much, although she's never crossed paths with another. They're scarce, hard to find; there are so many different ways a curse could manifest that somnistride is just as rare as any other affliction.

She lingers around Kian for a bit longer before she slides down the desk and onto her feet. Her footsteps make no noise or solid contact with the ground when she steps behind him. His vision doesn't become impaired when Reese slides her hands over his eyes and he doesn't feel her breath on his neck.

However, he does hear it when she finally speaks. They are ancient words, a call to somnia—as melodic as a song. Even though somnistriders cannot be perceived by any human senses, the call resonates with something that is almost beyond the realm of tangibility; a sixth sense of sorts. For some reason he just can't pin; Kian feels the need to utterly succumb to the drowsiness that overcomes him. He's out like a light.

Even after being drawn into a dreaming state, it still takes time before the body fully prepares to dream. The muscles need to prepare themselves for the dream state—lest he begins to move around in his sleep.

There's so many intricacies that come with somni striding. Her preparations don't end when Kian finally starts to dream—they have barely begun. Reese carefully slides her hand under his hair and on his forehead, where his third eye would be. A crescent Moon appears in its place, a response to her presence.

Dreams occur when the parts of the brain responsible for senses, emotions and memories become more active—the nonsensical nature of them stems from inactivity in the areas responsible for logic and processing. That's why people don't often remember their dreams, because they're just a haze of feelings and senses, not actual experiences.

Returning back to the process of somni striding, there's still more to be done. First, she needs to stabilize his dream. Consisting entirely from illogical aspects of the brain, the logic in dreams is bound to be off—that, and incredibly fragile. Any stimulus can awaken a dreamer,

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randomacc28382828 · 5 months ago

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Still not finished

Sucrose's relationship with Nox is strained at best. She likes to push his buttons, to say the least. That, and she frankly finds his controlling nature ridiculous, if not irritating at times. Despite this, he constantly needs her to do things as much as he hates to admit. And she does them for him because, well, she hasn't a clue. His authority as a "leader" has never particularly made her feel inclined to do anything for him in the past, and it really doesn't now. It's more that she trusts that he knows what he's doing; he's got some common sense at least.

That being said, it doesn't surprise her when he walks into the study, and immediately stands infront of her.

"Oh god, what do you want now?" Sucrose rolls her eyes and raises a brow.

"I haven't even said anything yet." Nox retorts and furrows his brows. "Why do you assume I want something?"

"Because you always do." She crosses her arms and visibly shifts her weight from one leg to the other. "So? Spit it out."

The echofiend audibly sighs and sets a file on the table behind her. Sucrose reaches back, picks it up, opens it slightly as if it were a book then skims it.

"We're killing governors now? What happened to all your "precise" manipulations?" The assassin asks, her tone evidently mocking. He feels like strangling her.

"It was simply easier to kill him and be done with it." Nox replies with thinly veiled irritation. The fingers on his upper set of arms twitch; what's an interaction with her if she isn't pressing his every button?

"Sounds a lot like you fucked up somewhere in the road." She continues to mock him, see how much he can take before he shuts down and shifts modes.

To her surprise, he doesn't respond in the way he usually would; jittering around, struggling to keep his composure and ultimately leaving to "go do something more productive" with his time. Instead, he just crosses his arms.

"Waiting for something?" She finally fully looks up from the file.

"Your answer, obviously." He deadpans.

"I can do it, of course." Sucrose sets the file back down. "For a price, that is."

"What do you want this time?" Nox asks sharply, quick to the point.

"Hm." That sound alone makes his anxiety rise. It's never good when she contemplates like that, it means she's thinking of another way to give him hell.

"I want to sleep with you."

"Sure, fine—what." He suddenly stops himself. For all the languages in his knowledge, he can't seem to conjure words from any of them in a coherent sentence. "You're kidding, right? Why?" He snaps; his face slowly starts to burn.

Sucrose shrugs, smirks then looks him up and down. "I'm curious. What've you got packin—" She stops when one of his hands fly up to cover her mouth and smirks against the skin.

"Shut up." Nox's whole face is on fire now, his cheeks are burning all the way to his ears. "You're a freak, you know that, right?"

"Says the one with four arms." She rolls her eyes and retorts. "What's with that look?"

The info broker looks her up and down for a good moment, weighs the pros and cons and— "Fine."

"Fine? As in–"

"I'll do it, we can sleep together." He narrows his eyes. There's no way in hell he's going to let her dominate him. "Only if I can be the one on top."

Sucrose makes an expression caught between a glare and an inquisitive look. "You're awfully particular about something that's supposed to be my payment."

Nox scoffs.

"Whatever, that works I suppose." She finally shrugs and pushes his hands off of her.

"I don't want to do it in there though." He mumbles.

"Obviously. I'm not fucking you in a library." The floor squeaks a little when she turns on her heel.

—

Nox checks the lock on the door for what seems like the third time before he finally walks over to the bed. He climbs up, sets his knees on either side of her hips and reaches for her wrists. He's curious too, about her. It's in his nature, to see if she's got any weakness, any particular attributes—in a way, he kind of wants to take her biology apart.

"You're doing a whole lot of staring, y'know." She drags him out of his head and back to reality. His lower set of arms drop to the bottom of her shirt and tug it upwards. His fingers ghost her tummy, kneading and pinching her skin with intrigue. Her stomach is firm; the skin is soft but he can feel her muscle.

"You're fit." Nox notes quietly.

"Is that your attempt at dirty talk?" She mocks, then shifts her wrists in his grasp. In this moment, she has to admit that having extra arms is an advantage.

"No, I'm just making an observation." He defends, tightening his grip on her wrists. The bed creaks a little when he pushes Sucrose further up the bed and slides his lower hands down over her hips. Awkwardly, he slides his hands even further, to her thighs. "Spread."

The assassin's eyes widen the slightest bit and she bites back a snort. "You could atleast kiss me first."

He resists and fails the urge to roll his eyes. "Do you have to make everything complicated?"

"Nah, I just choose to." She doesn't miss the chance to snark at him. Sucrose suddenly raises her hips and wraps her legs around his upper body. Her knees press into the middle of his back and he falls forward in his shock.

Nox scrambles for a little bit, moving his lower arms to support his weight so that he doesn't put all of it on her. His cheeks begin to burn up again with his lips against hers. After a moment, she lets him pull away with a smug smirk. He hates it, how smug and unphased she seems.

At the same time, "That was so hot." he thinks. When he regains his balance, he slaps a hand over his mouth. "Satisfied?"

"Not really." Sucrose shrugs.

"You're impossible to please." Nox deadpans and sighs. Then, he lets go of her wrists and flips her on her stomach. She makes a noise, one of slight confusion before she turns her head back.

She can't see him fully, only a little bit of his figure from the over of her eye. "What, too scared to make eye contact with me?" She taunts.

"You talk too much." Nox retorts and squeezes her thighs. Sucrose squeaks when his nails dig into her skin. A little more carefully than he'd like, he hooks his fingers in her waist band and works her shorts and underwear down her legs. One of his hands come to trace down her exposed back; her ears perk up at the telltale sound of a belt unbuckling.

The echofiend leans over her, he sets his hands on either side of her shoulder to support his weight. His lower set trails down to pull her hips up for convenience.

The position they're in is kind of awkward, his hands are a little shaky with he guides himself. Nox almost panics for two reasons; (1) he doesn't get much action, he's too busy for that and (2) the soft little sound Sucrose makes. He swears he isn't attracted to her, not romantically anyways, but her voice in this exact moment makes blood rush everywhere it shouldn't.

"You're shaking like a leaf.." She momentarily turns her head away from the pillow to mock him. The stretch isn't horrible but it isn't particularly pleasant either; she presses her face into the pillow again when he shifts to fit more in.

"You're awfully quiet for once." He comments breathlessly; his head is spinning. It's a little difficult to stay calm in this situation and even more difficult to avoid having the power trip of the century. It's been so long since he's been so.. close to someone. As much as he prefers to work by himself, he can't deny just how good skin to skin contact feels.

Nox shifts to pull her scarf from her neck and dips down to kiss the skin. It makes her squirm; the sudden intimacy is unexpected and her face flushes when he goes from kissing to nipping and sucking.

Sucrose tilts her head to the side, shivers run down her spine when he bites her neck. ".. Your teeth are sharp." Her comment is quieter than her usual tone.

"You feel good." He doesn't know why he blurts that out, or why his voice cracks when he does it. He only knows that seeing her blush sends his echofiend into a frenzy. As if he wasn't fighting to keep his composure already. Sucrose gets a little louder when he picks up his pace, handling her all sorts of ways. His hand presses into her skin in a way that'll leave her aching for days afterwards.

At some point, he flips her on her back and pulls her in for a kiss. It's frantic, frenzied almost, he kisses like a scared teenager. There's also this underlying desire for control; it's so strong, bordering on desperation.

She lets him pin her down, lets him kiss her lips and all over her neck. She lets him have the control he so desperately needs, watching him nearly fall apart when it's so easily given to him.

Sucrose pants quietly in the ambience of shifting fabric and creaking bed springs. With interest, she watches his every micro movement. His breaths, gasps, shudders—even the beads of sweat that stick to his skin and dangles from his hair.

—

By the time they're done with each other, the room's so hot that the mirrors have fogged up. Nox pulls away from their last kiss, debauched in all sorts of ways.

"Was that what you wanted?" He asks finally, out of breath.

His bed partner stretches and takes a deep inhale in. "It could've been worse." She teases with a smirk. "Let me sleep in your bed?"

"Why?" He narrows his eyes. "You have your own."

"Too far away. And I'm too tired, 'fucked the energy out of me." Her smirk falls to a smug grin. He hates her expression, wishes he could wipe off her face— but somewhere deep down her didn't want to be left alone again.

"Fine.'

"Really?" She looks a little surprised. Nox just climbs off of her and walks to the bathroom.