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Bring Me a Dream

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      The night is dark, stars reach higher than any soul could on Earth. The moon hangs above and watches over all of its sleepy creatures below it. Serene silence envelops the world and the house is no exception. The sweet laughter that filled it during the day disappeared into soft snoring and hardly audible fans; they kept the house cool from the hot Californian sun in the morning and afternoon. The sun seemed so energetic, always ready to brighten the day- both metaphorically and literally. But now, now it is the moon's turn and he decides to keep the lights low with only the stars, that freckle the sky so perfectly, aiding him. Other than that, the darkness blankets the sky accompanied by a cloud or two that'd dim the lights even further.

     And even so, Mark’s curtains currently block out the sight to make his room even darker. His golden dog lays at his feet as he sleeps; breathing steady and light as the night pulls him further into the realm of dreaming. It is a little bit past midnight, he had spent his time editing videos until deciding it was enough and he would finish the rest tomorrow. Nonetheless, he had to keep in mind that the very next morning he would have to exercise early- Mark was determined to stick to his routine and would always make sure he had a decent night of sleep so the morning wouldn’t be so bad. In this moment, he’s doing just that- getting a good night sleep.

     Albeit, it wouldn’t last long.


     A few hours later, Mark could hear the wind howling and banging outside his house. A groan escapes his lungs as he sits up in bed, his tired eyes looking around his room. He sees that Chica must have left at some point during the night, he figures that she merely wanted water or something of the sort. Nothing big.

     Is it raining too? What the Hell? The forecast said nothing about rain, Mark would remember if they said anything about it, he would have to adjust his jogging route otherwise. Now that he thinks about it, he couldn’t even remember anything about high winds either. Odd. Then, he hears what sounds like a few knocks on the walls around his room. Including one on the wall along the side of his house, where no one- unless of course they really wanted to and brought a ladder- would be able to knock on. This overwhelming sense of dread overcame him, a sinking feeling in the pit of stomach set in- it’s growing heavier and heavier with each passing moment. Mark isn’t exactly sure what is going on, nor does he understand why he feels so afraid; which possibly only adds onto his fear. The knocking seems to grow louder, harsher even, around him and not only could he feel how hard his heart is beating, but he can hear it too.

     God, it is so loud! He is tempted to just get up and go splash some water in his face or do something, anything to get rid of this feeling. This sinking feeling that nothing good is about to happen- no, the feeling that only pain and torment were in store. He doesn’t like it one bit, yet, he can’t bring his legs to move from his bed. Mark knows it sounds crazy but he feels as though if he were to step on the floor, it would somehow bring him pain. He isn’t sure how; he just knows it will.

     His senses are getting overwhelmed; eyes darting from one part of the room to the next repeatedly- he can’t shake this odd sense of being watched. Mark feels eyes on him as he lies helplessly in his bed- too scared to move a muscle. He’s paralyzed. The only sense spared is scent and taste, and he isn’t all that interested in seeing how they may be involved. He tries to shut his eyes, hoping that if he pretends this isn’t happening, it will all disappear. That everything he is feeling, everything he is experiencing, everything that is going on around him, it will all somehow go away and leave him to fall asleep in peace. That this personal Hell can end and let him rest once more.

     Only when he opens his eyes, he realizes that nothing has changed.

     That simply adds onto the overbearing sense of despair and fright in his heart and mind.

     His chest rises and falls with each breath; one after the another, they gradually become faster. His panicked eyes still searching the room as paranoia fills his brain; there’s someone here. There has  to be! Why else would he feel like he’s being watched?

     The storm continues to pour outside as Mark’s eyes finally spot something, someone, in the darkness. Everything that once filled his senses and clouded his mind disappeared- all of his focus is now with the figure on the left side of his room. Their eyes meet and the stare lingers if only for a few seconds before the figure vanishes into the unknown and Mark suddenly gains a stinging pain over every inch of his body. It feels like a wave, beginning at his feet and rising up to his head to fill his whole body with this unimaginable sensation, one that no one should ever have to endure. Like the lightening bolts that rage on outside, the pain burns and stings, never faltering- if anything, it gets worse and worse with each passing second. It’s horrendous.

     He screams as his body contorts in all sorts of ways to try and cope with the terrible sensation. Curling into himself and then spreading out, spasms of the muscles in reaction to whatever it is that he is feeling. Mark’s heart feels like it could jump out of his chest at any moment, his bones act as though they desperately try to escape his body, all while his throat grows dry and sore from yelling. Eyes shut tightly as his head throws itself into the pillow- back arched- pained groans escape his lungs due to the torturous feelings engulfing his whole being. In one last fight against the sensation, he makes a quick move.


 

     He lurches forward in his bed, sweaty and out of breath. He woke up. Mark’s brown hues wide with panic and confusion, they search the room around him and find no evidence of the figure’s existence. The pain’s disappearance is similar, not a trace nor a last twinge of it in his body, he feels fine. Tired, but fine. Instead, Mark notices a sleeping Chica at the foot of his bed- undisturbed and relaxed as ever.  Brows knit together as a hand runs through the messy black strands, was that another nightmare? While the YouTuber is familiar with the haunted dreams, he hasn’t had one of that sort in, well, he actually can’t remember having a nightmare like that. Maybe in his childhood? He’s not sure. Either way, it was so vivid, he feels like it was all real. But that couldn’t be, could it? No, it was just a really weird, lucid, and fucked up nightmare. That’s all.

     Giving the golden dog a quick pet, Mark gets out of bed and goes to his bathroom counter. The bright lights sting his eyes so he blinks a few times to help adjust to them, he takes in his reflection and chuckles. Yeah, he looks like a mess. A crooked smirk crosses his expression as he turns the water on- making sure the dial is on cold- he cups his hands below the faucet and once satisfied with the amount, proceeds to splash the cool water over his face to help bring him back into reality. Mark does this one more time- just to make sure it’s really working after all. Why splash water on your face if it doesn’t wake you up, right? If it didn’t work, then it was just a waste of time and now you're not only tired, but cold too. So, it’s always better to be thorough with these things.

     Nonetheless, it does work and Mark, out of pure curiosity, looks over his hands in case the pain he experienced in the dream possibly had a real life source. He doesn’t see anything, even after stretching his fingers and what not, there is simply not an answer for it- or at least in real life there isn’t. In one’s dreaming world, who knows how many answers there are.

     He shrugs and tries to rub the remaining sleep out of his eyes as he turns off the lights and heads back to his bed. Sadly, he finds that he’s too awake by now to try and fall back asleep. He looks over to his clock and reads the red numbers: 4:12am. Damn, he really is up early. Groaning, Mark’s eyes shift to the window.

     The sky is still painted a dark blue with the little white and yellow stars, the pale full moon shines brightly. Mark really does love space; being reminded of how beautiful it all is, it sends a soft smile to his lips despite everything else. Even if the random rain continues to come down, it’s a far lighter storm than depicted in his dream and he has an odd but hopeful feeling that soon there will be clearing skies as the sun rise. Albeit, it may take another hour or two- yet, it’s all worth it, isn’t it? To see the beauty of the Earth unravel, as night turns to day, the dim sky changing into a splendid display of oranges, pinks, and blues? The clouds reflecting and reveling in the color change as well, he finds it refreshing. With each new day, a new sun rise and a new sun set, shaking away the existence of yesterday as the Earth rotates in this ginormous universe of ours. It reminds him that there really isn’t any point in focusing on the past or the negatives, rather, living for now and for the happiness one deserves. The idea of looking up instead of down has helped in more than one situation; the latest still fresh in heart and mind.

     Mark hears an adorable little snore behind him, he laughs lightly and turns around to offer Chica an early morning belly rub. She happily welcomes it and even rolls over further, he couldn’t help the laughs escaping him by that point. She’s too cute!

     His eyes go back and forth between the bed and the door, again- trying to decide if he should at least try to go back to sleep or accept the situation and just make some breakfast already. The rain outside tempts him to do the first, even if it may take a while.

     Although, a bang reaches his ears and he looks out towards the window. Was that thunder? Mark doesn’t think so and is only assured of that when the noise echoes out in his house again. His eyes narrow and with a peculiar feeling of paranoia sneaking into his mind; he looks for a quick thing to defend himself with, he settles for a heavy book that was on his nightstand. Mark’s long legs carry him, albeit cautiously, out of his room and down the stairs into the hallway. The floorboards creak ever so slightly beneath him and fuel his paranoia. Logically, yes, he knows it’s probably nothing and it may simply be his mind playing tricks with him in the night. But right now, the lack of sleep has made him a bit more susceptible to his cruel imagination. Mark waits for a moment, the silence making it easy to listen for another bang. And sooner than expected, another one came. Though this time, he realizes it to be a knock, which adds to his confusion.

     Who’s at his house at 4am in the morning?

     With furrowed brows, Mark makes his way over to the front door. He debates with himself on whether or not he should really answer it or leave it alone. For all he knows, it could be a murderer just waiting for some dummy stupid enough to open their door to a stranger at 4am. The thought hits him once he’s about a foot away from the door, his lips purse and he begins to ponder the outcomes. It took him a moment to decide and during that moment he heard two more knocks, his decision is to simply open the door a crack to see exactly who it is that’s out there. However, it then dawns on him that he does in fact have a peephole and that this situation is, quite frankly, the exact reason why peepholes are made.

     The darkness still surrounds the person outside, and as if will help, he squints in an attempt to make out their features better. From what he can tell, he thinks that they’re a girl. They’re about to raise their hand to knock on the door once more, even just by watching their actions, he can tell they’re hesitant. That’s good news, he thinks, most spontaneous murderers aren’t hesitant right? Mark chews on his bottom lip, his gaze leaves them and goes to the book in his hand, with a heavy sigh he decides to open the door.

     His free hand grabs the door knob and twist it slowly, he opens the door a few inches. It’s just enough to peek his head out, offer a smile, and try to get a good look at whoever is standing, soaked, on his front porch. “Can I help you, miss?” Mark also really hopes that his assumptions in the person being of the female gender is true, he doesn’t want to seem like an ass this early in the day already.

     Although, when he hears their response, the raven haired sweetheart finds himself frozen.  

     “Mark?"

Chapter Text

     His heart is pounding within his chest, his cool brown eyes begin to light up the world with his excitement. If there is any darkness left, it’s obliterated the moment that most delightful grin spreads across his lips. All the curious questions that one may ask momentarily leave his mind and Mark instantly hugs you close to his chest, lifting you off the floor a bit- which results in a cheerful giggle escaping you. He sets you back down, his hands still resting on your upper arms as he takes in this moment; one of pure joy and happiness, loving the ability to be in your delightful company once more. No more texts or calls- or rather voicemails. For some odd reason, he found that you always managed to call him when he would be sleeping. Though, it would make for a wonderful morning surprise to wake up to; something to start the day off on a lighthearted note. No matter how scarce the texts or calls had been, he always appreciated them. But this moment, this moment will start his day off better than any voicemail could! You are back!

       His heart dances gleefully in his chest as he looks you over; you’re not as soaked as he believed you to be, instead your graceful, but damp, locks frame your face with eyes that hold such admiration one can only hope to receive, and quite possibly his favorite part: the most familiar smile that plays on your lips. Mark couldn’t wait to hear more of that melodic voice of yours, it is the one melody that he will never get sick of hearing. Even through the slightly staticy voice mails you left him, he would be reminded of that lovely song of yours. That may be why he would never erase them; whenever he needed comfort or missing you had gotten real bad, he would play them. He would play them and in the silence of his room, only your sweet song would echo out into his ears- the ones where you laughed or giggled were possibly his favorite. It always sounded so sincere and light; Mark’s going to enjoy being able to hear your cheerful voice again.

      That is, if you are staying.      

     The chirping of crickets breaks him away from his thoughts and brings him back to you. His cool brown orbs swimming in your own, he takes one more deep breath and chuckles before finally addressing you, “You’re back!”

     “I’m back!”

      “You- I, I can’t believe it! You! You’re here!” Mark rejoices, the jubilation evident in his voice. The previous desire for sleep lifts off his shoulders and is instead replaced with curiosity of why and a jovial spirit that’s purely thankful of you being back- as if that weren’t obvious enough by the grin his lips wear.   

     “I’m here!” You giggle lightly, you adjust the bag on your shoulder and rock on the heels of your shoes, “Should I close the door, Mark? Or do you enjoy the little cricket choir?” Your first lovely quip is sent his way and he blinks before joining you in playful laughter and closing the door behind you as you walked further into the familiar place you once called home- even if it was only for a few weeks. He led you into the living room and you take a seat on the cozy coach as he lingers above you.

       “You want anything to drink? Eat?” He asked, already planning on brewing a pot for himself. Mark’s excitement may work on keeping him up a bit longer, but it wouldn’t last forever; that’s where the idea of coffee comes in.

     A quick nod gives him his answer and the raven haired sweetheart went into the kitchen to make the pair of you coffees.

     In the meantime, you decide to play a mental game of spot-the-difference with the surrounding area. There wasn’t much to be found, only a few new games and an abandoned glass or doggy toy scattered about. The biggest difference you noticed was the difference in your Dreamer himself. Those fierce, burning red locks that started a fire in your heart faded out and left behind the natural onyx hair in its ashes that only adds to his cool and calm demeanor. You quite liked it.

     “So,” You hear him begin, “What brings you back to ol’ Markimoo’s place?” He returns with mugs in hand, one a green cube-esque mug and the other, while normal in shape, is painted black with a pink mustache. You smile fondly at it, a quick memory of that most odd persona pops up, is it Wilfred or Wilford? The question brews in your mind for a moment- it’s definitely Wilford. Speaking off, his pink mustache mug is held out for you to take it. You do. Your cold hands instantly relishing in the heat from the hot beverage in your hands, you didn’t even realize you were so cold.

     Mark moves to sit down beside you and looks on at you curiously; he’s awaiting your answer. “Nothing much, I figured I’d just pop in for a visit,” Despite your smile doing its best to hide the lies in your response, it failed. Mark was always rather good at finding out when your were lying and today is no exception- even with his lack of sleep.

     “Just a visit?” But then again, should he really question whatever brought you here? Whatever it is, it brought you back to him and he’ll just have to put an open ended thank you out into the void to thank whatever fate made this ebullient reunion possible.

     You laugh lightly at his expression; whether he knows it or not, it’s a blend of concern and a child-like hope. Stars couldn’t shine brighter than his eyes. “Yes, just a visit, Mark. Although, it may be a visit that might end up being quite long- which I think will be rather nice.” You took a sip from the caffeinated beverage, the hot drink warming your insides as it slides down. “And if you don’t mind… I was hoping to stay with you? For the first few days, of course, just until I can find a hotel or-”

     “No,” He interjects, “you don't have to go through all that trouble, really. For however long you want, you can stay. The room’s been open since you left and like you said, I think it will be rather nice, too.” His smile emphasizes the excitement and eagerness that floated about in his voice, and while his eyes may be a tad red from lack of sleep, they still manage to radiate this beautiful, joyful light that never seemed to leave those sweet brown orbs of his.

     It’s hard for your heart not to melt as you begin to grow comfortable in his presence again, oh God how you've missed the feeling of him being around. Not even making his dreams can grant you such happiness that this reunion does.

     “You really are too kind, Markimoo,” You breathe out, a hand leaving your mug to playfully give his nose a little ‘boop’. You both let out a tired laugh, albeit yours is more from travelling as his is from- well, you weren’t really sure. But soon you would be, soon, you would know.

     The green mug is set on the coffee table in front of the couch as he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull in closer. There is a short-lived silence, it is… nice. Nothing needed to be said anymore, the two of you are simply content with this quiet air, the only thing distracting you every now and again is the soft dripping and dropping of the rain from outside. The previous crickets are now silent, aside from one that was rather persistent despite the watery terrain. Like many other silent moments you’ve had with this anything but silent boy, it is peaceful and you take solace in times like these. Mark simply allows his mind to wander off, his calm demeanor soothing your soul; along with the worry and fear that’s in it’s hold currently.

     Mark’s simple rhythmic heart beat begins to tempt that inner need for a recharge- especially since it’s been more than fifteen hours since you’ve done so. Your eyes shut and listen to his organic beat, slowly but surely, you begin to fall under.

     Although, his hearty laugh brings you back from the brink. Your head raises up to meet his gaze and he can’t help but shake his head, “You know, coffee is supposed to have the opposite effect. But here you are, dozing off on me like you used to.”

     Your hues roll playfully as you give him a teasing ‘punch’ to the chest, “Hush, things have been hectic in my little world- I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in forever.” Your lips shift into a sleepy pout, eyelids heavy as you look up at him.

    He gives you a gentle squeeze before standing up, a sun kissed hand reaches out to you, “Then may I escort you to your room, m’lady?”

     You accept his hand, standing up alongside him, you set your coffee down on the end table as you hold your bag in the opposite one. The half Korean man led you up the stairs and back to the room you were so familiar with.

     As if instinctively, your lips form an excited smile; the feeling of being back in his world finally sinking in. Mark stands in front of the door but turns his head back to you with a playful eyebrow wiggle before continuing to slowly turn the knob and open the door. A burst of giddiness seems to explode in your mind, yet it’s your heart you can feel leaping with glee.  Feet carry you into the room and it hardly feels as if you ever left it, the bed sporting gray covers that beckon you to wrap yourself up in their warmth and lay your head against the white pillows that seem to lull you into your recharging period, and while that’s not a difficult task to begin with, the bed reminded you so much of the fluffy clouds back home it seemed to do it so easily and flawlessly. It was as if nothing had ever changed. The happiness bursts from you in a bout of laughter as you leap onto the bed, a content sigh falling from your lips as you land.

     Tempted by your adorable action, Mark’s chuckle passes his lips as he shakes his head. He moves to sit beside you, the bed shifting with the additional weight. Your head turns to the side to meet his chocolate eyes, “I see you’re still as dorky as when you left.”

     “And I see you’re still as dorky as when I   left,” You tease, sitting up and setting your bag on the floor then proceeding to sit by the giant dork himself. “But, that’s hardly a bad thing, now is it?”

     The cocky grin that spreads across his lips told you that whatever is going to follow, will most likely make you want to recharge already. You are correct on that assumption. “Well, for me , not at all. I mean, does anything look bad on me? I’m just that phenomenal and handsome, you know? It’s hard for something to be a bad thing on me.” His fingers dramatically place themselves in the center of his chest as his eyebrows raise. You were most definitely correct. “You, on the other hand , I guess it works. Your adorkable levels are just lower than mine is all,” Mark teases, just awaiting to hear your response as he his smug expression only adds to the idiocy of his words.

     However, Mark didn’t hear your response.

     No, he saw it, and then proceeded to feel it. Quite a few times at that.

     You playfully smack him with one of the delightful pillows, they may be plush and comfy, yet you choose it as your weapon deeming it appropriate. He acts hurts, an act which he fails miserably at as laughter trails from his lips while he yells out in ‘pain’. Deciding he’s had enough after about eight whacks, you stop and try to suppress the smile- but you too, also fail miserably in your act. “Satisfied?” He asks, with an expectant brow raised.

     You nod, “Yes!”

     His hand reaches out and ruffles your hair, “Like I said, you’re still as dorky as ever.” And while in another context that may not be the sweetest thing, but the way his voice held such a loving and almost nostalgic tone to it- the short statement made your eyes shine with a jovial light. Mark stands up and shares your gaze for only a bit longer as he walks to the door, “Get some good sleep, alright?” His voice free of any playful mockery or overly cocky air to it, rather it’s an endearing genuine and warm sound.

     “I’ll try.” You offer a crooked smile, which he returns, and watch as he leaves,  closing the door behind him. Air leaves your lungs before you take another deep breath and fall back. Allowing yourself to sink into sheets, allowing yourself to forget all your troubles and tribulations, allowing yourself to relax and just breathe- your mind, body, and soul soon slip into the darkness of your recharging period. A time of true peace; one without thinking nor acting, just existing.

 


 

       Mark runs through the door, sweaty, and panting, he refreshes himself with a long awaited drink of ice cold water. It sends pleasurable chills down his spine and effectively cools him off from not only the run, but the searing sun in Los Angeles. As he predicted, the rain clouds disappeared an hour or so later and the bitter sun returned. The fast padding of paws against the hardwood floor give him a quick warning as his favorite dog rushes to greet him. He happily kneels down and gives Chica some love, petting her sunny fur as he cooed at the pup with loving, yet silly, words.

      Once the rumble from his stomach reminds him of his hunger, he gets back up and walks into the kitchen, his golden shadow following him happily. Mark opens the fridge and his eyes scan to view his options, with a shrug, he picks an orange for now. Later, he would have a proper lunch. As he peels the spherical fruit, it’s pungent scent filling his nostrils, his mind begins to wander to you.

     You weren’t... in trouble, were you? Brows furrow as he continues thinking to himself, he just finds it strange. You showing up so early in the morning with, what he assumes is your belongings packed away in a gym bag, along with a tiny comment about how things had been hectic in your life lately. If you are in trouble, or if anything is wrong, he just prays that you actually talk to him instead of keeping it to yourself and hiding it all behind a curtain. You coming back, being in his life again, it will either build him up or break him down. Hell, the last time you left made him a wreck for days, even after his whole positive thinking motivation it was still a struggle. Eventually it got easier and with your night-time voice mails, they eased the process and within a month and a half, he was back to his normal upbeat self. So, reasonably, he’s a bit nervous for what the future has in store.

     He chews on his bottom lip as thoughts brew in his mind, just what will happen this time around? And a question that’s already prevalent in his mind, one from before you left last time, arises again and stirs up his emotions. Will he be able to convince you to stay with him? Would that be an option this time around or will you simply return to your nomadic life after however long this stay of yours will be? Mark’s chest tightens at the possibility of rejection again, the empty feeling that’s becoming in his heart reminds him of the consequences- maybe instead of trying to get closer, should he distance himself? Not only would it spare him some pain, but hopefully you wouldn’t hurt as much either. You did say, after all, this is only a visit.

    A puff of air escapes him as his eyes stare at the orange; his mind bustling in this treacherous cycle of worries, wondering what’s the future between the two of you and if you’re in trouble or not. God, he’s so happy you're here, but … what if something goes astray? What if he can’t help you? If you are even in trouble that is. What if he pushes you away by trying to make you stay? There’s so many things that could happen and with each one playing out in his head- Mark begins to freak out a little.

     Yet thanks to his new caring roommate,  a gentle, comforting hand lands on his shoulder, “You good, Mark?”

    “Huh?” He’s brought back to reality and offers the ghost of a smile, “Ah yeah, no worries, Tyler. How’d you sleep?”

    The much taller brunette shrugs as he strides over to the pantry, reaching for cereal. The sugary scent fills the air with it’s most delightful aroma, “Pretty well, you?”

     Mark tilts his head from side to side, “Could’ve been better- but that does remind me. I gotta tell you something.” Tyler simply stays quiet but gives him a look to tell him to continue. “Now, I know I probably should’ve asked you first, but my friend kinda needed a place to stay. Is it cool if she stays for a while?”

     The brief chill of the fridge’s air causes goosebumps to rise on the brunette's skin, though once he grabs the diary beverage, the door momentarily closes putting a stop to the cold. He pours some cereal into a bowl, adding the white waves after. “Sure? But who is she? Do I know her?” Tyler’s voice is a bit uncertain though he trusts Mark- if she’s a friend of Mark’s, then she’s a friend of his.

      He chuckles as his hand sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, “Remember that Nomad girl I told you about?” And by any chance, Mark also mentions your name to help prime Tyler’s memory of you. His bushy brows begin to furrow and raise as his lips now don the hint of a smirk.

      “No way, the Nomad girl? The one you were completely in-”

     “Shushy! Just in case she somehow hears that I….” The raven haired boy’s cheeks darken and he huffs, “ Anyway! Yes... It’s her. She’s staying here.” Tyler, after a moment, only shakes his head to laugh at the situation happening before him.

     “Wow… So, when can I meet her casanova?”

      Mark chuckles lightly and his shoulders shrug absentmindedly, “Whenever she wakes up.”

     “About an hour from now? Noon?”

    “Maybe noon? She said she hasn't gotten good sleep in a while, so it may be a few until she does.” Mark admits, finally taking a bite of the citrus fruit- the strong, delicious taste makes him hum in delight as he goes for more.

     The brunette nods, adjusting his glasses and beginning to start on his own breakfast. Though not quite before proposing a simple and productive answer as to what to do until their introduction, “Should we just work on videos till then?”

     “Sounds good to me.”

     The two lads headed up stairs once breakfast was finished and went into the studio, where Mark began to record a video as Tyler helped by editing, the two easily slide back into their normal routine. They also thought about whether or not to introduce to Ethan, after all, he does come around quite a bit. Mark figured it might be best to ask you first if that would be alright- which he had no doubt it would be. Though as the day continues, Mark couldn’t help but wonder if you would cook one of your amazing-as-always meals for dinner…

     Goodness, he would just love that! Especially if you made a delectable dessert to follow! To say the least, he's also really missed your cooking.

Chapter Text

     Mark’s door shuts behind you as you stealthily enter his room. Smiling to yourself, you thank the heavens for Mark’s cleanliness habits- otherwise, this would be a much more bothersome endeavor. Mark is currently in his recording room- a new addition- and when you had woken up, you noticed that his room was empty and that this would be as good of a time as any to begin your mission. Which lead to where you are now, searching through the now raven haired man’s room for certain tell-tale signs.

     There are a few, they’re tiny but they will give you a definite answer on whether or not your suspicions are correct. Which unfortunately, you think they are. Nonetheless, you want to be certain and searching for their presence seems to be the only way you can be. So, with your senses on high, you try to leave as little of a mark as possible- the less Mark knows about all of this, the safer he’ll be. After all, it’s not as if you are up against some measly pixie whose mischievous ways interfere with one’s dreaming, no, it appears to be something far darker that’s plaguing Mark’s mind; something that, while it may be well-known, is much harder to get rid of than a mere fae.

    As you spend more and more time in his room, you become aware of this ever present of something… looming. It sends a shiver down your spine. Why must these things be so creepy? Even in such a light and lovely space, your Dreamer’s space, it almost feels as if it has become void of your work. While your work may be more psychological or spiritual, like anything in this world it leaves a trail. But, it’s cheery- not this borderline chilling aura you’ve been receiving. And out of the corner of your eye, you spot it. ‘It’ being the sliver of evidence you need to reassure you of your ideas of what’s haunting his mind- walking ever so slowly you reach the windowsill and sigh. One of those vile beasts really are here then? Marvelous. This is just… delightful .  

     Curious and hesitant fingers pinch and raise the lonely shard of glass up to your face for inspection, it has an orange tint to it. The longer you look at this damning evidence, you feel your blood boil and you glance around the room with furrowed brows almost expecting to see them. They want to mess with your Dreamer? Then they’ve got another thing coming.

     Eyes narrow as you clench your fist around the object, you turn and begin a steadfast walk back to your room- though, you wind up bumping into the owner of the room. All anger diminishes and instead a nervous laugh fills the air, “Heh… Hey Mark.” Instead of evidence, you now search for a reasonable excuse for being in his room.

    “Hey? What are you doing in my room..?” He asks, his expression shifting to one of confusion.

    Searching…

    Not quite there yet…

    ...Found it!

     “I was searching for you, ya doof,” You say, shrugging simply. Good job! He seems to believe this and nods, his smile returning.

    “We were working, though we’re just taking a break for a few,” Mark explains as he steps into his room and pulling his phone from the charger, “You sleep well?”

    “I did, thank you!” Though, something struck you as odd, didn’t Matt and Ryan move out? You wrack your brain and can’t quite come up with an explanation, “And I’m sorry, but who exactly is ‘we’?”

    His face seems to light up with excitement, “Oh right! So, my friend Tyler moved in with me and we’ve been working together ever since- he’s the best, you’ll love him! I’ve known him forever, he helps me with editing my videos and it’s just nice to have someone in the house again, you know?”

     Subsequently, a soft smile spreads across your lips, Tyler is indeed someone you remember. A close friend of Mark’s since his Cincinnati days who has apparently moved in with him now, you feel as though you should know that but then again with them interfering lately, maybe it’s slipped through the cracks. That seems to only fuel your determination for eliminating this pest from Mark’s mind. Although, you push that thought to the back to stay in the joyful mood Mark knows you for, “I can imagine, Markimoo, so when can I meet the fellow then?”

     “I was hoping over dinner?” He proposes with a black brow quirked up.

     “Sure! What are we having-” You stop yourself, noticing his eyes begin to plead with yours as he wears a guilty smile. An amused chuckle leaves your lungs, “You’re hoping that I’ll cook, aren’t you?”

     “You don’t have to! I thought it might be nice way to start out your stay here, y’know?”

     “Is it that, or is it that you really just wanted to eat my food again?”

     Mark tries not to smile but inevitably fails to and causes you to laugh, “It’s so good!” You shake your head with your own smile, “Give me five minutes and I’ll start cooking, sound good?”

     “Sounds great!”

 


 

     It’s no doubt that you have more magic than your previous visit. In fact, the only ability you lack may be floating amongst the celestial clouds and the only reason you can really think of why that may have been left out is quite a simple one: gravity. The one thing science manages to overcome in this situation- you’ve no idea why but in some way you do find it a tad funny. All the same, because of your heightened powers, you realize you can make practically anything taste decadent. Magic is lovely, isn’t it? You make a simple yet classic dinner for the three of you to enjoy, chicken alfredo, and set up the bowls as the boys work. Lips pursing in concentration as you cook, you place a pinch of, not only dream powder, but a quick protection powder that should help temporarily defend against the creatures of the night in addition to your own protection over him. Tonight, you decide, you’ll have to work on the slow elimination process.

     Until then, however; you find a song makes it way into your mind and you can’t help but hum along. The beat slow and soothing; worries leave your mind and you enjoy this peace for how long it may be. Subconsciously, your body begins to move to the mental melody; hips sway ever so slightly, head bobbing in accordance, and every other step seems to match a beat. It’s a subtle dance; dancing is something you’ve always seemed to admire. Dreamers do it quite well, Dream Makers- more or less. You do it nicely, not the best, but most certainly not the worse. Breena, a stunning Dream Maker whose silver hair compliments her dark complexion very nicely, is the most amazing singer yet- and while she’s a dear friend of yours, you would say she has what Dreamers call ‘two-left feet’.  Sings like a bird but dances like a baby deer- it’s quite adorable in your opinion.

     The scent of the dish begins to fill the air and intoxicate your taste buds, you finish it up and equally divide the dish between Mark, Tyler, and yourself. You grab some cups and set them in front of the bowls- that would be something they’d have to do themselves- before getting a drink for yourself. Once complete, you stand back and nod to yourself, you’re rather with how your introductory dinner turned out. After one last look, you turn on your heels and head to stairs, “Dinner’s ready!”   

     You walk back to your seat at the table and start to hear footsteps thundering through the hall and down the stairs before seeing the all familiar black poof of hair make his way into the kitchen donning a broad grin. His shoulders slump as the scent greets him, “This is exactly what I missed!” Mark chimes and then adds, “Tyler! Get your ass down here already!”

     Not being able to help it, a laugh slips through your lips and you shake your head. He is definitely something; a peculiar, lovable something at that. Mark soon slides into the chair beside you and gets his utensils ready to dig into the scrumptious meal in front him. Another set of footsteps make their way down into the room and you begin to feel butterflies as he enters, hoping the meeting goes nicely and that you don’t manage to make a fool of yourself. The corner of your lips turn up into a, albeit nervous, smile, “I’m guessing you’re Tyler?”

     “Yeah,” The brunette nods, taking a seat across from you, “And you’re (Y/n)?”

     “Indeed!” Eyes study him for a moment, his curly brown locks are primarily hidden beneath a gray beanie apart from a few of his curls in the front. He’s much taller than Mark though looks to be equally, or a bit more muscular than your Dreamer, he also has thin rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His brown eyes appear friendly yet chill, and in  addition to that lopsided smile of his lead you to believe he’s easy going. It also helps that as soon as you caught a glance of him, snapshots of memories play in your mind and although they may not be in depth, they do reassure you of what you believe him to be.  

     “It’s nice to finally meet you,” His aura slowly turning into a smug one as the hint of a teasing smirk plays on his lips, “especially since Mark wouldn’t shut up about you for the longest time.” You glance towards a now wide-eyed and high browed Mark whose expression causes you to attempt at keeping the laugh that’s threatening to bubble out down.

     “The Hell, man?!”

     Tyler can’t quite help himself from laughing, his laughter rumbling out as he tries to keep it under control. After that, however; you fail at keeping yours under wraps.

     You begin to like Tyler already.

 


 

    The dinner is full of laughter, primarily from Tyler and Mark going back and forth with embarrassing childhood stories of each other. Tyler being almost a teasing mother figure, decided you should know a bit more about Mark- especially since he knows that you two have become rather close. And according to Dreamers, mothers, or in this case mother-esque friends, think the best way to do this is to tell stories: particularly embarrassing ones. Yet, once Tyler finished his about Mark, your lovely Dreamer wanted to ‘retaliate’ by sharing one of Tyler’s tales… Minutes later, the meal has been finished for some time but the boys continue this battle of embarrassment.

     Either way, your belly begins to hurt due to how hard you're laughing at these stories. Whether it be embarrassing family moments, rejections, or just an abundance of dorkiness (primarily on Mark's end), you find them hilarious! In this moment, they distract you from the negative and secretive reason of why you came back. Rather, it allows you to relish in the positivity of it all. Your heart is like a falling petal of a flower instead of a sinking anchor; peaceful and light.

     Yet, you a question drags you back into reality, “What about you, chickadee?” His deep voice gets your attention and you look his way, in answering his inquiry, you merely shrug.

     “I obviously didn't have as interesting of a life as you two,” Albeit, to some your answer may be the complete opposite of the truth. But, what are you to say? There's not too many opportunities to embarrass oneself when your life is basically only two things, creating and recharging. Between those times, while there is of course socializing, it's mainly showing each other's abilities and messing around.

     “Everyone's life is interesting,” Tyler says plainly, “and we all have that one time we wish we could take back- or just hate thinking about,” he lightly chuckles. “So, what's yours?”

      They both look at you with curious eyes; meanwhile, you rewind the tape in your mind and search for an example of this. And as soon as you feel that sinking stomach feeling and a heat rise on your cheeks, you know you just found what they're talking about. “Well, I suppose there is one occasion…”

       You shook your head with a crooked smile, “My friends and I were hanging out one day, just… painting, per se. It was really nice!” A gentle laugh of yours escapes before you continue, “At least, it was up until I decided to start working on this big creation, adding probably a bit more… paint, than necessary. They said it wasn’t a good idea, in the back of my mind I think I knew that, but I didn’t really and soon enough, the canvas toppled from how heavily I layered the paint and kind of fell on me… I was every color of the rainbow that day.” In all reality, it was a creation contest and you attempted to make this ginormous rainbow dog- it was cute up until he decided to shake and for some reason; the rainbow slid off his fur and drenched you in the colorful paint like material. Your cheeks were feverishly red when that happened, both because of your blush and the excess red from the rainbow. Quite lovely, no?

     Mark raises a brow, a playful smirk under his mustache, “That the worse you got? No bad crushes or weird camp stories?”

     You blink and bite your lip, “Does it count if we were both very young? Like, children?”

    “I don’t see why not.”

     Nodding you head, a bout of tiny laughs pour from your lips as a memory comes to mind, “Then, I do think I have worse.”

    “Do tell,” Tyler’s voice rings out, brows furrowed in curiosity.

    “When I was young, very young, there was a boy named Ezra,” A fond but sheepish smile spreads onto your expression, “I liked him, and in the little time we had to do whatever, we would always play! While we were playing, I decided to tell him I liked him- his response?” Chuckling, you look down and rub the back of your neck, “His response was to scream… and then proceed to panic before tossing a stuffed animal at me as a ‘distraction’ as he ran away. I believe that would be worse than the other story,” You finish unable to hold back your own laughter as you hear them begin to crack.

     “Yeah, I would say that’s worse too,” The brunette agrees all while progressively laughing more and more, you think that while the story is far more simple, the pure imagery of a toddler doing such things to avoid ‘love’ may be what the funniest part about it is.

      “Did you still hang out with him after?” Mark asks as he drowns in the hilarity.

     “Oh goodness, no! He practically screamed every time he saw me after that so I eventually started to avoid him as well.” If you hadn’t, your hearing would most likely be shot by now. For such a tiny new soul, he had some pipes on him. Who knew there’s more drama at the child level of Dream Makers than the adults?

 


 

     As the night goes on, you all share in stories of your lives, each one being interesting and funny in their own way. And despite some of your being complicated due to the whole Dream Maker part, you simplify or edit them to make them fit into what’s normal for the life of a Dreamer. Though, within a few hours, you can tell Mark and Tyler are starting to craze the one thing all Dreamers need: sleep. Which, for you, means that you’ll need to begin the spell once you're sure it is safe to do so.

     “What time is it?”

     Tyler slides his phone from his pocket, “It is… just about 9:30.”

     Mark groans his brows knit together in confusion and frustration, “How is it so late?”

     “Because we’ve spent a bit of time reminiscing over the past,” You answer along with a giggle following after.

     “I know… I should head up then. Tyler, you have any work to finish? I can stay up a little longer if you want help,” Mark offers, though due to his morning workout routine, he probably should be in bed by ten at the most.

    His beanie covered head shakes as he takes a stand, “No, you’re fine, Mark. I need to wrap it up but other than that, I’m probably going to sleep too,” He shrugs and then looks towards you, “You heading up too?”

    You ponder for a moment, “Maybe,” Lips purse as your gaze shifts towards the window in the dining room- the night tempting you. “I may sit outside for ten minutes or so.”

     Tyler nods and reaches over to give your shoulder a pat, bringing your attention back to him, “Sounds like a plan,” his familiar crooked smile returning, “It was nice to meet you.”

      A joyful ping resonates in your hearts causing you to return with a sincerely cheerful smile that Mark knows you to have, “A pleasure to meet you as well, Tyler.”

     Your shared gaze lasts for a few more seconds before breaking, he heads up the stairs the echo of a yell filling the air as he leaves, “G’night!"

     “Night!” You chime as your eyes shift to Mark, who appears to have calmed down from the laughing fits earlier, “You’re going up too, right?”

     “Yup,” He stands and walks over to you, casually slinging an arm around you shoulder, “By the way, Tyler said him and our pal Ethan, who you’ll meet eventually, are going to hang out for the majority of tomorrow. I was wondering, would you want to have a mini adventure with your ol’ friend Mark while they’re gone?”

      “If you’ve got no work to do, I’d love to,” You watch as his dark brown orbs light up, sending a joyous feeling throughout your being.

      “Awesome! Then, I shall see you tomorrow, m’lady,” Mark bows and shoots you a cheeky wink, causing you to shake your head at his silliness as he starts his walk up the stairs, “Good night!”

     “Sweet dreams!” If only, but nonetheless you say it with a hopeful heart. Once he’s out of sight, you sigh and your gaze goes to the Los Angeles skyline again. Tonight your work will begin to rid this place of that beast- that is, you realize, you clean up the dishes that are left behind…


      Thanks for the help on that one, guys. Really appreciate it.  

Chapter Text

     Papers scatter the floor with runes and cryptic messages hiding their meaning from any outsiders as the gentle chirps of a cricket from outside your window brings you a sense of serenity. The moonlight shines in through the curtain and while alone it’s not enough to illuminate your room, when paired with the bedside lamp, it proves to be just right. The orange and blues hues melt together to create interesting shadows amongst your artifacts and along your walls- yet they fail to catch your attention as you have something of much greater importance at hand currently. The safety of your Dreamer, which is above any sort of distraction that’s thrown your way.

     All while wearing the PJs Mark had lent you the first time you arrived, which was delightfully and magically reclaimed, you study the words in your books with utter concentration. They rhyme and create darling spells one uses for such instances like your own, or offer information from the history of your kind and the others who have developed alongside it.  Both are fairly helpful, though you’re focusing more so on the spells before you get into studying the creature inhibiting Mark’s mind. Your finger skims across the pages and once you repeat the mantra enough to memorize it, you get ready to begin the spell properly. Hopping onto the bed, you reach over and turn off the light and air seems to go quiet- your cricket buddy apparently missing, you inhale and exhale deeply. Eyes shut, you sit with legs crossed and your elbows rest on your thighs; the position resembles the one seen in the book and in a soft, hushed voice the charm rolls off your tongue.

     “Yosia kellum o mitisia,” Keep them safe in the night,

     “Ui pulitzia r’obellae,” When we cannot,

     “Ryndo kellum o mitisia, ui denri sezas lot harenae.” Protect them in the night, when their enemies are in sight.

     As the words linger in the air, your eyes open again with a lavender glow shining from them against the darkness of the room. You begin to feel a wave of peace wash over which spreads a victorious smile onto your lips- though the war is far from done, this is a great step in the right direction. That beast is still here nonetheless, but for tonight, he’ll have no effect on your Dreamer. From this point on though, you’ll have to up the security each time with that thing being able to learn and adapt to such things. Turning the light back on you calm down prepare to stay up the rest of the night- which will consist of reading up on your history on how past Dream Makers dealt with threats. Though, the history of Dream Makers is something that’s always interesting amongst many present Dream Makers.

     After all, the tales of the Dream Makers beginnings have been oddly plentiful; each one differing from the last to the point where we don't even know ourselves which version is true and what's not. Though, if one thing is certain, it would be that Dream Makers were not always around. The Avant Period, a time in which there is no record of Dream Makers, was dark in terms of dreams, no matter how scarce they were back then. Creatures of the night would infect the mind and torment the Dreamers, occasionally driving them to pure insanity. They would make reality and fiction cross in the worst way possible, teasing their victims with deadly and sorrowful imagery. Perhaps, that is why the Dream Makers came about- or, at least according to one theory that is. The only resource Dream Makers have of their first presence amongst Dreamers is, peculiar as it may be, from the Dreamers.

     They started to write about us during Ancient Egyptian and Greek times, with characters like The Oneiroi and the god Tutu- both of which granted dreams. Tutu was said to protect against bad dreams and one of The Oneiroi, specifically the one made of horns, was said to be the source of prophetic dreams; as the other, made of ivory, was the source of meaningless dreams.  Although, both were still rather different than yourself and other Dream Makers.

     There was little doubt on the idea that Dream Makers had changed as the Dreamers had, slowly becoming closer to strengthen the link between a Dreamer and their Dream Maker. Somewhere during that time, it was decided that each Dream Maker will have only one Dreamer. This was good and bad; when Dream Makers fell they were easy able to adapt and due to our curious nature, explore alongside their Dreamers. Yet, this also resulted in the phenomena of young Dream Makers being inexperienced and more mistakes being made. This is still prevalent to this day.

     Dream Makers have come along way, but they weren’t the only ones who continued to advance. But strategies of how to defeat these creatures in the night, rose up and for each type of creature, certain methods worked better than others did. Some would be short and sure while others are long-term and can always change, you're currently looking for one that's long-term and sure. Of course, you're not opposed to returning after this trip, but you hope it wouldn't be for this reason.

     The piece of glass you found early sits on the table and you pick it up swiftly before plopping down on the floor. You study it curiously, the beast it belongs to probably already upset with the current spell; but, that's what happens when you're an evil jerk who messes with Mark's dreams.

     Its orange hue reflects the light across the tiny room, sighing, you clasp your hand around it and cease its rays, the shard slices into your palm ever so slightly causing a small droplet of blood to rise. The pain is hardly noticeable as you open your hand, with your non-bloody hand you pick up the slight stained red glass and set it aside as you reach into your bag, grabbing a piece of cloth and wrapping it around the little room if only to assure that there’s no blood stains anywhere else. That would be an odd thing to answer to, after all.

     Your now bandaged hand reaches for a certain book with a dark green cover with a golden pattern on the front, it resembles the pattern of celtic knots with a large branching tree in the middle- it’s honestly quite beautiful and pleasing to the eye. Flipping through the pages, you finally find the one you need and begin to read through them; the information it holds prove to be necessary and helps to build your mental library on the subject. You decide to continue building upon the information for the rest of the night and go from one book to another out of your eleven books to find out the most that you can. In the end, you stay up until the sun’s rays shine through your curtains and make you realize just how long you’ve been up. Eyes scan over the floor, which is a mess by now, and you decide to to clean up before you have a quick charging session. You hide your supplies away in your bag and get under the blissfully comfy blanket, shutting your eyes, your thoughts fade as your mind rests from all the work. You’re happy to say that the first night back has been a success for both you and you Dreamer, you hope it will continue that way.  


 

     “You already packed everything?” You question bewildered by his readiness, it’s not even ten in the morning and yet he has everything needed for the trip already packed up and ready to go.

     “Of course, not everyone sleeps in like you do,” He teases, his smirk threatening to show itself.

     Rolling your eyes playfully, you sigh and poke his arm, “I had a rough night,” an excuse that is an extreme simplification of the truth.

     “ Sure ,” Mark chuckles and pokes your arm back after tossing a bag into the trunk of his car, “Excuses aside-”

     “Oh hush, I’m telling you-”

      “ Excuses aside, you have anywhere you want to go first?” He shuts the trunk and leans against it to patiently await your answer.

      Shaking your head, you simply drop it and ponder as to what you wanted to do, it isn’t long until you come up with an answer. “Can we get some slush before we go? That’s all I want, everything else can be up to you!” You chime with a bright smile spreading across your cheeks.

      He laughs but nods nonetheless, “I should’ve known that’s what you were gonna say.” Mark throws an arm around your shoulder and rubs your arm, his own smile mirroring your own, “How do you love slushees so much?”

      You raise a brow as you start to ask the real question, “How do you not love them that much? They’re such simple treats yet they’re so delicious and chilly! You could even say, I think they’re the coolest!” You offer a playful wink after that little pun- to which he responds with a groan and begrudging laughter.

     “And you still make really bad puns,” Mark r uns a hand through his hair and despite his complaint, he continues to laugh.

     “Then why are you laughing? Huh?” Your lips don a cheeky smirk as you poke his stomach, proceeding to mess with the sweetheart.

     “Because they’re so bad and stupid!” He explains and you begin to laugh with him, his reasoning is obviously flawed as you know very well that you’re puns are just punderful!

     “ Sure,” You playfully repeat, hugging his waist, “Now, can we go get some slush already?”

     “If that’s what you want, chickadee,” His voice rings out cheerfully- a light laugh still lingering, he presses a kiss to your head, “Go ahead and hop in the car.”

     Your smirk settles back into a smile and you do just as you’re told, hopping into the passenger seat and excitedly await your kingdom of slushee to come.

 


 

     The chilled but divine taste of blue raspberry greets your tastebuds in the most splendid meeting. Mark ends up deciding that the park would be a relaxed but enjoyable day out and so, the two of you are now catching up on a blanket beneath a shady willow tree. Your cooled treat keeps you cool as well and Mark sips on his own, in between sips, the two of you go back and forth with simple questions.

     “Are there any new games you’re really into?”

     “Yeah! One called ‘Prey’. It’s just amazing- everything from the game play to the graphics. Plus, it’s in space! I love space!” His voice wistfully explains his adoration for the game, “I’ll have to show you, I think you’ll really like it.” Mark turns his head over to yours, his eyes holding a soft gaze with your own.

      You giggle and nod in agreement, “I’m sure I will, Mark. Space is pretty cool,” you agree with a beaming smile. Although, the Dream Maker realm isn’t exactly space, it’s also not not space- rather just in space but on a separate plane possibly. A plane that’s abundant with clouds yet still has the stars watching from above.

      “Where have you gone while you were away?”

     You hum in thought and shrug, “Maine, obviously,” you remember that’s where your ‘family’ is, and begin to list off a few more places you hope he wouldn’t be able to poke holes through, “I’ve been through quite a few states of course but I stayed the longest in Maryland, Wisconsin, and Oregon.”

      He nods and before you can slip in a question, he adds another one, “Did you meet anyone there?” While he attempts to ask it nonchalantly, you can sense a nervousness in his voice- which you can’t quite understand. There’s millions of people, how couldn’t you meet at least one person in one state-nevertheless three?

     Yet, Mark’s only asking in a hope to be subtle about a topic that’s been in the back of his mind since you arrived, did you meet someone that charmed their way into your heart like he has? Is there still an opportunity for a relationship to bloom or have you gotten in one since you’ve left? To say the least, Mark’s a bit jealous and paranoid around this subject.

     “What exactly do you mean by that, Mark?”

     He exhales deeply and his eyes shift to yours, holding curious but calm emotions within them, “Were there any others that you had a relationship with?” It’s a simple but troublesome question, because if there’s a chance that your feelings have minimized while his has stayed just as strong as they were before- the joy in his heart would dampen and tear apart like a piece of paper being dropped into water.

     And as much as you want to keep this a somewhat serious moment, you couldn’t help but laugh at that preposterous idea. Setting down your blue beverage, you turn to face him with a crooked smile on your lips, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but is someone jealous for no reason?”

     Of course, Mark scoffs and chuckles, “What? No, no, not at all! ” He tries to convince though fails to, his arm reaches back to scratch the back of his neck and ease his nerves. He’s been caught, hasn’t he? Though, it won’t stop him from trying to blow it off, “I’m not jealous, just curious.”  

     Raising a brow, you shoot him a questioning look and begin to think of a mischievous plan. “Oh really ?”

     “Really.”

     “If you say so…” You trail off and then proceed to lean into him, a coy smile crossing your lips as you look up him, “Then what about you, Markimoo? Did you meet anyone while I was away?”

     Mark laughs and shakes his head, “No, between projects and work I don’t have much time.” Which is quite reasonable, Mark can be a bit of a workaholic and you can see how that may interfere with meeting new people outside of his career web.

     You nod and bite your lip, “So...Just wondering, how would you react if I did meet someone?” Are you pushing it a bit? Maybe, but only slightly. Besides, you’ve never seen the jealous side of Mark and out of pure curiosity, you now want to see that side of him.

     His brows furrow as his cool brown orbs move to yours, “Why do you wanna know?” A becoming smirk on his expression gives away his own growing interest in the conversation.

     Deciding to be honest, you shrug simply and answer truthfully, “‘Cause I’m curious to see you jealous-”

      “-I don’t get jealous,” Mark interjects though it only convinces you more of his possible jealousy in situations.

     “I’m not really getting that vibe, Mark. If anything, you’re probably a pretty jealous person, huh?” You tease, fighting back a giggle as you watch him shake his head with a sigh.

     “I am not."

     “You totally are.”

     “No.”

     “Yes!”

     Mark chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, “What about you?”

     His questions catches you off guard, you tilt your hand and repeat his question, “What about me?”

     It’s now his time to be overconfident, which isn’t exactly a rare occurrence to begin with. “How jealous do you get?”

     You think for a moment and begin to realize that, in fact, you would be rather jealous if Mark had found someone. Though, you aren’t quite sure if that’s due to the celestial bond, a Dream Maker’s natural possessiveness over Dreamers, or just your own personality- or possibly a combination of the three. You laugh and nod, “I think I would be fairly jealous, not gonna lie.”

     Mark chuckles and smiles happily, “Then, maybe, just maybe, I think I may have been a bit jealous if you had met someone.” To know that you’d be jealous if he had found someone, well, it actually makes him delighted and hopeful that you do still return your feelings for him.

     “Good! I think I’d love to see you being jealous,” You admit, as you find yourself being pulled closer to him, his arm settling around your waist.

     “I think I’d like to see you jealous too,” Mark agrees, another chuckle flowing sweetly from his lips, “It’d be funny!”

     You roll your eyes playfully and poke his chest, “You’d be the funny one, if anything!”

     “No,” He ‘corrects’ as he then uses an oddly high pitched voice to say the rest, “Oh Markimoo! Stop talking to her! My heart, I can’t stand it! Markimoo, no!”

     Your eyes narrow as you watch this peculiar mockery of his, you groan and run a hand through your locks. If he’s going to play this way, then so are you. In the best baritone voice you can do, you start, “My chickadee stop talking to him! I’m way more handsome and funny than he is, guaranteed! Baby, no!”

     This eventually progresses into a playful banter and somehow ends up with the two of you running from each other in the park; namely, you are running away from Mark. Yet, the two of you never seem to stop laughing even if it causes you to lose your breath quicker, it can’t be helped.

     A pair of strong arms lift you up and throw you onto their owner’s shoulder, “Mark! Put me down!” You try to be demanding but your bout of giggles make it hard to do so.

     “Never!” He screams, and while you can’t see his face, you can hear that boastful smile in his voice and a similar one begins to spread onto your own lips.

     “You’re such an idiot!”

     “I'm your idiot, baby!”

 

Chapter Text

      “Look chickadee, it’s you!” Mark exclaims as he points to a little gray bird with a primarily black head of feathers aside from a single white stripe from its beak to the side of its head. Its feathery form bounces about in the tree- slightly jittery but overall it seems to be relaxed as it takes its time just exploring the tree around it. Whether or not Mark meant to be teasing or playful, you smile cheerfully and watch the tiny ball of feathers with adoration.

     “Mark, that is one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” You begin a light giggle on your lips, “how on earth am I that adorable little bird?” You’ve seen chickadees before, but you always seem to forget just how precious they are. Your current beaked buddy looks to be the size of your palm, if not smaller.

     Although you aren’t looking, Mark rolls his eyes playfully as a crooked smile slides onto his expression, “I swear you make me be cheesy,” he shakes his head and turns to look at you, “You’re that ‘adorable little bird’ because you’re one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen.” Yet, the raven-haired lad also feels the need to add a quick quip to counter the cheesiness of his previous statement, “Plus, I’ve gotta say, you have a bit of a bird brain.”

     Your head whips over to look at his with eyes wide and brows knitted together, “I do not!” You protest, your lips shifting into a proud smirk, “I think I’m quite smart!”

     Mark raises a teasing brow, “You sure about that?" 

     A slightly shocked gasp leaves your lungs and you can’t help the hint of laughter that escapes you- you give him a friendly shove after shaking your head. “You asshole! Yes, I am positive!”

     He hums in thought and strokes his stubble, “You’ll have to prove it…” Mark trails off as he tries to think of a way to ‘test’ you, the moment you see a shit-eating grin cross his face you realize he’s found his solution. “I’m going to give you a test on the most important subject ever, can you guess what it is?” The way his eyebrows wiggle in anticipation gave you a rather good idea of what this ‘subject’ may be.

     “Is it you?”

     “No! Ha I- Oh wait,” Not expecting you to get it, he chuckles sheepishly, “Actually, yes, that is the topic.” A light rouge dusts his cheeks in response to this ounce of embarrassment, you simply proceed to laugh at his silly blunder, “Oh shut up,” it is now his turn to return a friendly shove in your direction, which almost ceases your laughter. A bubble of joyous giggles escaping every now and again. “Are you ready for your test, chickadee?” 

     “Ready as I’ll ever be, Markimoo!” You exclaim, being a Dream Maker does have some benefits like being able to access vague memories- though this would still be far easier if he would be asleep and you would be in your true Dream Maker state; a time in which you could assess his memories in depth. Nonetheless, you believe you’ll do fairly well in this test of his. You watch as he prepares the questions in his mind, his lips purse as he tries to think of question, the hand resting on your arm subconsciously traces circles into your skin. Ever since that most delightful chase and him carrying you for about half way across the park, in a rather uncomfortable manner as well, the two of you stopped at a charming park bench under a shady tree. Though, eventually, you’ll return to your previous settlement. For now; however, this bench is just perfect.

     “Okay, we’ll start off easy. What’s my whole name?” The tiny circles stop and instead his eyes land on yours.

     “Mark Edward Fischbach, simple.” You shrug, leaning into him further, “What else you got?”

     He chuckles and tells you what else he has, “And where did I live before L.A?”

     “Cincinnati, Ohio,” Albeit, your answers may roll a far bit too fast off your tongue, but as you assume, his fans could have probably answered quicker than you just did. Mark nods and mumbles something about doing a good job.

     “What did I do in high school? Like, ‘club’ wise?” Mark inquires, and while for a moment you weren’t exactly sure what he meant, you soon come to the realization.

     “Oh! You were in marching band! Trumpet, right?” A bright smile crosses your lips, which Mark returns along with a light laugh.

     “Right,” He assures, and in deciding to throw you a wild ball- he asks a most obscure question, “What was my high school nickname?”

     Your brows knit together as you scan over your mental files for the answer. Whatever it may be, obviously hadn’t been impactful in his life and would be a trivial little fact about himself. “Can I get a hint?” If you can at least have some tidbits of information around the nickname, it may bring up some memories and lead you to the answer.

      You hear him give out an audible and exaggerated sigh, “I guess so.” He ponders quietly for a moment as you try to hold back a giggle from his reaction, “People started calling me it because of a glitter incident.”

     A glitter incident? Glitter is that bothersome and sparkly infestation of colors, isn’t it? Most commonly used in crafts and is noted for its persistence, no matter how hard you try- you can never get rid of that sparkling parasite. Maybe that’s it… “Does it rhyme?”

     “It does.”

     “Was it Markle Sparkle?” You ask, unable to withhold a laugh or two due to the silliness of the nickname- if that is what it was.

     “It was!” He exclaims with his own laughter following, “I was ol’ Markle Sparkle because someone threw glitter all over me.”

     Your laughter only increases as you shake your head, “Oh God, I kind of want you to be Markle Sparkle again,” you say along with a devious, but playful, smirk spreads on your lips.

     Mark shakes his head and pokes your nose as if scolding you for such a thought, “No, he is not making a comeback! Glitter is like the herpes of crafting, I don’t want it in my house,” his boisterous laughter only gets louder and you’re reminded that indeed, you can still hear it from miles away if you want to.

     “Better watch out then, Markimoo!”

     “Says the girl who hardly knows Los Angeles well enough to find a craft store,” He quips with a cocky slanted smile and you blink before proceeding to shake your head again.

     “Alright, you got me there. I can admit when I’m defeated,” You admit and while you’re about to add on, he starts to talk instead.

     “Y’know, while Markle Sparkle won’t be coming back, I actually do have a few other personas who’ve come back lately,” He looks toward you and sees the swirling confusion in your eyes, “Do you know what I mean?”

     While feeling as though you may have an inkling as to what he’s talking about, you’re still uncertain and in case it may somehow relate that beast, you figure letting him explain may be best. So, you offer a nervous chuckle and shake your head, “Not exactly?”

     The glimmer of excitement that lights up in his brown hues tell you that he doesn’t mind explaining at all. In fact,  he’s rather excited and enthusiastic as he begins to talk about this concept of having personas separate from yourself- like a version of yourself in a different reality or universe per se. “So, for a long time on my YouTube channel, my fanbase and I have made these alternate versions of myself. And for a while, they were around every now and again, but now, I’ve really brought them back and they’re becoming something much more than before. It’s always so much fun to make videos as these egos and see all the ideas my fans have about them. It’s the best,” He explains, the smile never leaving his face and the light never leaving his eyes. In return, you gain some of that light as your heart fills with joy from watching him shine while talking about this passion of his.

     “It sounds fun!” You beam, “What are these egos? If you don’t mind me asking.”

     Mark chuckles and shrugs, “Why would I mind?” He sighs happily and starts to name off his most popular egos, “There’s the two ‘main’ egos: Darkiplier and Wilford Warfstache. Then there’s a few others like Googleplier, the Host, Bim Trimmer, Ed Edgar, Dr. Iplier, and the Silver Shepard. There’s a few more, but those are the main ones.”

     You awe at the idea and begin to ponder to yourself how these alters came to be and you can’t help but admire the creativity of both Mark and his fanbase, “There’s so many…” And because of a curious thought, you laugh and look up at the sweetheart, “Out of your egos, which do you think would like me?”

     It’s a simple question but it hard Mark repeating that lovely yet loud laugh of his along with a faint, but visible, blush on his cheeks. With his free hand, he scratches the back of his neck and thinks over your question, “For your own sake, I wouldn’t say Dark or Wilford- maybe even Google. I think Bim Trimmer would like you a lot- probably find you cute,” he quickly offers a cheeky wink, “-though, you might have to compete with Matthias.”

     Laughing, the two of lean in closer to one another, “Is this yet another person I have to meet?”

     “Definitely.”

     “Marvelous!” You decide to shift and simply move to rest your head on his lap, his fingers soon find your hair and begin to mindlessly play with your locks, “So, why not Dark or Wilford?”

     Mark can’t help but shake his head, “Because they aren’t as nice as I am,” he looks up to the clouds and continues speaking, “Dark is practically everything I’m not. He’s manipulative, deceptive, and emotionless. So, if he liked you, it may mean good things for you. While with Wilford, he’s just insane ,” he chuckles, “loves to kill and doesn’t see anything wrong with it all while being as bubbly and odd as a wacky reporter. With either ego, you wouldn’t be well off. Which is why it’s a good thing they’re just fictional.”

     For some reason, you an interest in these egos and make a mental note to ask him more about them later on.

      “Jack has one too,” Mark interrupts your thoughts though your eyes light up as you look up at him.

     “Really? Oh we can call him later, right? I’d love to hear about his, as well!” You chime, already wondering about the possibilities of what his egos may include.

     “Course! And until we can, you can always Skype or text him if you want- Signe too.” Mark points out and your love for your Danish friend rekindles and a new excitement bubbles up in your mind at the hope of talking to her soon.

     “Absolutely! I’ve missed them so much.”

     “More than me?”

     You roll yours eyes and smile up at the doof above you, “Hardly, you goofball.”

     “Good, otherwise I wouldn’t buy you anymore slushees.” How dare he! Threatening so significant in your life? What gives himi the right to take away your frozen splendor? Obviously, he sees the shock on your face and bursts into laughter, “Why do you look so offended?”

     “Because it’s my chilled haven!” You explain, trying to hold back the smile on your lips and act serious.

     “I swear, you’re the most passionate person about slushees that I’ve ever met,” Mark raises his brows, amazed by your love for slushees. If you love him half as much as you love those slushees, he thinks that you’d be going all ‘Yandere-chan’ on his ass.

     “Says the guy who almost instantly asked me to cook for him when I came back after months of being away,” You watch as Mark opens his mouth to try and defend himself but then closes it realizing you caught him in a corner, eyes hiding from your own, he chuckles lowly at his own love for very specific food- mainly being anything cooked by you. “Truce?”

     “Truce.”


 

     Everything is just about packed up into the car as the sun begin to sets on this Californian day. The orange sky mixes in with the clouds to create floating, fluffy forms along the skyline, the rays of the sun give their last effort and shine brightly as they descend, causing trees and bushes to become a silhouette against the plains. Sunsets were something you always found yourself missing when you were back home, as there are no sunsets or sunrises. There are only changes of the blue in the sky- though every now and again the yellow light beams through the clouds and casts in a beautiful and soft light into your world. But here, in the realm of Dreamers, a sunrise or sunset surpasses those short moments in your world every time.

     Mark catches you in your daze and the corners of his lips turn up into a gentle smile, adoring the way you seem to lose yourself in the beauty of nature. Ever since you came into his life, you seemed to do that. And to be completely honest, he finds it unbelievably cute. To be so intuned with nature and being able to take time to simply watch it, he admires that about you. YouTube has made it a bit harder to do that, yet with you, he remembers how to. He may never say it, but Mark’s thankful for that.

     A breath passes his lips as he approaches you and rests his hands on the trunk of his car as he leans against, shifting his weight onto his right leg. “Y’know, it’s almost as radiant as yourself.”

     The little giggle that escapes you warms his heart, the way your face lights up with both embarrassment and pure happiness only adds to that. No matter how cheesy his lines may be, you always laugh- whether it’s because they’re good or just goofy, he isn’t quite sure, though he thinks it may be the latter. “Back at it with the pick-up lines, huh?”

     “What can I say? I’m just that smooth.”

     “You mean you’re just that dorky.”

     “Eh, tomato, tomato, am I right? Besides, you like them.”

     “Regretfully, I do like a few.”

     “And that’s why they’re worth it, if I can have you laugh and like at least a few of them, my mission will be complete,” Mark admits, which earns him a swift kiss on the cheek, rendering him speechless for a moment due to being overjoyed.

     “I think it’s already complete, Markimoo.” He looks over and while you’re still facing the sunset, you sneak a glance from the corner of your eye and for he sees such felicity in those spectacular orbs of yours. Mark wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him, which to happily oblige by, and then places a sweet kiss atop your head.

     “Maybe the first part, but I’ve still got a lot in store for you, chickadee. Just you wait.”

Chapter Text

     

     You press the small red square on the screen which, according to Mark, ends the call and you set the phone down on the tan, white, and black speckled granite countertops. The smooth and cold surface chills your hand as it slides across, the wait for the circular and cheesy dinner to arrive begins as the sounds of Mark and his friends recording upstairs fills the house. Your light laughter echoes out into the kitchen as you listen to some of the most odd and angry phrases you’ve ever heard come out of those rooms, from what he told you, Mark is recording a ‘peaceful’ game of mini-golf that turns out to be anything but. Meanwhile, Tyler is out with Ethan who you will meet soon over tonight’s delectable dinner of pizza.

     Until then; however, you are content with contemplating life on the couch with the lovely golden retriever, Chica. You lay across the couch, body sinking into the worn cushions and back leaning against the throw pillow that’s also leaning against the armrest, all the while Chica takes up all the space on your legs and the majority of your torso with her fluffy blonde body. The man over the phone, who had an odd but intriguingly deep voice- one that you feel as though you would hear in one of the cartoons playing on T.V, had said that the pizza will be coming in about twenty minutes. Ergo, aside from the possibly two or less minute preparation, you have around eighteen minutes to waste doing whatever you want. While you could continue your search into the room of the beast and your Dreamer, you’d prefer not to risk the chance of being caught and having that awkward explanation occur again, especially since you doubt there is anything more to find due to your previous exploration. Instead, it may be better to try and actually make contact- even though you have a feeling that a good ol’ talking to will do nothing for your situation. If anything, it may make them feel more daring in order to show you that they’re in control.

      The more and more you look into this monster, you begin to come to a final solution. So, while you still aren’t sure- you believe it may be a creature who not only has the ability to mess with dreams, but once strong enough, can even alter their prey’s reality. A long time foe of the Dream Makers, a long time thorn in our side, and a long time nuisance for Dreamers. Only, this nuisance, is more than any mere sadistic trickster, if this creature really is what you believe it to be, then their goal is far bigger than hurting Mark, mentally or physically. Rather, this creature wants to become Mark, or possibly, take control of Mark’s life. Simply the thought makes your chest clench and the beating of your heart increase, making it seem as though the world was crushing and compacting into your own little bubble- everything is just weighing on you. In this short moment you have alone, without any Mark or Tyler to worry, you simply let it run you over. Let the negativity flow and be replaced by the positive energy that you know you have somewhere. After all, while you may have a typically optimistic viewpoint of life, situations like these allow you to drown in the possibility of horrific outcomes until you come to lighter conclusions that show there is hope- because there is always hope, no matter what.  

     And in this current predicament, you know that there is a way to come out on top. Maybe you have never faced such a threat before, but Dream Makers before you would fight vehemently against these creatures far more often and yet they still waged victorious. If you need to find the oldest book of Dream Makers there is just to find the solution, you will without any hesitation. As long as you can help Mark, you’ll go to any length to make things right. It’s your life’s purpose to help maintain the peace in his life and dreams, if something is interfering with that, then it truly is your life’s purpose to defeat it and remain in control.  

     The only problem is that you’ve managed to lose some control, something any Dream Maker despises. You just hope it isn’t affecting Mark too too much. Problems with sleeping can and will become problems in other parts of his life.

     Though, your period of pondering comes to a halt as a familiar ring of the doorbell bounces off the walls of the house and into your mildly distracted ears. Nonetheless, you hop up and greet the delivery man, handing him the money and taking the branded cardboard boxes into the house after bidding him a nice night. Setting them on the counter, you walk towards the cupboard and grab out some plates and cups to prepare for the other arrival you’re expecting tonight. You know his name is Ethan, and from what Tyler and Mark have told you, he seems like a sweet and fun-loving guy with a sense of humor. In your opinion, you wouldn’t mind hanging out with such a person- especially on a delightfully relaxed kind of day.  You’ve also been told that his hair is a vibrant blue and you can’t help but wonder: is it slushee blue? You also can’t help but wonder if you’ve developed an addiction for the magical chilled beverage by now. It’s only been four days since you’ve gotten back and yet you’ve had six of those dastardly delectable things. Maybe you should cut back a bit.

     Tyler and Ethan show up only a few minutes later after this pizza arrives, you assume Mark texted them to head back to his place for dinner. It’s that or Ethan just so happens to be psychic. As well as the fact that Mark is rather quick when it comes to updating- not only his fans- but his friends, so he could've very easily sent a fast text to update the two. Either way, the four of you find your preferred slice and sit down on the couch, you claim your spot next to the arm of the couch- the cozy throw pillow offering extra comfort- and beside you sits Mark who has already started to nibble away at his piece of pizza. At the opposite end is Tyler, silently residing and making sure to have comfort with a few shiftings of his spot to gain it before he can begin his dinner. Ethan, on the other hand, sits on the ‘throne’ of the room sideways, his body laying across the plush cream colored seat- Chica eagerly awaiting a piece of pizza to fall: though as Ethan likes Hawaiian style, she may be lucky and be able to catch some ham or pineapple that may slide or just simply fall off his slice.

     The plate warms your lap as it waits for you to take a bite of the triangular treat, which you oblige happily and scoop the slice up to your mouth and do as it wished. The taste satisfying your hungry stomach, you hum in delight and soon take one more bite, and then another, and another until all that remains are the grease stains on your paper plate. Although, you realize you weren’t the only one as during your pizza induced daze, Mark made the cushion beside you vacant to refill his own pizza load. Tyler must have gone along as you begin to see that you are indeed the only person on the couch; however, Ethan remains in the cozy throne like seat, still munching away. Offering a kind smile, you try to start a conversation with the blue-haired stranger, “How’s the Hawaiian? I’ve never had it before.”

     Ethan places his slice on his plate and nods eagerly, “It’s the best!” He chuckled and sat up straighter so he could talk to you easier, “It looks like it wouldn’t be, but trust me, the flavors all just combine to make this sweet but savory new flavor that is way better than any sausage or pepperoni pizza.” The blue-haired sweetheart grinned, albeit the occasional change into a smirk whenever he talked about how his favorite pizza’s splendid is better than any other saucy challenger.

     The moment Mark and Tyler walk back into the living room they are… taken back, to say the least. They were greeted with a proud Ethan declaring the benefits and superiority of Hawaiian style pizza with an almost entranced you, hanging onto to every word and sharing in a laugh or two with the younger YouTuber. It’s a sweet sight, not that Tyler or Mark had any doubt that you and Ethan wouldn’t get along- they just didn’t expect the two of you would get along so well and so quickly. The both of you enjoying this playful conversation that leads you to craving a slice yourself, had Mark and Tyler really been gone long enough for the two of you to begin such a conversation over pizza that got both of you totally enthralled into what the other has to say? Although Mark would never admit it, a pit of jealousy begins to grow- worried that your affections for him may soon change paths and lead you to Ethan instead… He’s foolish to think such things, isn’t he?

     Instead of letting his mind be consumed with unreasonable jealousy, Mark sits back down in the seat he held previously and decides to be rational. He chuckles as you and Ethan have a little laugh over a pineapple related joke the darling blue bean told and he eagerly begins to interject himself into the conversation. Because, you know, he’s not jealous . Nope, Mark Fischbach is not at all jealous because that wouldn’t be rational. Ethan is his friend and you are… well, more than a friend but not exactly his girlfriend, the point is that you both have friendly personalities and are simply having a fun conversation. There’s no reason to feel jealousy- which is why he doesn’t, obviously .

     Nonetheless, the conversation soon opens up with the other two lads joining in and begins to transform into a debate of pizza preference. When you finally decide to get another slice, you dare to go against Mark and Tyler’s argument and instead, switch to the Hawaiian side. After all, Ethan had quite convincing points and your curiosity also urged you to try this different and cool style of italian cuisine. To say the room splits when you return would be an understatement, an especially offended Mark surprises you the most.

     “You chose his side?!” Your dear Markimoo exasperates, the pain of ‘betrayal’ evident in those chocolate brown orbs of his.

     You merely shrug and take a seat next to this bewildered boy of yours, “Ethan made some pretty good points, besides, it looks like it would be delicious.” Your light laughter passed your lips as you leaned back in the couch, taking a bite of this treacherous triangle- resulting in Tyler and Mark gasping and a very happy Ethan cheering you on.

     “See! It’s not disgusting! You like it, don’t you (Y/n)?” Ethan’s confident tone echoes out into the room, hoping that he won’t be the only one who likes it anymore. The three boys seem like they’re on the edge of their seats waiting for your judgement to be passed down as if the fate of the world depended on it.

     “In my opinion…” You trail off, mildly enjoying this slow torture while each side is ready to scream for victory, “Hawaiian style pizza… Is.... Delicious!”

     “Damn it!”

     “Yes! Yes! Ha! Take that Mark!”

     Tyler remains silently resigned and settles for shaking his head disapprovingly. Each of the three boys’ dramatic reactions invite your laughter to add to the conversational pot- you’ve missed times like these while you were away, where you can relax and be apart of a weird friendly discussion. Not that there weren’t things similar back home, but there’s always an underlying worry that the longer you talk, the less time you have to recharge, the less time you have to recharge, the more likely you are to mess up. This; however, is carefree and you can truly rest and let yourself come undone with these wonderful goofballs! Your heart, mind, and soul are, quite simply put, at peace.

     The rest of the night goes on in a similar fashion, playful debates and teasing all around. The four of you tried to play a movie, but eventually little commentary over the film bursted into more full on conversations which would lead to new topics and the movie being only background noise. Tyler and yourself were a bit frustrated about that, although seeing as how it wasn’t going to end anytime soon, gave up and got into the conversations as well.

     By the time you look at the clock again, the time is 11:16 pm. You’re about to say something until a yawn escapes and you laugh lightly, beginning to feel the effects of not having enough time to recharge the previous night.

     Ethan chuckles along and gives you an understanding nod, “Yeah, I should probably get home now, guys.” He smiles warmly and gives the three of you a quick hug, “Tyler, Mark, I’ll text you guys, tomorrow, okay? (Y/n), it was really nice to meet you and you’re officially my pizza buddy, got it?”

     Without thinking, you salute to him for some reason, “Got it!”

     The blue-haired boy laughs once more, waving goodbye and goodnight up until he got in his car- the headlights illuminated the road and you watch as they help to lead the way back to his apartment until you can no longer see him. Mark closes the door and brings his arms above his head, stretching the limbs to get them loose again after having to sit in the same spot for over four hours. “I think Ethan has the right idea, so, I’m going up, too.” He walks to you and opens his newly-stretched limbs for you to be wrapped up in. With a giggle, you comply and hug the man in front of you and he returns by giving you a little squeeze- you ponder for a moment and come to the conclusion that this must be what’s referred to as a ‘bear hug’. A hug that’s tight, yet comforting.

     After what feels like forever, Mark let go and settles with a quick ruffle of your hair, “Sweet dreams, chickadee.”

    You couldn’t help but smile and retort with a teasing punch in the arm, “You too, Markimoo.” Said Markimoo then continues to say goodnight to Tyler, and with Mark going to sleep- you remember you still need to cast a protection spell. You couldn’t wait until you figured out how to permanently get rid of this damned beast. Feet pad over towards Tyler and your hands give a little wave, “I’m a bit sleepy too, so, I’ll see you tomorrow, Ty.”

      The brunette nodded and sat back on the couch, “I’m just going back to actually watch the movie, so I’ll still be up- hopefully, I won’t wake you.” He politely yet cheekily remarks and you had to bite your lip to avoid instant laughter.

       Waving a hand dismissively, you assured him that no such thing would happen and that, in fact, you are an amazingly good heavy sleeper- of which you both had a short chuckle about before you officially part from him. As you close your door you sigh contently before a slap in the face from reality hits you.

       You have to cast the spell while Tyler is awake; instead of him waking you, it may end up being the opposite- a situation that you never wish to arrive. If they found out… Well, the tales of probing and brutal, mad scientists run through your mind and you had to shake your head to ignore those thoughts. Even if they accidently found you out, they would never report you to their government. You know Mark and he knows you, he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you- a fact that makes your heart swell with adoration.

Chapter Text

     The flames flicker in the darkness and struggle to give off as much light as possible to illuminate the room, the ones possessing a sunny yellow offer the most while the beautiful sea blue offers the least- yet, aside from its fellow green flames, seem to be the most entrancing of the candles. They vary in colors greatly, from a stark red to a mystic violet that intrigues the eye- they shake ever so slightly and their burning allows an earthy, flowery fragrant to spread throughout the room. Though seemingly set out randomly, the candles form a spiral if seen from above and in the center of their sequence- a sequence that places the candles in color order which also shows the rising in heat by default- is a relatively small plush cushion with you sitting atop it comfortably.

     Your hands rest in your lap folded as the magical chant, while coming out as nothing but a mumble, fills the silent room and seems to send a volt of electricity up your spine. You have to resist the urge to shiver as the words leave your lips- but you manage to stay strong and follow through till the end of this mantra, securing the perfect result of this spell. This one happens to be stronger than the previous spell and becomes even more specific to this beast you are fighting against.

     Once the spell was completely casted, your eyes open and instantly, the candle closest to you is blown out by an unknown source, the one after soon falling into that same demise and the rest, like dominos, do the same. One by one the flames quickly zap out of existence, the last one to go is out within seconds after your eyes opened with what appears to be a bright blue stream of smoke emerging from them. The room is now shrouded in darkness and the fleeting light of the magical plume of smoke dissipates and leaves you blind. Carefully, you stand up and tip toe around the burnt out candles and over to the bedside lamp, feeling around a bit, you finally find the switch and press down on the ‘on’ side, its soft orange glow filling up the room and brings about serenity. As if you hadn’t taken a true breath since you began the ritual, a heavy exhale leaves your lungs and soft smile works its way onto your expression- the energy of the room, of the entire house possibly, feels lighter and much more welcoming.

     You can’t help but picture the dangerous and menacing beast having a temper tantrum at this predicament you made for him.

     So far, you're winning in this ‘game’ between the two of you- a struggle for power, and for whatever you lost while you were still in your ‘realm’- for lack of a better word- you seem to have reclaimed since you came back. Despite his efforts, which you feel during the castings, you truly are proud to say you always come out on top!

     Albeit, your methods have only been temporary and in the end, you’ve still no idea how to solve this dilemma permanently. So, you suppose the beast has got you beat there…

     Which, may very well be the most important place to win in after all is said and done.

      If you can’t find a way to eliminate this threat to Mark, will it eventually wear you down and completely seize control over him?

     You groan at the thought as you fall back onto the cozy bed; one way or another, you will find the right path that gives you the results you want.

     Pursing your lips, you look up to the ceiling and ponder over this problem. The light from the lamp spraying out against the white canvas above, its glows progressively fades into black as it reaches the further ends of the room and simply allows a calming transition that leads one deeper into thought- and you follow that lead- beginning to think out the little details and starting to develop a plan for your final victory. A factor of that plan being to find out methods the Dreamers even use against such forces- an easy task seeing as the Dreamers, you believe, have a name for this creature. Yet, the name and idea surrounding this creature is practically the opposite of what it really is, which makes you worry a bit over what a Dreamer’s methods may be about them. Even if you doubt there will be any tactics at all, you will look as far back as possible if it means even the slightest hint on how to take them down permanently.

     However, your thoughts also lead you to your old method of peaceful pondering and you can’t help but find the idea tempting! Do you dare take a dip in the pool so late at night? It wouldn’t be that bad of an idea… Especially since all your whimsical deeds are done for the night.

     You know what, why not!

     It can be your victory swim, adding salt to the beast’s already wounded ego.

     You hop off the bed and unzip one of your bags to pull out an outfit you don’t mind getting wet- that being a pair of jean shorts and a deep navy tee; you may or may not have prepared clothing this time around- save for you pajamas, which you are happy to keep as the ones Mark lent you; his old T-shirt and basketball shorts. They’re comfy and they remind you of him, so how could any other PJs be better? Along with that conclusion, you lay them out on your bed as something warm and cozy to change back into when you return.

     After changing, you walk to the door and look back at your room with a skeptical raise of the brow, if anyone happens to come in here… They would most definitely wonder about your motives. But, no one would right? Mark and Tyler both are respectful and would knock before entering, besides, Mark is already asleep and Tyler is still downstairs. There’s no reason to worry- so, you shut the door behind you and despite the nagging paranoia in the back of your mind, you continue down to the pool.

     As your feet pad down the stairs, you see Tyler passed out on the couch and you hold back a laugh at the adorable sight. You shake your head fondly and sigh, turning, you proceed on your path to the pool sliding the glass door as you walk outside, the rush of fresh air proving to be far more intoxicating than any other scent as it fills your lungs.

     Along with the city lights in the distance, the stars hang over the sky as if a toddler sparkled the almost-black-navy with a dash of glitter and ending up going a bit over board, though all the same, it ends up being beautiful and sends a wistful arrow to the heart making you long for the stars company. The desire being too strong and with a string of giggles from your lips, you run and jump into the pool.

     Water flies above you like wings once you dive in, the rest of the water; however, encompases you as you sink below the surface. The small bubbles acting like string as they rise up from your body and back into the air, almost like a marionette as you fall deeper and deeper into the water’s embrace. When your eyes finally open, a muted laugh literally bubbles from your lips- a feeling of energetic joy surges through your body and, while holding your breath, you rise up to break the water tension and fill your lungs with more of that intoxicating air. The smile on your cheeks never stops and you let out an airy giggle as you greet the stars once more- they create tiny diamonds in your own pools of color as you look up to them, wondering if your gaze manages to stare up into the world of Dream Makers. You doubt it- but that would be interesting, wouldn’t it?

     You make a swift movement backwards, feeling the water’s wake around you as you move, and rest into a simple float above the water and your eyes shut to merely experience every other sensory option in this moment.

     There’s typically a light breeze during the night, though it seems to overlook this night and along with the already warm water due to the sun’s cheerful rays from the day, you feel comfortably warm and content as you float about. Albeit, every now and again there does seem to be a faint brush of a breeze on your skin- you don’t mind it much, if it becomes more persistent; however, then you most likely would mind. Being dripping wet is one thing, but add a chilling breeze to that, and you end up with a cold, soaked, and grumpy Dream Maker. And a possibly sick one as well, though, in that case, you would be able to indulge in some soup or hot chocolate… Or both, so it’s not too bad.

     Either way, for the most part, it’s silent. There is no obnoxious or annoying sound waves lingering in the air and rattling in your ear and causing you distress- no, instead, there’s a soft melody that the ever so light breeze carries whenever it does come, it’s nice and welcome for its short debuts every couple of minutes that it decides to play. Setting your heart and mind at ease, it occasionally harmonizes with the distant sounds of the city, which are thankfully far enough away to not become overbearing.

     And last but not least, as said before, the smell of the fresh air puts you to ease. There’s little hints of other things though; for example, a possible crackling campfire with maple wood burning the scent into the atmosphere or the simple smell of chlorine from the pool surrounding you, or the slight scent of desert flowers and other flora that settle around the house. But, in any perfect mixing bowl, these fragrances meet one another and combine to make a relaxing scent that puts your senses at rest- allowing you to just breath in and breath out this unique yet simple blend that’s pleasing to smell. A reason that adds to your intoxication with the fresh air of Los Angeles.

     Those are all the senses, aren’t they? Sight, touch, hearing, and scent, right?

    … No, not right.

     There’s also taste.

     Although, you don’t exactly feel like drinking chlorine water to satisfy that sense and decide to skip that one all together. Later though, maybe you would sneak a quick snack as you go back up to your room. Yeah, that would be nice!

     All the same, you open your eyes again and smile to yourself as you dive back into the blue depth. You stay a bit longer in the sublime waters, simply swimming about and such, before you head back over to the steps and walk out- without the water as a heater- your skin begins to develop goosebumps and you shiver at the change in temperature. Another wonderful realization hits you, you forgot to bring a towel. “Dammit,” you mumble, a pout now residing on your lips. Your eyes scan the area and see a small bin, praying that there will be a fluffy towel waiting for you.

      Luckily, there is! Well, kind of. It’s not exactly fluffy or in anyway comfortable, but, it works and that’s all that matters. You attempt to dry off and once the majority of water droplets have disappeared, you wrap the towel around yourself and walk back into the quiet house, locking the door behind you.

     You peak over the couch and notice Tyler is still, indeed, passed out on the couch. Although, he seems to have developed a light snore while you were away as if the scene wasn’t cute enough already. You find it adorable how he’s such a gentle giant, even if he seems a bit stoic at times. Nonetheless, you wish him an almost silent ‘sweet dreams’ as you walk pass him and up the stairs.

     But, you stop midway, hearing soft steps on the carpet in the hallway. Your calm attitude shifts into one of a Knight’s: defensive and resolute. Despite the pounding of your heart, you proceed with caution- ready to take action against the beast, if that is who the unknown suspect is. Albeit, if it’s anyone that’s a possible threat, you have no problem solving that problem swiftly and justly.

     For beautiful and soft creatures like Dream Makers, the idea of a warrior doesn’t exactly line up with the stereotypical Dream Maker. However, due to ‘descents’ or fighting another supernatural being that’s a threat to one’s Dreamer usually calling for action- they can be a force to be reckoned with; especially if their Dreamers are involved. And with Mark’s room only feet away, your protective instincts are kicking in majorly.

     You make your steps light as a feather as to go unnoticed, continuing up the stairs cautiously and pausing as you meet the top. You wait and listen for more, your fists clenching as you feel the tension rise with whatever is around the bend- maybe they heard you , and as you wait, they sit and await your movements so they can attack. Or, maybe they’re creeping slowly, ever so slowly to mute their steps and then surprise you when they turn the corner. You weren’t sure and these nagging thoughts didn’t help you focus; instead, they cause your heart to pace faster than before and you become worried that whatever lies out there can hear the beating of your heart as well. The thump, thump, thump in your chest that doesn’t seem like it will cease anytime soon.

     And when all your paranoia seems to take over your mind- you hear their steps again and it relaxes you, easing you back into the protector status you had before.

     It’s a gentle pat, a pause… another pat, another pause… another pat… and an even gentler drum of fingers, or what you hope is fingers, against the wall that sounds far too close for comfort.

     You prepare to attack as the shadow of a figure then passes in front of you and towards your door frame. Rising up the final step, you stand behind the silhouette in the pitch black darkness of the hallway and watch it carefully as it appears to inspect your door- it’s hesitant.

     It raises a hand to the door knob, grips the silver knob and starts to turn it.

    It's looking for you.

    Instantly, you reach out and grab the hand, pulling it back and easily throwing them to the ground with both adrenaline and magic running wild through your veins to give you much more strength and energy than you regularly have. Before the creature can even attempt to get up, you raise a foot and are about to slam it down onto their mid-section to make sure they couldn’t get up, ready to fight against whatever this beast throws at you.

     Only, you aren’t prepared for what happens next.

     As you’re about to continue your attack, you hear it groan in pain as it lies on the floor and that ever so familiar deep octave seems to deliver it- causing you to stall.

     Panic floods over your entire being as the worst possibility plays out, but no, no, Mark’s asleep isn’t he? And with the protection spell, there’s no reason for him to be up! He should be sound asleep in his room- under the covers and probably cuddling up to that sweet golden dog of his, that’s where Mark is. Mark is lost in a wonderful dream land this is simply a trick from the beast to-

     “Shit, that fucking hurts... Wait, (Y/n) is… is that you..?”

     Fuck.

     Fuckity, fuck, fuck.

     You are a great protector.

     The.

     Best.

     Ever.

      Congrats!

      In a panic, all your smooth movements become stumbled and you almost trip as you walk past Mark and to the lights, switching them on and regret and guilt soon jumps into this mess of emotion you’re experiencing. You quickly rush over to the fallen Mark, who tries to sit up, and bite your lip as you try to help him up, apologizing profusely as you do so. Though no matter how many times you say it, you feel as though it will never be enough.

     “Again, Mark, I am so so sorry! I can’t believe I did that! How bad does it hurt? I can help! Oh my goodness, I’m sorry, what’s wrong with me? Mark, are you alright?” The questions pour from your mouth quicker than he can answer them and finally, he holds a hand up, motioning for you to be silent for a second.

     “Just… what the Hell happened first of all?” He asks, luckily, he didn’t sound angry! Or at least you think he didn’t… Averting your eyes, you sigh and give him a partial truth.

     “I kind of thought you were an intruder… So, I wanted to stop them…But, well... Obviously, I was wrong.”

     Mark stays quiet for a moment and you brew in anxiety until he replies, yet- a sigh falls from his lips before he does so, “It doesn’t hurt that bad… Though, I would love it if you could get some ice for me.”

      “Of course! Anything to make it up!” You nod eagerly, finally meeting those darling brown orbs- they cause another guilty pang to resonate in your heart, for a moment, the idea of simply coming clean and telling him everything seems like it would make this just. Wouldn’t it?

     Maybe…

     Either way, you offer the ravenette a sheepish grin, “Wait in your room, alright? And I’ll grab some ibuprofen just in case, sound good?”

    “Sounds good, chickadee,” A gruff chuckle follows and brightens your smile- has he already forgiven you? If so, then you couldn’t be more thankful for such a forgiving Dreamer. With one last shared glance, you head back downstairs as Mark heads to his room.

     For how great this night was going, this accident definitely put a damper on things.

Chapter Text

     The bed sinks under Mark’s weight, the man laying back onto the cozy surface that brings him comfort after the painful blunder the two of you had found yourself in. Not that Mark doesn’t think you're strong or anything, he just didn’t exactly expect that you could toss him on the floor as easily as you flip pancakes- it was scarily flawless how smoothly you executed such a move. To be frank, he is astonished by how simply he can become a ragdoll under your hands. And if anything, Mark thought in contrast as to what recently happened, he believed he would end up being the strong, protector in the relationship with his most marvelous ‘gun show’ resting on his arms. Although, Mark is impressed nonetheless. Mildly terrified of making you angry now, but impressed!

     Hell, even though the ravenette would never admit it… It may or may not turn him on ever so slightly.

     The idea of being with a woman who is gentle and yet powerful to the point she can kick your ass at any moment? It’s both arousing and scary- maybe comparable to an adrenaline rush and he would be lying if he says his mind didn’t wander down a path it maybe wasn’t supposed to.

     But again, he would never admit that.

     As you are getting ice; however, Mark couldn’t help but curiously follow the direction that his mind is wandering further down; passionate exchanges of heated, possibly sloppy kisses that could travel about the body and leave their mark- like an alluring trail that beckons one to follow its path and continue on even after it ends. Or your half-lidded eyes gazing into his own with that fiery desire burning in them like nothing he’s ever seen before and makes it impossible for him to tear his eyes from you for even a millimeter of a second as if you disappear once again, as if missing a single detail of your body and those illuminating eyes would be a sin. And while he already knows that your kisses are sweet; he could only imagine how intoxicating your lips would become and how he would become drunk off their splendid taste, it’s divine just how perfectly they melt with his. How on earth could he possibly let them be for even a moment?

     He sighs blissfully, it’s been far too long since he’s gotten drunk from your captivating kisses- and while it may be due to the sleep invading his mind- Mark wishes to at least indulge a little bit in this scene he’s made up in that head of his. Where he can imagine both his and your breathing is progressively getting heavier and heavier, and he can feel your fingers tug on his hair to pull him closer- as well as allowing yourself to keep some control over him in this heated endeavour.

     Albeit, his face erupts into a red storm the moment he hears the real you enter the room with ice in hand.

     “So, what part hurts the most, Mark?” Your angelic voice is laced with concern in comparison to the one he’s thought up and that immediately ceases to exist the second you walk in. The mental play goes up in flames and leaves only ashes in its place as Mark sits up, a nervous chuckle on his lips, and averts his eyes from your worried eyes- hoping and praying that you can’t read minds.

     Otherwise, he would be utterly screwed.

     “I, uh, I guess my head? T-The back of it, that is, where I fell on it, y’know?” He rambles, fumbling about and cursing the words as they slide off his tongue. Could he not be any more suspicious currently? Actually, a fluffy, angry looking cat on his lap would probably do the trick.

     Either way, the ravenette tries to gain his composure back as you seat yourself beside him, placing the towel-wrapped and ice-filled bag against the back of his head.

     “Better?” You ask, and Mark nods a bit too quickly, grabbing the bag himself and holding it. Allowing your mildly frozen hands a break as he does his job for you, only, for Mark it’s so that he can distance you from him even if it’s just a little bit, so those teasing thoughts won’t infect his mind and lead him to making a fool of himself in front of you.

     “Will be,” He chuckles, the corner of his lips turning up to give you a lopsided smile and he mentally thanked his past self for not turning on his bedroom light. While the light from the hallway may trail in and provide just enough light, it allows a sheet of darkness as cover for his ever burning cheeks to calm down without your noticing- which he prefers. A heavy breath leaves his lungs and as he glances over at your form, Mark comes to the realization that oddly enough you hadn’t replied yet and finally moves his eyes to try and find yours.

     His brows scrunch up as he studies your expression, confused at the unexpected sullen visage. Chocolate eyes try to connect with yours but they seem lost as your gaze rests on the floor, Mark bites his lip and comes to the only conclusion that makes sense in his mind: you still feel guilty for practically kicking his ass. A soft laugh echoes in the quiet room and like he plans, catches your curious attention, “You know I’m not mad at you, right?”

     He watches as the ghost of a smile tugs on your lips and you nod, eyes returning to the floor, “I’m aware.”

     It gives him a brief moment of relief but seeing as how you continue to have this lost and guilty aura hang onto you like a scared child, Mark begins to think that there may be more to this than he thought. He tries to pull you out of this trance by taking one of your hands in his and for the brief second you may have planned to look over, Mark holds your glance and you can’t bring yourself to tear away from those warm eyes that have concern and adoration swirling in them- making you feel even worse for now worrying this poor boy.

     “C’mon, chickadee, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

      Your hair sways to the left and to the right with your answer, “Nothing of importance, Mark.”

      Your words remind him of when he first met you, formal and polite, as if you were talking to him like he is Royalty- or at least someone of higher status. At times, he still finds it cute as it still lingers with your proper lingo being dropped into conversation every now and again, it’s quirky and he adores it.

     But, in this moment, it just feels like you’re speaking as if you are lower than him, as if your thoughts don’t matter like his do. And Mark doesn’t like that. It makes the distance between you two seem far greater than it really is and it breaks his heart; your problems are his problems and they didn’t need to be shrugged off like they are ‘nothing of importance’ because anything that causes you pain is of importance. Anything that makes you smile is of importance. Anything that makes you you is of great importance.

     “You wouldn’t be zoning out like you are if it was nothing, (Y/n),” He points out, the playfulness in his voice absent and a serious tone seems to have replaced it- whether it’s done on purpose or not, his voice drops an octave as his soft words greet your ears- “Please, I want to be here for you.”


 

     How could such a person be filled with the amount kindness that Mark has? His words melt your heart, yet you only raise his worries while making yourself worry as you realize just how much you would lose if you actually told him the truth. What would he even do? Would he toss you out thinking you’re insane or be fascinated with this new world?

     The fact that you have no idea is what scares you the most. It makes your heart race and your mind drown itself in anxiety and self-doubt as you struggle to stay alive and look for the light within the barren black place in your mind that seems void of even a twinkle or a glimmer of light, the darkness enveloping your heart and makes your body feel heavy as if you could just sink into the earth. Your whole existence is because of Mark- you were brought to life because of this bright new soul and if you end up being so completely rejected by him, it would break you. A Dreamer that detests his Dream Maker? Maybe this is the real reason why a Dream Maker shouldn’t meet their Dreamer… The possibilities of disappointment and heartbreak.

     But- then again, Mark is, well, he’s your adorkable Dreamer whose joy is only matched by his golden retriever’s own puppy happiness.

     “Chickadee?” You hear him ask and you come out of your thoughts, your expression softens and you offer the ravenette a genuine smile.

     “Are you still in pain, Mark?”

     “No, we’re not talking about-”

     “Mark,” your voice slightly stern as your brows raise and soon your voice becomes gentle once again, “Are you still in pain?”

     Seeing you’ve given him no choice, you watch the sigh leave his lips and he shrugs, Mark’s head swaying from side to side, “Just a bit, I guess my back is still sore. Why? You planning on escaping this conversation by getting me more ice?”

     It’s nice to hear his light laugh after the nerve wracking situation, you grin to yourself and soon shake your head as well to answer Mark’s question, “Not at all.” Taking advantage of Mark already clasping your hand, you concentrate and allow the energy to flow throughout your being and within seconds, a gentle pink hue begins to glow under your hand and travels onto Mark- it makes vines as it travels up and around his arm and onto his back with delicate twists and turns and spirals that help to light up the dim room.

     The moment you raise your eyes to look at your Dreamer’s expression, you feel the nerves begin to nag and bite at you again; his eyes are wide and brows furrow as they become puzzled over this mysterious pink vine of light crawling up and along his skin and what it might exactly be. His brown eyes didn’t pay any attention to you; unsure if he’s made the connection yet, you watch him study and analyze this bizarre happening- even peaking under his shirt to see if it’s wrapped around his torso yet: it has.

     His muscles stretch on his back as he moves and you can tell that he’s at least realized that this magical plant-esque light is healing him fully and, if one may add, is doing a much better job than any ice in a bag. A far better job than that simple remedy, as not even ten seconds later, the pink light begins to fade into the darkness around it- which cause Mark to have a small freak out again. Finally, despite still being absolutely stunned and bemused, he looks over to you completely awe struck and uncertain if all that really just happened.

     You smile sheepishly and shrug, “I thought that would be a better way to make you feel better, Markimoo.” Although your words are calm, on the inside you can feel your heart clench in your chest all while pounding, beating against your rib cage and your head begins to ache with a stinging sensation that you’ve never felt before, it’s the anxiety flowing through the soul manifesting into actual physical pain that surges about your body.

     This moment is a make or break one, and so much of your life, your heart, is resting upon it.

     His eyes blink as he tries to fathom the answer to your ‘cure’ and can’t exactly form proper sentences, but they still try to come out and end up rolling off his tongue as a disorganized mess, “You- You and.. The light was… T-The pink vines and- and you… am I… Are you..? I… It was swirling and it.. It healed me? Is this-”

     Unbeknownst to you, Mark’s goal of not making a fool of himself had just crumbled into pieces.

     Deciding to help the poor, confused soul out of its possibly never ending cycle of fumbling with his words, you take a deep breath and nod as you interrupt the ravenette, “The light magic healed you, Mark. The swirls and such was the energy searching for the place that you were injured- which is why it shined the brightest on your back: it was healing you.”

     His big brown eyes stare into yours, utterly lost, as he tries to comprehend the entire meaning of what you just said. After a worrisome moment of silence from him, he swallows and runs a hand through the black locks atop his head, “I’m dreaming, aren’t I?”

     A giggle bubbles out and you shake your head, a fond smile gracing your lips, “No, no, Mark. This is all really happening- there aren’t any illusions, you aren’t going crazy, nor are you dreaming. I’m just… Well, I have magical abilities to say the least.”

     You can tell from his expression that he’s skeptical and with good reason to be, you don’t exactly encounter many people who have magical abilities in real life as a Dreamer- there’s possibly a few they encounter, but typically ones with magic usually keep that stuff hidden.

     You know, what you should be doing.

     But instead, the guilt hanging onto your heart and the desire to just be honest with the one man in the world who you literally have a celestial bond with is way too strong to resist anymore- besides, it may end up working in your benefit to protect Mark if he actually knows the battle he’s been fighting.

     “But… How?” And like a crack in a dam spreads, it spreads making its damage like a spider web and eventually causes the dam to crumble, the water behind it flooding and pouring out into the land before it. Mark’s hammering of questions soon remind of such, “Does that mean you’re a wizard, or something? Or wait, are you human? What are you? You didn’t sell your soul, did you? Is that why you have magic? Are-”

      “Mark-”

      “-You alive? You’re not a magical ghost, right? Of course not, that’d be ridiculous- but then again, so are pink light up vines and-”

     “ Mark -”

     “So maybe you are a magical ghost? Or just, something dead and magical? Is-”

     “ Mark!”   You yell, trying to put a stop to river of questions. Thankfully, it’s successful and all that is left now is a slightly scared Mark, whose eyes shine with both awe and confusion, you hold up your hands in a surrender and feel the sigh leave your lips. “Mark,” you repeat again, your eyes gentle but serious as they look into his pools of chocolate, “I… In short, I am what one could say is a celestial being, I believe that the realm- per se- that I come from is one intertwined with yours, as you can see.”

     Your sweet laughter echoes in the previously silent air and hopefully sets Mark at ease as you find yourself twiddling your thumbs, “Mark, I am a Dream Maker, or at least that’s what we’ve been called in the past. There aren’t many modern depictions of us and so we still use that term we’ve been given so long ago… Albeit, the Latins originally called us the Auctor Somnium- ‘Author of Dreams’ If I remember correctly, they’re one of the first to recognize us as a separate being that’s unrelated to their Gods. And we… Well, we do exactly what you imagine- we make dreams.” The short explanation you gave left out the one major detail that he should know, but, you figure you should at least check in with his thought process before you open that file.

     His brows furrow and he leans back onto the bed, eyes staring up at the ceiling thoughtfully- you suppose that it’s good he hasn’t freaked out and called the police on you; otherwise that would be truly unfortunate, wouldn’t it? You nervously chew your bottom lip and await his answer to all this newfound information and you pray that by some miracle, Mark accepts who you really are and cares for you all the same.

     “So, you… You make dreams?” He asks, just wanting to make sure he’s understanding it all.

     “Exactly, that’s my purpose in life. Or well, it’s my main purpose in life- everything else that happens is in one way or another related to dreams.”

     “Then this is a dream?”

     You shake your head as a smile tugs on your lips, “No, I’m only here because of dream-related issues, Mark.”

     “Huh,” he pauses and as the idea stirs in his mind, finally and truly sinking in on the fact that the woman he’s been head over heals with is actually a magical, celestial being who makes dreams. In some way, Mark can’t help but wonder if this means he’s in love with an alien. And without thinking, the question slips from his lips, “Are you an alien, then?”

     “No!.. Or, maybe? I’m not quite sure myself,” You laugh and ponder that question yourself, are you? You’re technically not not an alien- only, you’re from a separate plain rather than planet. Does that still count? Possibly.

     Soon, you hear Mark’s booming laughter follow your own and you feel relief wash over your soul, now feeling light as a feather without any worries to concern yourself with. If he’s laughing, that surely means he’s happy! And if he’s happy, well, that must mean he at least doesn’t mind the truth and that’s why out of all the times that you’ve heard Mark laugh, this time, his laugh sounds sweeter than anything you’ve ever heard.

     “Holy shit, (Y/n)! Y’know, I thought maybe there would still be some mysteries to solve about you but the idea that you are a celestial being was something I never expected. Chickadee, I’m not sure if it’s because it’s 3am and I’m finding out you’re an actual dream weaver, but that is… It’s amazing! What’s it like where you come from?”

     You raise a hand and run it through his messy puff of raven hair, “It’s beautiful… I wish you could see it one day, though I’m afraid that’s impossible…” You sigh and offer him a warm smile as you press a kiss to his forehead, “Tomorrow night we can discuss more; however, you should probably save the rest of the night for sleep, dear.”

     “What? No, no, please, c’mon chickadee, just tell me about it now!” He pleads like a hopeful puppy and you can’t help but laugh, shaking your head all the same.

     “Nope! You need to sleep, Mark, it won’t do you any good to stay up all night and having you be exhausted by morning light, now would it?”

     “When it comes to you, yes!”

     You let out another laugh and roll your eyes playfully, “Mark, no,” You stand up and ruffle his hair again, “I’ll be returning to my room now, okay?”

     He bites his lip and the words he tries to hold back, the desire to ask but a mere question seems too tempting, “One more thing then! Just one more question- that’s all.”

     With a content sigh, you nod and motion for the lovable dork to ask his fated question.

     “Can I have a goodnight kiss..?” Mark inquires with a sheepish grin crossing his cheeks and if it isn’t for the darkness that shrouds the room you would see the bashful blush that rests there too.

     You shake your head at his adorable request and lean down, pressing a chaste kiss to those delightful lips and linger a bit longer than you thought you would and as you pull away, you rest your forehead on his, “Now sleep, okay?”

     “Anything for you, chickadee,” He breathes out, eyes finally opening again to look into yours, “anything for you.”

Chapter Text

 

     Shifting under the covers as you come to, a gentle hum vibrates on your lip and you can feel the sun shining on your skin, enticing you to leave and step into the day with grace. Albeit, with your slightly clumsy tendencies, you highly doubt you’d start as gracefully as the light wishes you to. You stretch and yawn as you typically do and as your eyes start to slowly wake and your ears start to listen to the world around you- you realize a greater reason as to why you’ve woken up when you did.

     There’s a light, rhythmic tapping on your wooden door and a soft voice calling your name from the other side, you recognize it to be Mark’s and you begin to have a thought that you never imagined would cross your mind. Can’t he just leave you alone for another five minutes? This bed is a cozy haven that you’d rather not part with just yet! Nevertheless the fact that you can feel your energy isn’t completely recharged- it’s a miracle the ravenette even managed to wake you up. But then again, it may be due to your astral bond with the boy and that despite your instincts, his calls can bring you into consciousness once more.

     You only wish that they wouldn’t currently.

     The only other thing you think you could wish for would be the power to ignore him- even if only for a few more minutes. Yet, his pleas become more prevalent and start to get louder with each passing second and you can’t help but wonder why he’s so determined to get you up. With a loud groan leaving your lungs, you sit up and wrap yourself in this comfy comforter and go to answer the door, twisting the knob and opening it to reveal a wide awake and energetic Mark, “Everything okay, Markimoo?”

     “Huh? Oh, yeah! Course! Everything is fine,” He assures, his body bouncing with excitement as he prepares to explain his reason for waking you up, which better be a good one, “I wanted to see if you wanted to go on a run with me! Wouldn’t that be fun?”

     His reason, at least from your perspective, was not a good one.

     You blink and laugh lightly with a shake of your head, “Mark, what time is it?” While not exactly finding the idea all that appealing, the ravenette’s energy causes a smile to curl up on your lips, not believing that despite staying up so late in the morning, he’s still able to wake up early and with enough energy to want to go on a run. This man will never fail to surprise you.

     “It’s about a quarter past seven-”

     “Seven?! Mark, we stayed up til three in the morning, you only got four hours of sleep, why are you awake? Better yet, why do you want to run?”

     “It’s my routine, no matter what. And, I would love it if you joined me,” His big brown eyes stare into yours like a sweet, hopeful puppy dog who wants you to throw him a bone. The soft smile etched into his expression furthering his adorable pleading look that he knows tugs on your heartstrings and as you’re just about to accept this defeat, a thought pops into your mind that works as a savior against this exhausting fate all while not directly rejecting his offer.

     “You know, I would really love to join you, Markimoo, but…” You trail off with a sigh, “I don’t have any exercise clothes or even real running shoes like you have. It’s not good to run without those things, right?” You pray that your limited knowledge on this matter will suffice and convince your dear Dreamer otherwise on the idea of your company on his run.

     A pout settles on Mark’s lips as he ponders over the fact you’ve brought up, and in your defense, you are fairly right. Making you run while not providing you with proper equipment seems unfair and he realizes that.

     So, he’ll settle for walking today!

     “That’s fine, we can just walk my route- any clothes you have will be fine for that. Although, remind me to take you out sometime and we’ll buy you running gear, okay? Hell, if you like it, I can start taking you to the rock walls too! Would you like that?” Mark asks, already excited for your future workout plans with him, it’s something he always loves to do and to have you join him, well, it would really make him happy.

     Either way, you are a tad hesitant to accept his offer, knowing how intense he could be with workouts, but all the same you give a nod, not wanting to disappoint his sweet soul, “I think I would,” you pause and offer him a curious gaze, “Until then, though, what time are we going to walk?”

     He tilts his head, side to side and pursing his lips in thought, “Can you be ready in five?”

     Nodding slowly, you grin towards the ravenette, “Yeah, I’ll meet you downstairs?”

     “Sounds perfect!”

     You choose a light gray top along with a pair of shorts and socks, heading out your room and down the stairs you meet up with the far more experienced runner who dons a grin to greet you, “You ready?”

     You give a chuckle and nod, “I think so, how long is the walk?” It couldn’t be that long, could it? Possibly a few blocks and maybe a mile at most, though you doubt it could be anything more.

     “My route is usually five miles,” Mark laughs as soon as he watches your eyes widen, soon adding onto his comment to ease your nerves, “ But, we can go as far as you want and then head back, sound good?”

     “Sounds better than five, that’s for sure.”

     “Later, you’ll run the whole five with me.”

     You shake your head, hair swaying with your choice as you join in his laughter “I’m not too sure about that, Markimoo.”

     “Don’t worry, I’ll prepare you for it, chickadee!” The ravenette winks playfully as you groan.

     “Not what I meant, Mark.”

     He chuckles and begins to walk towards the front door, “But it’s what I mean, jelly bean!”

     “Jelly bean?” You laugh at the new nickname and follow Mark, once at the front, both of you lace on your shoes and he opens the door, allowing you to get out and breath in the morning air with him soon behind you.

     “Yeah, jelly bean! It rhymed, plus, I can’t always call you chickadee.”

     “Then you can just say my name, you goofball,” You point out, hands on hips as you raise a playful brow at him.

     “True,” He purses his lips before a smirk soon slides onto them, “Well, anyway, (Y/n), since you don’t seem keen on exercising, I’ll give you some initiative. If you beat me to… That tree,” Mark raises his hand and points out a tree that’s about twenty feet out, “I will make you breakfast for a change, how about that?” He proposes, his hand now ready to shake as he places it in front of you, and despite the fact that you know he’ll probably win, you decide to indulge him in this endeavor.

     “You have a deal, my dear!”

     “Great! Then let’s go!” Mark quickly shakes your hand and then continues to dash off to the tree all while leaving you in a bewildered daze.

      “Shouldn’t you have like, counted, or something?!” You yell, realizing you needed to start running if you even wanted a chance to win, albeit, in your defense you could simply win on the grounds that he cheated, “This is kind of unfair, Mark!”

      “Never said it wouldn't be!” His laugh trails behind him and in some way, Mark’s mockery does encourage you and fill you with motivation to show him that you could in fact beat him- whether you are truly sure about that or not.

      You begin to run, legs making as large of strides as they could as you do so, heart beating in your chest and the adrenaline pulsing through your veins- the endorphins blinding any pain that you will most likely feel later. There’s a lack of wind but that doesn’t mean you aren’t able to cool off, instead, you cut through the air and create your own wind current- albeit, the faster you go, the harder it is to breath and the harder it becomes to continue. How on earth could Mark enjoy this? On a daily basis nonetheless, it’s insane!

       While you wish you could say you won, after looking at your feet running along the path and bringing your head back up, you see an overly smug Mark leaning against the base of the tree and without thinking about it, an exasperated sigh mixes into your heavy breathing, “You cheated, Mark!”

     “I said ‘let’s go’, it’s your fault you didn’t go, chickadee!” Mark quips, a smirk playing on his lips and your brows scrunch together with a hint of frustration.

     “That doesn’t count! A countdown or something would’ve been better,” You explain as you arrive at the tree, and once you finally catch up with Mark, the pain and loss of air finally catches up with you as you try to soothe both.

     He shrugs, himself being perfectly fine and seeming as though the run didn’t bother him one bit, “Maybe, but it wouldn’t have been as fun,” Mark teases, throwing an arm around you and pulling you close to him, his smirk transforming into a charming smile, “I can still make breakfast though, you do make it enough already.”

     Leaning into his sweaty but loving touch, you chuckle- or at least try to as you continue panting- and return his smile, “Well, thank you, Mark… I appreciate that!”

      The ravenette plants a kiss on top of your head and sighs, chewing on his lower lip, “Can we talk about last night?”

      And with that question, the air seems to clear as you realize the real reason he wanted to bring you out here. A walk offers solitude for the two of you and as long as you didn’t run into any other joggers, you could talk in peace and privacy. While you weren’t expecting to talk about it again so soon, you give him a quick ‘yes’ and await his response.

     “It all… really happened right?”

     “You already asked that, Mark,” You laugh and he joins in as he nods his head.

     “I know, I know. I just can’t believe it, I guess,” He admits, when you look up to meet his eyes you notice they’re looking out straight ahead of him, lost in the world around the two of you. You watch the rise and fall of his chest and after a moment, he finally starts to continue, “The more I thought about it though, it made a lot more sense,” Mark chuckles and casts his gaze back to you, “it’s why you left last time, right? Why no matter what, you couldn’t stay, that you had to leave- you were going back to your world?”

     You nod, guilty eyes now leaving his and looking to the ground, “I could only stay for twenty moons- well, nights, that’s why I had to leave at night. I couldn’t stay another day, or even an hour after the moon left. I have little control over it and- believe it or not, being sent here was my punishment.”

     “Punishment?”

     “If a Dream Maker ends up creating a nightmare, they are punished and sent to the world of Dreamers and are stripped of the majority of their powers. Albeit, the younger you are, the lighter your punishment due to your lack of experience. But, because I’m older and have a lot more experience, my punishment was harsher,” You explain with a shrug, it’s a fair policy by nature- a bit annoying, but fair.

     Mark hums in thought and you watch as the gears turn in his mind, brows knit together as he formulates his response, “Is that why you’re here now?”

     This will definitely lead down a path you aren’t sure Mark, or even yourself, is ready for yet.

     Thinking over your choices, you remember that you’re trying to be honest with him and sigh, knowing you’d have to give him the truth. Maybe not all of it just yet, but you don’t mind opening the curtains just a bit more.

     You give him a gentle squeeze and allow a sigh to escape you, “No. I’m here because something else is causing nightmares and I’m here to-”

      “Wait, there’s something else that can cause nightmares?”

      “There are plenty of reasons for nightmares, Mark. It’s not always at the fault of your Dream Maker- a Dreamer’s emotions in of itself can cause nightmares. This creature I’m after; however, is much worse than such a simple reason as that,” You detail, the heaviness of the situation weighing on your heart, “I need to stop him before he does any further harm.”

     You can feel Mark’s thumb gently rub circles into your arm and while Mark isn’t sure himself if he should ask the question on his tongue, he does so anyway, “Is this creature in my house?” When you don’t meet his gaze, Mark sighs and stops walking in place, his free hand reaching over to you and taking your chin in his hand, making you meet his gaze, “(Y/n), I’ve been having… nightmares. If this thing is the reason why, I want you to tell me that.”

     Humming in both frustration and thought, you bite your tongue and finally look into those big doe brown eyes of his, “Is it. It’s latched itself onto you, Mark, and it won’t stop harassing you until two things happen- number one and the one I think we both would prefer, I put an end to it by any means necessary. Number two, it… it takes you over, the more it takes from you,  the more powerful it gets.”

    He runs a hand through his black locks as a heavy breath passes his lips, the information shaking his brain a bit the more he thinks about it, “What do you mean, take me over?”

     You kick the dust on pavement and turn to look in his eyes, your lips curling up into a soft smile, hoping to ease whatever nerves he has, “You don’t need to worry about that, Mark, because it won’t happen. I won’t let it. You’re…” You trail of, mentally debating about whether or not to tell him the truth of your relationship with him.

     “I’m… I’m what?” He asks, tan hands beckoning you to continue with what you were saying.

     After taking a deep breath and grab his hands and hold them in your own, “You’re my Dreamer, Markimoo. Which, by default, makes me your Dream Maker.”

     You watch his brows furrow, head adorably tilting as he lets your words sink in, “So… So, you make my dreams?”

     “And yours alone, whether you remember them all or not, I make them. The majority, at least. As I said, sometimes your emotions take control and Dream Makers simply allow for those to play out. But the point is, you are my Dreamer, Mark,” Your admit gingerly, all while holding the serious tone in your voice, “I will never let that beast hurt you again, from the moment I arrived, I’ve tried to minimize his effect. Albeit, that sometimes left you without any dreams- it offers protection, just takes away your dreams so that it doesn’t even have a chance to warp them.”

      A bright smile slowly creeps its way onto his lips and before you know it, you’re enveloped in his tight embrace and soon lifted off the ground, gasping, you tighten your grip around the ravenette as a stream of giggles begin to flow from your lips. Although, you are a bit confused by this action- you at least know that, like before, Mark’s happy. Ergo, he must be pretty ecstatic to hear that your his Dream Maker! Or, that’s what you’re hoping to be the source of happiness. He sets you down, hands still lingering on your waist, “That’s so cool! You’re so cool! How does that work? How do you make my dreams? Have you always made them or were you assigned to me at some point- wait , are you my age or are you like a hundred years old?”

      “I’m exactly your age, Mark, right down to the seconds,” You chime a playful smirk gracing your lips, “Don’t worry, you haven’t been snuggling up to some thousand year old magical being- we’re not vampires, after all.”

     “True, true,” Mark chuckles and envelopes you in another hug, feeling as though he could never hug you enough, “Although I have been snuggling with some magical being that controls my dreams.” In all fairness, the ravenette does have a bit of a point.

     You chuckle and tilt your head from side to side, “Yeah… That I can’t really combat with. But hey,” you back away slightly, still staying in his grasp as you look up at him with a cheeky smirk paired with a wink, “You are literally my dream guy, Markimoo!”

     He groans and shakes his head, failing at trying to hold back his own laughter, “And you’re back at it with the bad pickup lines, huh?”

     “Hey! You are the one that started this, mister!” You laugh, accusatorily poking him in the chest, pretending to be frustrated despite your joyful visage, “You and your whole cornfield stalking line, Mark-”

     “It’s your favorite! You even said so,” He refutes with a raised brow as you shake your head before resting it against his chest.

     “It’s still weird as Hell.”

     “Just like you, but, hey- I still like you a lot!” Smooth, Mark. Smooth.

     You burst into laughter, slightly bewildered by his response and escape his grasp, following your escape with a playful whack to the arm, “You are an asshole, Mark!”

     “And proudly!”

     To any of the cars that may pass the two of you by, you may look like crazy, laughing lunatics without any direction. Two grown adults babbling about all while laughing- certainly a sight to see.

     However, once the laughter finally dies down and the two of you actually start to walk again, you lean back into his touch as his arm finds it way back onto waist. Mark exhales and feels the energy finally starting cool off, his warm chocolate orbs look down into your own as he starts again, “This is probably the most fun I’ve had on a walk, (Y/n).”

      “Good, albeit, I don’t think we’ve really done that much walking, Mark. I can still see the house,” You point out with a soft giggle.

     Mark chuckles and looks back, noticing that you are, indeed, correct, “Huh, you’re right. Well, still! I’m really happy you came with me- even though you weren’t happy about it.”

     “I wasn’t upset about it-” You pause as you watch him raise an inquisitive brow and you laugh, nodding, “Okay, maybe I wasn’t the most excited about this, but I’m happy I came too.”

     “Plus, you can now have ole Chef Markimoo cook you breakfast!”

     “Oh, that’s right! What will you be making for me, monsieur?” You tease, having it be your turn to raise a brow at him.

     “How do you like the sound of French toast?”

     “I love it!”

     “Then it shall be done, mademoiselle,” his voice changing into a horrible French accent that invites another laugh or two from you.

      “Merci, Mark,” You give a content sigh and stop in place, “Well, how about we just head back then and get breakfast started?”

      The soon-to-be chef smiles brightly at the idea, “Let’s do it! Although, one more small thing.”

     “And what would that be?”

      “We’re racing, chickadee!” And with one final wink, he dashes off again, leaving you in the dust.

     Groaning, you shake your head in defeat and head back to the house- still walking. If you are going to lose, you’re going to lose on your own terms and you really don’t feel like running again. Yet, you still can’t help but smile as you watch him run back to the house. You may not start accompanying him on his daily jog or rock climbing- but a nice walk with him every once in awhile would actually be nice.

     And besides, even if he can beat you in a race- you made it clear you could kick his ass just as easily.

Chapter Text

      The hot coffee in your mug warms your hands as you sit atop of the island, eyes watching Mark with adoration as he gracefully cooks you breakfast; you aren’t sure if you have rose-tinted glasses on or if it’s simply the ravenette, but he even looks so dashing as a chef. Is there any time that this man doesn’t look just unbelievably handsome?

     Is that even possible?

     He hums an unknown melody that sways your heart and tempts your body with an urge to dance and spin, with only his voice and no other music playing as the two of you sway. A blissful sigh passes your lips and you’re soon to take a drink of the caffeinated beverage after- the hot liquid sliding down your throat and warming you to the cool. Not that you really need it, the Californian sun is sure to heat up this city with you in it. You think yourself lucky to have gone on the run before it got too hot, otherwise you would have been doubly exhausted.

     Mark allows the pancakes to sit for a moment and returns to you, his hands resting at your sides on the counter; cornering you in the least threatening way possible. He also never seems to lose that puppy dog like vibe- possibly because he has Chica, yet you can imagine he’s had it even before his playful golden pup came into his life. “I’m guessing we probably shouldn’t be talking magic if Tyler could wake up at any moment, right?” His question is emphasized with a raise of his dark eyebrow and sly smile becoming on his impish expression.

     Smiling behind your mug, a light giggle escapes you, “I think that would be best, Mark. Though who knows,” you pause, eyes drifting to the left as a teasing quip follows, “if I need someone tall to help me fight that jerk, I might have to tell him too.”

     His expression falls as he stares up at you- restraining the desperate curl of his lips at your clever jest at his height, Mark’s brown orbs roll and he crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Ha, ha, ha. Very funny. Cause as you know, I’m only like four feet tall, chickadee.”

     You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, “I’m sorry, Markimoo! Don’t be upset,” you playful pout but fail as you continue to drown in the hilarity of your stupid and silly joke, “C’mon, you have to admit- it was kind of funny.” In a light-hearted manner, you poke this grumpy gamer with your foot; you don’t feel like taking your hands away from the warm hug that is your coffee cup.

     “Watch your step, babe, you may have magic- but I have the money to get slushies,” Mark points out, mischief written all over his features and you come to the realization that this man knows all your weaknesses by now- cute dogs, slushees, and himself.

     “You wouldn’t dare take away my slushies.”

     “Are you sure about that?”

     Reading the emotion swimming in those pools of his, you sigh and shake your head, amused by his annoyance- whether real or fake, “Fine, no more height jokes, sweetie.”

     “Thank you,” He finishes this odd offended act with a bow and a jesting wink in your direction, “Well, anyway, since I’m impatient and I know Tyler- we have,” Turning to look at the clock, Mark smiles and continues cooking, “another hour give or take, I feel like talking about that creature you mentioned. What do they look like?”

     “You’ve probably seen him in your nightmares- and yes, I know for a fact it’s a guy. But, either way, he has these… golden eyes, though sometimes they can appear more brown, as well. His body is typically formless and dark; albeit, when him and I fight he’ll take a more solid form and like those eyes, he becomes this array of golden hues,” You shrug and take another sip from the brew, “I believe you Dreamers have a name for him… Although, as you can tell from I’ve told you, he’s not at all what you guys say he is.”

      “Wait- I thought you said there weren’t many depictions of Dream Makers and that stuff?” He asks, sparring an over the shoulder glance at you.

     You nod, with a positive hum affirming his question, “That’s correct, there aren’t many stories of my people left over; however, he isn’t one of my people. He’s actually one of our biggest enemies, why Dreamers decided to remember him in this wholesome light is beyond me… So, can you guess who I’m up against?” The corner of you lip quirking up into a playful smirk, “I bet you won’t get it.”

     “Well, firstly, it’s who we’re up against-”

     “Debatable-”

     “Not really-” He raises a finger in the air to stop your further protest on the subject, “Secondly, please don’t tell me I’m fighting the Boogeyman.”

     “Who?”

     “The Boogeyman- y’know, hides under children’s bed, in this one movie he sings before he like eats them, or he’ll just spook them. He can also hide in closets, he’s the Boogeyman. There’s no real version of him? No supernatural explanation?” To be honest, out of all the mythical creatures that may reside alongside these ‘Dream Makers’, Mark assumes they would have an enemy like the child-scaring Boogeyman in their world- it would make perfect sense! While he continues cooking and awaiting your answer, there’s a short silence as you think over and despite him not being able to see, you shake your head.

     “I don’t believe so, Mark… There are little creatures known as Bog Wings but they’re relatively harmless, quite adorable, and just mischievous. Kind of like fairies but more sleep centered,” You explain, still pondering over your knowledge of creatures to see if you could find a better match, yet, you can’t find anything that suits this ‘Boogeyman’ than a Bog WIng, “Even then, it’s nothing scary. Like, they may take your socks off while you sleep or wake you up, revealing themselves, only to be silly and make you think it was all a dream. Not going to lie, they’re pretty funny at times with what they do!” Your melodic laugh echoes in the kitchen and causes Mark’s heart to swell with love, he always loves to hear you laugh.

     “Alright,” He chuckles and places the pancakes he was making onto a plate for you, handing them off with a bottle of maple syrup after he kindly butters them, “If it’s not the Boogeyman or these ‘Bog Wings’, what fairytale creature are we fighting?”

     “ I will be fighting what you Dreamers fondly refer to as ‘The Sandman’, that sleepy guy made of sand who puts sand in yours eyes to make you sleep and have sweet dreams- and may I just say, how on Earth do you guys think that sprinkling magical sand into your eyes will make you sleep well? It’s sand! Not like pixie dust or anything soft and gentle, you guys picked magical sand ? Really ? And Dreamers still think he’s a good guy! There are somethings I will never understand...”

     Mark watches as you shake your head, eyes drifting off into thought as he, himself, is beyond dumbfounded at this revelation. Perplexed, he blinks and fumbles on his words before slowly descending into laughter, “What has my life become..?”

     Tilting your head, you purse your lips and prepare to eat the first bite of this delicious breakfast- after of course you drizzle on some maple syrup, “What do you mean?”

     “I’m going to be fighting the Sandman with a celestial being that makes my dreams, the same celestial being that I’m also hopelessly in-” He stops himself, chuckling with an undertone of embarrassment as Mark does everything to avoid eye contact. Mark scratches his neck and turns back around in a not so casual manner that automatically sends of bells in your mind.

     “Hopelessly in what, Mark..?”

     “Oh you know, life and stuff,” He poorly dismisses, enticing your sweet laughter to flood pass your lips.

     “You know, you’re really weird at times,” You playfully tease, shaking your head as the oddity that is your Dreamer. He turns and gives you finger guns, paired with a cheeky wink that sends you into another wave of laughter.

     “You know it, chickadee!”

     


 

 

     The rest of the morning runs just as smoothly and peculiarly as the start of it had, the afternoon coming in the same manner as well. Albeit, far more lonesome on your part as the boys reside in their recording studio both editing and filming videos. Every now and again, you can hear their shenanigans from downstairs causing a smile to form on your expression.

     In the meantime; however, you and Chica rest on the couch watching whatever is on when you hear a random melody ring throughout the house. You’ve heard this before, haven’t you? As you ponder over this, you realize that, indeed, you have. It’s Mark’s phone! A mischievous smirk slides across your lips and you get up, giving the golden dog a sweet parting pat, and follow the music to the counter where the two of you- eventually three of you, had breakfast. Curiosity getting the best of you, you look to who’s calling and the moment you see their name- your eyes light up with joy!

     It’s Sean! Which also means you’ll probably get to talk to Signe, too!

     You tap the little green circle- that you hope answers the call- and hold the phone up to your ear. In an excited, joyful tone, you greet the Irishman, “Hello?”

     There’s a pause, the confused lad unsure of why Mark now sounded so feminine over the phone, but you can soon hear his soft laugh echo through the speaker, “Hey, girlie. May I ask who you are?”

     Oh, boo. You slightly hoped that he would recognize your voice- but, you suppose it has been quite a while since you’ve talked to him. Nonetheless, you still hope that he’ll at least remember who you are once you tell him, “It’s (Y/n), Sean. Do you-”

     “Well shit! Mark never told me you were back! How are you doin’? We’ve missed hearin’ from you- Signe, too!” His Irish accent emphasizes his excitement as always and you can’t help but giggle at his reaction. Plus, you can hear his dear Danish girlfriend ask what was going on in the background.

     “It’s (Y/n)!"

     The next thing you hear is a cheerful scream, then a thud, laughing, and finally a slightly out of breath Signe continues the conversation, “(Y/n) I’ve missed you! What all happened? Mark only told us that you had to leave for family and they were like weirdly strict and stuff?”

     You let out a nervous chuckle and nod, not that they could see that, “Just about- it’s complicated… But, I’m back! And I missed you too, Signe!”

     She giggles on the other side of the line and you can practically hear the smirk she’s wearing as she talks, “Well… How’s everything going on over there? Are you and Mark still a possibility?”

     “Always to the most important things, right, Signe?” You return with a light laugh of your own and you can hear that she shares in your moment.

     “Of course!”

     With a blissful sigh after the little laughing fit, you hear a gasp as a Danish accented voice rings out, “Oh! I forgot- we have great news, (Y/n)!”

      You raise a brow, now intrigued as to what this good news may be, “What is it?”

      She hums in thought, “Here, how about I let Sean and I tell you together?”

     “Ah, okay? Why not.”

     “Wonderful! One sec,” she pauses and after a bit of rustling, your hear two voices cheer out over the speaker with their splendid news.

      “We’re coming to L.A!”

     The smile that spreads across your lips could put the sun to shame with how bright it is- your eyes reflecting the same and if you could, you would reach through the telephone lines and envelope the two of them in a bear hug. This is absolutely wonderful! You’ll finally get to meet the cute couple soon and you couldn’t wait until then. “Seriously?! That’s awesome! When will you be here?”

     “In about a week- that’s actually why I was calling Mark up. We were discussing livin’ arrangements and all that boring stuff,” An Irish accent informs you with a light chuckle following after. It seems like all of you are excited to meet each other!

     “It’ll be like a really big sleepover for a few days- won’t that be fun?” His sweet girl asks, and you can only agree.

     “It will! And there’s so much to do too,” You sigh contently, already imagining all that awaits you during this little visit- albeit, you soon realize that they would coming during this peril that falls onto your shoulders to fix. If they are coming over and spending the nights here, the Indomicii- or ‘Mr. Sandman’- will feed off of their dreams too.

     Which means you will have a lot less time to defeat this beast before it becomes a more than one Dream Maker job.

     Or, in simpler terms, you seriously need to get this shit together soon.

     As your mind digresses from the conversational at this realization, the Irishman continues to babble on. It isn’t until your name is called repeatedly by both him and Signe that you flash back into reality, “Huh, yeah? Sorry, I kind of zoned out there.” You let out a sheepish laugh, pinching your nose at your little faux pas of moment.

     “I was sayin’: Mark, Tyler, Ethan, and I are going to do a bunch of videos together and we’ll have Signe joins us on some. So, Woosher and I were wondering if you would want to do a video with all of us?” He asks and you find yourself pulling at the hem of your shirt, head tilting from left to right as you ponder over his question.

     “Ah… Uh, I don’t know? Maybe…” You trail off, while you aren’t exactly sure of you reason for hesitation, you feel as though it just might not be… right? Is that how you feel? It just doesn’t seem like it would be your place to intrude on- this is Mark’s thing, not yours.

     “You sound worried… What dontcha like about that idea?”

     “Nothing, it’s just… Are you sure you’d want me in a video? I’ve never done one and I don’t exactly know how to act in front of one.”

     “You just be yourself! And of course we’d want you in one! Plus, it’ll give Signe a gal pal to pick on us lads with,” He chuckles and in some way, he does reassure you and a small smile works its way onto your lips.

     “I guess you’re right, Sean. I just might join in then!” Albeit, you still aren’t certain but Jack has definitely made you more open to the idea. And like he said, you’d enjoy playfully picking on the boys with your Danish sister.

     “Good!” Sean chimes and quickly adds on, “Oh snap, I’ve got to go, (Y/n), but tell Mark to call me asap, alright?”

     A sap? Like the sap that comes from trees? Odd request, but who are you to deny it?

     “Will do, Jackaboy!”

     “And you take care of yourself, missy! Woosher and I will probably talk to you later too, got it?”

     You giggle and shake your head as you answer, “I’ve got it, and you all do the same. Talk to you soon!"

     “See ya!” The two voices exclaim joyously before the call ends and you feel your heart bounce with happiness after talking to the adorable duo.

     You set the phone down and walk back over to the couch where a sleeping puppy lay, her golden locks spreading out and making her look like a big puppy pancake on the couch- you smile; your feet eventually lead you up to your room and you grab one of your ancient texts and bring it back downstairs. Sitting down on the throne like chair, you lean back and search the pages until you find the page you’re looking for and begin to read the chapter on ‘Mr. Sandman’ so you can look for things you may have missed that could lead to their defeat.

     If this battle is going to happen sooner than later, or even worse, if Mark’s problem ends up becoming everyone’s problem, you’re going to have to learn everything there is to this creature and that may actually lead you to making a short trip back home and asking elders who may have already fought these beasts. You hope it won’t lead to that as it can either be speedy as a cheetah, or slower than the wifi in a hotel- which Mark said can be rather terrible and irritating, so you assume it’s quite slow. Either way, you just wish that you’ll come up with a solution after digging through all your resources possible on this ‘Mr. Sandman’.

     Which, in your opinion, is still the weirdest name that Dreamers could have picked for such a terrifying creature. Nonetheless, how they manage to remember these jerks who try to hurt them and forget your existence- the ones who actually make dreams.

     If Mark wasn’t so cute, you might resent him for such an odd thing that his ancestors did but...

     Mark is very cute and he’s far too cute to be angry with because his ancestors are peculiar.

Chapter Text

 

      The night washes over the sky, making it anew as the stars speckle the dark and deep blue painting the atmosphere; it’s hypnotic and if one stares up at the starry abyss for far too long, they will surely lose themselves in the sight. Seems like a thousand pairs of eyes that look down upon the Dreamers with kind eyes as they gaze at their souls wandering the Earth without any idea of what is really out there- of how much bigger and magical their world actually is. It was never a simple black and white blueprint for this realm, instead, there are a wide variety of grays between the two extremes; to your beliefs, a Dream Maker lines up with one of those grays- of which one, you aren’t sure exactly. But, nonetheless, you relish the gray by releasing far more colors and pathways into the minds of Dream Makers- primarily Mark’s. Your spirit acts as a paintbrush that allows these creatures to express themselves and paint their perspective with new imagination and new colors that they add into their lives.

     Despite becoming intoxicated by the moon, your attention eventually returns to the intended point- that being the clean up of your ceremony to help protect your Dreamer from that Indomicii. While you would love if you could leave all of these miscellaneous and peculiar items to be scattered about the room and decorate the floor in an odd and random pattern- you cannot. The last time someone had gone near your room before your materials had been cleaned up, you ended up knocking Mark down onto the floor landing him in a startled and confused daze. You don’t feel like giving the poor lad another spook- at least, until this all blows over and the guilt no longer weighs on your heart.

     Your fingers slide across the smooth glass surface of a small transparent violet jar as you pick it up along with similar items beside it, smiling to yourself as a song buzzes on your lips. Gentle hums break the silence of the night and you can feel your heart lighten as words soon start up as well- a calm melody falling from your lips and hanging in the air like leaves gliding alongside the wind in autumn. Enjoying this quiet and blissful moment, you allow yourself to let your worries slide off your shoulders into nothingness and instead simply think towards your future rather than keeping your interest in that demon haunting your Dreamer; after calculating the possible methods to permanently eliminate his problem, you feel much better about the whole situation. If things are all as they seem, then you can rest easy knowing you at least have not only a Plan A, but a Plan B and C too.

     By now, you just pray that your books were correct.

     Once content with your now cleanly abode, you stretch and sigh before collapsing on the welcoming comforter of your bed. To say the least, you are happy to be in bed at this point. You move and make your way to shift under the sheets and snuggle up to the pillows that lay about the bed- with one more deep breath, the corners of your lips turn up into a delicate, sleepy smile and your eyes shut, the black shades sending you to a new place of relaxation as you allow yourself to slip under. Your body falls limp and melds into bed, absolutely adoring this mellow mood taking over your mind as you sink into your charging condition again. Breathing slows, you notice how the numbers of the rise and fall of your chest decrease, and it feels as though your heart has taken a sedative with how it seems to calm and barely beat at the rate it was going before. With one final deep breath, you sink into this empowering slumber that you hope will grant you all the energy you need to start taking down Mr. Sandman.

     After all, he is just as powerful as yourself-  if not more.


 

     Eyes shoot open; wide and bewildered as you instantly sit up in a start. Your chest feels tight and heavy, a constricting uneasiness attempts to squeeze the breath from your lungs while you look the room over in both confusion and concern- you may have no idea what caused the sudden awakening, but, you can only assume that it’s nothing good. You toss the comforter off your body and the frigid air sends chills running down your spine from the quick loss of warmth, albeit, your nerves seem to blur your senses and you hardly notice the temperature change- adrenaline kicks in as the tension in the air grows heavy and by now you’re anticipating that some sort of hellish creature will jump out and scare you without any regards.

     Although, that honestly isn’t all that bad considering what could happen.

     The souls of your feet meet the plush carpet beneath them and hesitantly continue onwards to the room of your lovely Dreamer, praying for his safety in the middle of the night. You don’t bother closing your door behind you and nor do you bother knocking on Mark’s door as you slowly open the door, both in fear of waking him up and possibly seeing an unfortunate turn of events. Your petrified heart feels like it’s beating a million beats per second all while feeling like a heavy stone that’s weighing your chest down, feet like lead as you make a cautious entrance into the room.

     An ominous aura hangs about in the air like a heavy fog in the early morning; instantly, you sense the maleficent shadow’s presence looming over your Dreamer, clinging onto his spirit like the parasite it is. A low growl vibrates on your lips and your eyes see red as you catch sight of the fear etched into Mark’s sleeping face as the Indomicii torments his subconscious; filling his mind with poisonous images that bleeds his heart and breaks his mind as each of its sadistic scenes play out in the poor ravenette’s head. Your fists clench without a second thought and your words cut through the silence, tongue sharp as a knife that you would love to plunge into that beast’s chest. The harsh incantation progressively grows louder as you get closer to ole Mr. Sandman, his ‘eyes’ may glow with such a gorgeous gold but yours burn with a dark red; hatred and hostility swirling dangerously in your orbs. You are ready to fight- you don’t know if you would win, but there is no way in Hell that you’d allow him to get away with this.

     Yet, before you could make any damning move, your eyes bore into one another’s and soon enough he disappeared into plume of black smoke- but not before those nefarious words of his had the chance to echo out into the room and harass your ears, “Better luck next time , dearie.

     Fervent fists swing to try and get in some sort of hit before he dissipated into the void only to come short, your chest rises and falls at an uneven, angry pace and you feel like a predator who has been cheated of a catch. Eyes shut tight and your jaw clenches as his words ring in your ears, haunting your mind; the words dripped like poison from his being, sending your heart and soul onto uncertain ground that could crumble at any moment- he came up to the plate to play, and this time, he got a home run.

     You weren’t sure what went wrong… The spell had been working all this time, why was he able to break it now? Or was he always able to break it and instead of showing his full power, he lulled you into a sense of false security to only make his victory even more sweet and your lose even more bitter… Whatever it may be, that bastard was successful in messing with your head; not only do you have to worry about ridding him from Mark’s mind permanently, but the nightly problem is now also something to worry about.

     Tension leaves your muscles and a heavy breath escapes your lungs, finger run through your messy locks in attempt to relieve the remaining stress. It’s only partially effective. A frown pulls on the corners of your lips and you plop down on the corner of Mark’s bed, both physically and mentally exhausted from the previous situation. After a few more deep breaths, you look over to the ravenette and can’t help but feel guilty for your failure. He stirs under the sheets and you hear a soft, frightened whimper leave him and making your heart break. You shift to move closer to his sleeping form and gently place a hand on his arm, gingerly trying to awake him, “Mark..? Wake up, sweetie… Are you alright?”

     While you had to combat the devilish Indomicii for hardly even a second, you couldn’t imagine what mental torture that beast forced onto Mark and for how long; if you weren’t trying to put on a comforting front for his sweet soul, anger would still be possessing your mind.

     It takes a moment, though he soon wakes up: sluggish and suspicious, his eyes scan just waiting to catch a glimpse of the demons that haunted his dreams. But instead, you make sure that he finds your warm eyes amidst the darkness and like you hoped, he seems to relax. A light smile spreads across your lips and even though he doesn’t return it, Mark sits up and hugs you lightly, his head resting in the crook of your neck as you stroke his hair hoping to soothe his mind. Sweet, soft words leave your lips in a hushed tone that works to reassure him, “You’re safe, Mark. You’re safe, I’m right here…”

     He silently resides in your embrace, but you feel his body relax which gives you hope and once deciding it would be okay, you pull away ever so slightly- your eyes finding his once again, “You alright..?”

     You search his eyes for an answer and as a sigh passes his lips, Mark nods, “Yeah… I’m just…”

     “Spooked?”

     “Yeah…”

     Pondering over the ideas in your head, you offer a small smile and your eyes reflect the love in your actions, “You can stay in my room for the rest of the night- if that makes you feel better, of course.” You laugh sheepishly, praying that he would accept your offer; it would be the best way for you to protect him and watch over him. And any Indomicii would think twice about latching onto a Dreamer while they’re quite literally in their Dream Maker’s arms, it would just be stupid to do so.

     Mark reflects your smile, sending a love struck arrow through your heart, it may not be the right moment for such thoughts- but, it isn’t your fault that he looks so cute when sleepy. Oh goodness… He really does have a grip on you by now, doesn’t he? With a slow nod of the head, he gives you the answer you were hoping for, “I like that idea… So that was-?”

     “Yes, that was the Sandman messing with your dear mind… I’m sorry. Ever since I got here, I was able to keep him at bay- I… I don’t know what happened, all I know is that something didn’t feel right. When I came into check on you, he was already there.”

     He chews his bottom lip, chocolate hues casting down and his arm raises up to scratch the back of his neck, “Chickadee, you know how I’ve been curious about, well, all of this?”

      Your brows furrow but you nod nonetheless, simply giving an affirmative hum in response.

     With a heavy breath, his eyes connect with yours again with a look that’s almost desperate, “Can we just be… normal , tonight? I don’t want to talk about it anymore… Tonight, at least. It was a lot... and I don’t want to think about it for now.”

     Those words twist your heart and a painful, guilty pang resonates in it, you know you didn’t drag him into this mes yet you can’t help but feel responsible. You’re his guardian, you were supposed to protect and instead you let him get tormented by that bastard. Mark deserves a break, he deserves to be oblivious to such matters. Although, you are happy you could be honest with him- and if he wishes for a break, then he shall receive one. A bittersweet smile slides across your lips and you nod, “I think that’s a good idea.”

     The two of you move to get up and you keep him grounded by holding his hand as you go to your room, the little journey is silent and the second he passes through the door, you turn and gently close it behind him. You turn on the bedside lamp that provides the calm, orange glow you adore so much and as you settle up on your bed and under the covers, Mark soon follows and rests his head on your chest and arms around your waist- a position that you would typically take but this time, you are more than happy to be his teddy bear.

     Your fingers soon find themselves lost in his charcoal locks as he listens to your steady heart, the comforter atop you two relaying the warmth between you two. You close your eyes and you believe he does the same, sweet silence following that puts both of your hearts at rest. You’re almost positive the light helps; its comforting presence challenges the monster that he sees in the dark. It keeps that ghost of a smile on his lips and a beckoning request blossoms in his mind and in his groggy, tired voice, he asks the most sweetest question, “Can you sing me a lullaby?”

     A joyous giggle fills the air and you lean down to press a kiss to the top of his head, “I would love nothing less, Mark. I’m not exactly sure if I’m the best-”

     “You could sound like a dying walrus and I would still find it angelic, babe.” He chuckles, glancing up at your from the corner of his eyes, a playful smirk now tugging on the corner of his previous smile.

     “ Sure , whatever you say, honey,” You roll your eyes playful, but decide to fulfill his request all the same, “Any special requests?”

     “Honestly,” He pauses, the air leaving his lungs, “anything that gets my mind off that thing would be perfect.”

     Humming, you tilt your head from side to side, mentally shifting through your files on lullabies and whichever would be best for your sleepy Markimoo. Albeit, one sticks out despite a little dilemma with your pick, “Do you mind if it talks about the sea?”

     He groans teasingly and huffs, “Fine, I guess so…” And whether the guilt of pretending to be angry consumes his heart or Mark’s far too tired to realize you understand that he was playing, like the dork he is, sweetly adds on, “I’m just kidding, by the way, I don’t mind at all…”

     “You’re adorable, you know that?” You inquire with a chuckle of your own, “Either way, I hope you like it.”

     Mark patiently awaits as he curiously thinks over what your singing voice would be- and he wasn’t lying about how he would hear it. It could quite possibly be the worse thing ever and it would sound like a miraculous symphony to his ears because all he would be able to hear is the darling sincerity and love that lingers in your melody. Or, it could be amazing and he would hear it like the angels were singing themselves. Mark’s just happy you’re going to sing to him; in the position you two are in now, he couldn’t think of a better time to do it. The mere thought calms his nerves so easily, the effect he has on you, unbeknownst to him, is the same effect you have on him.

     So, it’s when that first note passes by your lips that his heart melts and he feels himself sink into your touch even more than before, listening to you with a dopey smile spread from ear to ear.

 

Hush now my Storeen

Close your eyes and sleep
Waltzing the waves
Diving the deep
Stars are shining bright
The wind is on the rise
Whispering words of long lost lullabies

 

      Your own smile grows as you reach the chorus, the harmony playing in your mind.


Oh won't you come with me
Where the moon is made of gold
And in the morning sun
We'll be sailing

Oh won't you come with me
Where the ocean meets the sky
And as the clouds roll by
We'll sing the song of the sea

 

     Mark’s breathing steadies and he curls up closer to you, if that’s even possible- simply enjoying your singing and the relaxing feeling of your fingers in his hair.

 

And heard the sweetest sound
I saw a great white light and dancers in the round
Castles in the sand
Cradles in the trees
Don't cry, I'll see you by and by

 

     By this time, you’re almost certain that you’ve successfully lulled your Dreamer back into his peaceful slumber, and can’t help but to finish off the serene song.

 

Oh won't you come with me
Where the moon is made of gold
And in the morning sun
We'll be sailing
Oh won't you come with me
Where the ocean meets the sky
And as the clouds roll by
We'll sing the song of the sea
Rolling...
Rolling...
Rolling...
Rolling

 

      You hum ever so quietly as you feel your own mind begin to be tempted at the idea of continuing your charging period and instead of fighting, you give in. Mark is snuggled up to you and after all that’s happened in such a short amount of time, you’re glad you can let go again- if only for a few more hours.

 

Chapter Text

    The sleepy male stirs all while tightening his grip on his warm and soft pillow, refusing to fully get up just yet. For the first time in a while, his state of slumber left him with a feeling of peace and relaxation in his chest- void of the dark, harsh emotions that would linger in his mind after a nightmare or the hollow indifferent feeling of waking up when his nightly state of unconscious had neither dreams nor nightmares; it was only a blank, black world that made the night pass by quickly although still being able to give him the proper rest he needed for the day. But last night… despite the rough beginning, he was blessed with heavenly images that contained silly and loving moments with his precious savior of the night, his darling Dream Maker, his girl.

     A smile splits across his expression, closing his eyes and allowing himself to replay the parts of his dream that he could remember; an enchanting and endearing dance scene with you. It wasn’t anything too extravagant, a simple slow dance amongst the clouds and a desire to recreate that moment buries itself in his heart. Mark can feel his heart swell with anticipation at the mere thought and feels the heat rise to his cheeks at his cheesy romantic wish- but what can he say? The idea warms his heart and the longer he thinks about it, the bigger his smile becomes. With a blissful sigh, the ravenette opens his chocolate eyes once again and casts a gentle gaze to your still sleeping visage.

     Even with your hair strewn about from sleeping and looking less than ready for the day, you manage to make this goofball come undone.

     An audible ‘awe’ slips from his lips and his eyes widen, hoping he doesn’t ruin this darling moment by awakening his sleeping beauty; unbeknownst to him, it will take much more than a simple ‘awe’ to wake up a Dream Maker in the middle of recharging- there are only a few things that can do that and unless Mark decides to suddenly scream, you wouldn’t be waking up if it isn’t due to your own accord.

     Relieved to see that you don’t react to the little sound, Mark hums in delight and begins to wonder if he should selfishly stay in bed with you or leave and get his day back on track, since he’s assuming he overslept which sets things off just a tad. He chews his bottom lip, God, he doesn’t want to leave your embrace, leave you, it’s such a wonderful and relaxing feeling to be held by you and he doesn’t want to bring himself out of it…

     But, being the workaholic he is, Mark knows if he stays any longer he’ll become antsy with his lack of progress. So, sighing to himself the ravenette begrudgingly pries himself from your warm embrace and almost instantly misses your warmth that he was so happily wrapped in. A frown tugs at the corner of his lips but is soon overshadowed by a soft smile as he watches you curl up under the covers, missing his warmth just as much as he missed yours. Without thinking, Mark leans down and presses a delicate kiss to your temple, his fingers combing through your hair gingerly as to not startle your sleeping state. After one last longing glance, he turns to leave the room and his feet trail down the stairs into the open floor plan living room and kitchen, seeing Tyler already on the couch munching on a piece of toast.

     “Wow,” He hears the brunette breathes out, with a hint of surprise and smugness to his voice, “How did I wake up before the diligent Mark Fischbach?”

     Said Fischbach, rolls his eyes- albeit it’s empty of any ill will and instead a playful smirk spreads on his lips, “Actually, I woke up at normal time but I was too busy cuddling (Y/n) that I couldn’t bring myself to leave her. But, my tummy growled,” he pats his stomach, despite his words being false, “so, I finally had to leave my precious chickadee to feed this monster- speaking of, you fed Chica?”

     “And walked her.” Tyler chuckles and offers his friend a sly smirk, “So… you two were cuddling this morning?”

     Quite proud and quite oblivious to his friend’s scheming, Mark nods curtly, “We were. Even when she’s sleeping, she’s so cute…” He sighs wistfully, the image appearing in his mind once again; Mark certainly wouldn’t mind waking up to you everyday, if anything, it could start his day off with a smile.

     “And you were sharing a bed?”

     “... Yes? That’s kind of needed for cuddling?”

     With what Tyler says next, the blatant smug and teasing tone laces his voice and Mark finally realizes how much his friend wants to torture him, “ So you slept together, huh?

     Of course, Tyler knows this wasn’t true as 1) he probably would have heard and 2) both of you dorks were too busy being cheesy and silly to so suddenly become intimate. And seeing as Mark chokes on air from the question and harshly coughing, Tyler is sent into hysterical laughter at the result of his successful tease.

     Should he be worried?

     Nah, he’ll be fine.

     “NO!” Mark sternly protests once he finally finds his voice, eyes wide as he looks at his friend who is currently drowning in his own laughter- it’s almost contagious enough to make the ravenette start to laugh himself. He waves his hands for extra emphasis, trying to shake the notion away as he can feel his cheeks flush, radiating heat that could challenge the sun, “No, no, no, we fell asleep together but we didn’t… sleep … together,” Despite how crude his humor can be at times, Mark can’t help but become flustered at the idea to the point where his voice lowers an octave as he talked like it was some secret.

     To say the least, Tyler found the situation hilarious.

     “You’re so easy to tease sometimes, Mark,” Tyler chuckles, his laughter finally calming down as he shakes his head. The two love to mess with one another and with your new presence, Tyler received even more ammo to tease and annoy his friend who’s in absolute puppy love with you- Tyler even finds it cute, sometimes a bit much, but he’s happy that his friend found someone as kind and caring as you are, not to mention that the two of you draw in the competition of who’s the bigger dork. He may not have known you long, but Tyler really is glad that you’re in Mark’s life.

     A loud groan brings him back from his thoughts as his baby blues catch sight of an annoyed Mark, sending him into another, yet smaller, fit of laughter.

     “I just wanted to come down and have a nice breakfast!”

     “Too late for that now!”

     “I know,” Mark huffs, arms crossing over his chest and a pretend pout making its way onto his lips, “Screw it, I’m still gonna have a nice breakfast, I’m just going to ignore your dumbass.” He says with more sass than needed, leading the brunette to shake his head at his friend’s odd antics and methods of revenge.

     “Whatever you say...” Tyler trails off; even with his back towards him, Mark can tell he’s wearing his smug smirk again and while Mark opens his mouth to say something, Tyler cuts him off before he can do so, “Just remember to mark my victory on the scoreboard!” The ‘scoreboard’ being the imaginary record of the two’s ‘battles’ and who’s come out on top each time. It’s nothing real nor nothing that really holds much weight, yet it can rile the boys up at times.

     This is one of those times.

     And without thinking, a devious smirk slides onto Mark's expression as he opens up the fridge, “Well you know… Unlike you, if I really wanted to, I have the option to do that .” He quips, feeling quite proud of himself since it seems as though his friend is lost at words for a comeback.

     However, Mark is about to soon find out the real reason as to why Tyler has gone silent.

     The moment he shuts the fridge door, he catches sight of a very curious and still sleepy you and freezes; praying that you didn’t hear-

     “Option to do what, Markimoo?” A yawn follows your innocent question that has a less than innocent answer. The ravenette stammers and casts a glance to Tyler, seeking help, yet is only met with the sight of a silently laughing mess who offers no aid whatsoever.

     Tyler is really not being the best of friends this morning.

     Mark rubs the back of his neck as you approach, reaching around him and opening the door once again to take out the orange juice. You patiently await an answer; you honestly thought it would be quick and you could slide yourself into their conversation with ease but with Mark’s odd, buffering state, you slightly regret asking the question now.

     Although… seriously? Out of all the times you had to come down, you come down when he said that? There couldn’t have been a better time for you to wake up. With a sheepish chuckle, Mark shrugs and a slanted smile splits his lips, “Y’know, just, to make breakfast is all.”

     He locks his lovely brown eyes with yours, hoping it would help distract your mind and not really allow you to sink into whatever that phrase may have meant.

     God, Mark really hopes you believe him- not matter how silly it may seem.

      Sadly, you do not believe him.

     Everything from his half-assed excuse to the suspicious tone of his voice screams that whatever they were talking about, was not simply making breakfast. Tyler’s laughing fit does nothing to convince you of Mark’s reasoning either. All the same, you decide to drop it seeing as the boys can be more than weird at times and this may very well be one of those times when they’re just being weird for the sake of being weird. Shaking your head, a feathery laugh escapes your lips and you place a hand on Mark’s shoulder, “Highly doubt that, but- it’s too early in the morning to care. So instead of asking more about whatever that is, what do you guys have planned for the day?”

     The now calmed down Tyler, apart from the occasional breathless chuckle, offers a gleeful grin as he answers, “The typical- plus Ethan should come over to hang out later. Care to join us?”

     With a nod, your lips curl up into a warm smile, “Love to! And you, Mark?”

     “Proving just how much of a workaholic I can be,” the ravenette laughs lightly before turning his head to you, giving you his full attention, “But for you, I can make room if you have something in mind.”

     Your smile only seems to grow with his sentiment and you can’t help but plant a swift kiss onto his cheek, “Not currently, but I’ll keep you updated, sweetheart,” you shoot him a cheeky wink with a few giggles escaping past your lips, “Thanks for the offer though.”

     A giant goofy grin spreads across his expression, unable to do anything else but melt under your loving gaze, “Always, chickadee.”

     A loud groan meets your ears and your gaze snaps away from Mark and lands on the brunette on the couch, “Stop being cute, you two. I’ll be going up soon so save it for when I leave.” The two of you laugh at Tyler’s request and after a shared glance with your dear Dreamer, mischievous smirks replace the smiles that were previously held on your lips; a plan had just been formulated.

     “Oh (Y/n)! My snoopy boopy kins! Do you think we should dial it back for ol’ Tyly Whiley? Though I’m not sure I could! You’re just so cute!” Mark cooes, leaning into you as you both cheesily rub your noses together truly acting like the giant dorks you are.

     “Aw, you’re the cute one, Markimoo! I can’t help but want to hug and kiss you whenever I see that adorable face of yours!” You chime in that sickeningly sweet tone as you begin to pepper Mark’s face with quick kisses that elicit a cheerful laugh from the male before you and another groan from the one out of sight.

     “Ha. Ha. Very funny, I’m going to the office, you love sick dorks,” Tyler playfully jests, getting up and making his way up the stairs and into the office. Once he disappeared, Mark and yourself laugh as you fall into each other’s embrace, thoroughly proud that your plan worked.

     “Good job, babe,” You can feel the rumbling in his chest as he laughs or talks, you smile up at him- he returns with both an adoring gaze and a smile, “Cutie pie.”

     “Buttercup,” Your darling voice rings out after a moment, Mark saw how the gears in your head turned to find a new ‘cute’ nickname for him. His expression softened further at the effort you put into such a small thing.

     “Buttercup….” He lets the name linger on his tongue, slowly nodding in appreciation, “Not my favorite- but I like it.”

     “Good,” You sigh happily and turn so you’re directly in front of him and wrap your arms around his neck, concern and hope starting to stir about in those intoxicating eyes of yours that meet with his, “So… are you feeling better after you-know-what?”

     Nodding, Mark smiles to assure you of your worries as his hands find their way to your waist, “Much; after you came and got me and I fell back asleep, I think I had some of the best sleep in a while. I can’t remember it all, but I know there was even a dream, so thank you.”

     While you would like to try and hide your confusion, your brows furrow unconsciously and by then you realize there’s no point in hiding it; you hum and your fingers mindlessly play with the strands of raven hair, “There must be a subconscious or hidden factor at work…” you mutter to yourself before shifting your eyes back up to his own loving brown ones, “I won’t lie, Mark, it’s a bit peculiar that you had a dream, but I have no doubt it was due to something I did- I just can’t think of what,” you reason, a gentle laugh flowing from you as you talk.

     “Well, either way, I think we should do that more often. Both for protection and… ‘cause it was nice.”

     “It was, wasn’t it?”

     “Definitely,” The two of you share a serene silence, simply enjoying the other’s presence. Mark hesitantly leans down and meets your lips with his own; it's both soft and exciting somehow. To say the least, you found the kiss to be far too short, instantly missing the sensation as soon as he pulled away.

     Albeit, what he says next makes up for it ten-fold.

     “If you want, around lunch time I can take you out and we can get icees?”

      He really is the perfect man.  


Chapter Text

Hey, I am very sorry this is not an update since I know one is a bit overdue.. Even with me taking a vacation that has since then, ended. I am not going to make any excuses as I know I should've been writing more and my schedule isn't too hard to work around either. The inspiration just hasn't been there. I'm not sure if it's a type of writer's block or whatever, but I'm slowly coming out of it and hopefully I'll be able to post a chapter this weekend- again, I am really sorry and I feel like crap because you guys don't deserve this and I've always tried to stick to my schedule. I'm letting you guys down and myself down. But, I promise, I'll be back and hopefully with a bang! I love this story and it means a lot to me so I want to make it the best I can. I'm not sure what else to say other than thank you all, again- without you guys, I never would've continued this story after the prologue of SDMD. So... thank you and I'll try to be better for you all :) 

Chapter Text


      Silent steps carry themselves up the marble stairs that make your bare feet warm upon contact. The only light that helps to guide you is the sun peeking in through the arched windows every now and again. Brief moments when you pass by and take in the entrancing landscape almost manage to steal your attention; keeping you behind the window, able to look outside but never actually be able to enjoy this world thoroughly despite her calls to you. So instead, you continue forward and follow your curiosity as it leads you up the stairs to who-knows-where.

      A gentle melody catches your attention, fueling your desire to reach the top of this ever-spiraling staircase. Though as you ascend, you realize that you cannot quite remember ever entering this tower, nevertheless walking up to where you are now. It’s odd. You may not have the best of memories, but this is most definitely something that would be so easy to remember. You aren’t sure you even know where you are- which makes this familiar and peaceful wind that blows so considerately gentle a tad bit suspicious.

      The only place that can soothe your soul so sweetly is your realm of Dream Makers, amongst the clouds and friendly faces; a place that is truly your home. This marble tower is far more earthly than your world and yet, it feels so blatantly obvious that you aren’t on Earth.

      Where are you?

      You instinctively wish to trust this place- and in some way, you allow yourself to do so. But the weary feeling that’s growing in the pit of your stomach keeps you from getting too comfortable as you get closer and closer to the top of the stairs. The soft symphony you now recognize as Clair de Lune by Debussy; the melody is easy to fall into, giving in and letting the serenity that surrounds each note take its effect, putting your mind at ease with its heavenly harmony.

      The music that manages to send your nerves on vacation, makes each step you take lighter as a subconscious smile spreads across your cheeks in appreciation. Its tune dancing in your ears, feet following it up the stairs- almost in time with the pressing of piano keys by whatever lies ahead, creating the melody. That is to say, if there even is a source, albeit, with how it continues to get louder the farther you go, you suspect that there is a definite source to this symphony.

      The moment you arrive at the last step, you feel that there is something dubious about this most magnificent place. You cannot place it, but in the back of your mind you know that something is heinous is amongst all this beauty; a devious nightshade hidden inside a basket of darling blueberries. With caution, you enter the new room and leave the supposed safety of the stairs to be out in the open and allow yourself to be vulnerable in the ginormous bedroom before you. The marble upon the steps continue into the room, only now in intricate tiles on the floor and as the pillars that line the room, the pale stone makes the room appear much longer than it may actually be. But with how it opens up the area, you can’t say you plan on complaining anytime soon. The building itself holds no ill will, but something from within wishes to cause only pain to those it deems worthy of its punishments.

      And while you believe to be in the presence of such a being, you presume that it issues no problems your way- there is no point for it too and there is no reason for you to fret over a matter so trivial. As your eyes grace the room, you spot more and more details about this rather open room you find yourself in.

      Though not on every pillar, there seems to be a few with suspicious vines that will eventually take over and mark the structure green- despite being a pleasant accent of color across the white canvas in the present. The ivy breaks it up and adds to the regal, yet ancient aura within the room, reminding you of how would imagine the ancient Greek or Roman temples would look when they were in their prime. Beautiful and powerful, enchanting and intimidating- a building that demands respect and admiration because it truly does deserve it.

      A hint of a breeze curls your hair as it blows through your locks, the sound of fabric rustling in the wind catches your eye next as you finally see that you’re in the gown that you wore so casually at home. White as clouds then progressively changing into a brilliant blue that matches the sky beyond those windows that allowed you to notice this wardrobe choice, to begin with. But, was this really your choice? For the life of you, you can’t remember how you had come to be here in the first place, nonetheless what you chose to wear here.

      Confusion etched into your expression as you finally start to realize the depth of the situation, your lack of control, and at an utter loss as to what’s going on around you- brewing in your own thoughts as you stand atop a tower in a place that you can’t name.

      It isn’t until a flash of gold crosses your line of sight, urging your mind to call attention to its presence, which it does. Although, the small speck of gold spins and like a tornado; the small speck of gold gathers other golden specks like itself and swirls with the wind at a speed so fast you can hardly figure out what’s happening before you recognize that a familiar figure is standing in front of you, their eyes piercing and sending you into defense mode.

      His skin is the color of the desert; tan, with golden undertones, it also looks as though it could seep through your hand if you were to reach out to him- acting like what his name foretells. Albeit, his robe is a much better giveaway to his identity, appearing to be a waterfall of sand that cascades down his shoulders, onto his back, and meeting its end at his feet. The robe drapes over his being like golden curtains that hang elegantly in a mansion with beautiful rope accents that loosely sit on his waist.

      As your eyes travel up his tall stature, they meet his obsidian orbs; they contrast so greatly everything in this room- where everything invokes curiosity while those black irises could make someone cower in fear so easily. You; however, are not average and it will take much more than a mere set of dark eyes to send a shiver down your spine- they may make you cautious, but that isn’t anything new when it comes to him. You even notice that hint of a smirk the moment you made eye contact, for which, you decide to ignore in this moment. Instead, you move on and take note of his long streamline blonde hair, two strands in front his ear are neatly set atop his robe while the rest lays upon the robe and on his back, stopping a little bit past where his shoulder blades would end.

      When you return you gaze back to his own, you could see that he had been sizing you up just as much as you’ve done to him. Yet, his smirk only spreads- giving you an eerie feeling already as to what he’s up to.

      “Glad you could join me,” His feet carry him closer to you and while you would much prefer to keep your distance with him, you stand your ground.

      “This wasn’t my choice. Where am I?” Best to get straight to the point, after all.

      “Where are you? My home, of course. Or, one of many, at least. I thought we should talk.”

      “And what could we possibly talk about?”

      “Mark.”

      You roll your eyes and scoff at his boldness, “You must be kidding, am I right? I am not discussing that safety of my dreamer with you.”

      “And here I thought Dream Makers weren’t supposed to meet their Dreamers?”

      Your mouth zips shut, a heavy and resigned sigh falling from your lips. He is right after all. Yet, you can get him on a technicality, “We aren’t supposed to go searching for them- meeting Mark was a coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less- we’re friends by fate, not action.”

      He hums, the next words sending a jolt of anger through your veins, “Are you sure about that? You certainly act like more than friends, chickadee.”

     Fists clench and you have to bite your cheek in an effort to attack him while in his element, despite every fiber of your being wanting to, quite frankly, punch him into next week for using such a lovely word on you, making it ruined ever so slightly. “To the point?”

      “You’ve done your research, you know that I wish to control his mind until he can no longer sleep without giving in- but, I can't-do that with you in the picture,” He raises his hand to stop you from adding on, “But I know I can’t exactly kill you either. Instead, I want a deal that this fighting will end and in turn, we share him.”

      “Share him? Why the Hell would I agree to share my Dreamer with such a vile creature as yourself?!”

      “Language- and because it would give you an excuse to see him. It kills you when you’re apart and Mark, being the simple man he is, is devastated at the thought of you leaving again. You two crave each other; it’s why Dreamers and Dream Makers aren’t supposed to meet, the natural connection can be too much. So, I’ll work some of my magic and work as a constant threat to your ‘sweetheart’ so that you won’t ever have to leave him. In return, the days before you come back, I can twist his little mind as I so please and-”

      “No! No- I can’t agree to that- that’s insane and selfish! Mark’s safety is my priority, you talk of Dream Makers so much that you should know that.”

      “I do. But keep this in mind, when we fight, there will be one victor. The loser may end up in Zarihna, should that be you-”

      “It won’t.”

      “It might. Then Mark will no longer have your protection and that bond of yours… Even if you are to win, I know you wouldn’t cast a nightmare just to see him temporarily. But, if I were still a threat and still manage to control him, the big boss man might let you live down here with him. The visits are no longer temporary and Mark could build that life with you that you know he wants; my deal is giving you and Mark prolonged happiness at the cost of a few sleepless nights… You have to admit that it doesn’t sound bad.”

      You hate that. You hate this plan and you hate this monster standing before you, but most of all, you hate that you can’t say he’s wrong. In a small, selfish way, you can’t help but consider his deal. Both sides would benefit greatly, yet each pays a giant price. But… If he ends up defeating you and damning you to Zarihna; a plane of existence in which one is enveloped into nothingness, rendering them helpless and hopeless with very little chance to escape, then you wouldn’t be able to ever see Mark again… Even your memories of being with him will be eaten away in Zarihna, only your feeling of longing and lost love will be evident, at which you can already feeling your heart clench at the idea. Zarihna is worse than any Hell because there is nothing, no punishment, no reward, no direction, and slowly, your entire being is soon nothing and you are but a shell of who you used to be. It takes your freedom and corrupts your mind by simply being a place of nothing.

      But still, you couldn’t possibly agree to such a deal, could you? For Mark, anything is worth the risk, even Zarihna, but…

      No. You will prevail and this deal will not be necessary because you will prevail.

      “No deal, I don’t need it, Mark and I-”

      “Stop.”

      “Stop? No! Why would I stop? I don’t care if you think that-”

      “I said ‘stop’.” The rise of his finger shuts you up and somehow takes your voice, leaving you mute in trying to protest his actions, “You have… Three days? Make your decision by then- from there on out, we will either discuss terms or a time and place. Now, I have places to be and plans to make, think about the deal. Okay?”

      Before you could react, a sudden sandstorm sweeps the room and you have to close your eyes, coughing, desperate to shield yourself from this storm of his. Although, you can’t even feel a tiny dot of sand hit you and instead, the moment you wake up, the sun is glaring into your eyes and make you close them once more.

      “What… just happened..?”

      “Hey, are you okay? You spaced out for five minutes, you haven’t even touched your slushee. I tried getting your attention but… nothing worked,” Mark’s voice is laced with concern as his sweet, big, brown eyes gaze into your own- searching for any tell of what might’ve occurred.

      “I… Uh, yeah. We… we got slushees?” You ask, eyes wandering from his and finding that indeed, you had gotten a slushee with yours on the side table of the couch, you lean back into the plush furniture, “Right, I’m sorry… I can’t remember doing that for some reason.”

      Mark shifts in his, trying to be closer to you lost and dazed self, “Chickadee, is everything alright?”

      Chickadee…

      You shiver at the memory but nod, all the same, not wanting to worry the lad, “I’m fine, Mark, I guess I just got lost in my thoughts is all.”

      He looks a bit skeptical, a sigh leaving his lips and he looks around for a brief moment, making sure Tyler is nowhere to be found before whispering, “Was it some sort of Dream Maker state or problem like that?”

      “Kind of? But not exactly either. Mark, you… you know I care about you, right?”

      “Of course I do, what kind of question is that? Are you okay? Are we in danger from something other than the Sandman?”

      “No, I’m just, worried about what’s to come, I guess,” Your typical cheerful tone is all deflated suddenly; void of joy and spirit, Mark’s heart can’t help but break as he watches the feeling of despair take hold of you. So, he decides he’ll also take hold of you.

      Without any warning, he takes you into his arms and presses a chaste kiss to your temple, hands gently tracing shapes into your back to help relax your nerves and bring you back to peace, “Don’t be. We’re in this together, and as cheesy as it may sound, as long as we’re doing this together, we’ll win. It could be against anyone in anything and we would win because we totally kickass together,” his lighthearted chuckle ringing in your ears, “And you know what? When it comes to Mr. Sandman, we’ll put him to bed this time and give him spooky dreams, right, baby?”

      And just like always, Mark manages to bring you back your smile and your hope so easily. He is the reason you’re laughing at such a silly remark and why you lean into his touch whenever possible.

      He’s the reason that you don’t ever want to leave his side- the reason you’re having dangerous thoughts.