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callsign-rogueone · 7 months ago

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deja vu - b.d.

Bodhi Durran x reader part of Bodhi and Darling's story 💗 words: 2.9k 🏷: set in the year before Fourth Wing (Bodhi’s first year). one tiny book spoiler but it’s not stated explicitly, hurt/comfort, anxiety, imagined character death (in a nightmare). mild dissociation, anxiety, nausea, fighting (challenge match), one very small injury, canon-typical peril and danger.

“I love you,” Bodhi rasps, closing his eyes. “I’m so… sorry…”

“No, no, hey, look at me,” you beg, hot tears slipping down your cheeks. “You’re gonna be okay, we’re getting you help, but you have to keep looking at me, okay?”

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t move or make any indication that he can hear you. He’s silent, perfectly still — he isn’t breathing.

“Bodhi,” you cry, “Bodhi, please don’t leave me. Wake up, please.”

His heart has stopped beating. The love of your life, the man who had sworn to protect you, who you had sworn to love in sickness and in health and through the test of time, until the end of your days, is dead.

You feel like the air has been squeezed from your lungs, your breaths coming in choked sobs.

“Wake, child,” someone interrupts — Sìoda. “It’s just a dream. It’s not real.”

You shake yourself awake, panting like you’d been running for miles. You look down at your palms, illuminated by the gentle moonlight filtering into the room -- they’re clean; not streaked with Bodhi’s blood. It was just a dream. Just a terrible dream, likely a product of the overactive imagination you’ve had your whole life, and your anxiety about the dragonkind exam you have tomorrow that you’re convinced you’re going to fail, despite spending all evening studying.

“Your mate, and all of your brothers and sisters are safe in their beds,” she soothes, “as are mine.”

Oh. You still aren’t any good at shielding, so she’s been getting all of your emotions through the bond — you’d likely woken her up with your distress.

“I’m sorry,” you say in a guilt-ridden whisper. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Don’t apologize, my child. Just breathe.”

You mop up your tears with the sleeve of your pajama shirt, and focus on deepening your breaths, trying to relax your racing heart.

“There are still a few hours until formation,” she says gently. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

You lay back down, gazing at the wall of gray stone beside you, counting the bricks and trying to find patterns in the texture until the exhaustion overtakes you, and you fall back asleep.

Thankfully, your subconscious doesn’t torment you with any more cruel sights. You wake up to gentle November sunlight warming your skin and birds chirping — last month, a pair of doves had made a nest in the tiny alcove by your window.

You get dressed quickly, sorting out your hair and straightening your uniform. You’re in the middle of lacing your boots when there’s a knock at your door, the familiar rhythm that you know can only be Bodhi; like clockwork, he comes down the hall to get you every morning so you can walk to breakfast together.

You unlock the door with your mind, something you’ve been able to do for the last week, breathing a sigh of relief when he walks into the room unharmed and smiling. You hug him extra tightly, tucking your head into his neck and holding him a moment longer than usual, comforted by the steadiness of his breathing.

“You okay, Darling?” he asks, sounding concerned.

You hum in contentment. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

You don’t mention the dream, because nobody wants to hear about their own death, and it would be silly to bother him with something you’ve already gotten over — though you know the image of Bodhi bleeding out in your arms on the floor of that empty classroom will likely be burned into your brain forever.

He gives you an easy smile, shouldering your bookbag and gesturing for you to head out the door.

You’re comforted by the normalcy of the day. It’s almost too easy, too smooth.

Everyone is present and accounted for at breakfast, in good spirits — as good as they can be, in your current situation. Battle brief passes quickly, with no reports of catastrophe, though you know that they likely aren’t giving you all the information they have. The dragonkind test you’d been so worried about is much easier than you’d expected, and you have the rest of the afternoon off until dinner.

You don’t object as your squadmates suggest you use one of the empty common rooms to study in — the same one you’d seen in your dream.

What would you even say? Sorry, guys, but can we pick somewhere else to be, because I had a nightmare last night that Bodhi died in this room?

You shake it off, repeating Sìodha’s words in your mind as you crack open your textbook: It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But then every word of the conversation going on around you starts to sound very familiar, like you’ve heard it before — like they’re reciting lines for a stage play.

It’s just a dream. It’s not real.

But this can’t be a coincidence. There’s too many similarities for comfort; the location, the timing — the sun is just starting to set — the exact page that each boy’s book is open to… you remember that, remember Sawyer’s book being open to a page with that same illustration.

“Have you done number four yet? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Let me see.”

You predict their replies with nearly perfect accuracy — because you’ve heard this exact conversation before.

What if it is real? What if you’re trapped in an endless loop like in one of the novels you’d read, where the leading lady has to live the worst day of her life over and over until she figures out how to change it?

You could hardly bear to watch the light leave Bodhi’s eyes in that dream, and so help you gods, you are not going to see it ever again; you’re going to do something about it.

You’d read some theory in a philosophy book once that the flap of a butterfly’s wings can set off a chain of events that cause a hurricane. Would it be safer to stop this exact moment as it happens, or to interrupt now? Or was that dream really just a dream, and today will just be a normal day, or Basgiath’s version of normal, and you’re worrying over nothing?

“I don’t think that’s it. I think that’s the answer to number five, though.”

Those are the words. You’d almost missed them, too concerned about what’s going to happen in the next five seconds, but you should have just enough time if you act now. Sìodha seems to think so too, sending you a flood of urgency and panic.

You tackle Bodhi to the ground, wrapping an arm around his waist and putting a hand behind his head to cushion his fall as you both hit the floor. Your knuckles split on the impact, pain ripping through your hand, but all you can focus on is Bodhi underneath you — his eyes wide with shock, but still blinking up at you, his lips parted in a gasp, but not slick with blood, his heart racing, but not stopping.

There’s a shout from beside you, the clatter of metal against stone, and the sounds of a brief struggle. Dain has the would-be assassin pinned in a matter of seconds, Sawyer helping him restrain her and haul her away, leaving you and Bodhi alone, still tangled up in one another on the floor, his eyes locked with yours.

He finally manages to form words, but not a complete sentence, still stunned. “What… How did you… What?”

“I saw this in a dream last night,” you answer, your voice wavering. “I saw you sitting right here with me, talking to Sawyer. You said that same sentence, and then there was a knife in your chest.”

You look to your right, where it lays on the floor a few feet away — the exact shape and length as the one you’d dreamed of. “That knife.”

Bodhi’s eyes widen even further as he puts it together. “I think that was your signet,” he breathes. “You’re a visionary.”

You finally let go of him, moving to sit by his side on the cold stone of the floor and staring blankly at the dagger. It had missed either of you by at least three feet, but had you acted a second later, or not at all… That doesn’t matter, you suppose. What matters is that Bodhi is alive; that you’d been able to save him, because you’d known what was going to happen and you altered course at the last second.

You should be proud of yourself, but all you can think about is his words to you, and the implications thereof. If this is truly your signet, then you’ll have to watch this kind of thing happen over and over, and likely not just to Bodhi, but to the rest of your friends, too. But what if you can’t stop it next time? What if you see something happen to the twins? They’re a two-hour flight away, and you can’t abandon your post just because you had a dream that something bad happened to them.

Will any of your dreams be just dreams anymore, or are you going to see all manner of terrible things every night for the rest of your life? How are you supposed to distinguish between dreams and reality, between the sleepy inventions of your subconscious, or the magic of your signet?

“I’m sorry, child. It is a powerful gift to have, but it can be quite cruel.”

You can hear Bodhi speaking, likely a thank you and some soft reassurances, but you don’t process the words. You don’t respond to either of them, still not fully convinced that this isn’t another dream.

The warmth of his hand on your arm starts to pull you out of that numbness. “Talk to me, darling.”

“I watched you die,” you whisper. “There was nothing I could do. I just had to hold you, until… I thought it was just a nightmare, but then it started happening in reality, and...”

You shake your head, eyes welling with tears that you try to blink away. You tell yourself that there’s no reason to be crying, no use when he’s standing in front of you, alive, breathing and talking and holding your hand, but you can’t stop the flood of emotion; confusion and relief and horror and several other things you can’t put a name to right now.

“Hey,” he coaxes, “look at me.”

You focus your gaze on him, on those soft brown eyes that still blink at you, the rise and fall of his chest.

“I’m okay,” he says softly, wrapping your hand around his wrist, mindful of your scraped knuckles. He positions your fingertips over his pulse, pressing them into the skin so you can feel the gentle beat of his heart. “I’m alive, because you saved me.”

You nod silently, warm tears slipping down your cheeks.

He gathers you into a warm embrace, rubbing your back in soft, soothing motions. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, my darling girl. But the next time something like that happens, you tell me, okay? I don’t care if you wake me up at three in the morning, I want to be there for you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Good.”

You stay like this for a moment, just sitting with him and finding comfort in the warmth of his touch and the steadiness of his breathing.

“Do you want to go to the healers for your hand, or do you want me to wrap it up for you?”

“Want you to do it,” you answer softly, still feeling a little fragile. You don’t want to be away from him, even for a moment; you might work up the courage to ask if you can sleep in his bed tonight.

“Okay.” He presses a kiss to your temple, getting up to pack your bags.

Dain and Sawyer haven’t returned, likely still in Varrish’s office with the unbonded girl. You scribble a quick note to thank them, and to say that you’re done studying for the afternoon, leaving it on top of Dain’s book.

Bodhi picks up your bag, shouldering it along with his own.

He stops to pick up the dagger, sheathing it at his side, and you blink at him, confused. “You’re keeping it?”

“Of course I’m keeping it. It’s a memento of my first assassination attempt.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Only you could be so proud about someone wanting to kill you.”

He pulls you in closer, tucking you under his arm. “Not nearly as proud as I am of you. You should have seen it. I’ve never seen you move that fast in my life.”

Your cheeks warm in embarrassment, suddenly shy. “I was worried I’d lose you,” you say softly.

“You won’t ever lose me,” he soothes. “We made each other a promise, and I intend to keep it.”

“So do I,” you say quietly. “So do I.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You don’t have any more terrible dreams -- visions -- for the rest of the week, just a generalized sense of anxiety and insomnia, waiting for the next one and wondering what it’ll be, what terrible fate may befall one of your friends.

Each day that passes simultaneously soothes your anxiety and stokes it. If you aren’t dreaming of any terrible things, then they won’t happen, but what if you don’t dream them? What if you can’t see harm coming to them in advance, and thus can’t prevent it?

As soon as you enter the gym for Emeterrio’s class, it hits you again; that incredibly strong sense that something very bad is going to happen, very soon.

Bodhi sees your posture change, your normal relaxed and graceful presence tightening uncomfortably, and puts it together immediately, looking at you with concern.

“I have that feeling again,” you manage, forcing down the acid rising in your throat. “But this time, I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

“It’ll be okay,” he soothes.

“You don’t know that,” you reply, still looking around, surveying the gym for anyone that could pose a threat to you or any of your friends, which happens to be every single person in the room.

He takes your hand, and the feeling stops; vanishes completely, as if it was never there. Bodhi’s presence and his gentle touch have always been a comfort to you, often the only comfort you have, but nothing like that has ever happened before, a relief so intense and sudden.

Your gaze snaps to him, eyes widening. “How did you…”

He lets go, and the anxiety and nausea comes back in a tidal wave that nearly knocks you over. He lays a hand on your back to steady you, worried you’ll collapse, and the feeling dissipates again in the blink of an eye. Definitely not a coincidence.

“I think you turned it off,” you whisper. “When you let go, it came back.”

He blinks at you for a few seconds, processing. “Do you think that’s…”

“Laurent and Daneel,” Emeterrio calls.

Oh. That’s what you’re supposed to be worried about.

“Deep breath,” Bodhi prompts.

You inhale as deeply as you can before he moves his hand off of your back, and you aren’t hit with another tidal wave, just a normal, manageable level of anxiety appropriate for someone about to start a challenge match.

But as you step onto the mat, the anxiety fades into… something new. Confidence, like nothing you’ve ever felt before -- like you know you’re going to win this fight, without question, like it’s already been written down in the professor’s gradebook, and carved into history.

Interesting.

You lower your head to your opponent in respectful acknowledgement, getting a snarl in response. Well, then. Maybe this will be harder than you’d thought -- but you still have that unshakeable feeling that you’re going to come out on top.

She makes the first move, a punch that you’re able to dodge easily. She tries again -- and you step to the side without thinking, avoiding the blow by a few inches.

You continue dodging and blocking, reacting naturally, almost subconsciously, not even thinking about your movements.

You feel the same strange feeling you’d felt during the conversation leading up to Bodhi’s would-be assassination; you’d known all the words, knew what was going to happen because you’d seen it in a dream -- only you don’t remember dreaming any of this at all. It had been a total surprise that your name would be called with hers, the intense anxiety you’d felt being the only indicator, and even then, you’d been worried that it would be one of your friends in danger, not yourself.

Very interesting.

A slow smile spreads across your face as you realize exactly what is happening -- this is your signet at work, that familiar hum of power through your veins as you move, keeping you a few seconds ahead of everyone else in the room.

“You’ve had your fun,” Sìoda nudges, sounding amused. “Now end this, and end it well.”

The girl agrees. “Come on, you filthy fucking traitor! Fight me already!”

There’s a collective intake of breath from the quadrant as they wait for you to respond -- every eye in the gym is watching you, even the other cadets that are supposed to be fighting across the room, but you don’t move, don’t react to the comment, preparing for what’s going to happen next.

She hurls a dagger at you, enraged by your lack of engagement in this fight -- and your hand flies up to catch it, your fingers wrapping around the hilt and stopping it in midair.

Silence. Absolute dead silence.

You examine it for a second before you tuck it into your belt, looking back up at her. “Let’s fight, then.”

#bodhi and darling #bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing x reader #mine #fourth wing fanfic

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rue-dixon · 3 months ago

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This panel is on my mind 24/7. I want more context, I want a mini comic from Kui about it so bad. Also it's hilarious how this is the only time we actually see his daughters in the canon manga.

We probably won't get any more context about it since it most likely wasn't a real situation that happened and just an example. But I wrote a short fanfic inspired but it anyways.

Falin adjusted the glowing lantern next to her, making sure she could see the party clearly as she sat up against the cold brick wall. She shivered from the brisk air before pulling the blanket tighter over her shoulders to combat it. Amber eyes grew heavy as they carefully combed over each of her sleeping party members peaceful forms.

Despite all these uncomfortable conditions, she never minded taking watch for her companions. It made her grateful, able to be useful to them. As well as providing them a good night's rest. Shuro's protests of taking her shifts for her began to get tiresome, however, she appreciated his consideration for her wellbeing.

The night went smoothly, no disturbances until rustling from the smallest sleeping bag caught her attention. Curious, Falin sat up, however she was certain it was nothing to be alarmed over. Watching as Chilchuck rolled around in his sleep. Normally, this would not bother her, but something inside her silently told her to keep a watchful eye on the half-foot.  As she did so, she noticed how seemingly innocent shifting turned to restless tossing and turning. Her worry solidified when his steady breaths turned to small whimpers, and his face contorted and scrunched in an unpleasant way.

Nightmares. She thought, this had happened to Shuro the other night as well. The area they were traveling in seemed to be infested with them. No matter, Falin knew how to deal with them easily. Firstly, she crawled over to where her older brother lay asleep. Gently shaking his shoulder, whispering to him.

"Brother... brother... please wake up."

With a soft groan, Laios' eyes fluttered open. Seeing his sister looking worried above him caused him to sit up.

"Falin, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm alright, it's Mr. Chilchuck, he seems to be having nightmare troubles. Will you watch over me while I go into his dreams?"

Laios turned his attention to Chilchuck now, who lay a decent distance away from the group. He was always like that, kept his distance, and kept conversations to business purposes only. Not that anyone minded, his sore attitude about everything didn't make him the easiest to get along with.

"Yeah, sure, of course." Laios stretched, yawning before he sat up. Following his sister to Chilchuck's bedroll.

Falin carried her pillow under her arm, before gently placing it on top of Chilchuck. Moving it long ways so it wouldn't cover his whole body. She laid her head down, but gently and just on the edge of the pillow. Not wanting to put too much weight on his small, relatively thinner body.

"We should be fine, but keep an eye out just in case, okay?" Falin smiled to her brother, her eyes already feeling drowsy.

Laios nodded, "I got it."

Chilchuck began to break out into a sweat. His teeth grinding together as his body trembled. Falin could feel it through the pillow, which only heightened her worries. Saying a small prayer in her mind that would hopefully bless her with the gift of sleep faster, before finally closing her eyes.

 _____

Man, I'm tired, Chilchuck thought to himself. His boots crunched against the gravel path as he walked the short distance from the main road to his house. The last job he had just finished went sour, causing the party composed of majority strong races to storm out on him. Angry that all the chests he had unlocked for them were empty. Claiming he was holding out on them despite having no reason to. What idiots. None of that mattered now, because he was home.

Although the house he was approaching wasn't the home he created with his wife and three children. It was the home he had grown up in, the one where he lived with his two younger brothers, his mother, and his alcoholic father for a short period of time. The place where his older sister and brother would visit once a year with their own children. However, that realization did not make its way to Chilchuck's mind. It was home. Plain and simple.

As he approached the door, he felt his stomach drop as he saw a small heap of blue and white fabric laying on the door step. The front door ajar, and the figure lay halfway in.  The backpack he carried dropped to the floor as he rushed to her side. His wife. He hadn't needed to see her face to know it was her, the black curls that accompanied the soft blue dress was enough evidence.  He called her name, but got no reply in return. Dropping to his knees, he reached to hold her, to see what had happened. The blood seeping from her stomach was pooling around them, staining his hands forever as he demanded what happened.

"No..." her voice raspy as she could barely keep her eyes open to look at him.

"Wh-what? No- what do you mean no?!" His voice was a blend of panic and rage as he spoke. Confused and now angry as she tried to push him away. Chilchuck had always known he wasn't the world's most perfect husband, but he was not cruel enough to warrant any thought from his wife that he might've been the reason she currently lay in a bath of her own blood.

"The girls..." she managed before choking, couching as blood sputtered from her once pink lips. Now drained of color following the rest of her already naturally milky skin. Her body resembling a talking corpse. With a shaky and weakened hand, she lifted her finger to the door.

All at once, everything clicked into place. The girls. My daughters. My babies.

In an instant he was back on his feet, practically tearing the door down with how fast he entered. Looking around, the whole house looked like it had been raided by orc soldiers that had just returned from war. Dread filled Chilchuck, making his chest pained and heavy as he began to search the house. It was not long until he found what he was searching for.

His three daughters, only teenagers by half-foot maturities, lay motionless on the carpet of the common room. Blood painted the walls like a toddler's personal art project. Cracks and chunks from the material itself had somehow gone missing. However, the first thing he noticed about the crime scene, besides the obvious, was the giant ax lodged into the wall above his kin's head. An ax he knew well to belong to one of the dwarfs in the party that had been enraged with him just a few hours before.  Nevertheless, revenge or who the culprit was was not on his mind. With a limped stride, he made his way to them. Shaking, pained breaths wracking through his body. His knees giving out from the shaking, having to force himself to crawl the rest of the way.

Cuts, bruises, gashes, and what looked to be broken bones littered their once flawless, lively bodies. Streams of blood poured from each of their mouths. Flertom had the most blood on her light-colored dress, slowly seeping into the fabric like a sponge, turning it an unsettling scarlet color. Iconic, her favorite color had been deep red since she was a baby.

"Mei... Fler... Puck..." His eyes widen as his voice broke and cracked.

Unable to take all three of them in his arms, he moved them so each of their heads fit nuzzled into his lap. No tears found their way to his eyes, the panic and pain felt like it had halted all bodily functions permanently.

Trembling hands gently caressed their necks and lower jaws. Testing each pulse as he had done with careless adventurers many times before. Never in his life could he have dreamt of using the technique on his own children. Let alone in their own home, when their biggest crime was simply being of his blood. The cause of their horrid deaths being that he loved them, and that people knew how much he loved them.

Dry sobs broke from him as two delicate fingers moved from girl to girl. Ending at the end of the line with Puckpatti, the realization that he felt nothing under the pads of his finger tips settling. Not even with his heightened senses could he feel even the slightest breath of a pulse.

A strangled cry filled the room as he hunched over. His body draping over them like a blanket. As if he were protecting them from the world, something he had failed to do. Failing to do the most basic promise as a father to his children. Clutching at their clothes in fists as if that would somehow ground him.

The love of his life as well as his babies, the most important things in a thousand lifetimes to him, were just stolen from him. All because of some greedy adventurers who didn't like that he had not rained riches upon them. Something that was not even his fault, they were the dimwits who went against his advice and traveled down passages of the dungeons that had been rummaged through hundreds of times over the years since this dungeon had been founded.

As he mourned, a snowy white dove entered from above. Landing on the floor in front of him. Seemingly purposeful about where it chose to stand. Out of the way of any of the blood and gore around them. Chilchuck slowly looked up, his eyes painfully red as he continued to heave. Him and the peaceful bird made eye contact, part of his felt like it was speaking to him. However he didn't understand what exactly it was saying, but when it rose in the air once more, his previous grief seemed to momentarily subside.  Pulling himself to his feet, he felt inclined to follow. With shaky steps, he followed the dove. Reaching out with a limp hand as if asking it to come back. He was not sure why he felt inclined to follow it, his family had just been slaughtered, but here he was chasing a bird like a mindless fool.

Stumbling to keep up, the pretty dove led him out the door. He was so focused on the dove itself he hadn't realized how far they'd gone. Until everything seemed to be melting together around him. Colors mixing together before falling away completely, leaving behind a white void. The white light around him grew brighter and brighter, his skin feeling warm and hyperaware before-

 He woke up. With a heavy gasp, Chilchuck rose. Inhaling sharply, causing him to cough. He hacked as he looked around the dimly lit campsite. The sight of Falin rising as well, after just lying on his stomach, had only confused him more. Beating his chest before finally catching his breath, he cringed as he realized how sweaty he was. Causing his whole body to be locked in a constant chill.

"What-what the hell.." he called coughing, looking to Falin and Laios.

Without a word, Laios reached under Chilchuck's pillow, pulling out a handful of the clam-like dragons known as nightmares. Before tossing them under his shoe and crushing them.

"Nightmares." Laios sighed, "must've slipped in your pillow when you went to grab water."

Chilchuck groaned, his head falling into his hands as he rubbed his temples. Just great. He knew how Falin dealt with nightmares, therefore, he knew she saw what had happened. The idea that this newer party he had recently contracted with now possibly knew of his family did not ease his racing heart in the slightest. Only causing the possibility of his nightmare becoming a reality. Sitting there, taking a moment to catch his breath. Logic quickly settled his mind. All three of his daughters were grown and out on their own. Each far away, living their own lives. As for his wife, she was also long gone. Off to live with Flertom, whether it was a break or a wordless breakup, he still wasn't sure. However, now was most certainly not the time to dwindle over his strained marriage.

"Thanks.." he muttered, refusing to look Falin in the eyes, partly due to his own shame at the forced show of pure vulnerability.

"Of course." Falin smiled her signature, heart melting smile.

 ________

 The group walked down the long hall way. Laios talking Shuro half to death in the front. Namari trailing behind, bickering with Asivia about something Chilchuck didn't bother to tune into.  Him and Falin walked side by side a short way towards the back, now would be a better time than any. He thought to himself before clearing his throat to catch the young woman's attention.

"Uh- Falin?"

Falin looked down at him, "yes?"

A tingling heat already found his cheeks as he looked to the side, trying to ignore it. "Um.. do you remember what you saw in my nightmare last night..?"

She nodded, "somewhat. I remember the massacre, but not many of the details, like the women's features or the home. I am truly sorry you had to endure that. I should have noticed your discomfort sooner."  The sincerity and guilt in her voice only made Chilchuck more uncomfortable. Coughing again, he put on a voice as if to fake some sort of confident authority.

"Uh well. If you could, not discuss what you saw. I would really appreciate it."

Falin stared at him for a moment before smiling again with her pure smile.  "Of course. In fact, consider the incident completely forgotten." She chirped before turning back to the path.

Chilchuck exiled softly, that was easy. However, this was Falin. He hadn't expected less. Now if it were Marcille who had gone into his dream, he thought he'd rather deal with the entire dream by himself and gladly let the clam feast upon his fears. Honestly, if he were forced to share that scaring mental image with anyone in this particular party, he would've chosen Falin anyway. He believed her words she had spoke to him a moment ago, she would not tell another soul. It seemed even if she did so, it wouldn't be much help to use against him anyway. Relaxing, in a more contempt state now, he couldn't help but still feel a small pang in his heart. Despite how awful the nightmare was, it had made him realize something about himself. Working nonstop constantly, he never really had moments to himself. Which never gave him a clear moment to think about just how much he missed them.

#dungeon meshi #chilchuck #delicious in dungeon #chilchuck tims #chilchuk dungeon meshi #chilchack #chilchuck's wife #dunmeshi #meijack #flertom #puckpatti #meijack chils #flertom chils #puckpatti chils #dadchuck #falin touden #laios touden

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factual-fantasy · 6 months ago

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30 Asks! Thank you!! :)) 🦒

I have developed a few backstory ideas for almost all the characters, I could talk a bit about those at least! :000

First, Home. (Wally's house) Home is supposed to be a living entity with unknown intentions.. so far I haven't planned out any major ways that it interacts with anyone. Other than it watching Wally sleep at night.. the feeling is so intense and disturbing that he constantly wakes up feeling anxious..

Speaking of Wally, he's supposed to be this genuinely innocent friend of the neighborhood and he has no idea that his house is alive. Wally thinks that he just has some kind of sleeping and anxiety issues which is why he keeps waking up at night feeling afraid and uncomfortable. That's also why I always draw him with bags under his eyes and my explanation for why he talks the way he does. <XDD The poor guy cant get a good night sleep! Sometimes when his "anxiety" gets really bad he'll go crash at Barnaby's house for a night or two. For some reason he feels a lot safer there..

Speaking of Barnaby, I haven't thought too much about his backstory. But I like the idea that he's a lot like sans. XDD By that I mean he's a goofy guy but there's a lot more too his character and he's a lot more intelligent than people think he is. Barnaby is actually very aware of what's going on around him. He's the first to know when one of his neighbors isn't doing well and the first to figure out what's bothering them. Even if he's not close friends with them.

Also tacking on a last minute note on Barnaby- I like think Barnaby has lived in the neighborhood for a very long time. If not the longest. He was there to see Howdy open shop and saw Julie, Sally and Frank all move in. He was the first neighbor everyone became acquainted with and he always made everyone feel right at home. Barnaby is so friend shaped 🥺💞💞

Next is Julie. I haven't done the best job at showing it when I draw her.. but Julie is intended to kiiind'a be an amalgamation of all the neighbors. What I mean by this, is her and her sisters are naturally these huge horrible looking beasts that live in the woods. But Julie was able to slowly transform herself and modify her appearance to look more.. friendly! So that she could become a resident of the neighborhood and not scare anyone away <XDD

How she did this is she just studied the neighbors from the bushes and modeled her appearance after them. Long eye lashes like Poppy, Different colored nose like Howdy,, and since she never saw anyone else bare foot.. Little feet paws like Barnaby <XDD She kind'a kicks herself for that one. Turns out the people she was trying to mimic the most, Wally and Eddie, don't have paws for feet- But that's alright. No one really questions it!

Now Eddie is the usual interpretation I think. He was originally a real human but now he's a neighbor with no memory of who he once was.. he doesn't really remember his childhood or where he came from. He's also just generally forgetful. 😅 The only thing he consistently does right is get everyone's mail delivered right on time!

I have ideas of him having hallucinations, strange dreams or even fainting spells when he encounters something significant from his past life. I considered one of the triggers for his spells could be imagery of an orange cat. Maybe he had one as a pet in his original life? If he ever encountered one and then fainted.. he might just start telling the neighbors that he's allergic to cats.. <XD idk, I haven't fully thought that all through yet XDD

Sally is the last I'll comment on. Her story keeps changing up but I have solid ideas for her biology.

I want her to be an actual celestial being of some kind. I imagined her being a glowing star child that is always warm to the touch. She can control/dim her light pretty significantly but she can never fully go dark. So she's hard to sleep near during sleep overs <XDD

Speaking of sleep overs, I actually imagined that she doesn't need to sleep! Perhaps its like the gems from Steven Universe. She can sleep if she wants to but she doesn't need to by any means. She gets all her energy from what she eats! I also pictured her wearing what ever she wants year round! She absolutely thrives in the sunlight and her body is much stronger than the cold around her. So she can wear shorts in the winter and sweaters in the summer all she wants! Lucky gal.. <XDD

I have some ideas for the other neighbors, but this is already a wall of text. Maybe next time <XDD

Perhaps I should go back sometime and draw these guys again :00 At least get around to redesigning Sally and Julie, it could be fun! :}}

XDDD AAAA IDK!! Its been a while since I've thought about him! XDD

Hmm let me think... well, He's a loyal and devoted servant of the king and his family. Almost to the extent you'd wonder if he's been brainwashed or cursed..

I've haven't thought too much about his backstory or how he came to be in the position of power that he's in.. But I do have some ideas floating around for how me may interact with some of the Koopalings. :00

The main idea I had in mind was Morton coming to him and voicing and insecurity of some kind, putting himself down in the process. perhaps he said it absentmindedly.. but Commander was quick to defend him, bowing at his feet "Who dared to speak to my Lord in this way? With your command, I shall have their head!" Upon explaining that no, no one said that to him.. he just feels that way.. Commander has a talk with him that boosts his confidence. Not sure what exactly the insecurity could be.. perhaps Mortons appearance? <:0

(In response to this post)

Aww! I love those names!! :DD Though I don't know if its just me, but I feel like the names should be swapped? <XD Idk- the plup roly poly feels more like a Bernard than a Diego to me. But I totally agree withy them having Tea on Tuesdays! XDD I'm glad you like them! :))

@silly-creetur

<XDD Sorry you had to scroll so far to find Octonauts- but I'm glad you liked what you saw! :))

@lolzwaitwhat (Love your username XDD)

They will be forever confused yet grateful. 🥺🥺💞💞💞

I'm still open for suggestions! And I don't get as many as people seem to think I do.. 😅 also thank you! I'll do my best! <XD

(Referencing this post)

:DDD THANK YOU!!

As for the canvas size, yeahh, for the pixel stuff the canvas's are absolutely tiny. That first dragon drawing is on like a 300-300 canvas. If I were to post it as is it would be really small if you tried to view it. Soooo I just copy/pasted and blew the image up to like 800/800. Its a lil blurry but that's okay <XDD

@aria-the-derg

XDD Thank you! Man its been years since I've done an OC trade..

@thesunbun

XDDD THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DDDD

@clownaroundtowne

Oh wow.. neotony.. that's so interesting! I learned something new today! :00 And yeah! Perhaps it could be! :0000

*snimfle...* ..am I weewy yow favowite? 🥹💞💞💞 fank you!!

AAAA THANK YOU SO MCUH!!!! :DDD AND YES IT DID MAKE ME SMILE!! :}}}}

Its cool to hear that you wanna try FireAlpaca! Though I warn you, it can be a but buggy/wonky at times! <XDD It takes some time to learn how to work around its quirks <XD

I have not heard of it, no.. but upon Googling it, I love the art style! :))

@astaherussy

Do I like Jax? Personally I think he's pretty funny, but he's hard to like because he's such a jerk. <XD Although I'm not totally set in my opinions on him. I know there's a lot of angst going on behind the scenes that probably helps to explain his behavior.. I'm sure once we see that backstory- if we ever do, I'll like him a lot more :))

My opinion on the FNAF movie is it wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. :00 My favorite parts were the inclusion/intended inclusion of MatPat, Markiplier and other Youtubers. I also FLIPPED OUT when Bonnie was the first to move. Just like the game! And it recreated that initial horror so well XDD Overall I'd say 7/10, WOULD watch it again! :))

My FNAF AU has been shelved hard. 😔 I've been battling health problems for almost a year now. I don't have the strength to comfortably sit at my desktop PC long enough to work on those comics right now.. All these recent posts of mine have been drawn from the couch on this old laptop, where I don't have access to any of my FNAF stuff from my main PC.. its been rough man. 😔

The cookie crew is doing well! I've actually been thinking about drawing them again soon.. 👀

The Factual fam is the same! Doing great, thinking I might draw them again soon! :))

Awe, thank you!! I've thought about making some kind of merchandise on and off. Since all these medical expenses are really starting to stack up.. so its really encouraging to hear that some folks would be interested! <:}}}

Oh boy have I. <XDD Ya'll were right, my heart was NOT ready for Appa's episode 🥺💔💔💔 I already have something angsty in mind for that but I'm having trouble with trying to make that comic..

I'm looking for an opportunity where Aang, Appa and the gang are all back together and traveling like usual. Then when they set up camp for the day is where the angst will strike- but it seems like right after they got Appa back the gang split up..

Soo I'm just continuing to watch for now. Perhaps the angst I have in mind will occur later? Or perhaps the perfect gap in time I'm waiting for is only a few episodes away. Who knows <XDD

@socherryblossomstrawberry

XDD Noooo!! Why do that??

XDD THANK YOU!! I'm glad you think so! :))

I haven't drawn much for it yet because Its a little challenging for me to draw fanart the way I want to for series that have a linear story.. if that makes any sense-

Shows like SpongeBob or series likeeee.... Welcome home? Things where its more of "a day in the life of" type deal. I can draw fanart and funny scenarios for those a lot easier. Where as with Avatar I'm still kind'a waiting for the perfect gap in the story where I can draw goofy group shenanigans without thinking "Oh wait they'd be dealing with this plot point during this comic..." does that make sense?? <XDD

@coolguyoninternet

:0... huh?

🫠Not really- but I'm hoping this is all over soon <:)

@dummdummdummy

<XDD I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with those names- the osc fandom..?

@mimiocto

Fank you 😌

@olives-in-shadows

I'm hanging in there as best I can 🫠🫠🫠

When he said "Well, how did I get here?" I felt that 💔

@anikakitty11

Oh my goodness I love this beautiful puppo 🥺🥺🥺

@tallchest13-blog (Link to document)

THIS IS SO COOL WHAT???

@chimerathekid (Image is from this post)

XDDD That's how I like to interpret him at least! XDD

@invaderdrey

Ah yes! The mystery dungeon games!! :DD Someone told me about those games and the key to getting Grim to mega evolve! The empowerment seed!! :DD

I was gonna make a comic about it, buuuut after sketching it all? It came out to like 4 parts and 80 canvases. With 3-6 drawings per canvas. Soooo I might not get around to finishing that... 😅

@minnesotamedic186 (In response to this ask post)

😔

@mason-gaylord

I don't know if my Gengar in game has that trait or not- but it looks like it wouldn't be too much of a bother! :0 Google seems to say that it only has a 30% chance of disabling attacks that hurt the user. So as long as none of Grim's friends decide to fight him it shouldn't effect them XDD

#my response #welcome home #super mario bros #my ocs #pokemon scarlet and violet #gengar #fnaf security breach #fnaf movie #the amazing digital circus #avatar the last airbender

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haru-natsuka · 10 months ago

Text

The Unending Daze Extra (Malleus Draconia x Wife Reader x Ace Trappola)

This is not a continuation from the main story, more like a side story of one of your day with Malleus and family

*Chapter start from below trailer*

>> Trailer <<

"My darling wife, the joy you have brought me throughout the years is without compare. Our children are fortunate to have been gifted with such a loving and caring mother as you,"

Malleus spoke with affection, his voice like honeyed words that melted the hearts of everyone that heard it. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

But just as you were getting used to this blissful scene, your old friend, Ace arrived in an unexpected turn of events. He claimed that he was your husband, which left you perplexed and bewildered.

"Wait a minute, that's not right! I'm your real husband! He's just trying to manipulate you with a dream. Wake up, now! Our children need you! I need you, Y/N!"

You were unsure how to proceed, caught in the middle of a confusing situation. In this situation, you feel conflicted and uncertain about whether your old friend or your darling husband had spoken the truth

>> EXTRA <<

Your mind felt hazy and unfocused, as you become increasingly unaware of your surroundings, as your mind started to feel more and more blank and detached from reality. You had a feeling of confusion and uncertainty, as you felt like you were forgetting something but could not seem to figure out what it was. Your thoughts seem to be scattered and unfocussed, as you attempt to make sense of your feelings and thoughts, and try to determine exactly what it was that you are forgetting. Something that you held dear in your heart.

A sudden cooing sound shattered your trance, and you found in your arms, there was a baby. The feelings of confusion and uncertainty disappear immediately as a motherly thought comes rushing into your head. The baby stirred softly in your arms, letting out a sweet and adorable cooing sound, causing a deep sense of warmth and love to overwhelm you. You began playing and cooing to the baby in your arms, which seems to have triggered a sudden desire to care and protect this small, innocent life in your hands. Slowly, your surrounding came into view.

As you stared at the baby in your arms, Malleus whispered tenderly in your ear. "Our baby is so beautiful," he says lovingly, "she looks just like you. She has your eyes, nose, and mouth." Your husband wrapped his hands around your waist from behind, pulling you gently closer to him, and kissed the top of your head affectionately. As usual, he showered you with a lot of love and care. How could you secure yourself a husband like Malleus?

"Now, we must hire a guard for our precious daughter. Levan and Marcellus keep disturbing Lilia and Sebek all the time, so they are too occupied to take care of her. How about we hire Sil…" You felt like the word you were trying to pronounce had suddenly become lost from your mind, making it impossible to continue speaking. Malleus noticed this, in response, his grip on your body tightened a bit too much as he kissed your nape gently. His lips still pressed against your neck as he tried to divert your focus.

"The matters of hiring a bodyguard can wait until later. I will take care of that. You don't need to worry, my darling wife."

As you tried to focus your mind and recalled what you were forgetting beforehand, the bed shook and jolted repeatedly due to the sudden, frantic movements of your two kids. Levan and Marcellus were attempting to climb onto the bed with their small, tiny feet and arms, their faces filled with joy and excitement as they tried to get to their younger sister.

"We want to meet our younger sister!" Levan and Marcellus both shouted, their voices filled with excitement and enthusiasm. They were eager to see their new baby sister, and they were eager to interact with her and play with her.

Malleus's tone of voice instantly shifted to one of sternness and severity, as he spoke to his two kids. "Levan, Marcellus," he said firmly and resolutely, "Both of you should be sleeping now. What are you doing here still wide awake?"

The two boys looked up at their father, their eyes filled with innocence and pure joy. "We want to meet our younger sister!" they replied excitedly and cheerfully, repeating their previous statement.

"Come on kids, it's late. You can meet your baby sister in the morning. Let's go to bed now," Malleus said in a much kinder tone, as he gently pulled your two kids off the bed.

"Mama! Help!" Marcellus called to you as Malleus tried to pull both him and his brother off the bed. Malleus was attempting to get them into bed to make sure they get some sleep, but Marcellus was apparently trying to get away from his father and hide behind you.

"You really want to meet your sister that much?" Malleus asked his kids, who both nod their heads enthusiastically. "Yes! She's so adorable. We want to see her! Plus her horn is cute too!" Levan replied, with Marcellus nodding his head furiously.

"Don't you both already play with Malyssa this morning?" You asked both of your sons, to which they both nod their heads enthusiastically. "Yes, we did!" Levan said. "But we played with her only for a few minutes! That's not enough! We want to play with her some more!"

"My sons, you two played with her for hours," you said, trying to reason with Marcellus and Levan. They both looked a little guilty, as they realised that they had been trying to justify the fact that they want more time with their little sister. "I know, but…" Levan started to speak dejectedly.

"But if you two want to see your younger sister, mama will not prevent that if you only want to say goodnight. Wake up early and play with her, alright?" You promised them, and they both smile brightly at your words, clearly delighted with the compromise.

"We will. We promise," Levan said, as Marcellus nodded his head enthusiastically behind him, the both of them happy with the compromise. They both seemed content with the decision, and both promised to wake up early in the morning so they could spend more time with their newborn baby sister.

Levan and Marcellus both eagerly went closer in order to see their baby sister in your arms, their eyes filled with delight and excitement.

They both begun to poke her cheeks, to which the baby responded by giggling and laughing in an adorable way. Levan snuggled towards her tightly, burying his faces into her in order to smell her soft and baby scent.

"Aww, she smells so good," Levan said softly.

Marcellus suddenly spoke up, seeming a little jealous for his little sister's attention. "Brother, I want to snuggle with her too." Levan immediately looked a little annoyed, as he did not like to share his baby sister. He frowned and pushed Marcellus away, moving closer to the baby and snuggling her tighter to himself.

The two siblings immediately started to fight over the baby, as Marcellus tried to push his brother away in order to claim her for himself. Before the fight could escalate further, Malleus immediately separated the two boys, as he didn't want them to get into a full on brawl over their baby sister. Malleus gently lifted both Levan and Marcellus apart, as he tried to break up their fight.

"Boys, we don't solve our issues by fighting," Malleus said sternly.

"You both will get to spend time with your little sister tomorrow morning, okay? We'll all be happy with her. But tonight, let's just sleep so we can have a good rest."

"Plus mama and Malyssa are both mine," Malleus smirked at his sons, who both looked a bit disappointed by his statement.

"Aww, no fair!" Levan and Marcellus protested in unison, not liking the fact that their father is claiming their mother and younger sister all for himself.

"I'm the one who created you guys, so everything belongs to me," Malleus said teasingly, but with a hint of a menacing undertone in his voice that caught you off guard. His words made you flinch involuntarily, as you felt slightly uneasy with the way he said it. The two sons both seemed to treat their dad's comment as though it was nothing but a harmless joke, and they both laughed along with the banter.

"Yes," Levan giggled, "You are our papa, right?" Marcellus nodded his head eagerly, giggling as well, as he seemed to be having a good time as well.

You quickly caught a glimpse of your husband's expression, which was showing an uneasy and menacing side to his demeanor, as he continued to tease and banter with his two sons.

You had the feeling that he was getting too riled up by their banter, and that you needed to intervene before the situation became even more intense and unpleasant.

"Alright, that's enough. Both of you need to sleep now." You gently but firmly said. The two boys both looked a bit disappointed for a moment and they exchanged a disapproving glance, but they eventually gave in and nodded their heads, as they realized you were serious.

As you want to get off the bed to send your sons to their bedroom, Malleus quickly caught your wrist before you could move.

He did not make any hostile or violent movement, but his grip was firm and he didn't seem inclined to let you go, a slight edge in his tone as he spoke.

"I will send them to their room. You stay here, my darling wife," Malleus's tone of voice was still playful, but his grip on your wrists had become tighter, and there was a subtle but perceptible warning in his voice, as he told you to stay right there. Malleus's look was filled with love, as he softly kissed you on your lips, his lips lingering for just a bit longer than necessary.

"Making them sleep might take a while," he said, "so you need to be good and stay right here. I will be back soon and when I am, we can enjoy ourselves for the whole night."

Your mind was still spinning from the intense feeling of affectionate romance that his kiss, as both of your sons thankfully already exited the room before they could get their eyes stuck on this steamy romance.

Malleus quickly got off the bed and left the room, quickly turning off the light as he went to send your sons off to sleep. Now you and your baby are left alone in the bedroom, and you could see its dark shadows cast upon you both. It was a quiet and peaceful time, just the two of you together.

@d3sperate-enuf

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brilyyy · 8 months ago

Text

Romance (Alastor x Angel Dust) 3/3

Hello there! 👋

Sorry for the delay, this truly took longer to write than I anticipated and then life happened. Hopefully this is worth the wait for you, I really enjoyed writing it! Again, I'm sorry Angel, its not my fault Alastor is deranged, ily.

Thanks for your interest in my fic, please enjoy!

Story warnings - disturbing imagery, horror

Softly, as if floating across his cheek on a cool summer breeze, “Anthony….” The voice drifted in and out, far away, “Anthony wake up…” it faded.

A forgotten dream pulled Angel from the nothingness he’d been bathed in, a woman he didn’t know giggling and chiding him for sleeping, just a bit more he thought, his body numb to any request for movement. The voice giggled in his mind again, Angel’s eyes cracked open ever so slightly. Who was that? A soft voice, pulling at him from somewhere deep in his memories. He could feel the air around him was cold and damp, but still, and it was dark now from what he could see. He didn’t know if he was alone, but he couldn’t feel his body either so what did it matter? Each breath was fought for and ragged, a strained exhale his only reprieve from the pain. Angel closed his eyes again, he was already so tired from keeping them open as long as he had… Even if there was someone there, he didn’t have the strength to go to them, or fight them off if they wanted to hurt him.

“Anthonyyyy, come on, we’re going to be late silly!” The voice pulled at him again. It was familiar, but he couldn’t place it… eyes closed he began to drift back to the black unconsciousness, it was warm there and he didn’t hurt. Just a little longer he thought as he began to drift back into the darkness, his choppy, pained breaths becoming further and further apart.

“ANTHONY!!” The voice screamed, and suddenly Angel knew exactly who it was, he’d always hated hearing her scream. Eyes snapping open he sat up as quickly as he could, his body aching, a sharp pain in his chest stabbing with every breath he took, head spinning from all of the abuse he’d endured. His eyes slipped in and out of focus, the dark only making it harder to see, the ringing in his ears dulled only by the pounding of his head. He sat up as best he could and looked around. Although he couldn’t see the creature that had chased him there, he knew it was still out there somewhere, but he needed to find her, that’s all he cared about now.

“M-Molly?” Angel croaked out weakly, he hadn’t said her name out loud in so many years, the word alone sent a flood of emotions rushing through his already scattered mind. He strained to hear a response. His eyes welled with tears, “MOLLY!!” He cried again, desperation in his scream, please, he thought, please let it be her, let this be real. Nothing, and then from behind him, “ANTHONY!!” Angel whipped around and stared at the figure at the edge of the willows cover, eyes straining to focus on the figure in the dark.

Angel squinted hard and suddenly gasped. It was her.

Molly was there, peering at him through the curtain of leaves eyes wide and glossy.

His breath caught in his throat.

She gasped softly as their eyes met, “It’s you!” She cheered, relief and joy flooding her face as she ran to him. Angel locked eyes with his sister, and for the moment he couldn’t breathe. Painfully he clambered to his feet and moved as quickly as he could to her, the aching fire shooting through his entire body be damned. He reached out for her expecting to touch nothing, for it all to be a sick illusion, but when her arms wrapped around his waist and held him tightly, he began to shake and sob, throwing his arms around her, eyes wide in bewilderment. “It’s really you!” She sobbed into his chest, her two sets of arms wrapped fully around Angel’s thin frame.

“Oh Anthony, I’ve been so scared! I thought something had happened to you! I couldn’t find you and -” Molly sobbed into his chest, her words muffled and hard to understand through her crying, but Angel was frozen. He could barely understand what was happening. It was her, she was here, in his arms. The thought was too much for him and his head spun, legs giving out he fell into her lithe frame, “Anthony!” Molly cried as they both fell to their knees, Angel’s head foggy, ears ringing. He couldn’t even process why or how she was here. She hugged Angel again while chattering about something and pulled away, now fussing over his cuts and scrapes but he couldn’t hear anything save for the ringing in his ears.

“Molly?” He looked at her and stared into her glossy pink eyes, afraid to breathe, “Is this real? Are you… Are you real?” His voice was like a whisper, raspy and emotional. If this was a dream he didn’t want to scare himself awake with the question.

She looked different than when he last saw her, obviously she didn’t look like a fluffy white spider before, but he knew it was her, he could feel it, they were twins after all. She’d always had the biggest, most expressive eyes, always able to find his real thoughts and feelings no matter how well he thought he’d hid them. She stared at him for a moment. Here in the forest, her doe like eyes were wide, searching his face, but then she smiled warmly and grabbed his hand, bringing it to her face and resting his palm to her cheek. Her eyes brimmed with tears, taking a shuddering breath, a tear dripped down her fuzzy cheek and she let out a small huff of a laugh, “Of course I’m real, don’t I feel real to you?” Angel felt her cheek, she was warm and soft, and here and real. She looked just as he remembered her, before she… Before he…

Another wave of emotion hit Angel and he gasped, his body shivered with remorse, tears rolled from his tired eyes down his stained and bloodied cheeks and he lunged at her, wrapping her fully in all six arms and pulling her tightly to him.

“I’m so sorry Molly! I never shoulda left you! I-I,” he gasped “I shoulda never let you go alone, I should *hic* I shoulda left with you or made you stay I-, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” He sobbed into her hair, body wracked with sorrow and guilt. Losing her had destroyed him, the sadness sending him into a downward spiral he would never recover from “I should have never let you go alone, It’s all my fault, I’m so sorry Molly.” He pressed his cheek hard against hers, holding her tight, desperate and unwilling to ever let her go again.

Molly’s eyes red with tears wrenched closed as she hugged Angel tighter and wept. “Oh Anthony, shhhh,” She cooed as she brushed through Angel’s hair with her fingers, rocking him back and forth while rubbing his back, “It wasn’t your fault,” She whispered as she placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, “I’m here now, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

They held each other and sobbed underneath the cover of the willow in the darkness, neither one willing to be the first to let go.

After a long while, both of them caught their breath and their cries turned to sniffles, slowly releasing their tight hold on the other. Angel took a pair of Molly’s hands in his, he never thought he would see her again, not after she had died. Turning her hand over in his, Angel found the scar on her left thumb from when he had fallen out of a tree and she had cut herself catching him before he fell to the ground. He’d been horsing around and lost his balance, but she had been there and cut her hand against the sharp tree bark as she held onto him, crying only because she was scared for her brother. The memory was so clear, but he scowled, I’ve always let her down… He shook his head and swallowed hard as he stared at her hands in his, “What are you doing here? You shouldn’ be here.”

“Pfft, I don’ even know where here is!” Molly chirped.

“No, but you shouldn’ be where I am,” Angel laughed wryly “You should be in the good place, not here.”

Molly looked confused but just shrugged. “I was walkin home from the bar and cut through the woods. I ran into Richie, he was walkin me home… I don’t remember much after that, but after….” Molly trailed off, but Angel knew exactly what she was saying. He clenched his jaw, fist shaking in white knuckled rage, after Richie fuckin killed her. “I woke up and I was here. I’ve been lookin for you or someone, anyone,” She twisted her other pair of hands in her lap, picking at her fingers nervously and staring at the ground “I’ve been so lost and scared, and then there was this… thing….” She paused and Angel could feel her shaking through her hands. “You saw it?” He asked, Molly gasped and looked up at Angel “You saw it too? Oh Anthony it was awful! I’ve been running and trying to find my way out of here, but its so dark and nothing makes sense,” Angel pulled her into another fierce hug, she trembled in his arms but he held her tight. “It’s okay Molly, I’m never going to leave you again, okay?” I’m not going to be useless this time, he thought.

She pulled back and smiled sadly at him, wiping a tear from her eye, “Promise?”

Angel held her shoulders firmly with one set of hands and her face in his other “I promise Molly, I won’t let anything hurt you ever again.”

Molly beamed up at him through her tears, god it had been so long since he’d seen that smile. She always had the brightest smile, it never failed to cheer him up when he was down, and now it was like a salve on every wound he’d ever had. He studied her face and began to inspect the rest of her - she was just as ripped up and dirty as he was, though it looked like she had better luck keeping her face away from anything sharp, save for a single cut across her left cheek. He had no idea how she had gotten trapped down here but he was going to give his life if it meant getting her out of here. “Oh!” She gasped suddenly, “Here…” she turned around and dug through a bag that Angel just now noticed. After a moment she produced a water bottle, and unscrewing the top, handed it to Angel “Drink up, you look terrible.” He chuckled and grabbed the bottle “Thanks Molls, where would I be without you?”

“Pfft, here.” She waved a hand around her at the forest and cocked a smile at Angel. He smiled and laughed as she giggled, he’d missed this. Missed her. He stared at their hands and rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. She covered her hand on top of his and smiled warmly, she reached out and ruffled his hair and he feigned annoyance, he’d missed that too.

Angel took another drink from the bottle when he heard something. It was faint, barely audible, but over the ringing in his ears he swore that he’d heard something from the forest… music? Angel lowered the bottle and looked around, then looked at Molly. She was sitting still, wide eyes locked into the distance where Angel had heard the noise, “Did you hear that?” She whispered.

“You heard it too?” Angel strained to hear more, but it was too far away, he only caught a stray note here and there. The ringing in his ears made his head ache the more he strained to hear and he winced in pain. Molly nodded and stood up, eyes still locked on the tree line, “I’ve never heard it before….Maybe it’s someone who can help us!” She turned and looked at Angel, a hopeful cheer cutting through the dirt and exhaustion on her face. Angel stared at her for a minute then back at the place where the music was coming from. What if it was a trap? What if that creature was luring them out so that it could rip them apart? It had been right on top of him, screaming that it knew where he was, taunting that it could reach him at any time, the rancid cries ringing deafening in the air…

“What if that thing is still out there?” He shivered, not wanting to push their luck. He knew they couldn’t stay but he didn’t trust the music, he couldn’t risk losing her again. Molly stood for a long while staring into the woods, then turned to Angel and grabbed his hand, pulling lightly to get his attention. His eyes quickly met hers, he hadn’t noticed he was trembling until she grabbed the sides of his arms and gave them a small but firm squeeze. She smiled kindly at him and his heart skipped a beat.

“We gotta try, right Anthony?” She looked at her brother, eyes soft but hopeful, the same look she used to give him when they were kids. He was always a worrier when it came to Molly and now this? It was his job to protect her so he always erred on the side of caution when she was concerned, but she was usually right when it came to making decisions, and Angel knew they couldn’t stay there forever. Locking eyes with her he smiled back and braced himself to stand, legs shaking like a newborn. Taking as deep a breath as he could, Molly pulled him up and wrapped his arm around her shoulder, snaking her arm around his waist to help support him. The stabbing pain in his chest worsened and he gasped, he was pretty sure he’d broken several ribs now, and at least two in different places were threateningly close to piercing his lungs, but he steadied himself against Molly’s small frame and resolved to ignore his body’s cries of anguish for as long as he could.

She looked at him with great concern, eyes searching his face again to see how she could help, but there was nothing she could do now and they both knew it. “Ready?” She chirped with genuine optimism, securing her bag over her free shoulder and smiling at him. Angel looked into her pink eyes and smiled back, his body was throbbing and even standing felt like torture, but as long as she was here, he would try, for her. “As I’ll ever be.”

Slowly they walked to the edge of the willow’s protection and Molly reached out with a free hand to part the curtain of leaves. She peaked out into the darkness and looked around. From what Angel could see it was pitch black, no longer the bright vaguely green sky, now just unnerving darkness surrounded them. It was dead silent, no chirping or hum of insects, no gentle coos of night time birds. Though it was unsettling, there was also no sign that the beast was still there, only gouges in the earth showing it had once been. Angel shivered at the memory of the creature, but resolved to be strong for her.

“I think we’re okay,” Molly spoke quietly, “but it’s so dark out…” her voice trailed off, she had always been afraid of the dark, and this was no normal dark. Angel squeezed her waist where he was holding for support and she turned to look at him. Smiling, he opened his mouth to speak, but the jazz drifting through the air caught both of their attention and he paused. It was still faint, but hearing it again renewed their resolve and Angel could feel Molly take a deep breath. Letting it out she turned to Angel with a small smile and nodded. Turning to the woods once more, she stepped out into the dark forest, Angel limping bravely by her side.

—

The pair ambled through the darkness and reminisced for what seemed like hours over what felt like miles of endless, uncaring forest. At some point, over the rivers of twisted roots and slick rocks begging to catch their feet, the trees had begun to space out, now larger, more gnarled and sinister looking than before. Instead of the more tightly packed evergreens reaching far above, they now walked among larger gaps in thick towering trees, trunks twisting and reaching at strange angles, wide arms overhead, long finger-like branches fanning against the sky. Thick branches held up draping curtains of wide canopy, vines falling from the large overhead supports that held up the scattering lacework of leaves. If there was any moon out tonight, you would have seen its light dappled through the intricate patterns of foliage, but now, it only served as a beautiful background to the dolls scattered hanging amongst the branches, watching over the two as they stumbled through the brush.

Angel and Molly had been resting, braced against one of these trees for what felt like the hundredth time over the past few hours. The two had tripped over many twisted, vine like roots sprawled over the forest floor, the cover of heavy, bone chilling fog making them impossible to see and avoid. It was just as well, Angel had decided. Early in this new terrain he had tripped over a root and was sent tumbling to the ground, coughing violently as he fell. He had braced himself and caught his breath against the earth, but noticed a squirming, writhing tickle against his fingertips as he panted. Slowly opening his eyes, Angel had examined the fog and realized that underneath its smooth curls of drifting air, it looked like it was moving.

A deep sickness had run through Angel and with a defeated tear in his eye he blew a small puff of air to clear the fog from his hands. He had wept pitifully, tears streaming down his face in endless sorrow and defeat when he saw that the ground he was resting on was a rug of millions of wriggling worms, millipedes, spiders and other endless bugs, climbing and scrambling over one another in a hurried, writhing mess of knots across the forest floor, all moving hurriedly away from the direction they were going. He sobbed in horror at the realization and sensation, Molly grasping at him to try and calm his cries of distress, when a sharp chirping of birds cut through the stillness of the sky. The sharp cries of the birds sounded metallic and eerie, fake and louder than ever before like a warning. Molly had dragged him to his feet, away from the writhing floor and held him close, whispering soothing things into his hair to calm him. She had held his face in a pair of hands and held his hands in her other and managed to calm him down with some deep breathing, but the horror of that moment made them both check their shoes and pants before they set back out again.

He was now so disoriented from what was surely a concussion and the ringing in his ears was driving him more than a little insane. His body throbbed and ached so deeply, but they were making progress, the jazz was getting louder.

Several times through their hours long trek he had slipped and twice had managed to pull Molly down with him as he fell. The second time he hit the ground he fell into a violent coughing spell. As he hacked into his fist, Angel could tell that he was coughing up blood. Though it was dark, he could feel the sticky wetness on his hand as he coughed and shuddered. Quickly he wiped his hand off as best he could before his sister could see. Molly immediately had given him the water bottle again and rubbed his back, offering soothing words to calm him. Angel shivered with the sickness he felt running up through his stomach, it was long since empty, but now beginning to fill with his own blood and it was making him sick. He could taste the metallic richness at the back of his throat and from the corners of his mouth, the constant coughing and swallowing was making him more nauseous as time went on. The idea almost caused him to retch, but he had to keep it together, and settled for another weakening coughing fit.

“Anthony…. Look!” Molly stilled her soothing ministrations and whispered, her voice so small with disbelief. Angel looked up, panting and squinting through the dark trees he saw what she was looking at - a light coming from a small cabin. A log house nestled in a small alcove surrounded by trees, distant, but not very far from where they were. The roof was a little slanted and the logs forming the walls were dark with age, but the windows glowed with the promise of a fire and the jazz they had followed through the trees drifted warmly out of the window. Angel stared for a long moment then turned again to Molly, she had been putting on a brave face but he could tell how tired she was. She shivered in the cold air, and even if he was suspicious of the cabin, he knew she needed rest. He himself was in no condition to keep moving. He knew that it was only a matter of time before his injuries caught up with him, and he needed to make sure that she was at least safe before anything worse happened to him. At least here they would be safe from that thing, even if that house did give him the creeps. Still, everything, all of this felt off and scared him more than it brought comfort.

“Molly… I don’t know….” Angel started, but she cut him off “Come on Anthony, maybe they can help us! Besides, don’t you smell that?” She looked at him and then back to the cabin. Angel took as deep a breath as he could: food. He could smell food. Just the distant scent sent his mind reeling and his stomach growled deep and painfully, a cavern inside of him aching for something other than blood. He could feel his mouth watering at just the idea of eating, and he knew that if he felt this way, Molly felt it more, he had no idea how long she had been lost in the woods before he arrived or even how long he’d been here. Angel turned to his sister and looked deep into her pleading eyes, “Okay, we’ll check it out, but we leave if even one thing is weird, got it?” Molly smiled warmly at him and squeezed his hand, kissing his cheek, “got it!”

They managed down the slippery hill that the cabin was settled beneath, tucked between two towering trees at the end of a small clearing, set a bit away from the rest of the dense tree line. It was hard to see anything through the dark night and the dense fog, but Angel could see the light of a fire dancing through the windows. Like moths to a flame the pair stumbled closer, the jazz filling the air now, a gentle trumpet melody welcoming them, the smell of the food enticing them to push further. They crossed the small stream that ran near the front of the house, eyes glued to the refuge.

His eyes scanned the tree line surrounding them looking for the creature, but he couldn’t see anything, save for a nearby stump with an axe wedged into it. They passed near it as Molly quickly but cautiously pulled them to the porch that surrounded the perimeter of the house. He couldn’t see much of the axe, or what was left over on the ground behind the stump, but just the outline of something slumped against the black night sent a shiver down his spine. He turned back to the cabin and surrounding trees, scared to trust the warmth they sought.

“Almost there,” Molly whispered, she helped him up the small steps onto the porch and after helping Angel find purchase on a nearby post, moved quietly to the door. The smell of the food was so distracting, he was terrified but the smell invaded his mind with the promise of warmth and comfort, sending what little moisture his body had left to flood his mouth in hunger. Angel swallowed and looked around, weary of how relatively easy this had all been. He leaned against the outmost post of the porch sand cast tired eyes to the forest, knowing something was watching them from out in the darkness.

A gentle breeze floated through the wind chimes hanging from the aged wood frame above his head. The wind chimes sounded cheerful yet off somehow, sickeningly hollow, and when angel looked at it he saw why. They were made up of small… animals bones? ribs mostly, and some pieces of differing leg and arm bones, strung together on twisted sinewy thread. The top of the chime was what looked like a fox or a coyote skull, with strange symbols carved into it. What caught his attention though were the strings, they were the same wiry, smooth threads he’d seen securing other unsettling decor around the forest.

The strings he noted were different colors, a deep black, a black with highlights of brown, a bright orange, blonde… Angels stomach dropped and suddenly he felt nothing but deep dread and sickness. The fear made him instantly retch and shudder - this place wasn’t safe, they needed to leave.

The sound of Molly knocking on the door ripped him from his thoughts and he jumped, eyes locked on the door as they both held their breath waiting for a response. Angel’s heart was beating in his ears, straining to hear through the ringing and the soft lilt of the music in the still air. He held his breath, begging to hear nothing. A long moment passed, the pair exchanged a glance. Angel reached out to stop her but she knocked again, gentle yet firm, “h-Hellooo?…” Molly squeaked, barely able to contain the shaking in her voice.

Angel limped quietly to her side, grabbing her hand in comfort and fear. They waited for what felt like an eternity, expecting to hear the scuffs of footsteps or creaking floor boards or to hear anything at all, but there was nothing, just the muffled jazz and the stillness of the air. Molly looked back at Angel, hopeful and questioning, but Angels face read nothing but doubt and fear. He shook his head gently pleading, tears pooling in his eyes for her not to open the door. She met his eyes with a worried yet determined stare.

He whipped around and checked their backs, feeling the eyes of the forest crawling over him, sending a haunting shiver through his body. The forest remained black and unmoving, no life, no sound, save for the now mournful and sinisterly warm music ringing through the air from the nearby window. Angel panted and scanned again, his eye catching the stump from his periphery and - he stopped and snapped his entire head down - the axe was gone. His eyes rang in their sockets, hands deftly grabbing for Molly’s hand for comfort, unable to look away from the now clearly blood soaked stump, void of the axe he had seen before.

He turned to Molly to tell her they needed to go, but to his horror she was in the cabin, standing by the fire in the middle of the room, “Anthony come on!” She chided. “Molly no this place isn’t safe! We gotta go now!” Angel begged trying to be as quiet as possible, but she was already wandering in deeper towards the smell. Angel ambled to the doorway and peered in, “Molly!” He whispered sharply, but she was already poking around what looked to be the kitchen area at the back of the room.

He huffed. Angel looked over his shoulder again into the darkness behind him and cracking the door only wide enough to squeeze through, he slipped into the house, closing the door silently behind him. He pushed his body against the door and anxiously looked around, horrified to find it was warm and charming inside. The jazz came from a gramophone, set on top of a small desk by the window to his left, cracked only a bit to let some of the cool night air in. The desk had a few letters scattered lightly over the smooth, worn dark wood. A small clear glass vase with some small blue flowers sat next to a black and white photo of a beautiful woman in an ornate gold frame, a drawing of the blooms sketched lightly on the corner of a nearby envelope.

He stood pressed firmly to the door panting in fear, exploring the room with his eyes, straining for the threat he knew was hiding. He looked past the gramophone to find a large bookcase, filled and overflowing with books. Angel was in awe of just how many books there were, the wood of the shelves reaching to the top of the roof, bowing slightly under the weight of its many reads. The case was filled neatly with rich colors of spines, but for as many filled the shelf, there were still stacks of more littering the nearby floor. The volumes shared the floor spaces between the desk and the nearby leather chair with records and pressings of long since forgotten songs. A beautifully ornate red and blue rug with pops of bright emerald threads framed the space and gave it a warm and cozy feeling. It was clearly old but well taken care of, a bit faded and thread bare in some areas showing the habits of whoever lived here, a clear path between the books on the shelf, the desk, and the chair.

Angel wearily and hungrily looked at the chair, his body pleading and begging for rest. It looked plush and comfortable, a high back and over stuffed arms, a deep purple knit blanket draped lazily over the arms and low back, a small pillow pressed with wear against the chairs right corner. Angel swallowed, sitting there he knew would feel like a warm embrace, one that would hold onto him and pull him under. The chair sat comfortably between the book shelf and the fireplace along the same wall, angled so that the warmth and light of the fire illuminated the chair entirely but not so far from the book case that one couldn’t grab for the lifeline of a book to save them from the promise of a cozy fireside nap. The fire crackled and sputtered lazily, offering a warming glow that sent a shiver through angel’s frozen and broken body.

He pulled his eyes away from the spell of the fire and looked back to the promise of the chair. The piles of books sat on top and at the foot of a small side table. It was very petite, only space for a small lamp and an even smaller pile of books, the corners of which hung slightly over the edge of the table. There was also, he noticed, a small tea cup set a top a book, a pair of round gold framed reading glasses placed neatly beside the steaming cup and saucer. Angel squirmed in fear as his stomach clenched “Molly, maybe we should get out of here, what if they come back?” He was worried, no one was there now but it looked like they might be back soon.

“MMM! Oh Anthony look!” Angel looked over toward her voice and saw her standing at a large pot settled on top of a wood burning stove. There was a table between them where she had grabbed a ladle and holding the lid with one hand, she dipped the large spoon into the pot and took a sip of the steaming hot soup. She closed her eyes and let out a deep contented sigh, “You have to try this Anthony, it’s delicious!” Opening her eyes again she found Angel still standing at the front door, his arms both crossed and splayed out, holding himself tightly and bracing himself worriedly against the door. “Come on Molly, we can’t eat someone else’s food!” Angel pleaded, “besides, I think they’re gonna come back soon, we gotta get outta here, this place is beyond freakin me out,” but Molly scooped another ladle full of broth out and held it up for Angel to see.

“They’ll understand, I promise. Come on Anthony be reasonable, you need to eat somethin to gain back your strength!” She turned around and grabbed for a bowl from a nearby shelf. Turning back to the pot, she scooped a ladleful of broth into the bowl and held it out to Angel, “Come on, just a little, please….” She begged him with her eyes.

Was she seriously out of her mind? Absolutely not! There was no way they were just going to wander into this random persons house and then steal their food. What if they came back and got pissed and cut them up into pieces like he’d seen hanging from the trees? The rich scent of the soup caught his nose again and sent his stomach tumbling into a deep gnawing pull of hunger. Angel stared again at the chair, and looked around the room to see more quaint touches, pictures on the wall of an older woman and a young man who Angel figured was her son, framed pieces of art, scatterings of playful taxidermy… He glanced at the bookcase again to see framed photos scattered among the shelves, another small bundle of blue flowers set lightly a top of the leather chair.

He did admit that it was nice and warm in here, and it would be good to regain their strength… As long as it wasn’t that huge creature that lived here, chances are they could outrun whoever lived here if they turned out to be hostile. Well, Molly could. I’ll give her a head start, he let out a small huff of a laugh, might as well die with a warm belly he thought.

Slowly, Cautiously, Angel limped across the room past the fireplace and the chair towards the kitchen using the wall as a crutch. He glanced up wearily at the wall to see black and white photos of people other than the old woman and her, admittedly, very handsome son. There was another photo of the woman from the desk, though this time she was singing on a stage surrounded by a crowd of cheering men. A large portrait of the older woman set in an ornate wood frame nestled between two complimentary paintings of rabbits and foxes dancing in pastel play clothes. He walked further along and saw a couple of old victorian photos, a beautiful young woman with bright white hair and dark eyes, so pale she almost looked grey.

In one photo, she stared blankly into the camera while clutching a small white bundle, which Angel realized was a baby. Her face was soft with no expression, but she held the infant with care, gently but firmly for the camera to see. His eyes found another photo with the same woman, standing in the same beautiful gown. She now stood next to a handsome man in a black tuxedo, decorated with military badges and pins. He was seated, dressed in what Angel could tell were expensive clothes, with a top hat and bow tie. He had a large but meticulously maintained mustache and beard covering his face, no emotion showing on his handsome features. The woman stood beside him, barely resting her hand on his shoulder, her black eyes reflecting no light, her features statuesque. He shivered. Angel peered deeper into the photo and noticed that the mans eyes were closed. Confused, he looked back at the photo of the infant and realized the infants eyes were closed too. Confusion crossed his brow, but then he pulled away from the wall, his eyes welling up with tears - they were both dead.

“Hurry Angel, quit stalling” Molly called sharply. Lip trembling, Angel quickly turned from the wall and grabbed for the table, shuffling quickly to where Molly was standing and clasped her hand in his. He stared at their hands for a moment, fear soaking deeper and deeper into his bones, the need to run away twitching in his legs. He squeezed her hand and took a deep breath, just keep it together a little longer, he thought, do it for her, she needs you, Anthony.

He looked up from their hands and into Molly’s eyes, her kindness and patience reflected in her pink orbs. “Here,” She said gently, putting the bowl down in front of him on the table and gently brushing his hair with her free hand. He stared at the bowl, the steam rising and dancing for him, offering its savory aromas and causing his resolve to tremble. Swallowing guiltily he looked up at Molly, “I don’t know Molls, really… I-I think we should jus go, please….”

With a huff, Molly grabbed the ladle and scooped a fresh spoonful of soup from the pot. She turned to Angel and held the steaming ladle full of broth in front of his face, her lips pressed in a determined line.

Angel swallowed deeply while staring deeply into Molly’s eyes. The smell of the fresh broth pulled his eyes down and he stared into the spoon she was holding out to him. The rich brown broth looked just as delicious as it smelled, and he could feel his mouth flood in hunger. He looked up again at Molly, pleading with his eyes, but knowing that she was right and he needed something to replenish his broken body, he leaned in and took a long, slow sip from the spoon. The warmth of the broth slipped past his lips and invaded his entire body, warming and scorching his frozen core as the liquid poured down his throat. He could feel it dispersing its healing warmth, instantly curing his pains and awakening his body into deep, raging craving for more.

His eyes opened and he stared at Molly again, she smiled at him knowingly, “It’s really good right?” She grinned. Angel smiled sheepishly, good was an understatement, more like incredible. Maybe they could finish their soup and then leave in a hurry. As if reading his mind (or just hearing his stomach), Molly grabbed the bowl from the table and adding a fresh ladleful of soup, handed the bowl back over to Angel.

The young spider smiled weakly taking the bowl and looked warmly at Molly as she ladled more soup into a bowl of her own. The pull of hunger controlling his body now, he brought the bowl to his lips and let his eyes drift closed with comfort as he took another long slip. The meal felt like sunshine running through his body, reminding him of childhood, sitting at their small dinner table during cold winter nights and eating with his sister. The broth was delicious, rich and comforting with herbs and spices, his lips and mouth tingling with what he imagined was a pepper sauce. He tilted the bowl higher, draining the soup of its broth and only stopping when he felt an ingredient in the bowl bump against his lips.

His eyes drifting open in contentment, he lowered the bowl and sighed happily staring into the pottery in his hands. Having drunk so much of the liquid, he could now see the solids of the soup, some greens and onions, red pepper flakes, a potato, and…. Angel squinted. His eyes immediately shifted from innocent curiosity to cold horror, staring down blankly, body frozen. Mind broken, his hands forgot their task and Angel dropped his bowl, the glossy pottery shattering on the ground revealing the remaining contents of the soup - an ear, and two small toes. Angel stared at the floor, the ringing in his ears louder than the jazz filling the small space. He couldn’t breathe, the pounding of his heart ringing throughout his entire body.

“It was people,” the words slipped out of Angel’s mouth, barely audible, eyes unblinking in shock.

Saying it out loud, no matter how silent sent him reeling. Hearing it caused his body to retch deeply, the realization of what he’d eaten forcing him to spew the contents of his already weakened stomach on the ground. He doubled over, throwing up what little was in him, his sickness renewed with each glimpse of the broken bowl on the floor, the ear dangerously close to his left foot. “Mol-MMolly!” he weakly called between waves of retching, reaching out weakly for support, pulling at the bottom of his now empty stomach to force bile and saliva out of his burning throat. “Molly!” he called weakly, bracing himself on the table, he looked up to where she had been by the cooking pot, but a new dread filled his emptied stomach when he found she was gone.

Eyes wide in terror, he spun frantically, searching around the room for any sign of his sister, but in the instant it took for him to realize she was gone, the room had changed from a quaint little cottage, warm with the welcoming glow of the fire to exactly what he had feared. The small room was now lit a murderous red, dark and almost black in places, only brighter because of the barely controlled fire raging against the wall. The fire was white hot and green - the crackling of the lime flames dancing off of the edges of hundreds of razor sharp weapons mounted to the wall that was once lined with memorabilia. Where had just been photos and artworks moments before, now housed knives, chisels and blades, scythes and straight razors covering any free space between knots and holes in the broken panels of wood. Each instrument of suffering was polished to a mirror like shine, placed carefully and in an order, obviously well cared for.

“MOLLY!” He cried out desperately, “WHERE ARE YOU??”

The jazz from the front of the room blared through the gramophone's bell, the sound breaking in places and becoming more distorted and off key as the record played.The books on the shelf were gone and replaced with jars filled with body parts floating in shades of pink or blue liquid, hands, hearts, and a few heads floating lifeless in the jars. The once siren lounge chair now sat ominously, the leather of the chair clearly patched together with different pieces of differing colors of leather… different sizes and shapes… Angels eyes drifted in horror to the fire place, eyes shaking, climbing to find a small bundle of legs, and another larger bundle of arms hanging from the ceiling with different herbs to dry.

Angel heaved in an open mouth sob, the once cozy lilt of the jazz now a raging upbeat tempo, squalling and crying out, trumpets and saxophones slicing through the mounting terror. The record player glowed with the same sickening green magic that the fire raged with, sending small sparks of fire drifting off into the air. They floated and danced on the distorted melodies around the room, alive with magic, charming despite the scene. He stared in awe and fear as one of the little fireflies buzzed up to his face, flying in an intricate spiral, and then landed on his cheek, singeing the hair on his face. He grabbed his cheek in pain and stared on in horror as the room filled with the lightning bugs, burning him with sharp pain as they lazily bumped into him.

Suddenly, a loud, metallic screech ripped through the wailing of the jazz, the piercing cut of the scream sliced through Angel and stoked the deep fear writhing inside of him. Every hair standing on end, Angel turned around and locked teary wide, insanity filled eyes with the terrible, smoldering red of the creature. The room had changed again, the roof of the small cabin now much taller than it had been, allowing the smaller, but still massive demon to take up almost the entire cabin, its upsettingly thin and long legs crouching brokenly. Its giant white buck skull dripped black sap as it ran razor sharp black claws against a grinding stone now placed in front of the fire place. Long high pitched screams over powered the cries of the piano chords from the record player, the Wendigo twisted its long, broken neck towards Angel, bright red pupils boring into him from blackened sockets, the screaming and trumpets rioting in the air between them.

Angel stared back trembling, screeches from the grinding stone echoing the ringing in his ears. Angel shook in defeat, whimpering in terror as he clutched his head with his hands. The strange birds. He knew they hadn’t sounded right, but now he knew the chirps and calls hadn’t been birds at all, it had been the grinding cry of knives and claws being sharpened all along. His knees gave out and he buckled into the table grabbing tight in fear, frozen in place, shaking and sobbing, eyes darting between the wall of blades and the creature, begging to find his sister.

w̸̙̗͝h̸͙͋ǎ̸̡̋t̴̮̥̍̋'̴͔̑͜ś̷͇͈͠ ̷̠̉͘t̴̬̗̃ḩ̵̱̄͝e̵͓͒͘ ̸̖̝̌m̸̹͋̈́ã̷̢̝t̴̨̠̒̇t̵̲̼̿ĕ̶̞͗r̶̼̔̃

the creatures voice was a layered and distorted guttural growl, shaking the inside of Angels head. All at once his hair stood on end, his body erupting into gooseflesh. He hadn’t heard it from his ears, he heard it from inside of him, inside of his mind. The concept made Angel grab his head and cry out in fear, screaming as he could hear the monster laughing in his mind. Reaching a clawed hand forward, the creature leaned toward Angel, neck stretching, head turning at broken angles. Lumbering over him, the creature twisted its head, bringing the tip of its bleached skull inches away from Angels and stared deeply into his eyes. Angel took a deep shuddering breath and turned to look up at what he knew was watching from the forest all along. Angel stared into the bright white skull of the haunted creature, eyes burning red radio dials, mouth dripping with dead blood and chuckling out loud and in his thoughts. He knew it was him, Angel’s body wracked with a sob, it had been him the whole time. His body trembled in fear, too scared to be angry as the Wendigo hovered above him, titanic and horrifying, crawling with maggots and death.

a̷̢̗͓͗̉̓r̴̳̩̀͋ę̴̬̟̝͛̃̄̃̅̇̎͘ ̴̛̛̙͖̆̋y̸̦̹̖̝̖̣͛̀̾̉o̴̗̠̖̲̽̄͂̊̅͗̌ͅͅư̸͖̳͍̞͇̲̗̇̏́͂̑̑ ̴̢̞̟͕̦͚͐̏̀̂̄͝ͅs̶͚͕͒͂̃͒̚ć̸͖̺̙͌ḁ̶̢̼́̈͐̓̅̚r̶̡̢̳̣̫̪̈́̀͆͒̽̓ę̴̽̽͌̆d̴̡͕̮̺̠̋̈́̀͘͝?̵̨͙͚͔̼͇̟̥̽̃̈́̐̚

A dark rolling laughter rang out from a radio suddenly appearing on the mantle at the same time as it rang out in his mind. The creature in front of him let out a screaming bellow, a shaking rancid cry of sorrow deep from its core ringing out in the small cabin, the beast cackling in his mind as it sharpened its claws against the grinding stone. The screeching, now obvious cries of the claws against stone, reverberated through his entire being, his eyes wide, tears stinging his cheeks as they streamed down his face, jazz joyfully wailing in the air. Angel’s mind was beginning to break, the pounding of his heart keeping time with the horrid jazz. He needed to find Molly, they needed to go before it was too late.

“MOLLY!!” He screamed, the Wendigo shifted and screamed too, mocking Angel and laughing louder in his mind. He cried out for her again, stepping back from the kitchen table, wrapping his arms around his body, bracing his head with his other hands, clamping his red eyes shut tight. The creature screamed in delight, his gravely laughter ringing inside of Angel’s head while the radio cackled violently through its static. Eyes desperate and tired, he searched the kitchen for anything that could help him find Molly. His head swam with all of the different sounds and exhaustion, his mind blank with shock and fear, but determined to find her.

He searched the kitchen, eyes finding a large jar nearby that hadn’t been there before. He wept as he saw it filled with hundreds of gold and silver rings. He stared brokenly at the jar, there were so many rings in it, it was almost full, wedding rings, so many people…. Shaking, he turned his head to the scene in front of him - where there had been nothing now there was a bloody cleaver and a human leg sitting on the table. Mind reeling with the discovery, the screams of the creature faded into the blaring of the jazz and static from the radio as he stared at the new setting before him, ears ringing loudly in his head, the audio of the room shaking his body. The leg had been cut into two pieces at the knee, a tattoo of a naked woman and a rose high on the thigh. There were scraps of carrot peel and onion ends, a few leafy stems, but Angel’s eyes drifted to a large blood spot in the middle of the cutting board. Angel gulped heavily and stared down at the cut of what he recognized as the leg calf. His eyes followed the limb and noticed the foot had been cut off at the ankle, and was no where to be seen Angel realized with a pitiful whimper.

“The foot is a wonderful ingredient for adding bold flavor without wasting prime cuts,” Alastor’s static voice cut through the terror and filled him with a new fear.

“Tons of cartilage and fat for flavor,” a slow thumping came from in front of Angel, not as earth shaking as before, but it still filled him with the same dread. The sharp thumping of footsteps came closer, but he was too shaken to look up.

“Some muscle, some marrow…” His cheerful tone drawled across the room and wrapped softly around the lively jazz. Angel’s eyes were locked on the blood stained cutting board, he shook in terror and rage, clenching his fists so tightly his hands began to bleed. Alastor’s foot steps stopped right in front of the table, and Angel glared down through tears in his eyes at how his boots were immaculate, perfectly shined to reflect the green fire’s raging glow.

Alastor lunged forward with a black clawed hand and grabbed Angel by the throat, squeezing his fingertips into his neck and pulling Angel’s face to meet his snarl, “LIKE A HAM HOCK.” He growled excitedly through a grin, static distorting his voice, strained and unhinged.

Angel was livid among other things.

Shaking with rage and terror, the pale spider mustered his strength and looked into the demon’s face with pure rage but let out a shaking breath in dread when he actually saw it. Alastor’s features had been distorted and exaggerated, his shark teeth enlarged and razor sharp, dripping with fresh blood. Eyes bright red with burning green dials for pupils, his antlers loomed dangerously, black and jagged. Each bone ended in a sharp point, twisting and contorting around each other, sharp and dripping with acid green magic that burned. The demons crown was adorned with jewels - strings of limbs and cloth dolls, a macabre decoration that only served to make the Radio Demon more terrifying.

His face however scared him the most - Angel could see bits of hay and dried grass peeking out between stitches on his face and neck, straw coming out from under his hair, a thread by his grin hanging loose. He looked like a doll, sewn together with bright acid green magic, coming undone, burlap skin hiding wriggling worms and beetles that squirmed beneath the surface. He could see the demons neck and limbs were longer and more twisted than normal, bent at impossible angles, Alastor’s body looming larger than usual.

Panicking in his grasp, Angel’s eyes scrambled to see that he was much larger than usual, now taking up the same space as the creature before, Alastor’s legs twisted in a looming crouch, hands turning into large bleeding black claws. The titanic Radio Demon rest his free hand on the table that had separated them, cracking and breaking the wood beneath his weight. His suit was sharper and more ripped, bloody and gushing a black ooze from his pockets and collar that made the air smell rancid with stale blood and rotted meat. Angel could see bugs crawling from underneath his suit, running between his lapels and into his breast pocket, an unflinching smile plastered sharply on his burlap face.

Alastor leaned in too close to Angel, the green glow of his eyes lighting the spiders features dramatically “So what did you think of my gumbo?” He grinned, manic laughter ringing from the radio and inside Angel's head. Alastor was holding the spider entirely in his razor sharp grasp, fingers like a cage of swords holding Angel back, cutting painfully into his flesh whenever the cackling demon tightened his grip “Delicious, don’t you think? I’ll give you the secret if you promise not to tell.”

Angel screwed his eyes shut and clenched his fists harder, “WHERE THE FUCK IS MOLLY??” Angel screamed, eyes set with determination, “GIVE HER BACK!”

Alastor fell into a tumbling cackle of deep, gut wrenching laughs at the spiders boldness. With a final squeeze, Alastor tossed Angel to the corner of the room, his body slamming into the kitchen shelves against the wall, before falling limply to the floor. Angel cried out in pain when he landed, a fallen knife slicing cleanly into his side. He winced and grabbed the handle, pulling the blade from his gut as he whimpered, weakly checking to see the extent of the damage as the room spun with magic. Alastors laugh rang throughout the cabin, the angry jazz and echoes of the creatures screams in the air suffocating him. Stitched together in a grotesque smile, long since dead blood now dripping from the cracks of his fangs, Alastor’s burning red eyes with piercing green glowing dials twisted with delight, “My dear, whatever do you mean?” The demon taunted, mirror sharp knives for fingers grasping for him, ripping cleanly through any flesh it encountered, a renewed roll of manic laughter flooding from the radio.

Angel winced as the claws sliced cleanly through him, clutching his side, Angel screwed his eyes shut and screamed as loud as he could, “GIVE HER BACK ALASTOR!” The demon turned its hideous head at a sickening angle with a large bone snapping crunch, “Who?” The demon jeered, eyes smiling, truly enjoying their game.

“Ohhhhhh,” Alastor taunted as he cocked his head in the opposite direction, another nauseating deep crack of bone, “Her?”

As he spoke, his eyes glowed brighter and the room immediately began to burn with his putrid green magic. Instantly, the ground between them fell away into a deep, fiery pit, a white hot inferno licking the edges of the sinkhole, the eerie red of the room giving way to violent purple and blue. The newly formed chasm radiated with the sickly green glow, the flames of Alastors magic sending fireflies swarming out of the pit in the earth and pelting Angel with singeing burns as they attacked him. Symbols and spells of Alastors magic in bright green and fiery white spewed from the fires, spinning around the room and popping at random, sending painful bursts of flies at Angel like little bombs. Inky black tendrils of shadow covered the walls, shaped like hoards of raging demons, all laughing and cheering, claws begging for bloodshed and violence - the shadow behind Alastor the biggest and most blood thirsty of all, jagged mouth dripping in anticipation.

“ANTHONY!!” Mollys screams rang through the cabin, Angel snapped up to see her clutching tightly to a threadbare rope, hanging from one of the colossal Radio Demon’s deadly antlers. Angels eyes widened somehow further in terror as he watched Molly twisting helplessly, fighting to grab a more secure hold on the rope, dangling like the other dolls that littered his branches of antlers. Her own eyes were screwed shut in fear, crying and begging for rescue. Angel sobbed as she screamed and whimpered, clawing for purchase while Alastor laughed, swinging her wildly around the room as he laughed, dangling her over the dancing fires of the abyss. The large demon cackled violently as he swung her around, Alastor now a magenta and acid blue titan looming over Angel as he stared helplessly at his sister.

Alastors burning eyes watched Angel’s face in delight, the spider desperate and frantic, scrambling weakly to try and find something to help his sister with, but there was nothing left in the room save for the four of them - Alastor, the twins and the chasm. The great demon shifted an eye over to Molly hanging from his antler and lifted a brow smiling wider, a terrible giggle coming from the static. Alastor reached up and held his dripping claws up to Molly, poking sharply at her side with his index finger and earning a pained squeak from the girl. Angel raged at the offense as Molly sobbed, swinging precariously from his antler, “STOP IT ALASTOR!!” Pupils shifting back to Angel, The Radio Demon splayed his fingers around Molly as she squirmed and dangled helplessly, the demon somehow smiling wider and more murderous. He flexed his clawed hands again and placed a razor sharp finger delicately against Molly’s rope.

“Oops!” Alastor quirked his shoulder with surprised delight, flexing his index and slicing the rope Molly gripped in a single swift motion. Eyes wide in terror, Molly grasped for anything and screamed, eyed locked with Angel’s, her slender frame plummeting towards the fire.

Angel’s heart stopped.

“MOLLY!!” He screamed as she fell, the shriek ripping what was left of his voice apart, the green flames of the chasm reaching up to break her fall.

Fueled by adrenaline, Angel ran to the edge of the pit and reached out for her, all 6 of his arms stretched wide, watching her fall, straining to get closer to her. Molly’s screams rang out in his head, louder than the jazz or the monster or even the ringing in his ears. He watched as she fell, bracing himself to grab her, he wouldn’t let her die again.

“ANTHONY!!” She screamed as she plummeted, her hands out stretched towards him, eyes wide in terror as she fell, she was so close… Angel reached up and out further, the tip of his boot hanging over the edge of the pit, brushing his fingertips against hers, he could just barely touch her… she was too far away….

“Not again,” Angel muttered, and throwing himself over the edge of the chasm, he grabbed a hold of her wrist, fully wrapping his hand around her and holding her tight.

He grabbed for her other hand as she fell but missed, causing him to hold on to her wrist tighter, only death could make him let go. He grabbed again for her as they fell, finally managing to secure her other two hands in his. Angel’s free hands grabbing for anything to anchor the pair to the cliff, anything to save them from the burning hell of Alastors magic. As they fell into the burning pit, Angel desperately grasped for anything, fingers finally managing to catch onto a crag in the side of the chasm, the sudden jolt of their abrupt stop jostling the twins, the pair clinging tighter as they settled.

Using all of his remaining strength and the three arms that weren’t wrapped around his twin, he held them securely over the pit, the rocky cliff cutting into his fingers and hands. Angel panted in panic and looked deep into Mollys eyes, the green fire raging in his sight behind her, “Don’t look down Molls, jus focus on me okay?” He yelled over the screaming of the Wendigo, the soul wrenching screeches steeping them both with dread.

“Anthony,” Molly whimpered pitifully, her eyes flooded with tears. The young spider sobbed in fear, wrapping tightly around her brother she trembled, knees clenched around his leg. Angel was quickly loosing his hold on the side of the cliff, the rocks so sharp that they threatened to slice his hands in two, but he wouldn’t let Molly down, not again.

“Hold on tight to me Molly! Don’ let go!” He yelled, voice raspy and hoarse, fear emphasizing his words. Looking up they weren’t too far from the opening, but with his strength already failing, he feared they wouldn’t make it. Mustering everything in him, Angel turned fully to the rocky side of the pit and slowly began to pull them up to the edge. Hand over hand he pulled them up, straining as he climbed, hands bloody and raw, cuts filling with gravel. Sweat dripping from his pallid face, he could hear Molly cry out in pain as the fire crackled higher against her hip. The rancid violin screams rang out hollow and louder above them, the cackling radio and angry trumpet filling the air, laughing in pure joy at their torment.

Anger surged through Angel, fuck his pain, he wouldn’t listen to her screams anymore, he needed her safe. Pulling harder, Angel climbed up the cliff and finally reached a bloody hand up and over the edge of the pit, grabbing firmly to the broken floorboards that signaled their salvation. Pulling with all of his strength, Angel threw an elbow over the lip of the abyss and pulling himself up, reached to find another anchor point with his other damaged hands. His fingers splayed for a hole in the floor, anything to help him pull the two of them up when the board supporting him snapped. Angel gasped, panicked eyes wide he scrambled to find anything else to hold onto as Molly and the Wendigo screamed, the pair slipping back down into the fire. The Radio Demons cries of laughter rang out renewed, louder than before, splinters littering Angels broken hands as they begged for purchase.

“FUCK!” Angel screamed, a bloody hand finally grabbing ahold of a wide crack in the wood inches from the edge, stabbing a broken splinter deep into his fingertip as he held tight. He trembled and panted weakly, pulling them up again, begging his adrenaline rush to get them to safety. With both elbows above the ridge again, he braced against the floor and clenched his torso, pulling himself back over the edge of the hole. He swung a leg over the lip and onto the splintered wood, scrambling to pull the rest of his body up while keeping a firm hold of Molly. Dangling over the acid green flames, she curled into herself away from the fire, sobbing weakly in fear as Angel pulled her up, her small hands reaching up to grab the edge of the chasm.

Straining against his own fatigue, Angel dug his heels into the cracks in the floorboards, pulling Molly over the side of the pit, her eyes bursting with tears. “Come on Molly, its okay,” Angel reached out a hand smiling, the screaming of the Wendigo refreshed in the air, “Jus’ look at me, jus’ focus on me.” Molly stared deeply into his eyes as Alastors howls of manic laughter rang loud through the room, vibrating the air in their lungs and sending the fire of the chasm high into the air. Molly screamed out in pain as the green flames raced up her body, her arms and upper torso the only parts of her above the fires grasp.

“MOLLY!!” Angel cried, straining hard against her wrists, begging to bring her to safety. Somehow through the distorted bellows of the creature and the mocking jazz in the air, Angel heard the sound of fabric sheering and ripping as he pulled. He stared into his sisters face as it contorted from fear into absolute confusion and panic, her screams shrill and pained. His own brow furrowed in confusion as he pulled her towards him, much lighter after the sound of the ripping had cut through the air. The colossus Alastor loomed large over head, mouth and eyes wide in twisted delight, fangs dripping rancid black blood, his disfigured arms caging them in. Abnormally large eyes wide, acid green dials lit the pair from the demons insane gaze, his cackling unhinged through the radio waves and Angels mind as a ring of shadow demons cackled and jeered in delight.

Molly’s screams rang out in the tiny cabin and shook Angel to his core, ripping him back into reality from the daze he had been in since hearing the sound.

He scrambled towards her, pulling her to him as she screamed out in agony, his confusion and fear causing bile to pool at the back of his throat, blood running cold as he forced himself to her side. “MOLLY WHAT IS IT? TELL ME Wha-“ He stopped when he noticed the reason for her cries, she had no legs. She screamed out again, “ANTHONY!! OH GOD MAKE IT STOP!” “She thrashed and shrieked, her brothers eyes locked on where her legs would be as he held her.

“IT BURNS!! OH GOD ANTHONY PLEASE!!” Angels mind went blank, fireflies singeing his face and arms, eyes locked on the hem of her shirt and the void beneath it “IT BURNS!!” Molly screamed.

Angel pulled her into his arms, hands shaking he secured her in his lap as she sobbed in agony. “Molly let me see…” Angel managed to say, words detached and hollow, a trembling hand reaching towards the edge of her shirt near her waist. He swallowed hard, the noise of the cabin all blending together and failing against the ringing in his ears, the pounding of his heart throbbing through his frame. “ANTHONY PLEASE!!” She sobbed again as he gingerly grabbed the singed hem of her shirt and pulling up slightly, exposed the burnt ends of hay and dried grass sticking out from under her shirt.

Angel stared at the sticks and reeds, unable to blink or breathe. His eyes mutely wandered to Molly’s beautiful face distorted in terror and agony, arms flailing in fear, begging and sobbing for the pain to stop. His eyes stung with tears, as her screams cut through the fog that had covered his mind and the cacophony of torment and horror came flooding in again, reigniting his dread. His body moved on its own, the need to comfort her the only way he could react. Weakly he reached up to brush Molly’s matted and dirty hair, voice trembling as he tried to sooth her. “Its…i-it’s gonna be ok-kay Molly… I’m…”

H̴̝̩̫͉̀̏̄̂ơ̸̢̼̞͗w̵̥̫̦̆͘ ̴̝̣̉w̷̝̱̃i̸̬̙̰̓̉̋͛l̴͇̈́l̶͚̯̦̈́̾̅͗͠ ̵̼̀̽̄̐y̶̼̏͛̚͠o̵̪̙̣̣̫̍͗ṵ̶̥̭̪̋́͜ ̵̿̃͝ͅf̶̛̪͖̣̀̕ĭ̸̪̰̀̋x̴͈̏͂̀ ̸͔͔̬̞̀̾t̸̘̍h̷̳̜̩̳̾́i̸͇̣̒̓s̶̻̭̪̐̊

“I’m gonna make it okay…”

Ḫ̶̛̛̘͕̘̞͉͚̀̍̅͛͑̿́̑̇̋̉Ơ̷͇̖̮̲̲̣̣͙͙̱̞̙̅W̴̜̻̜͗͗̋̅̒̕͝ ̵̧̤̰̜̩̫̱̯͚̹̼͓̍͌͛̕͜ͅẄ̸̨̛͔̟̘̮͉̮͓̻́́̾́̀͆́͛̏̋̽̈́̽̏̎͜I̶̢̛͉̊̿̂̽ͅḶ̷̛̜̠͔̞̦̠̫͓͛̀̂̃͛̌͆̒́̎̕L̸̨̦̱̠̜͎͇̭̦̗̭͈͔̭͈̈́͋͘ ̴̛̛̼͇̄̿͗͑͗́̚͝Y̶̻͆͛̓̒̈́͗̽͒̔͆͋̓̕͘̚͠͝O̴̺͖̼͖̣̙̤̲̱̍͌͐U̷̝̯̬̓̔̓̔͘ ̴͓̺̣̲̹͆F̴̧̫̠͔̜͙̖͍͍̼̞̭̓̉͌̋͂̏̎̈́̈́̕͠͠͝I̴̧̢͕̹͎̺̲͙̰̤̭̱̿͋͑͗̄͐͒͒̋̅̊̚͝X̵̺̣̣͔͔͙̹͊͘ ̸̬̳̰̝̭̦̹͕̣̺̅̎̂̅͂́͜͝ͅṪ̸̡̤͓͚́̓̄̉͗̚̚͝Ḩ̴̹̮̤̝̭͉̹͎̠̱͓̻͑̔͛̑͋͑̉̇̄̉͝Į̶̧͍̜̰̮̦̙̠̺̰̻̪̦̳̯͂̀̈́͋͝͝ͅS̴̛͎̠͎̐́̆̿̓͆̀͛̀̉̈̕͝͝?

“I CAN FEEL IT BURNING MY SOUL!! ITS BURNING MY SOUL!! ANTHONY PLEASE HELP ME!!” Angel whimpered and muttered hollow reassurances rocking them back and forth, eyes still staring at the hay coming out of her ribs, too scared to admit the truth to himself, afraid to look deeply at his sisters features.

“MAKE IT STOP!! PLEASE HELP ME!! IT’S BURNING MY SOUL ANTHONY, PLEASE!!” Her hands pulled at his sweater, begging him to end her suffering. Angel let out a choked sob, deep anguish contorting his face, he held her close and threw his head back letting out a rage fueled cry of agony. He screamed until he had no breath left in him and slumped sobbing against Molly’s now smaller frame, her shrieks of pain muffled as he buried his face into her neck. He grabbed her close and screamed again with her. The Wendigos voice called out in Angels mind.

w̵͙̰͇͎̄́̄́͌h̸͇̜̻̤̀̿y̴̫̗͕͌̏̓̒͠ ̸̜͎̀͊͆̚͝w̶̧̟̦̓̓̊̾ͅǫ̶̡̘̙̇ň̶̨͚͝'̸̰̊̓ť̷̺͂̎̽ ̸̡͂̄́̌y̷̱͆̒͝ò̵̬̬͚̼̒͂͐͜ů̷̱ ̴̪͔̳͖̿͂̇̈́ͅļ̴̜͆ȏ̸̡̱̟̭ǒ̴̖̙̥͋͠k̵̼̗̱̰̓̈̄ ̶͈̳̦͍́̈́á̵͙̘͎̺̘t̴͉͝ ̶̘̯͙̼͛̿́̾͝h̵͕͔͙͕̄́ȅ̸̫͈̟̙̯ŗ̶͎̠̗̀̏̓?̶͙̺̘̳̀

“SHUT UP!!” Angel screamed, clenching his eyes tight, Molly shrieking for death in his ear.

Ļ̷̢̨̢͈̯̦͍̗͕̝͙͂̒͛̉̓̔̓̑̌̀̋̀̆̌̅̿̏̓̂͊͛͝Ö̷̢̻̭̟̳̖̹̱̟͆̽̾͋͐̀̊͗́͌͊͜͜Ȯ̴̢̧̤̺̰͕͓͙͛̊̀̓͑̈́͛͘ͅͅK̷͉̪͚̲̰̟̗̀͊͐̇͂́̂̏̄̎̌̄́̚͝ ̵̧̦̬͎͔̰̙̓̽̓̊̃̓͒̓́͆̓̇͑̚̕͝͝Ä̸̢̡͓̳́͋̎́̌̈̈́̿̎͠T̷̨͚̯̜̫̀̒̎͑͊͊̑͊ ̶͉͎̫̣̱̬̈́͋͂̿̄̋̿̏͊̀̉̂̓̽͐̀̂̚͠H̸̛͇̎͂̾͐͐̓̈̄̆̀͋Ë̷̤̺͕̪͈͖̘͉̙̭̱́̔̃̐̇��̾̔̽͊̕͜͠͝ͅͅȐ̵̨̛̞̩̲̣̻͙̻̳̬̖̪͍͛́̾͌͂͛̈̔

The voice commanded loudly in Angels mind and reverberated throughout his body startling him, causing him to open his eyes with a sob, tears running down his chapped and raw cheeks. He screwed his eyes closed again and biting his trembling lip, turned his face towards his screaming sister and opened his eyes slowly.

Teary red eyes looked down into her horror and pain filled face, acid green stitches lining her features and holding together the seems of her skin. Angel shook his head in defeat and sorrow as he noted the singed burlap of her cheek, her arms and neck seems bursting with reeds and dried grass. “No…” he whimpered, Molly screaming out in agony, “ITS BURNING MY SOUL ANTHONY!! PLEASE!! MAKE IT STOP BURNING!!” An arm seem ripped fully and her arm slumped to the ground, landing brokenly on the floorboards with a small thud. She writhed in pain, hay splaying on the nearby ground as Alastors manic laugher blared from the static of the radio.

w̸͔̩͍̹͇̣̻͑̎̐͂h̷̨͉͈̯̯̝̲̩̄̊͜y̴̢͔͈̥̪̤̜̑͆̄͊͆̃͒̚̕͜ ̸̬̹͚̟̓̂̚ͅẁ̵̺̭͎͎͖̱͆̈́ò̵͈͓̯̱̯͂̊̈͜n̶̲̖̗̩̪̘̜͌͒̈́̍͛́͊̆̈̚'̷̛̻̺̟͓̺̘̩̮́̒͂̓̓̊͑͜t̴̛̺̙̹̗̃̌̏̓̅̓ ̸͓̩̾y̵̧͓̺̲͕̺͍͚̲̅̊̂̋̅̿́̇̏o̸̰̞͙̐̋̓̊͂̕͠ȕ̷̺̯͔͈̦̯̑̃͊́͊͝ ̴͎̘͔̯̰̪͔̝̆͘h̵̢̼̭̺̪̜̤̋̿̐͜ę̶̡̞̪̟̟͍̣͕̘͗̀l̷̡̥̱̟̳̇̏͜p̸̲͎̘̰͎͖̥̳̱̽ ̸͈̪̜̘̭̲̭̻͑̾̌͌͐̂h̵̨̡͍̰̲͍̪͇̆̈̋͋ế̵̡͈̬̜͙̮̼͚̼̯̇̿͒̽͝͠ŗ̸̠̠̩̥͌̽͝?̴̛̳͍̯͈̤̞̲̒

Angel shook as she begged for death, shrieking cries begging for him to stop the fire from burning, that she could feel the fire burning her soul away. Angel sobbed and sobbed, clutching Molly’s body to his chest, her cries of pain muffled only when he buried his face in her hair and screamed himself. The jazz wailed along with Alastors roaring laughter, the static of the radio buzzing with the ringing of his ears. The Wendigos hollow pulling screeches served as a background to Molly’s own cries of anguish. The noise was too much, it was all too much. He clutched his screaming twin closer and sobbed harder.

“Anthony please….” She whimpered, a sharp gasp and cry of pain renewed as her body fell into further decay, the tear on her wrist ripping further, seems in her face popping, dried grass peeking through her hair and eyelashes, “Please Anthony kill me,” She sobbed, “I can feel it burnin me away from inside of me, Please… kill me please….” she begged, crying like when she was 6 and had broken her arm falling off of the countertop. She was so small then… She gasped loudly in pain and cried looking into his eyes. Angel looked down at his sister with tears spilling through his lashes, her stitched mouth contorted and twisted in pain “PLEASE ANTHONY!” she convulsed in pain and begged, truly, deeply, begged for him to kill her.

W̶̛̙͈̝̰̜͚̳̫̻̟͈̦̏̒̾͒͋̊͌͒̇̾̕H̸͕͙́͌͋͜Ỳ̷̧͈̜̬̩͕͈̙͉͇̊̊̄͌ͅ ̵̧̡̨̹̦͙̠͊̃̆̊̈́͐̓͛͗̋̕ͅW̸͉̟͖̗̦͔̉̄̊̾͑̊̍̃O̴̡̦̯̦̹̱̥̮̺̙͙͙͂͠N̴̯̫͔͚̻̑̽̈̓̆̀̈̋̊͜͠T̶̢͈̀̈́͛́̀̈́̚͠ ̴̛̤͈̦̠͎̬̭͓̂͗̃̓́̇̈́̈́͋͜Y̶̧̢̛͈̟̻̜͗̊͑̀̄̈͌̆̅̍́Ȏ̸͓̗̳̲̆̈̔̋̇͛͠ͅU̷̡̮̺͓̞̱̳̺̖̹̣͐͗̾̈́̑̀̐̇̅͒̄ͅͅ ̵̢̞͕̮̩̗̤͗Ḧ̴͍̳́̀̀̎̃̕͠È̶̫̲͎̉̽̚Ļ̸̢̛̼͇̟͉̭̯̟͎̱̭̹͛̈́́̌̇́̈̋̈͛̾̚P̴̧̱̱̤͓͇̲͑̍̇͑͠ ̷̲̗̳͚͔͖͎̯̗̲͎͓̣̍̽̈́́̌̃̈́̔͗̐Ḧ̴͔̗̋̂̅̇́̉̃͛̕͠Ë̶̗͔͍̪̜̙̘̲̫́̎̓͊̏͛̈̅R̸͖̜̪͚͇̰̮̥͒́͌̿̅̍͜?̶̢̭̘̺̲̗̗̾͑̒͜

“STOP IT!!” Angel screamed, Molly screaming anew. “STOP! Just… Stop it- I…” Angel’s body wracked with sorrow.

He pressed his forehead to hers, tears streaming down his face and squeezed his eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not her, not again.

Angel let out a choking sob against Molly’s hair as he tucked her under his chin, not again. The beasts screaming echoed deep throughout Angel’s body, Molly’s cries of pain somehow louder. The ringing of his ears, the static laden laugher still screaming from the gramophone.

“What’s the matter Angel?” Alastors silky voice asked in his ear as the spider sobbed.

Angel rocked back and forth with his burlap and hay sister in his arms, her cries of agony cutting through the torment of the creature and the jazz. His tired and burning red eyes burst with tears, digging channels in his chapped and matted cheeks, pain coursing through his entire body. His ragged and pained gasps for air between sobs chipping further away at him, sanity long gone at this point, the horror of losing his beloved sister staring him in the face again, taunting him.

A̴̢̬̫̤̮̗̙͉̬̐̃͗͐ͅṘ̷̯͋̊̏̈́͑͆̎̋͝É̶̛̥̥̭̥̜̙͎̦̭͔͗̽̓ ̶̲̹̖̓͂͌̈́̌͋́͑̓͜Y̴͚̗̼̘̰̬̏́͌̿̔̄͌͘͘Ȍ̸̢̯̥̟̲̗̈̓͋̂̾Ụ̵̦̹̣̹̱͔̞́̀ ̷̼̄̉̉̍͌͐̈͘͝S̷͕̼̜̙̮̃̋̽̋̾̈͠͠Ç̵̪̙̜̞̫̠̯̊͆̎͜͠͝Ḁ̵̡̮̭̪̼̌͜͝Ṙ̵̨̝̘̻͖͇͔̆͊̆͊̽̓̋͜E̶͉͕͙̘̟͕̭͒͑̆͝ͅͅD̸̢̼̰̗̟͍̗̈́̑͗͜?̴̯͉̻̂̏͑̋̅̌̉͘͜

The question booms out in Angels head, sending shockwaves through his body and causing him to cling tighter to Molly, her shrieks of pain loud in his ear. Yes, he whimpered helplessly, he was terrified. He was so close to loosing her again he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything except cling to her.

W̵̧̥̹͎̖͌̎̌̍́̀́̌̆̽̈́̑̔̕̚Ĥ̶̢̧͙̮̻̯̭͎͕͇̣͓͉̱̋̒͊͜͠͝͝ͅÂ̶͖̣̰͓͖̔͑̔̀͐̆́̀̚͘̕͜͝͝T̴̛̛͈̮̮̲̪͎͓́̆͌͊̄̔͘̕͜ͅͅ ̸̲͐̂̈́́͂̍̇͝Ẃ̵̜̝̺͛͊͋͒̆̽͗̃͘͘̚͠Ȉ̷̩͕͙͕̦̪͙͚̟̫̻̙͖͍̋̊́͒̾̉͜L̵̢̟̩̾̿ͅL̶̨̨̝͈̤͙̺̯̗̳̪͖̑͒͗́̿̄̋̓̀̔̉̑͘͝ ̶͔̰̣͓̩̥̙͙̩̺̠́̓̿̽͊̋̃͛̀͐̎́͌͜Y̸̮͎͍̥̮̻͉͆̿͂̾̋̊͛͊̔̄̉́͘̚̚͘ͅO̸̡̖̱̗͎̬̙̼̗̒̈́͋̇͆̉̀̆̊̍͘̚͜Ư̶̩̦̺͖̲̽͗͌̏̔̀̀̿̃̀͂́̚̕͝ ̵̳̳̜́̈́̓͊̈́͂͂̇̃̈͗́̎͂̊͂D̵̘̤̼̙͓̼̼̑̅Ǫ̶̻͍̽̌͐̑̓͛̆̚͠?̴̘̹̳̻̰̝̗̻͖̉̐̑ͅͅ

To save Molly? Anything, he thought instantly. He would do anything to stop her pain and see her smile again, anything to hear her laugh and end her tormented cries. He would give anything, do anything to end this, to stop hearing her terror filled and anguished cries of pain. As it was, her screams would haunt him for the rest of his life, her screams were etched deeply forever in Angels mind. What remained of Molly’s body twitched and writhed in pain in his arms, “ANTHONY PLEASE!! ITS BURNING AWAY MY SOUL!! KILL ME PLEASE!!”

“Anything?” Alastor crooned, his cognac smooth tone a gentle kiss. The demon wrapped his standard solid frame around Angel, the back of his hand gently brushing against his cheek, the other wrapped around Angel’s shoulder under his arm, fingers toying lightly at the exposed skin of his shoulder through the rips of his sweater. Angel didn’t even react as the buck pressed his chest firmly to Angel’s back, too broken and traumatized, only able to focus on Molly’s screams, “ANTHONY PLEASE!! OH GOD ITS BURNING!!”

Angel gasped and turned his head into his own chest, jaw and eyes clenched in a body wracking sob. “MAKE IT STOP!” He yelled out, Molly and the Wendigo screaming, the jazz violent and wild in the swirling green magic that surrounded them, popping and burning against the fabric and flesh. Alastor leans in closer, nuzzling the spiders cheek, pressing his lips to Angel’s bloody temple, “Say it,” The Radio Demon lowered his eyes and caressed the spiders wet cheek, his free hand slowly wandering up Angel’s chest towards his throat.

Angel’s body was numb with pain and grief. His mind was blank, he could barely breathe. The screams, the ringing of his ears and Molly’s shrieking cries of pain echoed in his bones, her body twitching and screaming to die, the hollow call of the creature and the laughter of the shadows of demons blaring through the static of the radio. Angel stared defeated and broken into the eyes of his sister, her red eyes bursting with new tears with each wail of agony.

“I’ll do anything….” He rasped out, broken and hollow, “Just help her…. Make her stop hurting…” He curled into himself, eyes clenched, tears streaming through the cracks, his body rocking slowly as he sobbed, Molly screaming in his broken arms. “Make her stop…” he gasped weakly “M-make her stop….Make her stop…. ” He rocked back and forth sobbing, Alastor rest his cheek against Angels temple, a lecherous smirk plastered wide on his face, clawed fingers gently brushing through his hair, his free hand delicately clasped around his throat as the screams of the Wendigo suffocated the air.

In an instant Angels eyes snapped open, locked on the demon standing feet before him in the doorway. Alastor was standing still before him, staff in hand, arms folded behind his back, a syrupy wicked smirk on his face. Angel exhaled and looked down. He’s shirtless, no cuts on his hands, no bruises or scrapes or Molly in his arms. He’s fine, standing a few steps into a medium sized bedroom, a small fire crackling warmly to his right, a bed covered in purple velvet linens to his left.

Angel stared at the demon, panting, eyes wide in confusion, what the fuck…. What was happening…. It had all been so real, her screams still ringing in his ears… Other than some other random pieces of furniture, and some paintings, there was nothing out of the ordinary about where he was now, it was just a bedroom at the hotel not so different from Angel’s own further up the hall. Angels eyes darted around the room as he panted in confusion, this didn’t make any sense, what…. What the fuck had just happened…. His mind raced with fear and chaos, it felt so real, he looked down at his hands, they had just been soaked in her blood, he had just been holding her, sobbing as Molly begged for him to kill her… and now, they were clean, no cuts, no scrapes, no stabbing pain when he took a breath or ringing in his ears or screaming in the air….

Alastor tilted Angels head up ever so slightly with the tip of his claw, staring at him with the softest eyes. Angel jumped and gasped weakly in fear, he had been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Alastor approach him at all, “Darling,” The Radio Demon cooed, his smouldering gaze meeting Angel’s terror filled eyes, a crystal tear already tumbling down his cheek, “Are you sure you’re alright?” Alastor leaned in closer, brows twisted in concern, fingers gently tracing the line of the spiders jaw “you look a bit pale.” He tilted his face in closer, lips grazing Angels.

Angels eyes snapped wider in terror and he quickly retracted, turning quickly on his heel and pushing past Alastor, he launched himself off of the doorframe and down the hall, sprinting for the safety of his own bedroom. He had no idea what the fuck had just happened, but he never wanted it to happen again.

Alastors gleeful cackle rang after him down the hall, the demon tumbling over himself in hysterical laughter as Angel ran quickly away, fear etching a vow to never even look at the radio demon again. Alastor laughed in devilish delight as he considered what favor he would ask of Angel for ending his sisters pain. “He did say anything,” The Radio Demon mused, another wave of chilling laughter darkening the halls of the Hazbin Hotel.

#hazbin hotel #alastor x angel dust #alastor #angel dust #hazbin fanfic #hazbin angel dust #hazbin alastor #my boy is racking up favors

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strange-and-dynamic · 2 years ago

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Dateline: February 20th 2023

This one got a little disturbing honestly—

So the dream started with me and mom at the grocery store, buying food n stuff the usual, and then there’s these 2 creepy men behind us, one old man that kinda resembles the guy in the wheelchair from Detroit Become Human and another guy that’s taller than him and looks like,,, the tall dude in the brown shirt from Everybody Loves Raymond???

I could feel that their intentions were weird as they were following us, and then,,, the old man grabs the back of my right thigh (UH??? HEY DREAM GOD???) and I sharp turn back towards them shocked and scared and then they both smile and look at eachother (WHAT THE HELL???) so me and mom check out at some point, the 2 creeps leave the store after us (WITH NO SEEN GROCERIES IN HAND) and as I’m walking with her I’m holding on to her arm and I say “I hope they die” and she says something along the lines of “me too, we just gotta wait” (WAIT FOR WHAT???)

The segment after that one takes place in a huge park at night time, resembling this one area of Central Park I remember me and dad would walk through to leave, except this version was a bunch of hills and a single paved walkway going up and down said hills, with a few trees here and there, and the only thing to light the way were a few sparsely placed lampposts

And me and mom are walking down the walkway, and she randomly just starts BOOKING IT on the near endless walkway, I turn around to see if something scared her and it’s the old man from the first segment, alone, smiling, walking lazily as if he’s drunk (what is with drunk people being disturbances in my dreams—) I start running with her because I’m assuming her running and saying nothing was her attempt to get me running too without trying to scare me, but since this is a dream, I can barely run. so I keep picking up speed and slowing back down saying “I’m tired” or “my legs hurt” (I DONT KNOW WHY YOU DIDNT GRAB MY HAND OR STOP FOR ME THAT WOULDVE BEEN REALLY HELPFUL—)

And then after THAT segment, third and final one: it cuts to me and some other tween to teen girls in what looks like a tree house and it’s nighttime outside (and outside looks like the nighttime park for some reason) and we’re in a Magical Doremi fan club! But the version of Magical Doremi is way different, and we’re talking about some arc in it that basically goes like the story of me and mom in the nighttime park (that’s what I’m calling it now) but features little Doremi and her mom, who for some reason looks like an older version of Doremi’s little sister Pop, and in here apparently Doremi’s mom is named Jelly

But, instead of Jelly running away from the stalker without Doremi holding her hand, Jelly picks up Doremi and books it with her in her hands, kinda holding her like a baby as Doremi is a toddler here

And there’s also this part of the arc having to do with time travel and Doremi going back in time to see someone or something happen, and she finds out that the cancer patient witchling is Doremi’s grandma aka Jelly’s mom, and in this version of Magical Doremi, the cancer patient witchling either didn’t have cancer at all and was just bald, or the cancer was cured through magic, and her name here for some reason is Christian (I love when dreams change around names regardless of whether I can remember the name or not lol)

And then I wake up, for some reason immediately thinking of wanting to reconcile with my mom (I never did—)

I think my dreams are trying to tell me something... 🤔

#harassment mention #sa tw #magical doremi #ojamajo doremi #<- these tags being in the same post is CRAZY bro #nightmare possibly?#eye imagery #scopophobia #does it count as a nightmare if the content made you genuinely disturbed either during and/or upon waking up?#or do you have to wake up screaming?#dream blog #dream diary

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magical-glimpse · 1 year ago

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Heyy. It's me again! I had this dream a few days ago. I was somewhere, idk where but somewhere around people and there was music playing. And I was just sitting and drinking coffee. Then someone comes up from behind me and starts talking, which I do not remember what the context was but it somehow made me cry and that person talking to me wasnt someone I recognised. And then I walked away from that place to somewhere quiet. And there I was standing looking at the sea when I felt someone behind me, calling my name. And when I turned around it was some guy I don't remember ever meeting or seeing. It felt like someone new, one I've never met. And they start talking incessantly, and I seem to join in on the conversation and then out of nowhere they tried to kiss me and I pulled away and that's when I woke up. It literally felt like there was someone around me exactly before I woke up but I was alone in my home that day. My mom and brother were out on a trip. That gave me the goosebumps.

And this isn't the only time. A few months before this dream, I dreamt of the same person whose face I can never recognise or remember but I somehow know that it's that person in a setting where I'm out travelling and I probably lost something and I'm trying to frantically find it. But I can't, so I start panicking when our of nowhere this person comes in and hands me over what I was trying to find. And then calls my name and says something. And then walks away after getting me out of trouble from these people who were running after me for some reason and tries kissing me again. And I wake up that particular moment again feeling like someone was besides me on the bed stroking my face and playing with my hair. Watching me sleep? It's been happening like every few months. This is weird. Am I going crazy or becoming schizophrenic?

If there's any explanation you can find, it would be helpful or I'm just going to check into an asylum soon. 😂❤️🥲🥲

I hope you are having a much better day than I am.

And here're the most weirdest things. I had a really bad dream where I saw my dad dying and I thought I was being crazy and it must have been a bad horror movie reflection I might be having because of what I watched. But the same exact thing happened in the same exact way that I dreamt of and I remember waking up in tears and shaking because of it. I was scared of even thinking of this but it happened. Traumatising. But that didn't end there. My sister got married a week ago. And then a few weeks before her wedding, I had this dream where I saw somethings that went wrong and everyone was kind of disturbed about it, people were stressed out because of it. And the same exact thing happened in reality at her wedding, the exact same way. Am I like an omen or something? I mean there's something definitely wrong with me. 🥲

I dont think anything is wrong with you !I had similar experiences in both cases.

The first one is likely someone coming to visit you in your dreams but being a bit too eager lol you can totally tell them to bzck off or slow down tho

For the second part, i think you have a gift for seeing future events.I understand it czn be scary, but you have the choice to keep it or turn it off, or enhance it by working on it.in both cases you are not insane.If tmany of this causes you distress feel free to rezch out to a professional.

I hope your day gets better !

#dream analysis

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protokirby · 2 years ago

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I slept for 18 hours. A complete mystery how I'm able to remember the time I went to sleep with how otherwise disastrous my memory span is. Anyhoo, there's this thing that occasionally happens. Whenever I sleep, I always have my sleep disturbed somehow. I constantly wake up. That's probably why I'm always tired enough to go back to sleep all the way to the 24 hour mark sometimes, or one of the reasons. So yeah about the thing that occasionally happens... Sometimes during the times I'm awake for a few seconds before going back to sleep, the previous dream will give me a number to think in my head to continue the dream when I'm back to sleep. That sounds borderline supernatural or somethin- Though like- I remember one time, rather than think the number I was given, I had awake-enough thoughts that I was able to instead think "No way. I want to see Hop" and then Hop was in my dream after I was asleep in the next few seconds. Or at least I think it was Hop that time. I don't know if I'm remembering for sure. I'm most often too half asleep to go against the number I'm given but I want to try and learn to ignore the number and think of a character. I'll basically have a cheat to dream of whatever character I want if I become able to pull this off, assuming I can have an awake-enough thought. I totally would have wanted to see Leon instead of Hop and I remember when I woke up from the dream I basically chose to have, I had been questioning my choices in like a "I should have asked for Leon instead. I don't see him enough" kind of way.

Okay now... I'm going to talk about something that might confirm my status as a crazy person but idk. I'm just talking about weird experiences relating to dreams. Leon has not been appearing in my dreams nearly as much as he used to. It's been a few years, but I remember the exact moment he started appearing less. It was one night my sister was really keen on making sure I didn't get a good night of sleep. Before she had a mini house built in order to desperately get her away from everyone. So anyway, she kept randomly screaming because of dumb reasons like- idk she was out of underwear or something. The random "karen screeches" while everyone else was asleep was miserable. I was dreaming of Leon a bunch that night but unfortunately kept being interrupted by physical pain to my ears that just remembering is making fatigue pain hit the underside of my eyes. After a certain number of times of being woken up, I had this weird experience that felt so real I'm still questioning it. I was in my room with a realistic amount of darkness for the time of night it was. My eyes were realistically adjusted to the amount of darkness they would have been then. I could see sort of well, but I saw some figure standing over me and I heard Leon's voice, specifically the one from Pokemon Masters, call out and say "Why do you keep disappearing?" as in referring to why I keep waking up. I kept disappearing during the adventure we were having. Except I also had a realistic response to an unexpected entity in my room and kicked him in the face before I could comprehend who I was seeing. Then he vanished into thin air like a ghost or something and I went into another dream. And from that moment on, I haven't been seeing Leon in dreams as much. As if I scared him or something. Something that needs to be understood in order to further know why I'm blaming this moment, the strength in my legs are dangerous. I have accidentally put holes in the wall on several occasions by swinging my legs around. Yes, yes, you can call me a crazy person for thinking I scared Leon away from my dreams. I'm questioning my own sanity. Honestly, I keep praying that I'm able to remember to apologize to him during the rare times I do see him, but I've never been able to remember to do that and this whole ordeal keeps affecting my mental health in ways it shouldn't. Like- I feel like a monster because I feel so bad about what I did??? But it was a dream??? That happened a few years ago??? Anyway, I keep trying to find ways to increase my chances of seeing Leon in my dreams in order to increase my chances of apologizing to him. If anyone knows any like- hypnotism or whatever, I'm willing to try whatever agrees with my moral standards.

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icefrozendeadlyqueen · 2 years ago

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The Dove to the Vampire: Chapter 1

Pairing: Rosalie Hale x Stacy McCain (oc).

Warning: panic attack, Swearing, Mates, Dysfunctionality.

Words count: 3255.

Summary: Rosalie believes through the centuries her forever was Emmett only to finds out Forks has other plans. Throughout her Vampire life she had no doubt about it. Stacy has lived her Reservation High School experience to the fullest knowing that despite having beta blood running through her very veins – there is no wolf in her very future. Starting new year in forks high of all places thanks to her sister.

A/N: Do note, I am sorry for taking so long but my first language isn’t English, so I had to make sure everything made perfect sense or something similar to it.

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One day, Stacy wakes up to the reality no sister in the room parallel to her anymore not her obnoxious singing to whatever plays in her Spotify playlist. Houston loved to recommend songs as soon as Stacy stepped out of her room saying how good they were and such it was our little play every single Monday. She would usually plead that would be the day you would see reason and see her songs taste was as she loved to say, “Impeccable”. Stacy softly whispers to herself.

Stacy clenches her hands on her sheets a breath she takes deeply wishing to cry her pain away from every corner in her body. Her body laid rigid letting the minutes go by the clock hoping in some deep corner in her brain that her mother is no longer at home.

She wouldn’t be that unlucky right? Not twice in a row? Stacy legs move over the bed as slow as she could possibly do; what she didn’t have in luck she had in professional sneaks if that’s even a word.

Stacy puts her palm down on the bed to move herself forward ever so slightly to the edge of the bed and steadily taking a breath only when extremely necessary.

Every time of every day in the past 4 years has Stacy train herself little by little. Maybe it’s wishful thinking that she could train herself to trick the wolves outside her home.

“I still believe this is a mistake.”

Stacy abruptly stops her feet from touching the cold floor this Saturday morning setting her presence known to her mother. The voice is recognizable as that Stacy blue eyes shift to the door. Her handle turns softly not to disturb her sleep a soft sigh escapes Lucy, “Don’t mom me, Houston. You want Stacy to go to Forks High? I have no jurisdiction there.” Lucy raises her voice takes a deep breath her heels tick on the hard wood floors. Stacy takes a deep breath a thought in her brain repeats so vividly she believes she spoke it.

‘Time it right’.

Stacy holds her breath once more her eyes shift from her reflection in her full body mirror by the door and the door itself. The only thing stopping her mom is the thought she is sleeping. Lucy lowers her tone after Houston seem to stop talking in the other end.

“You don’t see the problem here, do you? Stacy hates the Cullens. Forks High School has more Vampires than Humans at this point; you want to send Stacy over there? Human Stacy?”. Stacy rolls her eyes at her own mother for ignoring the fact she is a witch. Lucy laughs at something that Stacy could care less.

“A witch? Houston don’t feed Stacy dreams. She has no wolf let alone inheritance of your father”. Lucy spits vile toxic like the mention of my father offends her and I having any connection to him near her is toxic.

Stacy holds down the lump forming in her throat to revolt let her sharp words wound Lucy so deeply no amount of healing could fix her up.

“I am her mother, I am sure I would have notice if my daughter showed signs of being a witch, Houston”. Lucy stops midway more steps she takes. A sigh escapes her lips, “I have you know! I have Stacy watch 24/7 to keep her safe”.

Stacy has been dealing those fateful 4 years ago, she thought that would be the worst she had encounter, her mom unjustifiably punishing her own daughter for no reason.

The strings of her heart shatter every time no matter what no matter when no matter who says it, she just have to paint a perfect smile on her lips and play that everything is perfect. Hell. No, hell doesn’t compare to the realization that her family is no more. Her family is broken beyond believe and there is nothing she can do to stop that.

Over time, the necessity to breath disappears, tears don’t feel like tears anymore, there is nothing that could even come close to hearing her mom proudly deny Stacy origins.

Nothing compares to a 14th year old girl finding out that one of the strongest werewolf blood runs through her veins despite your wishes; you aren’t granted that gift given to all your previous predecessors that came before you. Something that everyone around you said you’ll surely get so much you believed them even though you showed no signs of such gift.

Once I reach the reservation, their smiles aren’t a comfortable blanket. They are welcoming, but I have no idea if it’s because of my past or fear of my mother’s wrath.

Their lips smile weakly like shattering glass at every point; however, their eyes falter around like searching for an escape goat. It’s always the same. Forks makes it a little better over there I don’t exist to anyone whatsoever. I am a ghost blending in the shadows of every corner, a renegade with a mission to cease to exist.

Another raspy breath this time not being as quiet as before her heart rings in her ears beating even more faster than before like air felt as a distance cousin not able to reach her lungs. Thoughts nonexistent.

Stacy tries to call for help, but no words escape her lips. Stacy eyes wander around to her full-length mirror then her cabinets, her hands shake not sure when they started to shake, Stacy glance down placing her other hand to hold onto it to make it stop. It couldn’t happen right now when you were trying to be as quiet as possible.

“This is not what’s best for her!”, Lucy keeps screaming to the phone as her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Stacy takes a weak breath trying her hardest to align herself pick up the pieces before her mom finds out she is awake.

It was futile.

Stacy takes deep breath after another breath louder than her previous attempt her lungs call her to give them at least any type of oxygen. She tries once more a set of coughs welcome her attempt. A knock on her door Stacy glances towards it. Stacy feels sweat drips from her forehead.

“Stacy? Are you okay?”. Lucy knocks again turning the handle to see if it’s open. Stacy tries to stand up only to crashed face first to the floor. Stacy hears in the background as Lucy’s feet contact the door, bringing the door down with enough force.

Stacy tries to breath for a new set of coughs to come forth that’s when Stacy finds herself getting picked up in warmth hands that feel like something she hasn’t had in a long time. Home. Blue eyes crash with her mother’s staring down at Stacy as she is picked up bridal style wasting no time to rush out of the room.

-x-

Stacy opens her mouth to say at least anything as Lucy feet reach the outside every werewolf around the house rushes to get in the cars; however, Lucy runs in the opposite direction of the town reaching her hand to move Stacy closer to her body to give her enough warmth trying to help.

“It’s okay Stacy. I know somebody”. Lucy whispers into Stacy ears as she rushes at a speed Stacy sees colors instead of houses or cars. Lucy stops frantically searching a breath she takes her ears pick onto her target, “Edward. Don’t think I didn’t saw you”. Carlisle softly speaks a chuckle between words.

Lucy moves forwards finding herself on the second floor of the Cullens household. Every Vampire and Werewolf around turned to their intruder in completely shock. Her brown eyes lock with golden eyes as she opens her hands holding a shaking and sweating Stacy, “My daughter is having a panic attack… please. I didn’t know who else to turn too”.

“How the fuck did you made it up here?”, A black hair and brown eyes boy stood up as if offended he didn’t realized Lucy enter the room. A smirk paints in her lips dying soon after at Stacy state. Carlisle speeds to Lucy picking Stacy from her arms, “Alice helped me. Esme get everyone else out”.

A pixie like woman speeds out and back into the room while a blonde one stood up her golden eyes stare at Stacy intently like the air escape her lungs the minute we got in here. Lucy raised an eyebrow at her then glances back at Stacy.

“I am not leaving her alone,” Lucy follows Carlisle pushing hair from her face. Stacy continues to shake uncontrollably. Her eyes drift around the room Lucy hopes is to not register where she is, Stacy would kill Lucy, Lucy knows Stacy dislike of the Cullens.

Stacy eyes land on Carlisle her heart rings on his ears he gives her a soft smile.

“My name is Carlisle. Everything is okay; Stacy nod your head if you can understand me”. Stacy nods her head twice.

Alice speed to Rosalie extending her hand up, “Emmett. Don’t”.

“That’s good. You are doing a wonderful job”, Carlisle smiles placing Stacy on the kitchen counter only letting her go when he was sure she was seating, “We are going to play a game”.

Lucy glances back at the blonde woman with a name. Rosalie gets her hands out of another vampire whose hands were guiding her out the room. Rosalie walks back into the room slowly her golden eyes staring at Stacy. She walks inching closer but stops a breath she takes in. Lucy glances back to Stacy eyes locking with this vampire.

“Lucy,” Carlisle checks places a hand on Stacy chest her heart has normalize.

“An Angel”. Stacy calls out.

“A Dove”. Rosalie calls back a smile forms on her lips.

Carlisle turns his head around extending one hand up to stop Rosalie. He calls out to her, but all Rosalie could see is Stacy. Lucy looks between her daughter and Rosalie eyes lock like the world around them disappear. A growl escapes her lips as realization hit her mind like a truck hitting her hard. Carlisle stares at Lucy ready to kill Rosalie then back at Stacy eyes entangle with Rosalie’s.

“Rosalie. Don’t attack,” Carlisle tries to stop an incident for forming. Lucy takes a step forward.

“I will never hurt her,” Rosalie blurts clear as water from her porcelain lips a smile plaster on her lips keeping her eyes interlock with Stacy. Rosalie speed past Carlisle; Lucy launches forward to rip the Vampire away from her daughter.

Carlisle brought Lucy into an embrace stopping her from moving forward. Both move around to Rosalie moving two fingers forward using them close enough to seem walk on Stacy palms, “It’s supposed to distract you, is it working?”. Rosalie inches closer to Stacy.

“Well…”. Stacy whispers gulping saliva keeping her eyes on Rosalie golden eyes a blush covering her cheeks.

“What was I supposed to forget?”. Stacy asks gulping once more a breath she takes pushing some hair off her face.

“It looks like nothing.” Rosalie whispers inching forward to Stacy. A growl in the background from Lucy not liking this outcome one bit.

“Take your hands away from my daughter!!”, Lucy growls screaming at the top of her lungs, Carlisle holds his arms around her form. His eyes move back to Rosalie playing with Stacy who shrinks at Lucy’s words.

Rosalie stops the smile on her lips died instantly catching how Stacy shrank in size. Stacy’s blue eyes drift from Rosalie’s golden ones to her mother; Stacy looks back at Rosalie in a bit of concern whispers, “It’s okay. I have dealt with worst”.

“No”. Stacy looks back up at Lucy like something inside her just click for the first time in 4 years. She feels slightly brighter like the sun finally broke through the dark clouds in her life allowing her to breath what life had to offer and finding Rosalie sure as hell was not it. Not one bit, but despite how bad it looks for a family gathering how karma and destiny are laughing at Stacy’s parents right now, aren’t they?

Stacy couldn’t help to break out in a fit of laughter at the whole thing. Her dad hates Vampires with a passion, and Lucy is a werewolf that has the set rule that vampires are literally the devil.

Everyone stares at Stacy as if she had grown two oversize heads or had a concussion. Carlisle clears his throat about to say something to clear the confusion; however, Stacy beats him to it clearing her throat.

“Mom. Let’s not start this conversation now.” Stacy pushes hair out of her eyes back behind her ears. Her eyes never leaving Rosalie that seem to have calm once more not the daggers she sends Lucy two seconds ago, “When we get back home you cry to me how bad this looks or whatever not like you have taken everything else already”.

“Don’t take that tone with me, young lady”. Lucy eyes glow yellow like the verge of her humanity was question at this very moment in time. Carlisle turns in a flash stood in front of Lucy discussing with her without a word said his golden eyes keeping contact with her wolfish ones.

Rosalie closes her eyes taking a deep breath inching ever so closely to Stacy, her lips wide charming smile. Stacy looks at her like the world could have turn upside down and she wouldn’t have cared in the standing ovation that in reality without Stacy alternative motive Rosalie had made a vacation spot in her heart.

“Let’s leave them be for now”. Carlisle tries to stop Lucy growing discomfort racing thoughts in her little brain as her eyes dance from her daughter and Rosalie still though kind of alive light around Stacy. Carlisle brings Lucy’s eyes back to him like clockwork Lucy pushes past Carlisle trying to reach for Stacy.

It little, but it was enough. The intent alone Rosalie turn putting one arm over Stacy front the other to slap Lucy’s hand away just slightly as a way to say no, “I don’t think so”. Rosalie starts her golden eyes shine with the light in the room. A short but seemingly annoying smile paint on her lips less charming that her genuine one, Stacy thought. She ponders on how Rosalie genuine smile could light the room if she ever got to see it.

“Stacy expressed her mind just a second ago. Did you not heard her, or did you prefer not too?”. Rosalie asks not leaving much to Lucy to respond as she continues, “Are you the type of parent that does her way or the highway? If that’s the case let me make it heavenly clear to you. You can walk off and leave if so you wish, but Stacy isn’t leaving this house or my side or anywhere with you for that matter”.

Lucy growls shake the whole house and Stacy in it. Stacy glances up at Rosalie finding her nails ever slightly more interesting than Lucy who starts shaking at the apparent thought just clicking in her brain. Stacy stood frozen it has been a while 4 years to be exact since somebody had gone to step up for her like that to her own mother. The woman that in her mind couldn’t careless about well if she is a witch or not.

Rosalie looks up acknowledging Lucy glares.

“I am not a threat. I would never harm her”. Rosalie repeats the words she said not long ago. Stacy looks at her then her mother not sure why Rosalie keeps repeating that.

Stacy reaches out her hands to hold onto Rosalie’s cream sleeve blouse. The color did look good on her skin not much of a contrast for her pale skin; however, it looks good on her.

“It’s okay, angel”. Stacy blurts the nickname she believes fits perfect for Rosalie that really seems like the word if she stands still only needs to sprout out wings to fly off into the sunset, “Lucy will not harm me. She just wants to make sure I am okay after all I did just have a panic attack”. Stacy whispers each word softly taking breath in between them. Lucy glances down at her own flesh and blood, a nod she gave out to put truth to her daughter words.

Rosalie glances between them. Her danger level sky high willing to launch at the mom; however, she gulps anything she had inside her mind. She turns back to Stacy enjoy the idea of being next to her for however long they had, “Tell me, dove?”. Rosalie starts locking her golden eyes with Stacy. Her hands lock on the side of Stacy stomach pulling her up and down the counter with ease like Stacy weight absolutely nothing.

“Hey! I am heavy!”, Stacy protest that went unheard by Rosalie placing Stacy on the floor only letting go when Rosalie was sure Stacy could stand despite that Rosalie stood so close to her Lucy glares didn’t cease one bit.

“What’s your favorite color?”. Rosalie plays with golden locks from Stacy head waiting for the definitive answer.

“huh... Pink. Why?”. Stacy ponders confused of that question alone. She had though the first question a vampire had ask was something else entirely not her color preference.

“To get to know you better”. It was her response as she takes Stacy hands within hers leaving a soft kiss on them. Rosalie looks back at Lucy a glare of her own covering her golden eyes, “You need to get used to seeing me a lot more than now”.

“Rosalie. It’s time”. Alice clears her throat to the relief of Lucy hearing those words. Alice and Rosalie were out the room. Lucy grabs Stacy by the arm dragging her out the room with Carlisle behind trying to talk to Lucy who didn’t listen one bit. Stacy heard a couple of slipped words from them both speaking at a speed she had no idea her mom could even mutter words.

“This is the last tim-”. Lucy pushes the car door open dropping Stacy in it then shutting it. Carlisle appears in front of her soon after, “You know as well as I that separating them will set”.

Lucy opens the driver door then closes it again.

“My daughter is 17, Carlisle. 17. No. I am a mother first”. Lucy blurts out in shouts waving her hands in the air. Stacy rolls her car inside the car not sure what is going on but feels it has something to do with Rosalie. The anger that makes her feel she can pull up a cream blouse and not look like a total dead animal in it.

“We can figure this out just frequent visits”, Carlisle suggested his eyes fall to Stacy then back to Lucy whose thinks hard on such a decision. She looks to the trees then back at Carlisle, “Fine. Supervised visits. I will be present”.

“Of course”, Carlisle whispers gulping the lump in his throat. Lucy smiles satisfied at his answers opening the driver door to enter. Stacy asks what’s going on, but Lucy doesn’t answer what so ever. The werewolf around enters different cars driving after Lucy’s cars. Carlisle watching them leave down the streets a sigh escape his lips knowing this is another way karma is setting the wheels of destiny in motion.

#Rosalie Hale #rosalie cullen #rosalie twilight #rosaliedeservelove #twilight #twilight fanfiction #twlight sparkle #please anyone send some help my self steem in writing has recently died #if anyone has any suggestion pr anything related to twilight please reach out I would love to read it or add it #carlisle cullen #alice cullen #mate

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