Lets say Ros woke mc up from a bad dream. How would they react to MC suddenly lashing out from how they woke up MC, believing someone was trying to attack them in their sleep.
To the anons who yearn for the angst like we do, thank you...
The moment your hand flies toward them, VALENS doesn't flinch— they catch your wrist. An instinct, a reflex, years of violence stitched into their muscles like second nature. But when they see your eyes— wide, glazed with terror, not recognition— their grip slackens. “It’s me,” they say, low and flat. They don't take it personally, they've done the same. Worse even. They don’t try to touch you again, at least not yet. They just stay there, crouched beside your bed, watching over you.
You strike out— shoving, panicked, not fully awake— and CALDER takes every hit without a sound. His hands raise and he stays still, just waiting until your eyes find his and focus— until you realize. Only then does he kneel again, slower this time, not quite touching. “You’re safe,” he murmurs. “It was just a dream.” He stays up with you after, if you want. Guarding the door like whatever haunted you might try again
The swing of your arm knocks their hand away—and SIBYL draws back sharply. Not from pain, but from surprise. Then they see your face: the panic, the tears. And the guilt rushes in before your breath even steadies. But they're already beside you again, gentle and unsure. “I shouldn’t have touched you. That was my fault.” They place something warm in your hands—a cup, a cloth, whatever they could find. Their fingers brush yours. Then, quieter: “I won’t leave, if that’s okay...”
The moment you lash out, ERIS catches your arm in a steel grip. Effortlessly, like snatching a falling glass. They watch the fear and the confusion all play out in your face like a theatrical piece. The way you recoil from their touch, and the way your pupils shake. But they don't let go, only tighten. Their expression doesn’t change, but their voice loses its usual edge once they see the look of recognition returns to your gaze. When your breathing evens out, they lean forward, elbows on knees, voice almost a whisper: “Next time, let it be me who haunts you.”

















