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English
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Published:
2019-03-27
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986
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1/1
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Please Wake Up

Summary:

A wonderful dream turned nightmare by sleep paralysis. This is the true story of how I woke up afraid to go back to sleep. Mental health. Not canon-reliant. Obviously, self-insert. It's my dream, after all.

Notes:

Hello, I'm just bringing my fic over here from FFN.

It's not often that you get to preface a fanfic or drabble with "This is a true story" but here we are. I experienced everything I wrote here in a dream-turned-nightmare. It was a horrible experience, and I hope that none of you have to experience sleep paralysis. Playing the role of the stereotypical "demon on your chest" is our own one-and-only Luna Lovegood! It might not surprise you to know that I was reading a Lovemione fanfic before bed, but I swear it wasn't a horror story.

Please be aware that this story involves mental illness and paralysis. I'm not a psychologist, and I don't know if my nightmare actually describes a real illness. Other than sleep paralysis, of course. There's violence, and sexual themes. If this sounds squicky to you then my dream might not be worth a read.

Work Text:

We survived. It’s over, and now is the time for healing. Or, it will be soon. First we need to come to terms with what happened, what we had been through. The stress and the fear are clinging to us like mud. It will take time. And it will take our community, currently in tatters, coming together to support each other.

From among the wreckage I see my friends and family picking themselves up and dusting themselves off. They look lost, unsure where to go from here. A few people have already begun tidying up, probably to keep themselves occupied. And there, I spy Luna coming towards me with purpose. Guilt wells up inside for having left her behind, but we each had our respective roles to play.

Luna takes my hand and pulls me along the dark hallways. I follow her down a set of cold stone stairs and we come to a chamber lit by the flickering light of a campfire. It was a little-used corner of the castle, technically part of the dungeons, but away from the main entrance you would take to the Slytherin common room or the Potions lab.

On the floor by the fire is a pile of blankets, making a rather cozy nest. I turn to Luna, a question on my tongue.

"Luna, what -"

Luna interrupts. "We've been dancing for so long, I think it's time, don't you?"

I understand that maybe this could also be a way of healing, in the arms of someone you love. Or maybe just to feel something. Maybe Luna needs this. At least, that is how I justify ignoring the voice in the back of my head questioning whether this is really the best time. Whether this is actually healthy, or just an attempt to cope. I push those thoughts away as we turn towards each other.

We kiss. It's sweet, the history between us making it all the more meaningful. Closed eyes, soft lips, she holds me in her arms and I gratefully sink into her warm embrace.

Luna walks us backwards towards the blankets. There is an anticipation in the air. It sends my heart fluttering, and my breaths quicken. I hold myself closer, savouring the contact and the warmth.

I'm all smiles as I lie back on the blankets. Luna joins me, crawling over top and resting her weight on top of me. I feel comfortable and safe in her arms, even if the voice in the back of my head, now mostly mute, is giving me the occasional warning whenever I think about our situation, which admittedly isn't often at all.

We're kissing. I'm naked from the waist up, and my hands roam along her back. My body tingles, and my mind is lost to the moment. She pulls back, and I eagerly anticipate a progression down my body. Instead, I'm shocked to hear her speak. Not in the husky voice of arousal, but in a voice of concern.

"It's okay, she won't leave," I hear her say.

I quickly look towards the stairs, the only entrance to the chamber. I hadn't heard anyone enter. As I crane my neck she continues, and I realize that there is no on else there.

"No, stop, I don't need to! It's okay, it's okay," she mumbled.

I can feel her hands at my sides, just several inches below my armpits, where my bra strap had rested just moments ago.

"Luna...?" I venture hesitantly.

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no..."

She's shaking her head, and her fingers are tickling me. I can't move my body, I feel paralyzed. An unpleasant tingling sensation spreads along my body, from my neck to my toes. I've always been terrible with tickling. I hate it. But this overwhelms me, like being electrocuted. Like my body has fallen asleep, nothing but pins and needles. I can't move my fingers, much less my arms or legs. I can barely breathe.

"Please!" I gasp. "It's okay, just don't tickle me!"

It took everything for me to get that out. I can't see straight. I don't know what was happening. I don't know what's wrong.

"She said stop tickling her!" Luna shouted. Instead, I feel her digging her fingers painfully into my sides. It hurts, badly. I can't move. My body is still pins and needles, her hands biting deep into my sides, and I'm terrified that moving will make it hurt worse - that somehow her hands would slide into a worse position. I bite my lip. Hard. My eyes screw upwards, trying to cope. Trying to force my body to move. Trying to say something. My body doesn't respond.

Luna was watching at me, and she could see my pain and fear.

"Oh no, no, you're okay, Lily. You're okay."

And then she starts peppering my lips with soft kisses, trying to calm and comfort me. Trying to make me feel better. In the back of my mind I can feel that she cares, but all the while her fingers are digging into my sides. I don't think she can control it. And I'm panicking.

"You're hurting her!" Luna yells. "You're hurting her!" And then she starts screaming, full of anguish and desperate pain. I gather what is happening - she has clearly been hearing voices. Some part of her is scared for me, and she's fighting for me. But the other part of her... I don’t know what she is going to do. I might actually die here.

Her scream carries on. She begins bashing my face with her forehead, although I mostly just feel her hair brushing against me. I try desperately to wrench myself away from her violent flailing.

... And then I woke up. My sides hurt, but the tingling was a phantom of what it had been in the dream. I was gasping for breath. And I was scared to go back to sleep.