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man-moth-hook-hand · 1 year

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Welcome to My Nighmare Ch. 2

I absoluty clown on david in this and my scrunkly boi deserves it. Also, I fully believe that Paul uses the most cheesy words/phrases in his speech. He’s pulling no bitches, he’s hypnotizing women to convince the boys he has sex appeal.

Master list

Chapter Two: The Freaks Come Out at Night

There was a dead guy on the porch of my new residence. Jesus-fucking-Christ, I’m with crazy people.

“Dad?” Lucy checked on the old man on the steps. “Dad?” She asked sounding more worried.

“If he’s dead, does that mean we get to go home?” Sam excitedly asked. Lucy gave him a stern look but was brought out of it by the dead guy.

“Playin’ dead. And doing a damn good job of it!” The old man finally spoke. Lucy hugged him, laughing off the encounter. She then told us to go inside and unpack.

“So, you’re living with us now?” Michael asked.

“Sorta,” It was kind of a complicated question, “I’m only staying until I can afford another place. Don’t get me wrong, you guys are nice, I just, Uh, want somewhere else to live. Plus, I’m sure it’s kinda weird for you guys. I mean you did just move states after your mom got a divorce and now you got some homeless kid in your house.”

“I guess.” Michael left it at that. “Well, it’s still nice to meet you. It’ll be nice having someone other than Sammie around.” Same gave him a dirty look for that.

Lucy introduced me to ‘Grandpa’ which I guess is what I was supposed to call him, the brought me to the attic. “It’s not very big, but,” she trailed off. I cut her off saying it was fine and that I was more than happy to have somewhere to be. It wasn’t really an attic anyway; it was more like a small room that had a few steps above the rest of the walkway. It overlooked a field in the back, I gazed out of the window and noticed some horses playing with Nanook. Horses are a symbol for total freedom from everything. I think maybe I finally got that freedom, even if it’s a little unorthodox.

In the room was a full-sized bed and an old chest of draws that came up around to my chest. At least there were sheets on the bed; however, they most certainly weren’t my style. It looked like someone’s grandma died and became the bed. It didn’t help that dust covered every corner of the room. I decided to unpack the few things then sweep. All my clothes fit in one of the five drawers. On top I set my Walkman, wallet, book, and new pair of sunglasses to give it a little bit of a homey feel.

“Here,” Mr. Emerson gave me some kind of taxidermized animal, “As a welcome gift.” He smiled at me. I smiled back and said thank you. At least it was kind of cute, it was a fox. I think. Maybe it was a janky coyote.

/|\^._.^/|\

Later that night, we clamored into the car heading for the boardwalk. It had such a different feel to it at night. I’ve always been a bit of a night owl, but oh my god this was beautiful. The lights, the salty air, the music, everything felt so alive! It wasn’t like during the day where kids rounded every corner crying and parents gave you dirty looks for wearing a crop top. No, at night, it was when the real freaks came out. Goth kids, weird surfer guys, bikers, and drunk teenagers flooded the area. They infected every corner, crevice, and as much surface area as possible. It was intoxicating.

I quickly remembered that I needed a job, fast, so I looked anywhere for a help wanted sign. I went into that bookstore from earlier, but the man just looked at me with pity. He gave some excuse of not being able to afford more people besides himself. Then there was a burger joint, the manager looked at my low-cut crop top before saying no. Seriously, what gives? I looked at a few other places and almost gave up, but a jewelry store had the sign saying HELP DESPRETLY WANTED, WILL HIRE FELONS. Couldn’t hurt, right? Every other place rejected me.

“Hi! How can I help you?” A girl a little younger asked me. She had long, straight, black hair and wore what some would consider too much blush. She was tan wit freckles, so I guess it events it out.

“Actually, I saw the sign for help wanted. Who should I talk to?” I asked as polite as I could. The girl yelled for a woman in the back.

A woman who looked like blonde Joan Crawford came out from behind a beaded curtain. She had dark purple eyeshadow and dark purple lips to complete her look. “I’m Ms. Brenda Cheney. I heard you’re looking for a job?”

“Yes ma’am,” I shook her hand and said It was nice to meet her. “When can I start?” It was a little bold, but damn I needed a job.

“Tomorrow!” she smiled while chewing her gum. “I like you kid. Be here by nine am, Jennifer will show you how to open.” Thank God. I introduced myself to Jennifer and spoke for a little bit. The rumbling of my stomach brought me out of it. I told her goodbye and that I would see her tomorrow.

After I ate probably a too processed hot dog, I noticed a really sweaty guy playing a saxophone. I didn’t usually go into crowds for fear of pickpocketing, but why the hell not? I literally just packed up and left home and I’m doing pretty good so far. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dude that looked like Billy Idol got his shit rocked and was washed out from fame. He looked disgusting, it was a little hot. The other looked like a tall, punk Shaggy, with longer hair. I think I would have been put off by a Scooby with him. They made eye contact with me. It was kind of creepy how much Billy Idol was into it, so I decided to lose him in the crowd.

I saw a familiar glimpse of black hair in the crowd and spotted Jennifer with a guy. “Hey!” I said. “Do you remember me?”

“Of course!” She said “You’re that girl that came in earlier, it’ll be nice to have someone other than Brenda and James around. This is my brother Adam,” She gestured to the guy beside her.

“Hey,” He was a little taller than me, freckles, dark brown curly hair, and best of all he had a nice ass. I noticed from when I walked behind them to catch up. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, do you guys mind if I follow you for a bit? I’m not from here.”

“Sure! I know all the best places here. Let’s do the Ferris Wheel, ice cream shop, then I’m thinking the movie rental. Sound good?” she asked.

“Sure, you seem like you got a plan.” I laughed. I scanned the boardwalk trying to locate where Jennifer was talking about, spotting the Billy Idol guy. He was just watching me. It was creepy instead of mysterious now.

“Oh, she’s bossy.” Adam piped up. I laughed, damn was he cute. Once we got to the front of the Ferris wheel they split us up into groups of two, I told them I’d catch the next one.

“I could be your rider.” The shaggy guy from earlier said, “I’m Paul, sugar."

“I’m not sugar.” I hated men like that. He apologized and asked if he could ride with me. I caved; he was weird but sadly I liked weird. I had to admit, he was decently interesting and had a good face. “And if you look over there, there’s a bridge that I jumped off of.” He pointed to a bridge not too far from here. He had been pointing to almost every location and telling me tid bits of his ‘adventures.’

I laughed, “It’s like when your mom asks, ‘if your friends jumped off a bridge, would you?’ I’ve always like falling from really high places, which is ironic since I have a fear of height.”

“Nah, it’s like flying,” we reached the top. “So, you looking to hang our with some cool cats?” Paul finger gunned me. “Oh, by the way, the coaster goes higher.”

“How charming, but no thank you.” I did consider it, only for a moment, “You’re really cheesy, ya know? And maybe I’ll ride the coaster with you.” I peered down into the crown and spotted that white haired guy again, Jesus Christ he’s persistent.

“Hey, that’s what draws the babes!” Paul said bringing me out of my daze.

“I don’t think it does Paul.” I had noticed we reached the bottom when the attendee pulled the safety bar off. I thanked Paul for riding with me and suggested the coaster again, he said he had to get going. Just when you think a guy’s into you.

“Who was that guy?” Jennifer asked.

“Uh, Paul. He rode with me, so you guys didn’t have to wait.” I explained.

“Oh, ok.” she said. I spent the rest of the night with the both of them. The ice cream was good, Adam is a strawberry guy. I noticed a glimpse of white hair in the distance. I should find Lucy and go home before it’s too late. What if he’s stalking me? Is he gonna kill me?

“What’s wrong?” Adam asked. He noticed I had been acting a little weird.

“At the concert that happened earlier, there was a guy and I made eye contact with him. I started noticing him at the Ferris Wheel and at the ice cream shop. It’s like he’s stalking me.” I felt weird explaining it to Adam, maybe it was all a coincidence.

“That guy got kicked off of the boardwalk a couple of days ago, that night, the security guard that kicked him off went missing.” Adam said. I guess I was making a weird face since he said, “Well, maybe it was just a coincidence, ya know? I don’t think he wants to kill you.”

“Ok.” I didn’t really believe him. “I think I’m gonna find my ride and head back home. It’s been really nice to get to know you guys.” I waved my goodbyes and made my way to find Lucy. I spotted Nanook about 30 feet away.

“Hi Lucy, are you about to leave?” I asked her.

“Oh, yeah. I was looking for Michael, but Sam said he wandered off with someone.” She dug in her purse for her keys. We clamored into the car and mentioned her new job at the video store.

“That’s nice, I also got a job to help pay for some rent. It’s at a jewelry counter here on the board walk.” I felt bad for what I was about to say. “My job starts at nine tomorrow, it’s ok if I can’t, but could I borrow your car to get here?”

“My shift starts at ten tomorrow, so I’ll just drop you off and wait for Max’s store to open up.” She explained.

“That’s great, thank you.” Thank God. I didn’t want to have to walk like 12 miles to get here.

Once we made it back to the house, everyone started to settle in for the night. Lucy gave me some pajamas and hygiene products. It was a set she was gifted and never used. They were still in date and actually smelled pretty good. After peeling off the clothes that reeked of other people, I scrubbed every inch of my body. My mind wandered to that man from earlier. I couldn’t understand why he was watching me.

I stepped out and dried off, thankfully Lucy’s pajama’s fit me. They had hearts all over them, it was probably also gifted in the bathroom set she didn’t use. I made my way into my room and began to close the window. A man with white hair. I quickly shut the curtains and went to bed. There’s no way he knows where I live. Even if he did, we would’ve seen headlight following us, right? Eventually, I found a way to calm myself enough to fall asleep. That’s a problem for tomorrow.

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys david #the lost boys paul #the lost boys marko #the lost boys dwayne #david the lost boys #paul the lost boys #david x reader #david tlb #paul x reader #paul tlb #dwayne the lost boys #dwayne tlb #marko the lost boys #marko tlb #david x rear

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corrodedthorn · 2 years

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mirage | series teaser

>>pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader >>genre: best friends to enemies to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, a little bit of fluff if you squint >>content warning: it'll probably get really dark in general so depression, ptsd, panic attacks, suicide thoughts, near death experiences, some canon typical violence, death, murder mentions, mentions of alcohol and drugs abuse, swearing, smoking, mentions of blood, arguments, spoilers for basically all seasons, bullying, Jason (that explains everything), use of guns and knives, nighmares, a lot of miscommunication

>> long summary:

In his entire life, Eddie had one person he could call his best friend. Well, he had, because right after the well-known Starcourt Mall fire, after many weeks of secrets and lies, their paths turbulently parted. A few reckless sentences, forgotten dates and secrets that were never meant to see the light of day. That was all it took for the piercing frost of indifference to envelop them. The world around them was on fire, but their hearts remained painfully frozen. They stubbornly stayed in the cold of misunderstandings, stabbing glares and tearful words. Once so beautiful, unstoppable. Now, like strangers, they send only vague glances in each other's direction. However, after months of piercing silence on both sides, when the corpse of his schoolmate rested on the floor of Eddie’s trailer, and the city began the hunt, it is she, along with Dustin and the group, who shows up on his hideout's doorstep. The moment he saw her face, unhealed wounds began to bleed again and desperation to get answers reignited in his mind. Instead of answers, though, more and more questions were floating around in the atmosphere. Why did she come to his rescue? Why did she disappear from his life in the first place? Why were her eyes filled with a void so heart-piercing that it froze Eddie to the bone? What really happened in the summer of 1985?

READ NOW

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader

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avatar-of-procrastination · 2 years

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MADNESS AND MAYHEM — 1

A.N : Heya! So this is a mini series that i have kinda planned out. I've never written anything like this so please bear with me. Please leave a like and comment about how it is! Reblogs are always appreciated <3

English is not my first language, please pardon any errors in spelling or grammar

Summary : You , the goddess of protection and light were married to Loki. After he died Wong welcomed you to the Sanctum and you have lived there ever since, learing the ancient mystic arts. When Strange lands himself in trouble with Wanda and the Multiverse, you find yourself facing your own nighmares with him.

Pairings : Dr. Strange x platonic!reader, Loki x wife!reader, Wong x platonic!reader

Warnings : mentions of death, nightmares and all thing you can expect in a marvel fic. I have written this as a fem reader. This fic is not exactly canon compliant but takes place during the multiverse of madness. So, SPOILERS FOR M.O.M UNDER THE CUT

>>> part 2

*not my gif*

"NO NO NO. LOKI NO!!"

You woke up in cold sweat. It was the same nightmare all over again. You were having a lot of them the past few days. The image of Loki's lifeless body was still etched into your mind years after the incident.

After deciding to ditch the idea of trying to get any more sleep, you dressed up and went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee where you met Wong. He noticed your heavy eyes and smiled sympathetically. You talked to him about the recurring nightmare and he was looking into the ancient books for a solution. He was the one who offered you a home in the Sanctum after the Loki's death. The both of you started a beautiful friendship, born out of grief over lost ones. You fought alongside the Avengers and after the defeat of Thanos, Wong insisted that you continue residing with them in the Sanctum.

Stephen was hesitant at first but he soon warmed up to you. The three of you were each others pillars in the darkest of times and you were grateful for them.

You took your cup of coffee and headed to the library. You were researching about a lost relic when Wong burst in, mumbling something about Stephen being a pain in the ass and being a literal magnet for trouble. You carefully closed the book before following Wong out the portal, and almost being squashed to death by the alien-octopus creature.

Stephen saw the two of you exit and waved towards you, the distraction enough for the monster to swipe him off his leg. You rolled your eyes at his stupidity before transforming your robes into your war armor. You noticed the monster thrashing its tentacles around, causing a massive chunk of a wall to fall down on innocent civilians. You ran quickly and sent a surge of energy towards the people, creating a shield of blue energy around them. A little girl looked up at you in awe before her father dragged her away from the rubble. You heard Wong screaming at Stephen and turned to find the monster holding both of them tightly, all the while running after a young girl. Stephen managed to get himself out of the monsters grasp and you conjured a blue sword and cut ff the tentacle that held Wong. The monster wailed and thrashed around, sending you flying into a nearby wall. You grunted and stood up shakily, pretty sure you bruised your ribs and sprained your ankle during the crash.

Trying to get your bearings in control, you saw the monster climbing up a building to the little girl while Stephen flew up tried to distract it. Breathing heavily, you motioned to Wong to open a portal to the top of the building near the girl. You limped towards the black haired girl and called out to her, telling her to walk through the portal but she was frozen in fear. Stephen screamed as he uprooted a lamp post and struck the eye of the monster. Its tentacles crashed into the ledge you were on, sending both you and the girl flying down. You quickly created a shield around you and the young girl and landed on the ground softly. Stephen and Wong ran up to you and Stephen caught the girl just as she was about to run away. Stephen and Wong were talking to the girl but you couldn't focus on their words. You felt a pair of eyed trained on you. You looked around, expecting to find someone ready to pounce on you but you only saw destroyed buildings and rubles. Shaking off the feeling, you followed Strange and America, the young girl, into the New York Sanctum.

Tags : @nova-reaper-universe

( dm me if you wanna be added <3 )

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dreamanduality · 3 months

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post january in post modern astrological musings

January felt so long.

i keep reminding myself that the time hasnt sped up yet.

were still on a country road but now we have to pee with no rest stop in sight.

trying to bridge the pursuit of every day life when our thoughts are elsewhere.

trying to navigate, 'what more can be done' in listless thoughts.

within personhood of the year unfolding.

there has been so much death and illness and accidents this month--all around. if you have had bouts of misfortune please don't minimize this because of what is happening globally.

folding in can bring moments of relief.

every month for the rest of the year is going to bring forth their own themes and notes of foreshadowing in the years to come.

information has and will continue to pick up, though not in speed or clarity. in the grappling of general awareness.

fear has shifted like a light switch back to what we saw with the taste of Pluto in Aqua and we still have a skip back into Cap to come.

so, keep it simple. things are not simply wrong or right. in all things we can move sometimes in a 'bad' way for a 'good' cause.

we have to remember how we move. conditioning can bring about movement in opposites.

Uranus in Taurus is leading the food crisis and labor movement, keep educating yourself in these points. keep making connections in the ways of mutual aid.

keep taking the time to understand labor rights and how to organize for them. this will be more impactful than occupy in time.

dream big, and i mean delusionary big, the last decade has been filled with spiritual elevation & delusion--so run with it now that Saturn is in pisces, ground out the dreams of humanity.

come june, there will be a point before a release of what we have come to believe and what the beliefs that shoot persecution like arrows have created--universal law & universal ethics are not mutually exclusive.

there are beautiful dreams that will find Daddy Saturn's approval there is also pressimistic practicality, and nighmares of quicksand--maybe only parts will be solidified but those parts WILL be solid.

we have to remember that sometimes subtle conversations held in compassion can be more powerful than a sign.

we have to remember not to shame others for not knowing or not being able to strike or make it to a march...or what have you.

look at what we are doing and keep encouraging this instead of pointing out who is not.

#traditional astrology #astrology #astrologer #saturn #astro community #horoscope #labor rights #workers rights #capitalism #free Palestine #land back #indigenous #anti imperialism #global strike #occupy #sailor moon #the magicians

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vanbredevoort · 9 months

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starter for @okruchlodu

Walking was a nighmare. Taking a deep breath was a luxury because there was a living being inside of her that did not like sharing space with her lungs. Fatigue was her new best friend.

It was a bad idea, and she didn't have enough fingers on her hands to count the reasons. Summarizing it to the important ones, being eight and a half months pregnant and alone took a secure top spot on the list.

Lydia did not usually venture out without Vilgefortz, but she did not like being a burden. And at this point of her pregnancy, she was the definition of one. It's just a quick trip to the market, she thought. If he knew-- She could blame it on the hormones, but guilt was a known feeling. After all, she had promised that this time she would let him protect her. And now---

"Oh, now you're kicking", she whispered, a hand placed on her swollen, oh very swollen belly, "Am I going to get scolded by both of you? Fine. Fine. I'm going home--"

She turned around and all she could see was black, violet and red. Black curls, loose and apparently wild but in reality brushed to perfection, beautiful violet eyes, and her own ANGER turned red. Fingers closed into fists. Walking turned to running.

"You... YOU!!", she screamed as she approached her, "YOU KILLED HIM!"

#okruchlodu #·· v; the experiment / VERSE3 #·· illusion / IC #( RUBS HANDS TOGETHER )#( EMOTIONAL TRAINWRECK INCOMING )

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spencerssoup · 2 months

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ive spent so much of my life wishing to be pretty, but lately its the thing i fear. i used to want to be painted, beauty shining through every brushstroke, but now? i never want to be stuck, frozen in time, presereved in that manner. like some dorian gray-esque nighmare, i will grow old and rotten and sinful, and my portrait will stay the same. please dont paint me. if you do, paint my soul. an atropy-ridden body, skeletal in nature. freakish, terrible to lay eyes upon. paint me ugly. paint me true.

#bug babbles #just me rambling #notes app #thoughts #the picture of dorian gray #pretty #ugly

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heavensbeehall · 3 months

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"Catching Fire", Chapter 14

Part 2: The Quell

Chapter 14: Katniss knows she won't write goodbye letters to her family. Effie has an idea. They watch the recap. Katniss has nighmares so Peeta and she watch the tape of Haymitch's games. Haymitch says his trick with the force field was almost as bad as Katniss with the berries.

Thoughts:

-- A lot of faves first appear in this chapter. I am excite.

-- The Victor of the 25th Hunger Games is not in the lot Effie sent. Peeta thinks "they must be dead." I suppose the Victor could've just had cancer or drinked themselves to death. I immediately suspected foul play though. I always assume the Capitol is up to something.

-- I might have to put my thoughts on Haymitch's games in a separate post. SO MUCH HAPPENING.

Quotes:

"I had it especially done to match Katniss' pin. I was thinking we might get you a golden ankle band and maybe find Haymitch a gold bracelet or something so we could all look like a team."

Effie expresses herself with fashion, guys. She had her hair done to match Katniss' pin before the Reaping to show her solidarity. IDK why this makes me want to cry. It's not rebellion really. It's more like Effie is like one of those sportsball fans who paints themself in their team's colors. Except she's not just rooting for 12 to win some trophy, but to live.

If he were the tribute, he would have owed Peeta nothing and could be as drunk as he liked. Now it's going to take all he's got to keep Peeta alive in an arena full of his old friends, and he'll probably fail.

I think we're all lucky Haymitch wasn't the tribute in that case. Being hungover in the clock arena sounds miserable (so much lightning and noise!) Although maybe if Haymitch and Katniss had been the tributes they would've just jumped off their podiums and high-fived each other before drowning themselves in the sea?

In the history of the Games, there have been seventy-five victors. Fifty-nine are still alive.

33 victors are NOT reaped but killed between now and the end of Mockingjay. More than die in the Arena. You actually had a better shot if you volunteered. (Congrats, Enobaria.)

Effie makes hushed, distressed comments like "Oh, not Cecilia" and "Well, Chaff never could stay out of a fight.""

I understand the "not Cecilia comment" since we are later told that she has three small children. Did Chaff volunteer? Or is it just he got reaped so "oh well he could never stay out of a fight"?

I try to make some mental record of the other tributes, but like last year, only a few really stick in my head. There's the classically beautiful brother and sister from District 1 who were victors in consecutive years when I was little. Brutus, a volunteer from District 2, who must be at least forty and apparently can't wait to get back in the arena. Finnick, the handsome bronze-haired guy from District 4 who was crowned ten years ago at the age of fourteen. A hysterical young woman with flowing brown hair is also called from 4, but she's quickly replaced by a volunteer, an eighty-year-old woman who needs a cane to walk to the stage. Then there's Johanna Mason, the only living female victor from 7, who won a few years back by pretending she was a weakling. The woman from 8 who Effie calls Cecelia, who looks about thirty, has to detach herself from the three kids who run up to cling to her. Chaff, a man from 11 who I know to be one of Haymitch's particular friends, is also in.

First appearance of my beloved Mags! Also I'd like to see the footage of Johanna rolling her eyes as they brought out the reaping bowl with just her name in it. It also means Johanna has known for months that she is going back to the Arena. I wonder how she handled it compared to Katniss?

After the anthem, they show President Snow drawing the envelope for the second Quarter Quell. He looks younger but just as repellent.

So Snow definitely moved up from Gamemaker to President by 50. But Finnick says he was a "young man" when he rose to power so I am thinking he became President around 25. Anyone else have thoughts on this?

#thg reread #catching fire #mags flanagan #chaff #finnick #johanna mason #quarter quell #coriolanus snow #president snow

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short-black-diamond · 2 years

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Flower Breathing. [1.Chapter]

A/N: Heya, I wanted to write abt demon slayer a bit, and now i am starting a story, yay! Also, this is a various demon slayer x reader fanfic, but I guess it’ll mostly be the trio (Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Inosuke) and female reader, reader’s name is Yena, and the pronouns are she/her.

Warnings: Angst? I dunno I am still shit at writing angst.

---

“Yena, where are you??? Come here this instant!“, your mother called from upstairs in her singsang voice.

“Yes mother!!“, you yelled. You could already see her annoyed face, how her nose scrunched up, her yes a little lidded as she would scold you about not cleaning a speck of dust away.

...

Your family was known for having the best eyes in town. Often, people who lost their kids, cats or sheep, came climbing up that little mountain your father has bought for the family to have peace and nature around them. Even doctors visited and asked for closer inspection of a patient they have brought too.

You could see every single person from the window of your room. how they talked to each other. you could read lips as well. so you new when somebody got engaged or married, or a new product came on the market, or some new drama between two families has started.

All in all, the Hideyo’s were known for their good eyes.

...

And running you came. you and your mother woke up early to do the chores in the house.

Your two elder brothers and your father were still in their beds, sleeping safe and sound.

It was early in the morning, the sun was not up yet.

“Yena!“

“Mo-“

You saw her. Her dislocated head, glassy eyes, that weren’t having a target to look at, until...

until they landed on you.

Mother ?

“Ye...na...come...here...!”, she croaked, an arm slowly extending towards you.

Her voice wasn’t the same.

Not the same, featherlight voice you knew. Not the same eyes you loved looking into with such adoration. That was not you mother.

That...

That thing...!

That was a demon.

Her arm touched your cheek. You let her touch it. She gently patted you.

“Listen, Yena...Before i...before i turn...“, she started.

You already knew. you saw her pulse fastening a little with every breath, her ragged breath that she took.

Her eyes were locked with your watering ones. your lips were trembling. Your eyes, which were filled with tears, focused and unfocused on hers.

Then she felt like crying too. “I want you to know...that I love you...

I love you...okay...?

I will always love you!

No matter what happens!

You hear me!?”, she cried. Her skin became pale, veins getting out of her delicate and soft skin.

Her hair was the only thing in its place, a beautiful colour-that you had too-, meanwhile her face contorted in pain. Her teeth got sharper.

“Yena...! Take that ....axe over there...!“

No.

Please.

Let this all be a dream.

A bad dream...!

A nighmare!

Please! Dear God, let this all be just a bad night-

“And kill me!“, she yelled in pain, tears now streaming down her twisted face.

“Mama...?“, you whispered. you couldn’t move a finger. Not even a muscle.

You got deaf.

“Hurry! Take it and chop off my head!“, she mouthed. then she collapsed.

You slowly closed your eyelids. Then you opened them again.

Your little brother began to cry.

“Maaa! Maaa!“, he cried. He woke up. and wanted to get back to his mother.

in front of you, your mother lay. she had her face down. But you had the axe in your hand. You had to do it quick.

you had to kill your own mother.

...

But why?

Because she became a demon?

Can’t a demon live with humans? Couldn’t your mother act like nothing ever happened? Ignore her now grayish skin? Her sharp teeth that could possibly even break bones?

No.

It was impossible.

Her hunger for human blood. The scorching sun. Your mother fell from the clouds of heaven and into the pits of hell. and now, a demon was slowly arising in front of you.

...

Your axe was now in front of you. in both your hands. your eyes directed to a bigger, massively bigger from of what was once-

No!

Don’t think about it!

This is not your mother!

...not anymore.

Dear mother...

You held the axe up. The demon growled, before pouncing on you.

I want you to know...

You stepped to the side, barely dodging the attack.

That I have always loved you...and i will keep on loving you.

You still heard your brothers cries. you ran out of the house. the sun was slowly making its way up, over the mountains, but it still took some time to show itself. The monster was hot on your heels, destroying everything that came into its way.

I will look after my brothers. I will look after father. I will look after the house.

Now, you were panting. you hit the demon a few times with your axe and managed to cut off one arm, one ear, and one toe.

I, Yena Hideyo, your only daughter, and third born child, promise to you, mother-

The demon’s yell interrupted your thoughts as you stepped sideways, and you lifted your axe one last time.

That I will be a true woman to call, I will lift all your sorrows, I will be a true daughter to my father, and an even better sister to my brothers! I will be the anchor of our family!

“Here I stand!”, you cried.

“And I love you! Forever!“

You sliced her neck. Her head fell clean off.

The sun came. Your brother came.

“Yenaaaaa!“, he cried. He was standing by the door and reaching out his hand to you.

Your mother was in flames. You were facing your little brother now. “Let’s go inside, Yonatsu.”, came softly out of your mouth.

You held his hand in one of yours, and in your other hand was still the axe, covered in your own mother’s blood. you were in a trance, as if you haven’t just cut your mother’s head clean off.

As if you didn’t just cut her out of your life.

Of course, he still cried. He just saw you kill somebody. and now that somebody, who was once your mother, was nothing more than a pile of ash.

he...he wouldn’t even remember her. He was too young, after all.

In your house, you could see all the mess. The stairs had holes in them. The walls had scrapes, from the nails of your mother.

and blood.

But...whose was it?

Hers? Yours?

But then, you noticed another thing.

The blood came from the rooms of your brothers and father.

Please.

This can’t be...!

How?!

You let go of Yonatsu’s hand and stormed into every single room, in hopes that they’d still be alive, but they weren’t.

Another demon...

Another demon was here!

Your mother couldn’t have eaten them all! She wasn’t even a demon until you saw her turn into one!

Or...Could she turn into your mother? Was this person even your mother? The woman, who brought you to this world, the woman, who brought you a little brother? Or two elder brothers?

The woman who scolded you for not cleaning stuff properly?

The woman, whom you admitted your crush on the quiet and shy boy from downtown and who told you to follow your heart?

The woman who cooked you your favourite meal whenever you asked?

The woman who laughed with you. Cried with you. Held you close to her?

The woman whom you truly loved?

Did you just kill that exact woman?

Or was it just a demon who played with you?

But that couldn’t be....no...!

The demon would have been burned to ashes too, because the blinds were widely opened, so that every single room would have been lit up.

Or the demon might have already gone after attacking your mother and didn’t notice you.

Eitherway, it was horrible.

Your brother was still crying. “Yenaaa! Mamaaaa!”, he was still crying for your mother.

You went outside again, and Yonatsu followed you, taking your free hand.

You laid the axe next to the door and sat down.

What now?

...

“I am so sorry, miss Hideyo...!“, the elder lady said.

you have packed your most important things, as well as Yonatsu’s things, which consisted of money, jewelry, clothes, food, some of your younger brother’s toys and your axe.

You said goodbye to your family that you buried, to your house, to your garden, where you collected some flowers, wistencies were your favourite (you packed them into an extra box so that they wouldn’t dry, or die out). And you didn’t look back when you left. You never wanted to set foot on that house again.

You made your way to lady Hinako, the eldest woman in your little hometown.

You were in your black clothing, no day for happy colours, and your little brother, Yonatsu, was silent. He must have sensed your sadness. in the beginning, he wiped his and your tears away, but he stopped after some time, because the dam was broken and it was okay to cry.

Now, Yonatsu was glued to your side. Your hair, that you have cut just a little over your neck, before coming to lady Hinako, was brushed to the side, and you have cut Yonatsu’s hair too.

Now, with your package on your back, a little purse in your left hand and your little brother’s hand in your right, and a sloemn expression on your face, you were looking like a grown woman.

You were standing in front of her door with her in her own home, and you refused to come in, too in guilt and shame in your heart and soul to come in.

“I feel so hollow now,”, you started, “I have no idea what to do now. Please,”,

You looked at the elder woman and lowered your head. “Tell me what i can do now. I have nobody i could possibly ask to stay in. I guess i should start a new life and get into another city.”

“What?! Are you out of your mind? It is impossible for you to get into another town, we are days apart from the other town, Miss Hideyo, days!“, she called.

“The demons will get you by the first moments of dawn! Please, come in, and stay a little!“, she plead. Her slim eyes were filled with sadness.

You finally allowed to your feet to move and soon you sat in the kitchen with your little brother on your lap eating sweets and her pourring tea into dark blue cups.

“You could help me with my chores, Miss Hideyo. And in the meantime, i will send a message to an old friend of mine.“, she said, giving your cup three spoons of sugar.

“I don’t mean no disrespect, but wouldn’t it be bad if you had a girl in your house who murdered her own mother? People would be talking about it...!“, you whispered, in fear of nosy ears.

See, her house was in the middle of the city and it was already embarrassing enough for you to go to her house with both women and men looking your way.

“The townspeople will find out eitherway. also, that friend of mine will take you in, I’m sure of it.“ Her tone seemed promising.

“But until i get to write that envelope, send it, and get an answer back, you will be training, to be able to protect yourself, your brother, and the people in your area. Under my circumstances.“, now, there was a dark undertone in her voice.

But, looking at her, her gentle, wrinkled face, you couldn’t see any evil motive.

Only honesty.

Would lady Hinako help you?

There was only one way to find out...

...

“Swing your axe harder, Yena!“, the woman called.

“And control your breathing!“

How the hell should you control your breathing?

When you have taken the life of your mother just a few hours ago?

But could you still call that demon your mother?

The woman, whom you had loved the most in your life, an angel, has turned into a twisted curse.

Her voice has turned into a broken cello. Her face, as if scrubbed around with a metal sponge. Her hair, just like yours, in normal shape.

Her eyes, equal as ice, and her body, not the one of a woman, but of the devil himself.

But still, you still loved her. Even when she could have eaten you.

And your brothers?

Your father?

In their sleep, murdered, decaptivated. Eyes wide open and mouth stilled in a petrified scream. Blood all over the place.

Who killed them?

Who was that?

Just the thought that somebody, some nasty demon, would hurt your family...!

You saw red.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!“, you screamed and swung your axe to the ground.

The ground shook to your very feet. And you made an earthquake.

“YENA, CONTROL YOUR ANGER! DON’T GIVE IN INTO THE DEADLY SIN OF WRATH! CALM DOWN!!!“, lady Hinako’s voice screamed into your ear.

You flinched. in your rage, you hadn’t realised that a few feet around your body, the ground was broken, and some trees fell to the ground, their roots outside.

Lady Hinako herself had dishelved hair, her eyes were wide open in horror.

She was breathing heavily and holding onto her wooden walking stick for dear life.

Even Yonatsu woke up from his little nap and began crying. You lay down the axe and brought your little brother back to sleep.

...

Control your breathing? How? It’s an subsconscious mechanism of the human body, just like a beating heart or a sneeze!

And your father...your mother...your brothers...!

It sounded pitiful, but you were glad that you still had your little brother. But could you call him that?

What if, later in life, he found out about you killing his and your mother, find out about the real reason his brothers and father are also dead?

Would he forgive you? Would he still talk to you? Sure, he’s barely four years old and speaks in three word sentences, but still.

...

Meanwhile, Lady Hinako eyed the picture of your outburst.

At least a radius of twenty feet of beautiful and peaceful nature was destroyed.

With an exasperated sigh, the elder woman took your axe and took it inside.

You still had a long way to go to become a demon slayer.

...

“Yena, I am proud of you for doing the chores and my house hasn’t bein shining like this in ages, but please get back to your training.“, Lady Hinako pleaded, giving your shoulder a pleading squeeze.

You didn’t want to shake of her hand, yso you let it rest there. as for her plea, you didn’t know if you could fulfill it.

“I am terribly sorry for what I have done to your space of Nature, lady Hinako, and cleaning has always been my forte. But I don’t think that i could ever swing that axe like...like that-scenery-again.“

You sighed, while you watched Yonatsu pick some flowers, “I wish there wouldn’t be demons existing. That way, there wouldn’t be so many people dying.”

The elder woman looked at you for a long time before standing up with a smile and beckoned you and your brother to come with her.

---

um, how did y’all like that?

Was it okay?

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booksaremylife27 · 1 year

Text

A Court of Deception and Lies Chapter 1

Summary: Acotar fic set after the events of Acosf in which Tamlin tries to reconcile with Rhysand and his court. Tamlin is only met with solid hatred. As he starts to convince the court he has changed, the unforgiving Night Triumphant and his Stars Eternal are made aware of a deep secret the High Lord of Spring has been keeping under wraps for hundreds of years. The secret keeping Tamlins well manicured house of cards together. If this secret gets out, it could reveal the web of deception and lies Tamlin has spun to continue being High Lord.

Feyre awoke just like any other day. Rhys was sound asleep next to her, his wings and hers still entwined, a reminder of the particularly entrancing night they’d had after their friends and family left their now practically daily dinner together. She could still feel his phantom kisses on her neck and other, unmentionable places. She remembered the way they ached for each other, devoring the other as if they were both dying tomorrow. She recalled a time when dying tomorrow was a very valid possibility. Her only reminder that those years are behind her is the bundle of cloth and wings laying just between her and her mate.

Nyx must have wormed his way in between them at some point in the night, his own wings beating just slightly, his only tell that his dreams are less pleasant than usual. On a normal day, Feyre might have laid still in bed and watched Nyx and Rhys sleep until one or both of them woke up. She might have admired the way Nyx inherited his glistening golden skin from his father, or his eyes from his mother.

But today was not the usual day. Today, Tamlin and a few sentries, are visiting the Court of Nightmares on what the High Lord of Spring calls a ‘peaceful conversation’. Rhys and Feyre were reluctant to play host to Spring, even after Tamlin agreed they would settle for meeting in the Court of Nighmares and not Velaris. Nobody could forget how Tamlin allied with Hybern during the War.Regardless if even when it came down to the wire, he chose Prythian, and saved Rhys’ life.

It was Elain, Elain of all people, to convince the rulers of the Night Court to at least hear what he had to say. Nesta and Elain will babysit Nyx while all of the Inner Circle, save for Mor who didn’t want to deal with her wretched family, will accompany their High Lord and High Lady to the Court of Nightmares, impatiently waiting Springs’ arrival.

So, Feyre heaved herself out of bed and posisioned Nyx so Rhys now held him. Any trace of her magnificent wings gone, she started her daily routine.

——————————————————————————————————

A few hours later had Feyre, dressed in a beautiful sleeveless black dress, cinched at the waist to show off her curves, gossamer fabric flowing down to her ankles. Her hair, tied back in intricate braids courtesy of Nuala and Cerridwen, leaving only room for her crown.

This time Rhys’ crown of choice for her is one with a large black stone at the center with slightly smaller white diamonds encircling her head. Speaking of the devilishly handsome High Lord, he is clad in is usual attire for these occasions. A black suit, cut especially for his body, and his own matching crown, he has one made in advance to match his picking for her.

A united High Lord and High Lady, who happen to match outfits. Blue and red Siphons gleam as their respective owners land on the platform at the House of Wind,their general meeting spot before going to the Court of Nighmares, or anywhere really.

“ Are you ready, darling?” Rhys asks, already twisting Feyre to face him, gathering her in his arms, wings positioning into flight.

“Were you really about to leave without me?”

“Of course not Amren, we knew you’d show up,” Cassian remarks, no trace of the High Lords’ General, not yet anyway.

Amren, even though she’s only High Fae now, is still Rhys’ Second, the people are still afraid of her, unworldly being or no. Right now she looks more unworldly than High Fae, dressed in her usual fashion just with more expensive jewels, she would be gorgeous, if that was a compliment she would take.

No, she just looks good. Beyond, even.

“Are we doing this or what?” She responds, Feyre didn’t even notice how long they’d just been standing there until Amren spoke. Azriel sweeps by Cassian, grabs Amren, firm but gentle and takes to the wind before anybody can get a word in.

“Are you ready darling?” Rhys asks again,

“Of course, just don’t mess up my hair. Unless you want to deal with the twins.”

He chuckles, “Never,” Then they are in the air. Feyre can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips, she doesn’t think she will ever be entirely used to it.

Once they are on the ground they split up. Amren and Feyre winnow in first, Everybody who was previously occupied doing something else found that something else to now be watching their High Lady and her Second walk in to the dimly lit cave, both wearing a disgusted, disinterested face. The face that both of them had had practice with over many years, or centuries in Amrens’ case.

“We, we weren’t expecting you,” A voice that made her go murderous said.

Not trying to hide the way this particular male made her feel she replied, “You didn’t have to, we are here and I expect you to bow before your High Lady.”

It didn’t go unnoticed by her that everybody else bowed almost immediately after her arrival.

“Since your master-“

He didn’t get another word in before flames were engulfing him, then ice was freezing his fingers and toes. His screams of agony were music to Feyre’s ears.

“Bow before your High Lady, or after she is done with you, I’ll have my own fun” Amren seethed.

It didn’t seem like an issue, Keir was already on the ground, still screaming.

“Oh Feyre, what did I tell you about having all the fun without me?” Rhys’ voice boomed. A murderous smirk danced on his features.

Darkness swirled all around him, just a fraction of the raw power he holds. This darkness was a comforting blanket to her, a death wish to everybody else. Cassian and Azriel, with their 7 Siphons blaring, had their own murderous air.

They held the look of the two most powerful Illyrians in history, nothing in their appearance gave away who they truly were.

“This one here was being disrespectful, I had to put him in his place,”

“As you should,” Rhys raised his voice, “As I have said before, let what happened to poor Keir today serve as reminder of what haplens when you cross your High Lady.”

Beautiful work darling, Rhys spoke into her mind.

It was his words that prompted Feyre to look down upon Keir, he was still breathing, her fae hearing assured her, but other than that, he looked dead. His flesh was burned so badly she can see parts of his bone. His fingers were so frostbitten she knew they were either going to need reattached or he would lose use of his hands.

The last time Keir insulted her, Rhys broke all of his fingers, again. He just never learns.

“I have some Court business in this part of my territory and I thought I might check in. Glad I did as it seems someone developed a need to be tortured. Happy my mate could help you with that Keir.” Rhys snarled. “Anybody else need to be reminded of the rules?” Everybody kept their heads down, still kneeling before them.

“Take Keir to his room, he may see a healer after 2 hours. Let him think long and hard about where his loyalties lie through the pain.” Feyre waved a hand and two guards half dragged Keir out of the room.

“ Your High Lady is merciful, I wouldn’t have let him see a healer.”

Rhys lead Feyre to the dais and to her throne, sat down at his own, then finally said, “Rise. Clear out of this room. Do not linger or you will face consequences of my choosing.”

Everybody hurried out of the room, careful to make sure their High Lord knew they did not want to face his punishment.

———————————————————————————————————

They winnowed out of there almost as soon as everyone left. Winnowed straight into Rhys’ third home, into the all too familiar foyer. The one that he took Feyre to when he and Mor saved her from Tamlin. God she wished she didn’t have to talk to him today, wished she could forget the Spring Court even existed.

As heartless as that sounds, the two people she cared about are out of there. Tamlin could rule his court however he pleases, especially now that Lucien had cut ties with him and Alis and her nephews left long ago. She hadn’t talked to Alis in awhile.

The last time they had talked, Alis and her nephews were still recovering from the attack on Adriata, even months later. From the sounds of it, they had barely made it out alive, their place they were staying in was washed away leaving nothing but a bit of rubble. She hoped they were better now. Hoped that they were safe and cared for and warm. All the things Feyre had lacked those years in her tiny little cottage.

Lucien, Feyre kept in close contact with. Actually she needed to check up on him. A few weeks ago, Lucien was still living with Jurian and Vassa, now free from her curse those three spent every waking moment together. She wondered how often Lucien thought of Elain, if he could feel her joy through the bond, if he wondered what or more accurately who was making her feel that way.

Feyre did seem to notice Az and Elain had been spending more time together than usual. She knew Rhys definitely did not think it was a good idea, since Elain still had yet to reject the bond formally, but everybody, even Lucien could tell that she had already made up her mind. Rhys still had his doubts but the heart wants what the heart wants, she knew that better than anyone. Feyre had had many words with him and finally got him at least idle, if only for a moment and only for Feyres’ sake.

“ Feyre,” Cassians’ voice pulled her out of her daydreaming. She hadn’t even realized but she had wandered into her old bedroom, admiring a piece of artwork. She wondered where the others were.

“Yes? Whats wrong?” He only used that tone when bad news was to be delivered.

“He’s here,” Another voice, Rhys’ said. “And he brought Lucien with him.”

——————————————————————————————————

this is the first of many chapters. hope you enjoyed it! I can’t promise a regular posting schedule, mines so busy i honestly dont know how i found the time to write this. if you have any suggestions or want to add something, please let me know! i didnt have time for edits so hopefully the spelling and grammers not too bad.

#acotar fic #acotar #feysand #tamlin #rhysand #court of nightmares #court of dreams #a court of thorns and roses #acodal

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panthera-tigris-venenata · 2 years

Text

Descendants soulmate dreams!!

Because come on, if Ben and Mal can have those, so can other people. Namely, Harry and Uma (because I love them) and Evie and Doug (because, come on, the angst).

So, yeah, let me just:

Huma

They're in denial the longest time. It's totally normal to have dreams about one's best friends, after all, isn't it? Absolutely normal. So what that no one else seems to have a face that sticks to memory and that their surroundings seem a bit screwed up from time to time? Dreams are weird, man.

Of course, everyone else but them knows something is going on.

(There is a betting pool about them. Well, several betting pools. Figures.)

Still, neither of the two thinks it weird when they flawlessly execute plans that have never been said out loud, in daylight or moonlight.

It's only natural, after all, to get that good at reading eachother as they are after all these years spent working and causing mischief together.

Of course, their crew gets slightly confused when they want them to pull some elaborate scheme that they came up with and never really shared. Not that anyone really dares to say that.

At one point, though, they figure out that they can't die in dreams: they only wake up. (Harry's fault, discovering this.) They spend next few weeks of dreaming engaging in mortal combat.

Naturally.

And just. The comfort they can offer eachother when they have the guarantee no one is looking?

The fact that they can let go, relax, not be on guard every single moment? That they can hug eachother and no one will atrack them?

...Give me Huma soulmate dreams, please.

Devie

That's the ship name, right? I'm not that big of a fan, but hey, angst.

Evie is Evil Queen's daughter: She is to mary a prince.

Yet in her dreams... In her dreams she meets a boy with kind eyes and no crown in sight. She doesn't dare to speak to him, at first.

„Did you have your soulmate dream?“ the Evil Queen asks, her voice cold and cutting as a mirror's shard.

„No, mother,“ Evie lies, „I did not.“

„What a shame,“ her mother sneers, „A disgrace. You should be dreaming of your prince by now, planning to mary him!“

(The post script of "and then taking over his palace and kingdom" is both left unsaid and mutually understood.)

The next time her mom asks her the question? She lies again.

She thinks of all the romantic tales in her mother's library she was allowed to read and describes a prince as beautiful and rich as can be.

She still doesn't talk to the boy in her dreams.

And when Doug is asked the same question?

He lies too.

Because how could that beautiful princess with blue hair and sad eyes ever be real?

He doesn't try to speak with the silent girl either, or maybe he does, and she doesn't answer. His dreams trouble him in waking, too, because her the place she is in? It looks like it crawled straight out of nighmares.

So when Doug is asked about his soulmate dreams, he lies, too.

„I don't believe in soulmates,“ he says.

#disney descendants #harry hook #uma descendants #evie grimhilde #doug descendants #soulmate AU #we deserved that #idk if I did decent job of explaining the Huma one but either way enjoy #or suffer #that's optional

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totally-not-your-babe · 2 months

Text

Master of Puppets

Chapter 2: Nightmares

Warnings: Blood, cursing, nighmares

Word count: 2468

MATERLIST

"I don't think I quite understand" the former prison guard rubbed his temples. "Are you telling me that because one of these creatures, saw me a year ago, which has been dead for just as long, now all the others are out to get me?"

"At least the ones that aren't busy trying to get us" Murray said, and the Russian couldn't decide whether he was just saying that to him in a casual way or trying to encourage him in some whimsical way.

"Блядь! (Fuck!)" he cursed under his breath.

"And you know what I don't understand?" Hopper asked, looking first at Dmitri and then at the girl standing close beside him. "How is it that you've someone moved in for almost four months and it didn't even occur to you to tell me about it?"

"He promised me," she answered for him. She had been trying to avoid the gaze of the visitors, but now she fixed hers on the man sitting in front of her and stubbornly refused to look away. "He promised not to tell anyone. Just for a little while."

"What were you doing out here alone?" Jim leaned back, his tone as if he were questioning her in an interrogation.

"Running" she answered, and for the first time she took her eyes off him.

"You were running?" Jim asked doubtfully and finally managed to place the girl's accent, it was British. "Or you were running away from something?" she returned her gaze to him, eyes wide, then looked at Dmitri.

"And" the Russian cleared his throat to draw the attention away from her, but he was not entirely successful, for El continued to stare at her, as if by watching her constantly she might discover all her secrets "if you are right and those freaks are really after me, how long will it take them to get here?"

"They found Murray pretty quickly, even though he was on vacation in Canada" Joyce said, and then gave a friendly smile to the girl, who continued to eye them suspiciously. "What's your name, sweetheart?" she asked in a motherly voice, which made her throat tighten for some reason. She did not answer immediately, she seemed to be struggling with herself whether to answer or not, and only spoke when the Russian man squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"Alina" he said, and returned her smile, sheepishly.

"It's a beautiful name," Joyce said, and the girl smiled genuinely for the first time, which for some reason brought a smile to El's face.

"You gave it to her" Hopper said, looking at Dmitri. It wasn't a question; he knew for sure.

"Yes, I did."

"Amnesia maybe?" Murray asked, looking at Alina.

"I don't remember much" she said as she stared out the window. "I woke up in a ditch among leaves and twigs" she hardly blinked, almost as if she were in some kind of trance.

"She had a rather bad cut on her head, she could have fallen and hit it" Dmitri interjected, watching her carefully.

"At that moment, I didn't remember anything, I just knew that I had to run, that I couldn’t stop. I knew that before I fell or was pushed, I had run before, because my legs hurt like hell, but I didn't want to stop. I couldn't stop" she finished; her throat tight. Before anyone could say anything, much to everyone's surprise, El stepped up to her, brushing her hand over Alina's arm to jolt her out of the memories.

"You don't have to say any more if you don't want to" she whispered, looking into her tearful eyes.

"I couldn't even if I wanted to" she whispered, and after a few seconds, clearing her throat as if nothing had happened, she pulled away and stepped away from the girl in front of her. "These creatures you speak of" she turned towards them as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. The others, if they hadn't been watching the girl every second, who had just told them with tightened throat that she had probably had to flee for her life, would have been sure that she had been replaced and her spitting image had been brought in. But Dmitri knew Alina better, he easily noticed the barely perceptible tremor of her hands, the way she kept moving her legs up and down and the slight tremor in her voice at a few syllables. "How fast are they? When are they moving? Only at night or during the day too? How many?" she asked the questions one after the other, now Alina was the one sounding like she was conducting an interrogation.

"We're not sure, but it's likely that they only move at night, or at least that's when they travel long distances" Murray replied, and he could almost see her storing the information in a corner of her brain for later use. "How fast they are, unfortunately, we haven't really been able to measure it yet, but they are fast.

"If they want to catch you, they will" Hopper looked at her, hardly blinking, though if he'd known Alina would have liked nothing more than to take Dmitri by the arm, get in the car and drive him as far as she could.

"One thing's for sure" Murray continued "it won't be knocking on your door alone, if they're coming, they'll come in a pack.

Alina shakily exhaled the air she had been holding in, then walked to the kitchen counter, and leaned on it, all the while Dmitri watched her with a worried look. The adults continued to talk, with El occasionally adding something, while Alina watched the sunset through the window, hardly visibly shivering. She didn't know how much time had passed, how long she had been standing there, she didn't know what the others were planning behind her back, her mind shut out all sound, she just looked ahead, first trying to process the new information, then trying to push away the flashes of memories. She was disturbed by the buzzing of her ears, and then by the slow goose bumps that slowly crept up her body and a cold, almost chilling sensation that crawled down her spine. Her eyes - she hadn't even noticed that she had closed them - opened wide, her whole body tensed.

"Dad!" she said louder than she wanted to, as everyone's eyes fell on her.

"Dad?" Hopper looked at Dmitri, but he ignored him, keeping his eyes on Alina, whose posture was almost abnormally tense.

"We have to go!" she said more quietly now, almost whispering.

"Alina, what's wrong?" Dmitri stood up and started to walk to her, but he couldn't move his legs, as if some invisible force had tied him to the floor. He knew what was happening.

"They're here" she turned towards them, and before either of them could speak the door cracked violently as something threw itself at it with all its force.

3 months earlier

“We are not getting anywhere.” sighted the man.

“I told you that half an hour ago” retorted Alina who was ready to throw away the notebook laying on the desk in front of her. “это глупо! (That’s stupid!)” she murmured under her breath.

“Hey! Watch it!”

“But it is!”

Dmitri buried his face in his palms and sighed again. Alina had been with him for a month, now she was talking properly and was not afraid to voice her opinion. For the first few days, she had fully taken on Dmitri’s Russian accent, then as the weeks went by, she adopted an accent he had heard when her wife back in the days watched British TV series. She was still not keen on the idea of Dmitri contacting Hopper, so the Russian man had to sneak into town to get some clothes for Alina, although she didn't really have an objection to wearing his clothes. Though in truth, after the rags Dmitri found her in, his oversized clothes were considered a luxury. With every passing day she looked healthier, her skin wasn’t sickly pale anymore, she gained a little weight and the injuries, black and blue bruises started to fade away.

They got along quite easily once the girl realised, she could trust the man. Dmitri began to fix up the attic room for her, where she spent hours in the evenings watching the stars through the skylight. She spent the nights in the guest room next to Dmitri's until hers was ready. Though there were other reasons why he kept her close at night. The nightmares. She had them every single night except for the first one, when she fell asleep on the couch and slept so heavily until the next afternoon that she barely moved. But since then, every night he woke up to her screaming and crying in her sleep. She was writhing on the bead, sweating, with tears streaming down her face. There were times when she unintentionally hit Dmitri while he was trying to wake her up, usually it took him more than an hour to calm her and most times he stayed by her side until morning, her head laying on his chest, still shaking like a leaf as he was stroking her back until he too has fallen asleep. Alina never told him what she was dreaming about, and he didn't push her. She liked to pretend that nothing had happened, the few times she had accidentally hit Dmitri and left a mark she had hardly dared to speak to him, and when she did, she apologised to him first with a remorseful face and a shaky voice.

“Why do I even have to do this?” she asked, leaning back on her chair, folding her arms on her chest.

“Sometimes you have to do things you don’t like.” Dmitri responded, taking his pen ready to explain everything to her again.

“But why this?” she looked at the numbers in the notebook and she looked like she was ready to burn the whole damn thing. Math wasn’t her favourite for sure. Alina liked reading, she enjoyed when Dmitri talked about history to her, he bought her paint and pencils so she could make paintings and drawings, but she was having a war with numbers.

“So, you can live a normal life one day.”

“What if I’ll never be normal?” Alina asked on a small voice which made the man put down the pen. “I don’t even know who I am, where I came from.”

“Alina” he reached for one of her hands and she looked up at him with teary eyes. “Everything going to come back with time.”

“What if I don’t want it to come back?” she asked on a shaky voice.

“Why wouldn’t you…?” Dmitri started but the girl wouldn’t let him finish.

“I’m tired, I’m going to sleep.” Dmitri didn't have time to say anything, she stood up and walked to her room closing the door.

Dmitri sat in the kitchen for a few more minutes, then quickly ate his dinner, took a shower, and went to bed. He couldn't get Alina's face out of his head as she said she didn't want to remember. He knew that whatever she had gone through before he found her, before she lost her memories, must have been horrible and her nightmares gave him the same indication. He started to think she started to remember but chose not to talk about it. What you don't talk about doesn't exist. He kept telling himself that in the prison when he saw or had to do something that was hard for him to stomach. Maybe Alina thought the same, she though if she didn’t talk about her past than it couldn’t hurt her.

He fell asleep thinking about her. He must have been asleep for a couple of hours when he woke up to Alina's screams. He immediately kicked off the blanket and ran into the next room, where Alina was drenched in sweat, squirming on the bed. He walked over to the bed and carefully grabbed Alina's arm to gently shake her, but once he touched her, everything happened quickly. He barely touched her, and the next moment a sharp pain ripped through his spine as his back hit the wall. Dmitri shook his head to get rid of the dizziness as soon as possible and to see clearly again. When he was able to focus on what was around him again, his eyes were wide open, and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. The objects in the room shook violently, as if the house had just been shaken by an earthquake, the glass on Alina's bedside table began to crack and then shattered into hundreds and hundreds of splinters, or rather exploded. Alina continued to writhe in bed, screaming, crying, struggling against her imaginary tormentors.

Dmitri could not move away from the wall, as if he had been pinned to it, and slowly he felt all the air being squeezed out of him. He tried to take as deep breaths as he could, but with each passing moment it became more and more difficult.

“Alina!” he tried to yell to wake her up. He knew it was crazy and he couldn't imagine how it could be possible, but he was almost certain that all the unimaginable things that were happening at that moment were Alina's doing. With each passing minute, less and less air was getting into his lungs, and he knew if all this didn’t end, he would soon lose consciousness. “Alina!” he shouted as loud as he could, his vision was getting blurred and could hardly keep his eyes open.

A moment later he could barely hold himself up in time as he landed on his knees on the floor. He immediately gasped for air and then tried to regulate his breathing as quickly as he could. When he was no longer panting for breath, he leaned back so he could sit on his heels so he could look up. The bed was out of place, the blankets were on the floor with pillows in different parts of the room, the floor was covered with broken glass, the windows were cracked and there were also cracks creeping along the walls. As Dmitri looked across the ruined room he caught a glimpse of Alina, curled up in one corner with her knees drawn up to her chest. She was gasping for breath as he had been a few moments before, her hair clinging to her forehead with sweat, but that wasn't what made Dmitri's throat tighten.

The girl's nose was bleeding, and instead of tears, blood was streaming down her young face from her wide, frightened eyes.

“I didn’t… I couldn’t stop.”

A/N: I know it kinda feels like I just cut it, but I swear I have my reasons. Also I hope it's not too confusing jumping between "the Present" and flashbacks, only the next couple of chapters (maybe the next two if I'm correct) will be like this.

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