The Worst NightmareeccentricsimplyMarch 20 2012, 00:29:24 UTC
They say nightmares are to be feared and brave are those who aren’t scared of them, those who don’t suffer with the weight of their demons. Nightmares are always foes, nightmares are always to be avoided, and we’re all too panicked to be willing to deal with our fears.
Dreams are worse though, but few acknowledge that. While in nightmares you have to deal with what scare you inside, dreams are the closest you will get from the things your heart most desire and, as soon as the sleep is over and the dream is gone, they are nothing but memories - and sometimes, they are just a fading shade of the happiest minutes provided by them.
They aren’t real, they aren’t palpable, they aren’t something you can take with you in your pocket and they scare Theon. Every single one of his nightmares never managed to hurt him as much as one single dream was being able of. Just one dream, just one desire, and he were broken.
In the dream he was there. He wasn’t the King in the North, he wasn’t the Lord of Winterfell, he hadn’t gone to battles, he was alive. Theon was there too. Theon was touching him, like he used to touch back on the time when they were simply lord and ward. Back on the time they could and were something else without the fear of being caught, without the fear of losing each other, because such concern didn’t have reasons to exist.
Back on the time when Theon spent his nights on his room, doing all sorts of things, but especially giving pleasure to him. Pleasure that came from Theon’s mouth, Theon’s fingers, hands, teeth, lips and, sometimes, even from the inside muscles of his ass.
Theon preferred nightmares. He always tried to wake up as soon as the dream took control of his mind and always succeed. When he finally managed to go back to sleep, nightmares of water and iron, of salt and rocks, of gods and kings, were the ones to calm him down, to make him forget about the dream.
One day, he couldn’t make it. Either he missed Robb too much, either the gods were punishing him for everything he had done, but the thing was that he couldn’t turn off and Robb was there. Fifteen years old Robb, reckless Robb, perfect Robb, with a fake innocence and a sly smirk that always made Theon’s heart beat faster. Suddenly not only his head ache, but his heart ache, his throat ache, but he was still stuck on the dream.
Theon gave in. He succumbed to the pain; he allowed the weakness to fulfill him as he lay there, motionless, his eyes closed and his mind betraying him.
He woke up with a scream.
(So yay, I gave a complete different meaning from what I had written orginially - that was pure porn - I hope you like this one though xD)
Dreams are worse though, but few acknowledge that. While in nightmares you have to deal with what scare you inside, dreams are the closest you will get from the things your heart most desire and, as soon as the sleep is over and the dream is gone, they are nothing but memories - and sometimes, they are just a fading shade of the happiest minutes provided by them.
They aren’t real, they aren’t palpable, they aren’t something you can take with you in your pocket and they scare Theon. Every single one of his nightmares never managed to hurt him as much as one single dream was being able of. Just one dream, just one desire, and he were broken.
In the dream he was there. He wasn’t the King in the North, he wasn’t the Lord of Winterfell, he hadn’t gone to battles, he was alive. Theon was there too. Theon was touching him, like he used to touch back on the time when they were simply lord and ward. Back on the time they could and were something else without the fear of being caught, without the fear of losing each other, because such concern didn’t have reasons to exist.
Back on the time when Theon spent his nights on his room, doing all sorts of things, but especially giving pleasure to him. Pleasure that came from Theon’s mouth, Theon’s fingers, hands, teeth, lips and, sometimes, even from the inside muscles of his ass.
Theon preferred nightmares. He always tried to wake up as soon as the dream took control of his mind and always succeed. When he finally managed to go back to sleep, nightmares of water and iron, of salt and rocks, of gods and kings, were the ones to calm him down, to make him forget about the dream.
One day, he couldn’t make it. Either he missed Robb too much, either the gods were punishing him for everything he had done, but the thing was that he couldn’t turn off and Robb was there. Fifteen years old Robb, reckless Robb, perfect Robb, with a fake innocence and a sly smirk that always made Theon’s heart beat faster. Suddenly not only his head ache, but his heart ache, his throat ache, but he was still stuck on the dream.
Theon gave in. He succumbed to the pain; he allowed the weakness to fulfill him as he lay there, motionless, his eyes closed and his mind betraying him.
He woke up with a scream.
(So yay, I gave a complete different meaning from what I had written orginially - that was pure porn - I hope you like this one though xD)
Reply
Leave a comment