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[takutomaruki]

I AM A SINNER...

╰┈➤ ❝ When we get to the pearly gates. You'll get the green light, I'll get the old door in the face ❞

date

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02/01

Toplevel

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Welcome, dreamer, to the new dream

closed

15/01

Thread

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Rank 1: Glass, nightmares and Hopes.

closed

27/01

Thread

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Quick adjustments.

closed

03/02

Post

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Rank 2: Before my goodwill crumbles away in these sterile lands.

closed

01/05

Top level

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Rank 3: A gift

active

...YOU ARE A SAINT

Comments

[takutomaruki]

Maruki levels him a careful look, eyes drawn together as he finds himself growing more taut with those words.

He moves onward, running his fingers across the switches mounted on the wall to illuminate the place a little. "No, I am-" he stops, his apology frozen on his lips as he curls his fist tightly. This is not how he should be dealing with this situation. He needs to get his shit together!

"Again," he starts as he moves past him and gestures ahead at the small dining table. "That was a normal reaction. A world where people have to carry guns to keep themselves safe," he shakes his head and moves onward- grabbing a glass tumbler and turning on the faucet. "...that’s a nightmare I won't wish for anyone."

[paradisefraught]

"We make only good dreams come true," Akira murmurs, nodding, repeating what Dad told him once upon a time. "Right. I...thank you."

He sits down at the kitchen table and another wave of sheer exhaustion breaks over him. Immediately, he's slumping over, resting his head on his arms.

[takutomaruki]

Maruki stood by the sink, watching the water rise steadily in the glass tumbler. The quiet sound of the faucet filled the room, blending with Akira's soft, tired murmuring. "Good dreams... yes," Maruki said gently, his voice carrying a wistful edge. "Even if others can’t accept them at first, we should still do our best to help them." His smile lingered, faint but sincere, as he turned off the faucet and turned back to the kitchen table.

As he set the glass down in front of Akira, Maruki immediately noticed the boy slumped over, his head resting on his folded arms. His eyes softened at the sight, a fond huff following through. He reached out and ruffled Akira's hair lightly, careful not to startle him. "You know," he said quietly, a touch of amusement in his tone, "we should’ve done this back in your room. I don’t know why it didn’t even click for me."

Maruki’s own exhaustion was catching up to him; he stifled a yawn, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. A glance at the clock on the wall confirmed it—2:35 a.m. He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I’m not exactly operating at full capacity right now," he admitted with a soft chuckle.

"Occupational hazard when you have an insomniac streak, I guess."

[paradisefraught]

"Only the best dreams for everyone." Akira leans into the head ruffle, just a bit. "Glad I didn' get that from you..." he mumbles. "'M always in bed on time..." He cranes his neck up just enough to take a sip of water. come back to us, dreamer. come back.

[takutomaruki]

Maruki’s smile quirked faintly at the edges as Akira—no, Morning, he reminded himself—leaned into the ruffle. The soft texture of the boy’s black hair beneath his fingers was grounding, though the warmth it stirred was quickly overshadowed by the familiar sting of guilt. He averted his gaze, his hand dropping back to his side

Fixing him requires fixing yourself. And you know better than anyone, don’t you, that you are...unworthy of such a task.

The exhaustion pressing down on him was relentless, but it was familiar territory, and Maruki moved through it with practiced ease. He pulled out a chair and sank into the seat next to Morning, the creak of the wood sounding loud in the quiet kitchen. As he sat, his gaze softened, watching the boy tilt his head to sip from the glass he’d placed there moments earlier.

The instant should Morning set the glass down, Maruki would leaned forward, an instinct overriding his fatigue. “Hold still a moment, Morning,” he murmured, his tone gentle but insistent. His eyes carefully scanned the boy’s face and movements, noting the droop of his eyelids and the slight flush to his cheeks.

“Hmm...” Maruki tilted his head, his hand hovering briefly as though considering whether to check for fever or something else. "Something's off..."

[paradisefraught]

Morning lets out a yawn. It would've been big, but he doesn't have the energy for that. His words are slow, slurred, and monotone. "I'll stay awake...just a few more moments...just for you, Dad..."

Each little cloudy exhale drags him deeper down into a peaceful, warm bed of a loving embrace, but...Dad needs him. He holds his head up and perfectly still against the pressing weight of the universe and the pulling drag of sleep. His eyes focus nowhere, just as still as the rest of him.

[takutomaruki]

Maruki leaned in, his expression soft with concern as he carefully observed Morning’s face. His eyes tracked the boy’s pupils, the slow blink of his eyelids, and the way his shoulders drooped under the weight of exhaustion. “Just a little longer,” he murmured, almost absently, as though trying to reassure them both.

But then Morning went still. Too still. His head remained upright, his body unnaturally rigid despite the heavy pull of fatigue he’d displayed moments earlier. Maruki frowned, confusion flashing across his face. “Morning?” he called gently, tilting his head to get a better look at the boy’s unfocused eyes.

That’s when the unease crept in.

The faint flush of his cheeks, the listless expression, the way his body didn’t so much as sway or flinch—it all set off alarm bells in Maruki’s mind. His breath hitched, and his hand froze mid-motion before trembling faintly. “Morning,” he said again, louder this time, urgency sharpening his voice.

[paradisefraught]

"I can hear you." He stays still and calm, breathing like a machine. "Just a lil longer, right? I'm tired..."

[takutomaruki]

When Morning broke the silence, Maruki finally backed away and pulled his composure to what he knew best. With a disarming smile, he offered him space again and chuckled lightly- however it sounded far more nervous and jittery then before.

"No, its alright. You're fine," he waves his hand in clear dismissal, lying through his teeth. "Go get some sleep. You really do look like you need it."

[paradisefraught]

And just like that, the last strings of his puppetry cut with razor-sharp scissors, he flops right into his elbows and falls fast asleep, passing out right on the table.

[takutomaruki]

Maruki's face falls.

"What the hell...no, I didn't mean here I-" The doctor fumbled over his own word as he shook his head in disbelief as he shakes him. Gently of course, but regardless of that it is him shaking the other while trying to pretend all of this is normal. "Hey morning, how about you go to sleep in your room? I am sure the bed is far more comfortable than the table-"

[paradisefraught]

Morning doesn't wake up, solidly snoring away under the shakes.

[takutomaruki]

Maruki stood frozen for a long moment, his fingers trembling as they hovered over Morning’s limp shoulder. The rhythmic sound of snoring filled the room, a stark contrast to the storm raging inside his head. He could hear him. Azathoth, whispering, taunting, in that insidious way only it could, its presence a gnawing reminder of his own choices and failures.

"So fragile," it cooed, its voice slithering through his mind like oil on water. "You care so much for these fleeting things. But look at him... He’s already slipping, isn't he?"

Maruki clenched his teeth, forcing himself to focus. The dim light in the room blurred as his eyes glittered cold and sharp, like shards of broken glass catching a faint glow. His vision...shifted. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing, only that he felt it was necessary. Almost instinctual.

And then, he saw it.

It was faint, barely there, but Morning’s sleeping form seemed to be accompanied by a shadow-like framework. The shape was distorted, its outline significantly smaller—no older than five or six years. A child. Maruki’s brows furrowed deeply, his chest tightening as confusion warred with unease. What was this? The framework oozed, almost pulsated, like something from a nightmare brought to life. It dripped a sickly substance that wasn’t quite liquid, wasn’t quite mist but it fractured at the ends like broken glass and Maruki felt his stomach churn.

He took a sharp step back, his breath hitching as his back collided with the sofa. The contact jolted him, but the sight before him remained burned into his mind. He released a deep shudder, dragging a hand down his face as he tried to steady himself. His gaze flickered to the shadowy childlike outline again, only to find his mind screaming for answers it couldn’t provide.

"Not yet," Azathoth hissed, almost amused. "Not for you."

Maruki shook his head fiercely, as though trying to silence the voice. With a shaky breath, he straightened and raised his left hand. A single, trembling finger extended, and from it, a tentacle emerged. The sight could have unsettled anyone, but instead, Maruki focused entirely on its purpose. The appendage swelled, distorting and reshaping itself into something protective—a capsule-like form that enveloped Morning gently, cradling him with an almost tender precision.

The tentacle, careful not to wake the boy, receded toward the hallway, carrying Morning’s unconscious form like a parent tucking their child in for the night. Maruki followed, his legs unsteady beneath him, each step heavier than the last.

He stopped in the doorway, watching as the tentacle carefully laid Morning onto the bed, its movements disturbingly precise. It pulled the blanket over him with a deliberate care that felt almost mocking in its tenderness. Maruki stood frozen, his arms hanging limply at his sides, his breath uneven.

The guilt clawed at his chest, sharp and relentless. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the boy. Morning looked so small, so fragile, even as his steady breaths filled the silence. The image of the shadowy child lingered in his mind, an echo that refused to fade.

Maruki swallowed hard, his voice a mere whisper. “What am I doing?”

He pressed his knuckles against his forehead, his expression twisted with horror and guilt. He didn’t know if he was even helping the boy or violating some unspoken boundary. The tentacle retracted silently, leaving only Maruki in the room with the boy who, even in sleep, carried a weight far heavier than any child should. He wanted to ask why did he not knock at his door. Why did he pass out on the floor? Why damn it!

Maruki took a hesitant step back, his lips trembling as he muttered, “I’m sorry, Akira. I’m so, so sorry...” For what? He didn't know. He couldn't possibly know.

Then he turned away, retreating into the hallway with a heavy shadow cast down on his eyes.

[paradisefraught]

Morning wakes up just enough to call "g'nigh, dad..." before the door closes and he curls up fast asleep again.

end of cr 1 where i try to figure out what will morning be to maruki's confidant list

[takutomaruki]

"I am thou...

Thou art I.

Within the mind’s depths, thou seeketh solace for all suffering.

Thou hast uncovered a bond with the Moon to dreams and despair alike.

May this bond guide thee to a future free of anguish—or consumed by it.