eyes don't lie ;

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her dreams were a cherished reprieve from the turmoil of her life, a chance to escape the annoyance that had become reagan. he plagued her days and nights, even her private morning walks. he was always, there. and she hated it. he just wouldn't leave her alone, making dreams the only place she was safe from his cocky attitude. though she wouldn't deny that she was beginning to feel something for him, but it wasn't the most positive emotion. in some way, it felt as if she were accepting that he wouldn't be leaving her side anytime soon.

“this is not home.” were the first words she grumbled as she came to her dream world. everything was, green—trees, flowers, grass. everything that wasn't the city. there were no skyscrapers, no cars, no people. and worst of all, she was still a wolf. with a sniff, rina lifted her head from her paws to look around. she may as well explore the area but the thought was cut short when a very familiar body caught her eye.

the softness in her voice dissipated the moment she realized who it was. “did you follow me here too?” she snapped, lip curled in disgust as she looked at the devil himself. just my fucking luck.

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for @Reagan~ im also assuming they've stayed together if that's alright?

the staff team luvs u

Most of the time, his dreams were a twisted carnival of death and destruction, a hellscape painted with the damage he’d rained down upon the world—the families he shattered like glass, the people he both protected and unjustly condemned all rolled into one messy package. The innocence he laid waste to.

That feeling of blood, sticky and warm, congealing beneath his nails was so visceral that it would jolt him awake, heart racing, only to find the reality of canine paws instead of the crimson horror he’d expected. Reagan didn’t often wrestle with guilt; he was all too aware of his own faults, and one glaringly clear was his knack for brutality. The collapse of civilization had simply paved the way for that dark side to shine in the limelight, even if he could occasionally brag about being somewhat fair—like a judge who enjoyed the execution.

He was the kind of guy who’d waltz into a bar like he owned the place, looking to start a fight just to remind everyone how tough he could be. Reagan was no knight in shining armor—hell, he wasn't trying to save anyone—but when it came to his brand of justice, he liked to think he was equitable with his punishments.

So, no, guilt wasn’t a frequent visitor, regardless of how hard his twisted dreams tried to force it upon him by shoving such feelings down his throat.

Funny enough, when he slipped into slumber, it was as if reality pulled a fast one on him. The landscape around him wasn’t littered with crumbling ruins like he expected; instead, it was almost absurdly tranquil to the point of being romantically nauseating. Blinking groggily, he lifted his head to drink in the scenery, when the delightful little voice of Rina graced his ears. Her words, far from warm, felt like daggers, yet he brushed off the sting, even if it pricked his nerves just enough to try his patience. She strutted around like he’d committed some unpardonable sin to vex her, but to be honest, Reagan figured he was doing more than enough to play the accommodating gentleman.

“Why, Rina, isn’t it a bit presumptuous to think that the center of my world revolves around you?” he shot back, his tone dripping with playful sarcasm as he rose to his feet, stretching his muscles with a theatrical flair. If those thick muscles rippled and flexed underneath his ochre fur in a way that might catch her eye, well, that was just an unfortunate side effect, wasn’t it? Shaking off the remnants of sleep, he turned to face her fully, and couldn’t help but notice the disgust etched across her features. Rolling his eyes at her exquisite brand of bitchiness, a small snarl curled at the corners of his lips. “What’s the matter, honeycakes? Trying to ditch me?”

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yes this is absolutely fine! <3

the staff team luvs u