"Heedless" is such a funny word to me because here "head" is spelled "heid" and pronounced as "heed" so I keep reading "heedless" as "decapitated" which as you can imagine is a real problem for a writer.
Ya know you’re a writer when you drop a story idea (or the whole plot) on paper, leave it for a few days, and then come back just to see all the major inconsistencies your brain came up with while high on cactus juice
You woke up in the middle of the night. You blinked your eyes open, thinking about rearranging yourself so you could drift back to sleep. And then you noticed the tuft of white hair that was peeking out above the edge of your mattress.
You reached out sleepily, burying your fingers in it.
The head shifted as Mammon looked over at you. It was dark in your room, but you could still see his gold-blue eyes. They seemed somehow dull, as though he wasn’t fully aware of himself.
“Mammon?” you whispered into the quiet. “Are you okay? What are you doing down there?”
Mammon was leaning against the side of your bed, arms around his knees. He shook his head a little, causing your fingers to ruffle through his hair. “Don’t worry about it, MC. Go back to sleep.”
You sighed. Like you could actually do that with him here like this. You sat up. “Don’t do that to me. Tell me what’s going on.”
Mammon didn’t move and he didn’t say anything, only sat there on your floor.
You pulled yourself out of the bed and sat in front of him. You leaned your cheek against one of his knees and looked up into his face. “Talk to me. Please.”
Mammon lifted his head and you were shocked to see the pain in his eyes. “Sorry, MC. Didn’t mean to wake ya.”
“Mammon…”
Mammon leaned his head back against the mattress. “Just had a nightmare, that’s all. Couldn’t go back to sleep, so I came here.”
You could tell you weren’t going to get any more out of him than that. But it didn’t matter. That was enough.
You stood up again and grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. He froze as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing him into you. For a moment, you could feel him trembling, but then he melted into your embrace. His arms enclosed you, his forehead resting on your shoulder.
You stayed that way for a long time, unwilling to let him go until he stopped shaking in your arms.
Eventually, you felt his body relax, enough that you felt he might be able to sleep again. You extracted yourself from him gently before tugging him into the bed with you.
Mammon was your guardian demon, the one who was always looking out for you, always by your side. But sometimes the guardian needed protection, too. And you would always be there to comfort him, even if he wasn’t sure how to ask for it.
I feel like there's so much fun to be had with Nightmare and Dream being from a time where language had very different meanings, especially with queer stuff.
Like, the word queer used to just mean odd or unusual. Imagine Nightmare and gang visiting an au they're not familiar with and Nightmare points out one of the residents and says "he looks awfully queer" and the gang is like "whoaaa boss you can't say that" and he's so confused.
Girls used to be the word for all children regardless of gender. Just picture Dream off-handedly telling Ink and Blue about how he and Nightmare used to get along so well "back when we were girls" and the other two just wordlessly accept that these two ancient emotion guardians are trans and super casual about it. Bonus if this is also happening in Nightmare's gang and when it all comes out both groups have to explain gender identities to their leader.
Gay meant joyful and carefree. You could go 50 different ways with this.
Killer tries to come out like "boss... I'm gay" and Nightmare is like "??? alright... I'm glad you're happy".
Dream sighs wistfully and says "I just wish we could all be a bit more gay" and Ink can't decide which joke to make he just has to go lie down.
Nightmare rallying his boys before a mission like "my brother believes the entire world should be positive but there must be balance, we cannot all be gay." and they share a worried look like "shit was one of us supposed to be straight??"
Thank you so much @aoi-kanna for letting me commission you for this absolutely lovely art peice for my story!!! I have always loved your leviathantale art so this has brought me great of joy.
Thank you!!!
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Gaurdian's of the Deep
Your grandmother had always told you stories of The Guardians and their servants, great beings of untold power that protected your island. They used to be everything to your people. Now, with every fallen elder and new face coming in, they faded to nothing. But you knew. Your grandmother made sure you'd know. You had to honor those memories and old gods. Give one last prayer before the mainland took everything. It was the least you could do.
After all, if you honor, thank, and give; one day, something might just be given back...