Who: Siren's Port
When: The night of Wednesday, October 19th into the morning of Thursday, October 20th.
Where: In the mind, in the dreams, in the unconscious of the sleepers.
Summary: --
Warnings: These dreams may be considered not safe for work, with violence, gore, death, underlying sexual themes and other mentions of graphic nature. Having them
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The past few nights have been riddled with a terrible barrage of violation with the intensity of images which had stuck with him throughout the shortening daylight hours of sleeplessness. Even as they played across his mind's eye, there had been a certain sense of disconnect upon waking, a recognition that these were all terrible, but not his own, or of an otherwise foreign branch of his imagination, one which could not be confused with reality.
However, the Wombsys was unmistakable, something that left his mind wide awake and hurtling through a stark awareness of his own mortal fragility.
His breathing quiets, regulating to short shallow panting by the time he realizes he is not alone in bed, that Franz is still the warmth at his back, a constant, an anchor to this new life. With that, Daedalus sinks into an enormous wave of gratitude for his presence, turning back over to gaze wearily at his faint glow.
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Daedalus groans, a low and agreeing sound, frustrated with the lack of good rest over the past few nights, nightmare-ridden catnaps which end up with more tension in his over-tired limbs than he needs.
Nodding, although he doesn't really want to show the lines of anxiety still creasing on his brow, he turns himself around in Franz's arms into 'little spoon' position, wriggling himself flushed back to front before tucking up his knees into a curl. It feels safer this way, feeling the warmth of breath at the nape of his neck. "Yes. I think so. Are you?"
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"It was yours, wasn't it?"
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"Everyone dreams, at one point or another." he mumbles into his pillow, which has wound up curled between his arms, only one stray corner tucked beneath his head, cushioning his cheek. One arm slides down to rest over Franz's, interlacing their fingers.
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Franz curls his fingers around Daedalus's.
"I love you," he mumbles. "You won't be alone. Don't be scared."
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"I know I'm safe right here." Daedalus whispers, toes curling against his boyfriend's shins, much cozier here than in some strange collective subconscious.
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