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Archive 30 / insomniac-pact
Triggers: unhealthy lifestyles, potential smut, depression, self harm
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Sota Watanabe BOT 03/06/2024 20:28
Hot. Kick the blankets down past your ankles. 15 minutes. Cold again. Pull them back up. Toss. The pillow is too warm. Flip. You've lost track of the time again. Sota was used to this feeling. The way the blankets would pull him further into the depths as the night ebbed and flowed. Lifeless groans escaped his lips but no one ever answered back save for the monotone clock. Sleep and him played an endless game of hide and seek. He'd search under his pillow and find nothing there. Flip it for good cause. Perhaps the cold would lure it to him. It hardly did. Clench his eyes closed and slow his breathing like WikiHow told him. WikiHow lied. Adrenaline is a scary thing. 3 AM but he could run a half marathon this very second if he wanted to. He didn't want to. Instead, he allowed his feet to drag him back and forth, crashing upon the wrinkled clothing he had earlier sprawled along the floor. "Fucking hell..." He mutters in frustration as he tears off the shirt that clings to his skin. Suffocating. He glares at it in anger, balling it up in his fist and throwing it to find it's new home on his bedframe. He could feel it snarling back at her, it's periwinkle blue fabric practically sticking it's tongue out at him. Sneering, he lifts her finger up towards it, allowing it one last glimpse before he turns and shoves his way out of the room. "And fuck you too." He mutters as if it can hear him, his fingers finding their way through his hair once more. "Fuck." Once more. It's not the only word in his vocabulary but at the moment it was the only thing coming to mind. Sometimes during these nights he felt his mind running rampant. As if it were lost in some sort of maze, tangled strings of thought having lost their way through the labyrinth that was his mind. He was fairly sure it had lost sense of the turn left rule and long past tangled within it's own depths. His fingers would comb through his hair restlessly as if they would untangle the thought
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s from outside of his skull. They couldn't. Kneading anxiously at his own skin didn't help either. Sleep continued to evade. With a deep breath he pushes off of his foot and finds his way to the bathroom, gasping out in pain as the doorframe nips at his toes and leaves them stinging. "Fuck--!" Once more. It's a sort of insanity, isn't it? The mirror stares back at him in disgust. His gaze remains locked with it as her shaking hands reach for her foot. "Shut it..." He whimpers in pain, gasping as he tears his sock off to reveal a bloody toenail. Tears begin to well in his eyes. "Fuck this....Fuck it..." He mutters as she lowers her body towards the floor, shaky heavy breaths pushing through his lips. He was tired. Judgement oozes from the cracks on the mirrors that he created four endless nights ago in a fit of frustration. He apologized but he was sure the mirror hadn't forgiven him. Neither had his fist. Scabs still danced along his knuckles in fits of fury. He was sure this was insanity. There wasn't any other word for it. He was sure of that.
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Dragging his knees to his chest, he feels every bone in her body protest. He was sure that they hate him. They beg for rest but he continuously refused them such. A silent apology was all he could offer them. Frustration tangles in his throat as the tears tear their way down his cheeks, hands shaking as he lets out a low pained cry. "What is wrong with me...?" He shivers, letting his forehead meet his knees, shaking convulsions shivering up his spine as he allowed the pained cries to escape him. "I--god damn it-- why--" He cried out, shaking his head as he rubbed at the bags under his eyes. He was sure they were permanent at this point. They had been seared into his skin and sunken deeper than most. He was hollow. He swallowed tiredly and glared up at the man above him and let out a whimper, "What's wrong with me?" He muttered, "W-Why do you watch over me?" His voice quivered as he spoke, shaking anxiously as if he was teetering on the very edge of insanity. "P-please... if you are some sort of God... please help me. I--I can't do this any longer."
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@Armand MJ🩸
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Ahmes BOT 03/08/2024 15:45
Dreams were something mortals took for granted. They said it was a scientific thing. That dreams were a thing created by the brain to process reality while at rest. Little do they know that dreams are worlds far beyond human's comprehension, carefully woven creations to bring joy, comfort and inspiration to their hearts. The one's who were responsible for those worlds slumbered within the Stars: the sandmen. Ancient beings as old as time that kept the balance between dreams and reality protected and save. But what happened if sleep was a gift not to be granted? Humans would suffer, driven mad by their inability to rest. A cruel punishment bestowed upon those individuals who angered several or even just one of the moon's children. Ahmes was one of them. Every night, his shadow loomed within the darkest corners of the room, blue eyes resting upon the human shifting within his bed. A place to find rest. But no. The sandman just watched, waiting, seeing him suffer in agony. The being was not alone, surrounded by his creations of darkness looming under his coat of darkness. A dark void filled with nightmares to awake the human's deepest fears to haunt them even while they were awake. Sota did not find rest. Ahmes did not allow it. He would pay his price like every other night. With his black gloved hand did he reach below his coat to pull out a small cloud of black shimmery sand. Shifting within his palm as if it was already a sentient being, Ahmes studied it for a moment, thinking before setting his flat hand to his lips and setting it free into the air with a gentle blow of his lips. The sand molded and twisted in the air,
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forming a dark twisting shadow to look down from the ceiling at the human with long thin arms that slowly began to reach out, many dark spots across his head black voids, so much deeper than the shadow itself. While the creature of nightmare loomed over the bed the mortal seemed to loose himself to his insanity more than usual. Ahmes kept watching him in silence, watching him how this mortal pleaded to the shadow above as if he was pleading to God but with no avail. The sandman kept himself hidden, invisible to the human eye. The nightmare was created for Sota to be seen but something about his pleading felt off. No mortal was ever able to see him. It was no concern of his. Moving within the shadow still, his short white hair floated after him, a dark half mask covering the side of his face. He moved swiftly to a closer corner of the room, eyes focused on the mortal, body trembling in fear of loosing himself to insanity. There was no reason why he should keep his distance if he could not be seen afterall... @꒰ shae ꒱ ༉‧₊˚.
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Sota Watanabe BOT 03/10/2024 02:50
Bump. Da Bump. The pounding of his heart was all he could hear. Swallowing, Sota wiped away the dried tears that remained on his cheeks. New ones threatened to fall, but he hoped they wouldn't, his breaths ragged as he looked up at the creature. He wasn't sure what it was, not really. It looked human. But at the same time, it looked entirely inhuman. Many of the creatures that lurked in the corner of his sight looked like this. Monsterous creatures that followed him around. He wondered if they would feast on him at night, whether they would follow him to the bathroom and whether they would bring pain on those he interacted with. That was why he no longer went out. Mina had told him that his exhaustion was exhausting for her and subsequentially cut him out of her life. Jun said that they were too busy to hang out, but Sota was well aware that it was an excuse. "P-please..." He muttered tiredly, his voice ragged and strained. It shook with each breath and wobbled on every word. He was hanging by a thread and he wasn't sure if the creature that loomed in front of him wanted to cut it or to secure it. As it urged closer, he feared it was the first. It's dark skin looked as if it were formed entirely of darkness itself. It bathed in shadows, it's eyes entirely all seeing. Within them, Sota saw universes unseen. He knew not how his imagination came up with such things. He had never been very creative, though he had tried to put pen to paper several times to recreate their likeness. Such drawings had earned him a spot within several talented groups of artists, though they scorned the exhaustion that he wore as a cape. They told him that being an artist wasn't worth such struggling, that he should not aim to encapsulate that of a troubled artist. They worried for him. They were not wrong... to worry for him. As the creature floated closer to him, Sota's eyes flicked back and forth around the room. They were bloodshot and colorless, their blue hues looking gra
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y rather than their natural color. He swallowed and looked at him, "I....think I'm going crazy." He muttered, combing his hands through his red hair. The box dye never lasted long, and thus his blackish roots were beginning to show. He had the time to fix them but honestly hadn't enough money to do so. Mother had cut him off. She said that she was disappointed in him. That he should see a doctor. That if he wasn't going to take care of himself, neither was she. He was a grown adult. He knew that. "Please... I--I know you can hear me..." He muttered, his words curdling with frustration. "You can hear me... can't you?" He lifted his gaze, eye contact meeting with the creatures once more. He snarled, his lips tugging upwards in frustration, "Get out of my face if you're not going to respond to me! FUCKING HELL!" He growled, sliding his face away from that of the shadow man's. He pushed away, purposfully avoiding crashing into the creatures before standing up. "They're always watching. Watching. Watching. Watching." He muttered, shaking his head tiredly. "So much for the company that you keep." He groaned once more, pushing the sink handle up. Water bubbled out of the faucet and crashed into his hands. He sighed and leaned his head down, his bones aching as he arched his back over the sink. He shook his head again, as if it were the only thing keeping him sane. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, splashing water up into his face. It used to be refreshing. Doing this woke him up, at least a little bit. Now all it did was make him shiver. He straightened his posture and turned to look at the creature, water droplets falling down his cheeks. "Now... would you please give me some god damned privacy if you aren't going to respond back to me?" @Armand MJ🩸
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Ahmes BOT 03/13/2024 21:44
As the sandman moved closer within the shadows, Ahmes was sure of his victory. By seeing another one of the many mortals before him in their bloodline loose themselves within madness, his own salvation edged closer. A hope for freedom without the agony and suffering of his past fulfilled by rooting out all that had caused him to suffer such torture. As he now stood about a step away from the bed, the being thought it would all be over once again until the human lifted his head once again. Deep down it felt like a lightning struck as the mortals baggy eyes widened in fascination. The sandman had came to a halt, blue eyes staring back at the young man. Impossible. Ahems' mind began to race with questions. It was impossible for humans to spot his own kind. Sand men were not meant to be seen. Yet Ahmes knew that somehow this boy was staring right back at him. That broken plea from Sota that followed after that terrible silence only confirmed the worst. Despite all the evidence so far, Ahmes remained silent, hid mind trying to deny that this could be real while the sand men knew exactly which things were real and which were not. The human's body was shaking in frustration as Sota stormed past him. In silence he watched how the boy stormed past him, hands diving within the cold water to keep him awake and regain his sense of reality. Only when his voice rose once again, Ahems seemed to snap out of it. Different feelings slowly began to boil within deep inside of him. Within his presence the room suddenly began to turn cooler. The nightmare-ish creatures stopped moving within the shadows, freezing in their movements before each of them dissapeared back into thin black sand. "So you can see me..." His voice was shallow, a tone as cold as ice. Something about his aura changed. Instead of being neutral like before,
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a terrifying aura filled the room like a thick heavy fog. "How do you do it?" The anger in the beings voice was obvious. He wanted answers, how it was possible for a mortal human to peak behind the veil of dreams to see the hidden truth. @꒰ shae ꒱ ༉‧₊˚.
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Sota Watanabe BOT 03/14/2024 14:28
There was a sort of insanity that he couldn't wash away. Sleep deprivation that exhausted his brain to the point that sometimes he wondered what was real and what wasn't. The days blurred and the nights dragged on ever so long. His nails dug into his skin and dragged down his drying skin. No amount of moistureizer saved his skin from the dryness of exhaustion. As he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he hardly recognized the emaciated figure that stared back at him. Hollow cheeks and lifeless eyes. His eye bags had eye bags, pale purple marks bruising underneath his eyes. His lips were cracked as if he had never hydrated a day in his life. He looked... dead. A knot tightened in his throat making it hard to breath. Hard to not panic. It was the voice of the figure that brought him back to reality. Was it reality? He was talking to a shadow man, after all. He hadn't expected the shadow man to respond. Of course, he had though. Sota stared in bewilderment as the creature stared back at him. For some reason, Sota had a feeling that this creature wasn't here to look over him as a guardian angel would. If guardian angels were real, Sota was sure he would have been in a much better state than he was now. No. Perhaps this was a guardian demon. Or something of the sort. After all, angels were supposed to be pure and white, right? That was the way that he had always seen them depicted. Not with shadow for skin. Perhaps blue eyes but more of a baby blue, pastel colored to be welcoming. Not the harsh cobalt that was staring back at him. The creature of nightmares had a cool thin voice, shallow and cold as ice. This was no angel. Sota shivered and dragged his tired limbs to wrap around himself. Had it gotten colder? He glanced towards the AC to see that it had turned itself on and now was blowing cold air at him. Had the creature done that? Or perhaps it was just bad timing. Sota let out another shiver as chills climbed his spine. His gaze turned back to the crea
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utre, a dark fog had began to fill the room, further darkening the already dark room. He swallowed and looked up at the creature, stepping back until his heels crashed into the sink cabinet. He winced but dared not yelp out in front of the creature, something telling him that perhaps showing weakness in front of the creature wasn't a good idea. "Do what--?" He asked, his voice shaking with the same vibrato that it had earlier. "Look-- I don't know what you're talking about. I'm not doing anything." What did the creature mean? Of course he could see him. He saw all of the creatures that lurked within his room. They watched him at all hours, pushed pressure down on his shoulders. They reminded him that he would never be alone. They were the suffocating pressure on his chest when he stared up at night, they were the weight that stopped him from leaving the house, the reminder that he could never exist in public again. After all... everyone thought he was crazy. Did the monster too, think he was crazy? He bit his lip anxiously and looked at the monster, his heart pounding. At least it still worked. The pounding within his chest was a reminder that he was still alive. He had worried perhaps he had entered hell when he looked at his own dealthy appearance earlier. He shook his head and looked at the creature once more, his fingers digging into the skin on his arms, pressing perhaps a bit too hard. "I...I'm not doing anything. I swear." @Armand MJ🩸
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