Standard nightmare shit, right? Something to do with ghosts and Hollywood-style evil witches, where the POV character I was had visions of the future (which had horrible ghosts and possessions and evil witches with curses and shit) and I took a xanax. Like, in dream, I went "oh no, this will give me anxiety, I need to take a xanax to try and stave that off." And it fucking worked. I mean, it was still a nightmare that hit all of my usual triggers, but none of it actually touched me, because I'd taken dream sedatives. Fucking brains, man.
I just had like a really weird involved dream involving Roadhog and Junkrat (I can't even play Overwatch, my laptop is too shitty to allow it, so what the hell). It went like this: I lived in the same apartment building as these two losers, and had gotten to know them pretty well over the years, up to and including being accidentally included as 'oh shit run away and avoid the explosions' civilian-type stuff on missions. Jamie in particular had almost brought down the house several times with his 'totally legal fireworks not bombs I swear', and they even helped me propose to my wife?? (Dreams dude what the heckity-heck) Roadhog was literally like a walking wasteland - if he touched anyone skin-to-skin it could leave really bad irradiated burns, which was a huge downer on his love life, as you can imagine. Junkrat was intensely uninterested (and very asexual) so not much help there. But the big guy fell in love anyway - with the Hispanic necropath girl from a relatively obscure TV series I was watching last night called The River - and they found out by accident that she was (of course) immune to these effects. It turned out her parents had experimented on her in utero and she had like really intense healing/Life abilities that balanced out his automatic death points. Babies ensued, and at least one of the kids was like Seriously Special - he had like every power my subconscious could think of, but he was still just a kid. Some - people - came after him, not good people, to kill him before he properly grew and turned into a legit god, and the whole gang - like all of Overwatch - came by to help protect him. It was intense, and Junkrat was really happy to be a more-or-less uncle.
@PotteryWalrus OVERWATCH DREAM THEME HIGH FIVE Mine was some sort of dystopian bs though and I'm not sure I can remember any of it chronologically so I'm not even going to try Suffice to say it didn't involve any actual Overwatch characters as individuals (at the same time as all the adults were definitely Overwatch characters/at least armed with their weapons/I was definitely me-as-Mercy) and the world was... I and a bunch of other people lived in some sort of sci-fi looking base but on earth, and there were other such bases, and occasionally we would (be made to?) fight each other. Can't recall if the goal was to completely annhilate the opposing team or just to defeat enough of them that you could take over their base. Either way there was dying (though not on my part) and it was sort of unpleasant. Our base lost, I think - I got out alive by following along with the children evacuation system, so I'm not really certain what actually happened after I left... (I wasn't a child, but some adults got to come along for reasons of y'know keeping the kids calm-ish and not letting anyone fall off.) Weird thing to have super specific memory of: Children evacuation thing was they all got on ships that looked sort of like this, except flying: Spoiler: picture ....and I was acutely aware the entire time that these evacuation ships had been shot down before. There was a precedent. It wasn't common (accidents, sure, but the deliberate and systematic all of them had only happened once) and it wasn't celebrated but it had happened and it was a really interesting dream-exercise in pretending I wasn't worried at all when really I was praying our opponents weren't complete monsters.
weird dream. forget how it got to this point, but i needed to get something and the place to go to get it was through these weird crawlspace stairs. so i went up the dusty, cardboard-looking stairs, and at the top i looked around and there was this massive space, with a staggeringly high ceiling and floor equally far from where i was standing. It glittered vaguely in the darkness. Then someone else in the room went to turn a light on - "no, you'll make it change!" someone else shouted. But the lights were on and everything shifted and moved and we fell into the floor and then everything was really surreal and the room was a robot(?) and then i woke up.
My dreams have a weird habit of switching between discussing a piece of media and placing me inside said piece of media. So I'll be talking about a tv show or something one moment and then the next moment I'll be the main character of said show, or vice-versa, being a character in a book and then transitioning to reading the text of said book. Also, coin-operated Palantir.
I keep having weird vivid dreams recently, many unpleasant, so here's a selection from just now: Not so unpleasant: I'd dictated a book on tape as a child and my parents and I were listening back to the recording and typing it up for potential publishing. The roof of our house was being worked on and large sections were missing, as well as the ceiling of my room. I was trying to find shelter from heavy rain, climbed into the attic space, and eventually had to set up a zipline to get down, holding onto a clothes hanger. My mother and I then did some Pythagorean math on the garden to figure out how far I'd ziplined, and I sang a childhood song about ziplining and breaking your legs as you landed. More unpleasant (cw for death and allusions to sex and incest): Spoiler Lots of people had died in some unknown cataclysm. My family's corpses were strewn everywhere. A wild-eyed orphaned little girl who felt similar to my youngest sister clutched the corpse of her sister sickeningly, refusing to believe that she was dead and chattering madly about how things were going to be okay, when they clearly weren't. I was taking some kind of sex work class and for the final assignment I had to give my own father an erotic close-contact lapdance, perhaps even ending in direct sexual contact. The thought of doing it was sickening, but he encouraged that I had to do it. Firstly I had to make strawberries and cream and eat it seductively. Luckily once that was done he agreed I didn't actually have to touch him in that way, but the whole thing was fucked up. These dreams join an increasing number of vivid often unpleasant dreams I've been having recently of a similar calibre. My sleep schedule has been fucked up as well :/
directly from my snippets and musings file which i typed it out in frantically as soon as i woke up, plus some spelling corrections and name redactions Series of dreams - Selective apocalypses – anti-human magic, radiation reflecting off rhodium (?) chaff of the exploded moon, something to do with marine life, Tokyo explosion of nuclear weapons and global firestorm, walls across the pacific isolating irradiated japan, wall of obelisks of guilt, condemnation and mourning in Tokyo, crater flooded by permanent storm created by convection from heat from radioactive decay plus cloud seeding from space – water to block radiation, sarcophagus cf. Chernobyl made of the city’s rubble piled into a tower over ground zero in the crater flooded by the permanent storm Versus anti-human magic, all buildings still standing, cities rendered dangerous simply by lack of people, guilty scientist hadn’t realized that it passed through walls and earth and that their omnidirectional test had wiped out all of humanity that wasn’t naturally resistant or somehow shielded, kills themselves and assistant to make sure the knowledge dies with them, leaves recordings in ‘room of whispers’ magically tied to granite artifacts in particular stylus gifted to them by assistant Flooding and sea level rise as the ice caps were melted by firestorm in firestorm scenario, dragonflybow rock feat. Morrison formation and some sort of granodiorite (haha nice stratigraphy dreamself) seeing auroras low to the sea across the flooded pacific Hoverboards/anti-grav/magslips breathe in or 1 to rise, breathe out or 2 to sink, 3 to accelerate linearly, tape two together to walk clumsily on ceilings, houses made by planting saplings, tying them together still living in an arch to make a dome with them all tied at the top, still living, and letting them grow together, swings made from polished harvested tusks Antigrav/magslip parkour using them handheld rather than stood upon to latch onto various surfaces rather than float or fly Seeing [housemate] in the dream and telling her there were people in my subconscious imagination she needed to meet Rotating sign fictional story? Something to do aesthetically with shin megami tensei? At least in name, sign rotates to read ATC, CTA, etc, different acronyms for the story, somehow tragic or ‘feels-y’ Song: “all the [something] people, standing together/all the [something] people standing as one” unsure of second verse but rhythm should be right] Something to do with [acquaintance who i haven't seen in years]-like cousin looking for college in post-post apocalyptic world/some sort of cycle of revenge with their mother, unclear, b-plot Something to do with a kind of human caliborn and hoverboard/mag-slip racing Following a professor who lent me a hoverboard/magslip, some clever observation about nostalgia, keys, metaphors? Holding magslip to feet when upside-down to ensure that it kept your personal gravity pulling the right direction –need direct contact with surface, in this case feet, holding it to them with a free hand ensures that contact is kept Can’t fall up when using a double magslip to walk on ceilings, as soon as contact is broken with the ciling, gravity to reverts to normal, you fall up, flip to falling back down, arrive at the top of the surface you fell up off of with little extra momentum, easy to hit it and break your fall that way Person who [housemate] should meet “looked like a Patrick” but didn’t have a name Weighing clothes and shaving legs for hoverboard/magslip racing – want to reduce weight/mass and streamline as much as possible, but not worth buying fancy specialized gear that was sold for it – cf ‘hi-tech’ golf club scams [something] from song above – scattered? Fits beat if not the exact word Amazon rainforest protected from global firestorm in that scenario by rainclouds and heavy rain, the forest steamed but did not ignite Firestorm couldn’t reach uniformly all the way across the globe, instead “burning winds” moving with air circulation detaching from the continuous firestorm spreading from japan proper Many survivors in Africa-established as new ‘first world’ Versus America which was left v post-apocalyptic with only those underground mostly surviving In rhodium chaff scenario-awakening of psychic powers by beams of reflected radiation-technically loss of suppression of psychic powers by the mood Beams of reflected radiation from the chaff killed many tinfoil hats offered some chance of re-reflecting the beam way from the brain, otherwise could turn a swathe of the brain into rhodium or pastry (??) or could randomly and powerfully adjust potential psychic powers incl. necromancy Tower of artists organized by floor – each floor dedicated to the art styles of a particular time period, accusing some of the artists who lived there of spending all their time in “their century” Sneaking body killed by newly awakened necromancer-psychic from party on top floor of tower in a rolled up rug disguised further as someone tied up doing a bondage scene with a scarf to hide her slit throat down through the years of the tower with a guy who had only recently been persuaded to leave his floor and was reluctant to pass back through there Never found out what happened to the body, but the plan was to necromantically revive her and others somehow in the service of some plot or other Plan to remove the rhodium core of the moon (?) nominally to prevent apocalypse when it was exploded, actually to benefit the person who was dictating the plan cross-reference to earlier war dream where he was on the opposing side and used a weapon that was similar to the one used to blow up the moon to avoid capture - only half-remembered this earlier dream Plan to remove core of moon was rejected due to lack of funds, at which point he confessed that the results wouldn’t be as dire as he had been saying and that they should blow up the moon anyways Not blowing up the moon would lead to some sort of never defined apocalypse of its own Specifically wanted to awaken his psychic powers preferentially over those of native americans (?) Miniature but still huge several-story globe with adjusted gravity to pull in for purposes of tourism, representatives hawking vacations to various areas stood on their respective regions of the globe which could be traversed by massive brass arcs around it cf. globe holders Someone offered me double-decker cheesecake (which I took gladly) Aesthetic image – lots of flooded but thriving glass and steel buildings surrounding the tilted dragonflybow rock – a massive hunk of stone sitting as an island in the water, aforementioned arouras across the pacific seen from it, late night sun seen around the curve of the earth First trying hoverboards/magslips from the top of dragonflybow rock to the surrounding buildings Having trouble drawing from the top of it due to its tilting Name related to the auroras that could be seen – sometimes occurred on/around it? Tokyo tour in anti-human magic scenario –buildings still standing but abandoned, looking at the laboratory where the fatal spell was cast, nearby museum had several stories high meteor from something or other (non apocalypse related, v impressive) “[my grandparents - this dream was the night after their 60th anniversary party]’s old car struck by meteor” wasn’t there – the art institute had it – nice old fashioned red car, ding on the side fender from meteor, not remarkable unless you knew the story
I dreamed I found a pair of very comfortable, very pretty, and very sturdy black harem pants at the market. They had pockets. And were 20 bucks. I bought them in a heartbeat. And then I woke up to find that it was all just a dream. *shakes fist at reality* (I saw similar pants to those on a market some months ago and am still kicking myself that I didn't buy them, because I haven't seen pants like that since - the ones I see are either fugly as shit, from really thing fabric, or don't have pockets, or any combination of those three.)
Spoiler: long ghost dream Half of this was like a movie, and half of it was like a videogame, so I guess on the whole this dream was shot like a David Cage game with decent story instead of.... whatever it is he does. So we start in a house. It's grandma's (Ama) house, with three cats, comfortable if old furniture, crosses on the wall. Her two sons are visiting, one with his 3 year old daughter (Young Daughter) and baby and one with his 16 yr old daughter (Older Daughter). Son 1 is on the rocks with his wife, and she's taken his two older sons to her family for the Christmas break, while he took the two younger children to his. Son 2's wife is dead, but he and his daughter are close-- with the exception of her recent dating life. It's Christmas, but an unusually warm one. Son 1 is walking through the house, checking on things while Ama entertains the kids upstairs. He overhears an argument between Son 2 and Older Daughter, shakes his head and heads out to the backyard. Flip to the perspective of a teenage boy (Boyfriend). He's been sneaking around in the backyard. He bought bus tickets to come visit Older Daughter, because he is sixteen and in love and utterly incapable of thinking about consequences. Predictably, Son 1 finds him. Drags him inside, where Son 2 hits the roof while Older Daughter is absolutely overjoyed. Flip to later that night. It dark out, and there's a man in the backyard. Ama has vegetable plots on as much of her land as she can, and he's wandering between them, feeling nostalgic. He shouldn't be here, but he doesn't know where else to go. He'd forgotten it was Christmas; if it had just been Ama, he would have gone to the front door. With Son 1 & 2, he's not so sure. Unfortunately, he's not getting much of choice. Inside the house, the lights have gone out. The weather is changing fast, but Ama is cheerfully encouraging her sons to actually talk with their children. Candles are lit, dinner is served. Everyone is almost done eating when the Ama's bedroom door slams closed, with a shriek from one of the cats. She looks worried. Her sons laugh it off, until one of the bedroom doors downstairs slams closed as well. The candlelit house no longer looks cozy, it looks ominous. The back doors blow open, and the wind almost sounds like mocking laughter. Son 1 rushes outside and catches the man in the garden, who turns out to be his brother, Son 3. They come inside and Son 1 loses his mind at Son 3, who is apologizing for coming. There are bruises all over his arms and a haunted look in his eyes. Ama, who hasn't seen him in years, rushes over to hug him and tells them not to fight. The kids are confused, and Older Daughter tells her father that she though he was a twin, where he grimly replies that no, they're triplets. The back doors bang closed. Some of the candles go out. Rather than head into the bedrooms, they set up sleeping bags in the living room, the kids all set up between the couch and table like they can be guarded from the world. Son 1 and 2 get into a whisper argument about what to do with 3, who Ama has taken to the kitchen to eat. She gestures at the kitchen window, and the curtains blow a little but it doesn't open. She's worried; psychic blood runs in her family, and even as little of it as she has, she should be able to open the windows. Something is fighting her. Son 3 says he knows what it is, and he shouldn't have come. He didn't realize there would be children. Ama looks more worried by the second. She takes him upstairs, against the wishes of all three of her boys, because she's insisting on getting him some clothes to replace the dirty ones he is wearing. Her bedroom door is open now, and Son 3 worries. Two of the cats twine around her ankles as she goes into her closet while he watches-- and she disappears. A force begins shoving him backwards until he gets a grip on the doorframe, screaming Ama's name. The two cats come barreling out, fur puffed, taking him out at the ankle and letting him get shoved all the way down the stairs, banging his face open and breaking one of his wrists. Sons 1&2 come rushing over, while the cats launch themselves at Older Daughter, transforming into little house spirits on their way. They settle onto her shoulders, to the shock of all three men, and boyfriend asks what the hell is going on. Older Daughter confesses to having seen ghosts and spirits all her life, which he thinks is really cool. Her father doesn't agree. Son 3 apologizes. Son 1 tells him he never should have come, that he should have stayed where he was and let the red woman damn him. Son 2 tells him that's a bit harsh, and leads their brother back to the kitchen to see if there's a first aid kit for his split lip. Older Daughter asks her uncle what 'the red woman' is to the shushing of her house spirits. Son 1 looks pissed, and doesn't answer, instead going to make sure that Young Daughter and Baby are settled in fine. He gets a call from an old friend at the college he works at, who's been paying attention to the weather. "It's going to be a hard, cold storm. You know what that means?" Son 3 comes out of the kitchen and confesses. He's been hearing whispers for months now. He wakes up with new bruises every morning, and blood under his nails. His doors open at shut at random, his food rots within an hour, frost crawls up his windows even in the heights of summer. He loses time so frequently that he didn't even know it was Christmas. Ama might have been able to help him, but she's gone now-- and he didn't know there would be children. Son 1 looks frightened and angry. Son 2 is looking at Boyfriend with great relief now, because that means that Older Daughter is probably too old for what hunts them. There is a giggle from the front door. Outside is a techinicolor nightmare-- morphing and shifting rapidly from one cartoon woman to another. It should be comical, but in practice is it terrifying watching Ariel's face morph into Jessica Rabbit's, changing and twisting and grinning the whole while. No matter what hair color the characters have in reality, here they are always redheads. The house spirits are notably absent. A little girl-- Youngest Daughter-- darts out from behind Son 1's legs. He tries to catch her and fails, watching with horror as she runs to the glass-paned front door. The closer she gets, the more reality fades from around her; her fingers grow outlined and softly painted, her hair takes on the floating quality of Disney animation. She cries as she reaches the door, and Son 1 tries to reach her, being pushed back by the same force that threw Son 3 down the stairs. The front doors open. The Red Woman reaches out for her prize. And then frowns, because this little girl is not Young Daughter, but a cat instead. Hidden behind the couch, the two other house spirits struggle to hold Young Daughter down and keep her quiet. She steps forward, hunting. Her voice is filled with static. Once upon a time, she took the faces of mothers long lost, but these days cartoons work better. Children never know any better, and their parents-- their parents do, at their horror is sweet to her. She is owed, on the first winter storm of the year, a child's soul. How convenient that her torment of Son 3 led her here. She intends to get what is her's and no one can stop her. Son 1 is still struggling to move forward. Son 2 is holding Boyfriend back, while Older Daughter has her arms wrapped tightly around Baby, eyes closed, lips moving. She isn't as experienced or wise as Ama, but she has power. The Red Woman can't touch either of them. One of the house spirits loses its grip for a second before regaining it. Son 3 sees this, and has to act. Twenty years ago, they'd been 12 years old and picking between their mother-- Ama-- and their father, a faceless memory. Sons 1&2, loyal to a fault, chose to go with their mother after the divorce. Son 3 hadn't been given the option, though his brothers never knew it. When they were younger still, the Red Woman (a childhood nightmare, a ghost story to keep them in bed) had come to their house. Sons 1&2 always thought that she'd been driven away, but Son 3 knew better. She had been given a deal instead, and he'd left with their father to fulfill it. More than anything, he'd wanted forgiveness. For betraying Ama, though she always knew it wasn't his choice. For abandoning his brothers, though they never knew why. And now, for bringing the Red Woman here, where there would be children. Son 3 steps forward, into the Red Woman's path. She pauses, then grins with a thousand different mouths, flashing by rapidly with the history of animation. "You need a child's soul on the first storm of winter," he says, shaking and covered in bruises, "and I have one. Isn't this what you wanted?" She takes him, while his brothers watch in shock, and he dies in her arms. She carries him off, her prize won 20 years late, while they struggle to move. And it's only after the front door has shut and the storm died down that they are freed. Son 1 hugs his children, frantic and afraid. Boyfriend and Older Daughter whisper away from them, talking about spirits and ghosts, and what happens next. The three cats twine around Son 2's ankles as he heads upstairs and finds Ama laid out on the bed-- sleeping, thank God. The cats settle around her. He goes downstairs. He meets his brother's eyes, and they don't talk about it.
I cut out some parts for consistency, but I have to say I'm pretty please to get an Awful Ghost Dream that didn't leave me a paranoid wreck for weeks after. The Red Woman was legit terrifying in my brain though.
Oh wow, I just had a dream that I was at a big house visit/party with everyone from Kintsugi. I didn't recognise most people because they were irl and didn't have avatars, but Seebs was there, and was... This tough barrel chested old man with entirely grey skin, a strangely large, round head, and a spectacular long grey beard. They looked like a dwarvern conspiracy theorist. It was incredible. Then we all had to go to a haunted house/swamp and fight monsters alongside some old school friends of mine.
I dreamed of coming across a small bird on the road it was as big as a sparrow, had the body and colouring of a rock dove, and the head and tail of a rooster, with lustrous, floofy emerald feathers and a lustrous floofy emerald feather mohawk. It was a very friendly bird and let me pet it, then went on its business of eating worms.
Just had my second Fake Marriage AU dream in recent memory, and just like the previous one I promptly wandered off right before the ceremony and got terribly lost. Sorry, poor groom, your bride is a flake. Good luck with whatever situation this fake marriage was supposed to deal with.
last night/this morning i dreamed that there was some new religion in town but it was so secretive that even if you were in it, you couldn't talk to anyone else about what you knew about it. how you joined was - you'd call one of the members and they'd bring what was basically a video game to you. But that's all anyone knew. Even the members would insist that you couldn't tell them what you saw in the game - implying that it was different for everyone. but everyone who played the game converted. and as a writer, i was very curious, but not curious enough to call. so one of my friends did it for me and i went "okay, whatever, i'll try this." so the members told me how the controls worked, and not to tell anyone, not even them, what i saw in the game. and then they left. the controls were weird and took me a while to figure out. i passed a set of statues that i think were meant to be puzzles, and found myself in an endless set of rooms that shouldn't have been connected but were. i fought when i had to. i had a knife. eventually, i was in a kill-or-be-killed situation. or it seemed that way anyway. i couldn't do it. i dropped the knife. someone else finished him off. i tried to explain to someone that i couldn't kill anyone, but there was an understanding that 12 more people had to die before i would be done. they knew it. i knew it. "Well, maybe i can kill just those people..." but i couldn't. I knew I couldn't. I tried to catch a train out but all the schedules flashed nonsense at me. and then i woke up. i don't think it was just a game. i think that everyone converted because they felt they had no choice, that they had fallen this far and could no longer be who they used to be. people are so fragile.
Why do some people get vivid creepypasta dreams and I just get "I'm sorry, oh goddess, but we mere mortals are entirely unequipped to comprehend why you are terrified"?
one time when i was really little i dreamed that i was a knight who had to protect a queen, except she turned into butter and melted in the sun. i like to think that my dreams have leveled up along with me.
I think that the problem is that my dreams are too abstract. When dream-me isn't dissociating, my dreams are trying to do the whole Lovecraftian, horrors-beyond-human-comprehension, but I don't care about those.
my dreams have a way to specifically make abstract dreams more understandable to me. I call the dreams where this happened 'looping dreams' - a section of the dream will play over and over again, slightly different each time, so i understand the context for why it is Important or Different that it happens the way it ends on. I've had two of these dreams that were worth remembering; one looped so i could understand why some people needed me to die, and the other was for cultural context (and it was a really weird culture and it looped like 15 times before i caught on)
