They say there’s a man- The Nightmare Weaver, they call him. He’ll trade you for nightmares and daydreams of terror. No one’s spoken of what exactly he trades them for, but its said the price is small.
He has people come to him for many reasons.
A bubbly individual who wishes to be rid of things that haunt them daily and nightly. A sophisticated individual who deems nightmares and dreams overall, an illogical terror. An artist desperate for inspiration, who’s reputation was built on terror and gore. Some even come with a new excuse on their tongue every time.
Very few will share a name or a story, but, the Nightmare Weaver is quite content to help where he can.
So, when Virgil smiles, calls him Remus, and starts idly asking what he’d like this time, despite him not once speaking, Roman has to laugh, just a little.
“No. But I’d hope you’d help me anyway, if you don’t mind.”
Virgil frowns. What, would someone with no Nightmares looming over his head, and with no interest in gaining such terrors, need help from one known as the Nightmare Weaver.
(A fic prompt! Ya’ll are welcome to continue/use this as a kinda summery/idc- if you take this prompt and run with it in another post, do tag me & link to this post! ^u^)