epiphany

or i'm done sparing people

you know, i've just noticed this is my diary and as one i should NOT worry about what i write in here, because, duh! this is my diary! and feeling bad because i don't have anything interesting to say/i don't contribute much to fandom/fic/pics/whatever shouldn't be something i care about, because this is mine and if i can't say things in here, then where can i?

so, um, yeah.

i've been thinking about this dream i had last week. remember the asshole i wrote a story for? yeah, well, i dreamed of him. i was pride doesn't matter. you need info and he's the only one likely to know what the hell are those thing and how to kill them before they kill you.

so, screwing pride, i went to him and asked. and of course, he was an asshole about it.

"i know what they are, but i won't tell you" he smirked and i flushed with shame and embarrassment (because of course there where people around and of course they would laugh at me), i was gonna walk away, but i watched how those marionettes-come-to-life where there and i must say i was afraid of them.

i don't remember how it came to be, but suddenly he was there, androgynous body and all. there's an ethereal quality around him, mysterious and suave; he dresses smart, askew fedora shadowing the lines of his face and his eyes and making him more appealing that it should.

"what are you?" i ask and his smile is all i see.

"don't you know already?" he speaks in a dulcet tone that soothes my nerves, walking back to the asshole to give him the tarot card of death.

"you're the bogey-man" i mutter incredulous, while the asshole stares transfixed at the card on his hand. his smile widens when he turns to me.

"it's one of my names" he tells me, coming back to my side to give me a card too, is blank. "you need to go" he hustles and then he's gone.

i walk, followed by the asshole and the human-like puppets. "what are those?" i ask nobody, but i still hear his dulcet tone answering.

"the puppeteer's minions" the voice tells me. i reach a street covered in mud, my shoes getting irremediably dirty and look around me for somewhere to take a seat and try to clean them, though i doubt it'll help. i climb a mound till reaching the base of a pillar, pressing my back against it to slide down.

i find myself in the middle of a circle, suddenly surrounded by old acquaintances with their own tarot cards in hand. i nod at them curtly in greeting and then he's there beside me, helping me take off my muddy shoes.

"you shouldn't be worried, i'm here to protect you while you lead them against the puppeteer" he tells me and i feel warm and tingly inside, but then i frown.

"you gave the card of death to him" i wonder aloud and his smile turns into a smirk.

"i didn't promise him to get out of this alive" he chortles amused and then caresses my cheek, almost lovingly " but you... you are different"

i smile, covering his hand with my own and close my eyes. "you're not the bogey-man, you're death in itself"

he laughs softly, nuzzling his cheek against my hand. "i told you, it was only one of my names"

i felt happy, content, not because i would get out of this alive, but because the asshole was going to die.


---i'm sure there was more to this, but i can't forget this accomplished feeling at knowing the asshole was going to be killed, even now, it makes me go =D. and lkasjdoisdjoiasdjqwo i was flirting with death and he was so so so utterly enchanting. i may begin to like my nightmares again