Novel & Cerita Shattered Dream Sans

⸻ Ilyaan slowly shook his head. ⸻ The Dreamer smiled. ⸻ A sad smile. ⸻ A goodbye smile. 💔 ⸻ Then he asked: ⸻ “When I wake completely…” ⸻ The ocean shattered. ⚡🌌⚡ ⸻ “Will you save the dream…” ⸻ Silence. ⸻ “Or save me?” ⸻ 😱😱😱 ⸻ The universe cracked from end to end. ⸻

All over one kiss, but. Home and dreams - they're not the same thing. A dream that turns into a home? That’s a different beast. That’s messy. Confusing. Exhausting. For the past two hours, I’ve just been sitting here, still rattled by the dream that pulled me out of sleep and left my chest tight. It's been clashing with everything that’s supposed to feel safe - everything that’s supposed to feel like home. My spiral is broken by the sudden ring of my phone. It’s Analeigh.

In that room, amidst the shattered fragments of his shattered dreams, Vihaan found the strength to face the truth, to acknowledge his pain, and to embark on a journey of self-renewal. As the tears eventually subsided, leaving trails of salt-stained cheeks in their wake, Vihaan took a deep breath, drawing upon the reservoir of resilience within him. Though broken, he knew he was not defeated. With resolve in his eyes, he wiped away the remnants of tears and vowed to rise from the depths of despair, ready to rebuild his spirit and rediscover his worth.

Gunther reveals that my dreams was real. I feel tears filling my eyes, I search for the correct words to express my feelings, “Dysnomia… I’m beyond mad at you for letting Breanna and Bridget semi castrate me. I don’t want to feed off you. I just want to be left alone for now.”

He sank onto the floor, staring at the broken chair pieces. “Fuck!” he muttered under his breath. Every piece of wood on the ground reminded him of how his trust had been shattered. In that moment, he felt as if his whole life was splintered like the chair. Outside, the sound of a car approaching made him sit up. He went to the window and pulled the curtain aside just a little, careful not to be seen. In the parking lot, he could make out Dante’s figure alongside two others. Rico, who always tried to be strong, looked barely able to stand, while Gio and Leo carried their own marks of injury. Their faces were tired and pained.

he called out. Vanessa had just ended her call when she heard the voice. Turning around, her eyes met the gaze of her treacherous husband, Lucas, the man who had shattered her soul and broken her heart to pieces three years ago. Hatred coursed through her veins, but she maintained a calm and nonchalant expression "V... Vanessa?" Lucas stuttered, unsure if he was dreaming. The woman before him couldn't possibly be Vanessa. That timid, pathetic woman he once knew could never transform into this stunning beauty.

he said, his tone dripping with disdain. The words cut deep, and Veda felt her heart shattering into a million pieces. "I thought our vows meant something," she whispered. Adyant snorted. "Vows? Those were just empty promises, Veda. We both knew it." Veda's eyes widened in shock as the reality check of her shattered vows laid bare in front of her fragile heart. "How can you say that?" she demanded, her voice laced with pain. Adyant's gaze locked onto hers.

Annabelle’s eyes met his one last time—full of pain, sorrow, and a silent plea that shattered his soul. A cold voice echoed through the darkness, sharp and accusing. “You failed them.” The words were knives, slicing through his heart. His mind screamed, but no sound escaped. In the silence that followed, he felt the crushing weight of guilt and loss, drowning him in a sea of despair. Then the dream shattered. The darkness swallowed him whole. Devon’s eyes fluttered open slowly, the dim light filtering through the window blurring into focus. The world felt heavy, unfamiliar—his body weak, every breath shallow and uneven. Yet beneath the exhaustion, a fire ignited deep inside him.

Isadora: The dream starts with glass. A thousand shards suspended in midair—silver, sharp, endless—each one catching a flicker of light that doesn’t belong to this world. I stand in the middle of it, barefoot on the fractured reflection of myself. My blood looks like mercury, spilling upward instead of down, gravity bending wrong in the dream the way my reality does now. And then, like clockwork, I feel them. The boys. My monsters. My anchors.