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letmehavemyfictionalmen · 11 months

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Love, Lunacy, Time: Ch 1

summary: When you fall asleep in the Avengers Compound, you don’t expect your world to be turned upside down when they wake up in the 1950s, alongside a man who oozes Chaos.

pairing: Moonknight x afab!ScarletWitch!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Strangers to Married, Flirting, Scarlet Witch!reader, Chaos Magic, Not an accurate representation of D.I.D.

The morning sun seeps through sheer lace curtains, casting a warm golden glow upon the bedroom. Soft shadows dance along the walls, creating an atmosphere of tranquility.

The stillness of the morning hangs in the air, as if time itself pauses in quiet anticipation. Distant birdsong gently serenades the room, adding a touch of melody to the serene ambiance.

Like mischievous dancers, the sunbeams tiptoe across your features, tenderly awakening your senses. Gradually, the warmth spreads, seeping into your skin and tickling your brain with a delicate embrace of consciousness.

Slowly, you become aware of the softness of the sheets beneath you, cradling your body in gentle comfort. The rhythmic rise and fall of your chest accompanies the whispering stillness that surrounds you.

Reluctantly, you muster the strength to detach yourself from the embrace of sleep, the allure of remaining nestled in the comforting cocoon of your dreams tugging at you.

The desire to stay a little while longer in the softness of the bed is a tempting whisper in your mind.

As you rub your eyes, still in the process of awakening, you gather your thoughts and gradually sit up in bed. The realization dawns upon you that today is going to be a long day.

Last night, Steve called for a team training in the morning, a prospect that doesn't quite excite you, especially if you haven't had your daily dose of caffeine, much like Tony.

And hey, there's always one thing to look forward to after a grueling training session: Tony’s extravagant breakfast spread. The man knows how to satisfy the Avengers' appetites like no other.

From the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee to the mouthwatering display of culinary delights, the breakfast table becomes a haven of indulgence.

Waking with a contented sigh, your anticipation for breakfast lingers in the air. Stretching your arms high above your head, you allow the languid motion to wash away any remnants of sleep.

However, as your eyelids flutter open, any thoughts of a delicious breakfast and team training fade into the recesses of your mind.

The moment your eyes adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings, a sense of unease settles within you, overshadowing any lingering expectations.

The room that greets your gaze is far from what you had anticipated. Instead of the cozy familiarity of the Avengers compound, you feel like you have stepped into one of those vintage homey magazines in Steve’s room.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you take a moment to absorb the details of the room, while your eyes sweep across it.

The walls are painted in a soft, pastel hue, lending an air of serenity to the space. A dainty floral pattern adorns the curtains, their fabric billowing gently in the breeze.

The bed itself is adorned with a neatly arranged floral bedspread, its delicate patterns mirroring those of the curtains. As you run your fingers along the fabric, you can almost feel the intricate stitching beneath your touch.

A wooden dresser stands against one wall, adorned with a small mirror framed by delicate carvings. Its surface showcases a few cherished possessions —a photograph, you can’t see as you are still a bit disoriented, a porcelain trinket box, and a stack of handwritten letters.

Positioned snugly beside the dresser is a diminutive vintage television, the screen, encased in a wooden frame, rests upon sturdy legs.

Your gaze shifts from the television towards the left side of the room, where your attention is drawn to a closed door that leads outside the room.

A small vanity table, adorned with an array of beauty products, catches your attention. Lipsticks, powder compacts, and hair accessories are neatly arranged, as if awaiting the touch of a graceful hand.

A tall wooden closet stands proudly beside the vanity. Its polished surface reflects the gentle light that filters into the room, creating a subtle sheen.

As you sit there, a mix of emotions washes over you. There is a sense of curiosity tinged with confusion, as you grapple with the unknown. How did you end up in this room?

Your mind races, searching for answers and piecing together fragments of memories. Was this the doing of a new supervillian? Was it Thanos again?

After the exhausting battle between the Avengers and Thanos, where you almost lost your father-figure, Tony Stark and your mother-like, Natasha, you don’t think you can handle one again.

Especially after being snapped away for five years by that purple space grape. Not the best experience.

Questions swirl in your mind, each one vying for attention, but none providing a satisfactory answer. You try to recall the events leading up to this moment, but your memory remains frustratingly elusive.

Suddenly, your thoughts are interrupted by a faint rustling sound emanating from the left side of bed beside you. The noise draws your attention like a whisper in the wind, breaking the silence that envelops the room.

The stranger lying beside you emanates an air of tranquil serenity, his slumber undisturbed by the world around him. Rays of sunlight and your shadow gently caress his features, accentuating the delicate contours of his face.

His eyes, closed in peaceful repose, are framed by long lashes that brush against his cheeks. His brows, gracefully arched with an exquisite curvature. His nose, elegantly sculpted and gracefully arched.

His sun-kissed forehead is adorned with tousled curls of dark hair, ruffled by the embrace of slumber.

His lips, slightly parted in peaceful slumber, bear the subtle presence of a small, well-groomed mustache and his strong jawline is sculpted and chiseled.

You continue to gaze at him, almost compelled to keep looking at him. While observing him, a wave of curiosity washes over you. Who is he? How did you end up here together?

While you are pondering this, unconsciously, your hand extends, gliding gently through the air until your fingertips graze his cheek with utmost tenderness.

The touch is electric, sending a subtle current of warmth and connection coursing through your veins. His skin beneath your touch feels velvety and inviting, radiating a soothing heat that envelopes your fingertips.

A soft smile dances upon your lips, a reflection of the quiet awe that fills your being as you witness the tranquility that emanates from him.

With a delicate motion, your hand continues its exploration, guided by a mix of curiosity and reverence. Your fingers traverse the expanse of his cheek, tracing a path of featherlight caresses, to his forehead.

Gently, you brush away the curl that had playfully encroached upon his peaceful slumber, threatening to disturb his serene rest.

Just as your fingertips brush away the curl, a captivating glimmer of light captures your attention. Sunlight caresses your left hand, casting a radiant glow upon something that on your finger.

And there, adorning your ring finger, you notice two rings—a wedding band and an engagement ring.

Your heart skips a beat as realization settles within you, stirring a mix of emotions that cascade like a gentle waterfall. Married?

The word hangs in the air, heavy with implications and uncertainties. You can't deny the surge of anxiety that accompanies the newfound knowledge.

Without a second thought, a surge of urgency propels you to pull the blanket away from his body, your heart pounding with a mixture of confusion and apprehension.

As you reach for his left hand, a shiver of uncertainty runs down your spine, the weight of the unknown bearing down on your shoulders.

And then, as your eyes linger on his hand, the weight of the realization settles upon you like a heavy cloak. His wedding band.

The symbol of a commitment you cannot recall making, with a man whose name remains unknown.

A wave of unease washes over you, clouding the air with uncertainty. Questions flood your mind, each one more pressing than the last. Where are you? How did this happen? Why can't you remember? And most importantly, who is this man lying beside you?

You carefully withdraw your hand, your fingertips tingling with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. The silence in the room stretches, heavy with unspoken words and unexplained circumstances.

How did you end up in this unfamiliar room, married to a stranger? The circumstances defy logic, and a knot of unease tightens in your stomach.

A scream shatters the tranquility of the room, jolting you out of your contemplative state. Startled, your gaze darts to the source of the commotion—your left side—just in time to witness a sight that defies all expectations.

In an instant, the man lying beside you springs to life with an almost comical urgency. His body lunges forward, propelled by an inexplicable force, as if he's been startled by an invisible adversary.

With an uncoordinated tumble, he careens off the end of the bed, crashing unceremoniously onto the floor.

The abruptness of his awakening sends shockwaves through the room, breaking the fragile peace that had settled. As you watch his disoriented scramble, you can't help but feel a mixture of concern and confusion.

Swiftly casting aside the duvet, you scramble to onto your feet, with a sense of urgency, which proves to be a bit hard with this light blue, long feathered robe you find yourself wearing.

Caught between a state of curiosity and worry, you rush to the man's side, kneeling down beside him on the soft carpeted floor.

His eyes dart around the room, his breathing rapid and shallow as he tries to make sense of his surroundings.

"Hey, are you okay?" you ask, your voice filled with genuine concern. He looks up at you, his gaze filled with a mix of confusion and disbelief.

"What... where... who are you?" he stammers, his voice tinged with both fear and curiosity. His eyes scan your face, searching for any hint of recognition or familiarity.

"I... I don't know," you admit, your own voice wavering slightly. "I woke up here, just like you. I just remember falling asleep in my bedroom and then I was just here."

His eyebrows knit together, a furrow of concern etching across his forehead. "This is... this is insane. I told Marc not to eat that steak," he mutters, his words a mere whisper in the air.

The man's words hang in the air, leaving a sense of intrigue mingled with confusion. Who is Marc, and why would eating a steak have any connection to your current predicament?

The room is enveloped in an uncomfortable silence as you and the man exchange bewildered glances, both grappling with the bizarre circumstances that have brought you together.

Steven's gaze darts around the room, his eyes searching for anything familiar amidst the unfamiliar setting. As he takes in the vintage decor and the delicate details that adorn the space, his reflection catches his attention in the multitude of mirrors that grace the room.

His gaze lands upon Marc who is equally bewildered and struggling to comprehend the circumstances that surround them. Confusion lingers in his expression mirroring the perplexity etched across Steven's own face.

However, Jake stands in silence, his eyes fixed upon a black and white photograph hanging on the wall. Steven, curious about Jake's intense focus, traces his eyes to see what he is looking at from the mirror.

Walking closer to the photograph, Steven feels his breath catching in his throat as he observes the photograph in front of him. His heart skips a beat, and a shiver runs down his spine.

The realization dawns upon him, and his mind races to grasp the subject and concept captured within the frame.

In the photograph, you stand resplendent, adorned in a beautiful wedding dress that cascades elegantly around you. A bouquet of delicate flowers rests gently in your hands, completing the picture of radiant joy.

And beside you, Steven finds himself in that moment frozen in time, as your groom. Your arms are intertwined, a symbol of unity and shared commitment.

As Steven's gaze fixates on the photograph, his eyes trace the exquisite details, taking in every nuance and emotion captured within the frame. The significance of the date imprinted at the bottom of the photograph—July 12, 1952.

You stand beside Steven, peering over his shoulder as you both gaze at the photograph in front of you. A mixture of emotions swirls within you—confusion, and disbelief.

"Yeah, I forgot to mention it," you say softly, your voice tinged with a hint of disbelief. "It seems we're married. I noticed the rings on our fingers, and it's hard to ignore what that implies."

“MARRIED?!” Marc yells from the mirror, causing Steven and you to jump. “You know my last marriage ended. And now I am married again with a woman who I’ve never even met?!”

"Who was that?!" you question, your voice laced with panic. Instinctively, you turn around, your eyes scanning the room for the source of the voice. And then, to your surprise and growing unease, your gaze lands on Marc’s reflection in the mirror.

With practiced finesse, your delicate hands, peeking out from the feathery sleeves of your robe, deftly weave intricate gestures, conjuring a ball of magic within your grasp.

"¡Puedes vernos y escucharnos?!" Jake's voice echoes from another mirror, his words laced with a hint of disbelief and awe. [Can you see us and hear us?!]

"Sí, puedo, pero qué diablos está pasando?!" you reply, your voice filled with a mix of astonishment and confusion. [Yes, I can, but what the hell is going on?!]

You send a quick thanks to Nat for forcing you to learn various languages.

Marc, his gaze fixed on the swirling red encircling your hand, breaks the silence and draws your attention toward him. "Look," he begins, his voice earnest, "I can explain, as can Steven back there. But please, allow us the opportunity to explain."

His words hang in the air, a plea for understanding and patience. The weight of the unknown still lingers, but there is a glimmer of hope that explanations might shed light on the bewildering situation you find yourselves in.

"You've got one minute," you assert, channeling your inner Natasha with a determined tone. This mirror situation demands clarity, and you are determined to get some answers within the limited timeframe you've set.

Steven takes a deep breath, his voice filled with a mixture of vulnerability and sincerity. "I... I have Dissociative Identity Disorder or D.I.D.," he confesses, his gaze locked with yours. "It's a mental health condition where different identities, or alters, coexist within one body."

He pauses for a moment, collecting his thoughts before continuing. "Marc, Jake, and I... we share one body. Marc is the original host in the system. Each of us has our own distinct personalities, memories, and experiences. We don't always have control over who's in the driver's seat, so to speak."

You listen intently, absorbing this unexpected revelation. The complexity of the situation begins to unravel, and you try to grasp the implications of what Steven has just shared.

"Okay," you say, your voice softening as you take in the weight of their revelation. "I... I appreciate your honesty, Steven. This explains some of the confusion and the presence of multiple voices. But the mirror reflections?"

Steven nods, understanding the confusion his previous explanation may have caused. "The mirror reflections are a manifestation of our internal world," he explains. "For us, mirrors serve as a gateway to communication and connection between the three of us."

He gestures toward the mirror where Marc's and Jake's reflections had been nodding earlier. "When one of us takes control or wants to communicate, the other's reflection appears in the mirror. It's a way for us to interact and share our thoughts, even if we can't always be in control of the physical body."

You glance at the mirror, now understanding the significance it holds for them. The mysterious occurrences and the presence of their reflections suddenly make more sense. Having gained a deep understanding of Steven, Marc, and Jake's situation, you inhale deeply, allowing your powers to recede. The vibrant red ball of magic that had encircled your hand gradually dissipates, leaving you in your usual state.

"I... I think I understand," you say, a mix of curiosity and empathy coloring your words. "Thank you for sharing this with me. It's a brave and vulnerable thing to do."

Steven's eyes reflect a mixture of relief and gratitude as he meets your gaze. The weight of their secret seems to lighten, and a sense of trust begins to blossom between all of you. "Can you explain the magic?" Marc asks, his voice tinged with curiosity and a touch of skepticism. His curl falls onto his forehead, adding to his already perplexed expression. "I don't think people can usually hear us or see us." You shift your eyes toward Marc, acknowledging the genuine curiosity reflected in his eyes. Given the extraordinary nature of the magic you just demonstrated, it's only natural for skepticism to arise.

"It's something that has been a part of me since I was very young," you explain, your voice tinged with a touch of nostalgia. "My earliest memories involve me being able to use magic."

There's a hint of wistfulness in your tone as you convey the enigmatic nature of your powers. The memories associated with them feel distant, like fragments of a puzzle waiting to be assembled.

"I wish I could provide a definitive explanation," you continue, your voice tinged with sincerity. "But the truth is, even I don't fully understand the origin or extent of my powers. They've always been a part of me, and I've learned to control and harness them over the years."

"I can tell you that my powers are connected to my emotions," you add, offering a glimpse into the nature of your magic. "When I feel strongly about something, whether it's joy, fear, anger, or love, my powers tend to manifest in different ways. The magic you just witnessed was an example of that."

Steven's expression softens as he listens to your explanation, his skepticism gradually giving way to curiosity and understanding. "That's... incredible," he admits, his voice laced with a mix of awe and acceptance.

You chuckle and nod your head, feeling a warmth in your heart. "Thanks. Now, can I get an introduction to my husbands?" you ask playfully, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I am Steven Grant," he introduces himself with a warm smile. "I work at the gift shop in the British Museum." His voice carries a hint of enthusiasm as he speaks.

From the mirror reflection, you see Marc wave at you, his voice filled with a mix of confidence and a touch of weariness. "I'm Marc Spector. Former U.S. Marine, and a mercenary who's seen more than my fair share of action," he introduces himself, his eyes reflecting the weight of his past. A mischievous grin appears on Jake's face as he leans closer, in the mirror's reflection, his voice oozing with charm. "Me llamo Jake Lockley, hermosa," he says, his Spanish accent rolling off his tongue. [The name's Jake Lockley, beautiful.] You give them your own name, a warm smile gracing your lips as you extend your hand to Steven for a friendly handshake. "It's truly a pleasure to meet all of you, although, I wish it was under different circumstances."

Shaking hands, you are abruptly brought back to the present moment, reality sinking in as you take note of your vintage attire and the man's matching vintage nightwear. The nostalgic garments serve as a reminder that you and this man are in a different time. With your hand still in his clasp, Steven takes a step back from you, observing your appearance with a mix of intrigue and admiration. His eyes sweep over your long light blue feathery robe, noting the delicate elegance it adds to your figure.

His eyes then wander up to your hair, which has been meticulously curled in a style reminiscent of the year they are in. The waves cascade down, framing your face and adding a touch of timeless sophistication to your overall look.

As Steven takes in your attire and coiffed hair, he can't help but be captivated by your beauty. It's not merely the physical aspects that enchant him, but the way you carry yourself, exuding an aura of confidence and allure.

There's a certain glow about you, an inner radiance that shines through, making it clear that you possess a beauty that transcends mere appearances.

In this moment, as you both stand there, still relative strangers despite the intimate connection forged by your shared powers, Steven finds himself drawn to your presence. He feels a subtle stirring of curiosity, a desire to unravel the layers that lie beneath your enchanting exterior.

Marc and Jake share a knowing look as they catch Steven's lingering gaze upon you. Smirks creep across their faces, a silent acknowledgment of his unspoken thoughts and the emotions he harbors for you.

The sweet serenade of the doorbell fills the room, abruptly pulling you both out of the enchanting moment you shared.

Startled, you and Steven exchange a glance, your gazes filled with curiosity and a touch of confusion. Who could be at the door so early in the morning?

With a shared nod, you both make your way toward the front door, eager to unravel the mystery that awaits on the other side. The possibilities swirl in your mind, each one tinged with anticipation and a hint of apprehension.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third-party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

taglist: @lalalily03, @cicithemess2000, @elliewilliamswhore

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eyebawll · 4 months

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THRU THE LOOKING GLASS

•°. *࿐ քʀօʟօɢʊɛ ➻

.·:*¨༺ 𝘼 𝙂𝙖𝙯𝙚 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙙༻¨*:·.

Thru The Looking Glass is a creepypasta x f! reader fanfic I started writing months ago but only just now published. Now, I'm here to do the same for this silly little site! Warnings and story under the cut.

WARNINGS: This story contains content that may not be suitable for any of my younger followers. This story contains heavy depictions of gore, violence, murder, death, abuse, childhood abuse, SA, derealization, mental health issues, and other topics. + my over the top writing (oops)..This is a more realistic approach while also having fun with it. I needed something new to work on while I go about with my other stories.

word count: 5,722

summary: In this OC-worthy tale of horror and pain, we follow the story of Y/N, a young woman whose life has been shattered by tragedy and abuse. Haunted by hallucinations and plagued by violent outbursts, Y/N is trapped in a cycle of torment, unable to escape the clutches of her controlling and abusive father. A retired doctor with a zealot's faith, he subjects his daughter to a range of experimental treatments in his quest to purge her of demons that he believes have sought refuge in her pure form.

As Y/N struggles to retain her grip on reality, wonderland and real life alike, she must unravel the thick web of her father's madness, and reclaim her identity before it's too late.

A large building loomed over the street, its windows black and empty. The darkness outside was all-encompassing, the kind that seeps into your bones and fills you with a deep sense of dread. The wind howled like a wounded animal, rattling the windows in their frames and sending shivers down the spines of anyone brave enough to venture out. The streetlights flickered sporadically, casting an eerie glow over the empty sidewalks. There was no sign of life, no sound except the wail of the wind. It was a ghost town, a place where nightmares come to life. And for Y/N, it was hell.

Y/N stumbled into her old cramped bedroom, her heart hammering in her chest. She locked the door behind her, feeling a fleeting sense of safety. But the feeling was fleeting indeed, as the dark room seemed to close in on her. The vintage wallpaper, once vibrant and lively, now peeled and faded, hung like a veil of sadness around the room. The creaky floorboards groaned in protest beneath her feet, as if they too shared her burden.

She let out a ragged sigh and collapsed onto her bed, her limbs feeling heavy and uncooperative. The mattress, worn and lumpy, offered no comfort, and she winced as fresh pain shot up from the bruises on her arms and legs. Her eyes, swollen and red from tears, took in her surroundings: the small desk and chair, both rickety and unsteady, pushed up against one wall; a dresser with a chipped mirror in the opposite corner; and the twin-sized bed with a faded floral bedspread, now more depressing than cheerful. The room was still and quiet, save for her ragged breaths that echoed off the walls. It felt like a prison, and she was the only inmate.

Soft eyes slowly opened to the sight of an unfamiliar space, filled with nature and elegant wildlife. The plush bed she lied in was covered with a down comforter and fluffy pillows, the area's furnishings exuding a timeless charm. A vintage dresser with an ornate mirror stood high, while a side table held a delicate antique lamp that cast a warm glow that seemed to produce a warm barrier of protection despite its irrelevancy, the sunlight covering the wooded area with a blanket of warmth. She could recognize these items as her own, however they seemed to look brighter. They looked as if she had just gotten them. As she sat up, Y/N felt a soft breeze settle against her skin, rustling the trees--almost like a nurturing embrace from mother nature.

She looked out into the forest beyond, where the trees stood tall and majestic, their leaves a riot of colors in shades of green, red, orange, and gold. The forest was kind of quiet, yet alive with the soft sounds of chirping birds and other forms of wildlife. There was an atmosphere of mystery and enchantment within this queer place. She looked around, noticing she wasn't in her bedroom, or even in a building. Her bed, the dresser and the table were placed in the middle of a plethora of trees in which surrounded her, a long, endless pathway splitting feet away. Curious, the young woman pulled the covers over her side, kicking her legs over the bed as she further took in her surroundings.

She shivered as she stood up, the lace at the bottom of her nightgown flowing with the breeze that swept over her body. She took a deep breath, the scent of damp earth and crisp leaves filling her lungs. The forest seemed to stretch out endlessly, the trees towering over her like sentinels. The ground was soft beneath her feet, the fallen leaves cushioning her every step. She wondered how she'd gotten here, and why she was in the middle of a forest. The last thing she remembered was falling asleep in her own bed, her father's voice echoing in her mind. Here she is now, surrounded by the beauty of nature. She felt a sense of calm wash over her, a feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time. In this moment, a blurry cloud filled her mind. All she knew were the sights before her.

As she looked around, she noticed something strange. Moving along the brown trail, she began to see dolls. These dolls hung by thread, some even from rope with a tight loop around their necks, creating a noose. They were a mixture of old and new, ranging from simple cloth dolls to elaborate porcelain ones. The closer she looked, the more she realized that some of the dolls had an uncanny resemblance to her. Most were in one piece, while there were also random doll parts such as heads and legs, swinging with the wind.

She continued, the dolls on the branches seeming to multiply as she walked further. Some of them were cracked and broken, their once beautiful, fresh features now twisted and corrupted. The air grew colder, and the sky turned from a calming blue to a deep, foreboding red. The trees themselves began to ooze from their trunks, a mysterious liquid easing into the forest floor. This liquid was rich and thick, possessing a deep shade of red, matching the sky. Y/N could feel her heart sink as that calming feeling dissolved, replaced with a painful twist in her stomach.

The dolls seemed to come alive, their heads turning to watch her as she passed by. Their once happy faces twisted into expressions of anger and disgust, their eyes seeming to follow her every move. The path became more treacherous, the ground uneven and full of roots and rocks. Y/N stumbled, her foot catching on a branch and sending her tumbling to the ground. As she picked herself up, she noticed a doll lying on the ground next to her. It was cracked and its eyes were closed. Its skin was pale and its hair was tangled, a familiar red liquid oozing from the creases of its broken cheeks. She rushed away from it, stumbling as she made her way deeper into the infinite amounts of trees.

Y/N felt like she had been wandering for hours, the path ahead of her only seeming to stretch further. The forest grew darker as she pressed on, the sky overhead seeming to darken its hue. The once tranquil sounds of nature had been silenced. It was quiet. Too quiet.

She stumbled upon a clearing, the ground beneath her feet soft and spongy. She looked around, noticing that the trees here were different from the rest, their bark gnarled and twisted. As she stepped forward, a voice suddenly spoke from the shadows, causing her to jump in surprise.

"Who are you? What brings you to my domain?"

The voice boomed, deep and menacing. Y/N looked around frantically, trying to locate the source of the voice. She saw a large wolf-like animal standing before her, its coat a deep red with a black mane and tail. Its glossy white eyes glinted in the dim light, and its sharp teeth were bared in a grin that sent shivers down her spine. The dog took a step forward, its powerful muscles rippling under its sleek fur. Y/N couldn't help but feel both confused and unsettled by the sight of the creature. It was like no other canine she had ever seen, and the way it spoke only added to her confusion

"I-...I appear to be lost," she stammered, her heart pounding in her chest.

The dog stepped closer, its eyes seeming to glow in the darkness as it revealed itself further from within the trees. "Lost, you say?" it hissed, its breath hot against her face. "Perhaps I can help you find your way."

Y/N took a step back, unsure of whether to trust this hound. But with no other option and a clouded mind, she nodded.

The hound turned around and began to walk, its massive form barely making a sound as it moved through the forest. Y/N hesitantly followed, her senses on high alert as the silence around them grew deafening. The once beautiful trees now looked twisted and gnarled, their branches stretching out like long fingers. The ground was littered with fallen leaves and broken twigs, and the red hue of the sky made the forest appear even darker.

As they walked, Y/N couldn't shake off the feeling that she was being watched. Every now and then, the hound would pause, as if sensing something that she could neither see nor hear. She shuddered, feeling as if the forest was closing in around her.

Her head was spinning, and the scent of blood grew stronger, overwhelming her senses. She felt her stomach churn, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. Something felt terribly wrong about this place. Just then, the hound stopped in his tracks. He turned his head, and Y/N watched as he silently dissolved away into a mist. The mist surrounded her, and she was left standing alone in the darkness. She couldn't see her own hands in front of her face, and the smell of blood was suffocating. The mist, thick and ethereal, stretched out before her, obscuring her vision like the veil of a widow.

"Hell- Hello?" She croaked in a small voice, seeking out for her new friend. Where could he have gone?

She pressed on, eventually giving up. Determined to find her way out., time seemed to blur as she walked, her senses stuffed with cotton. After what felt like forever, she began to notice the mist was starting to clear. In time, she found herself deeper in the dim-lit forest. The sun, barely visible through the dense canopy of towering trees, cast fragmented rays of light that danced upon the forest floor. The air was heavy with the earthy scent of rain, hinting at the recent downpour that had bathed the woods.

As Y/N ventured deeper, the bark of the trees became darker and more weathered. Their branches reached out like gnarled fingers, seemingly whispering secrets to one another. Shadows played tricks on her eyes, making it difficult to discern the true path ahead. Despite the sickening feeling inside, Y/N's building fight or flight sent her forward. She yearned for the warmth of sunlight on her skin, or better yet, to find herself entangled in the covers of her thick blanket in her own bed. The mist persisted, swirling around her like a cloak, but she refused to be once again consumed by it again.

A sense of relief washed over her as she found herself in the presence of this quieter, more secluded part of the forest. The soft filtered sunlight offered a flickering respite from the shadows. The air was gentle and easy on the senses, scents of rainwater and fresh grass replacing the stomach-churning scent of blood. It felt familiar, comforting. But as moments turned into minutes, a growing unease crept back into Y/N's consciousness. It started as a prickling sensation at the nape of her neck, an instinctual warning. She strained her ears, trying to decipher any peculiar sounds within the natural symphony of the forest.

Suddenly, a faint snap shattered the growing atmosphere of ease. Y/N's head snapped in the direction of the noise, gasping involuntarily. Her eyes darted through the dimly lit surroundings, searching for the source, but all she saw were dancing shadows and swaying branches. It was as if the forest itself played tricks on her, taunting her, keeping its secrets hidden from view. A shiver raced down her spine, casting a chill in the air. The forest, of which was peaceful and quiet, now seemed to become more ever twisted than before. Y/N quickened her pace, fear fueling her steps. She refused to be consumed by fear or doubt. All she wanted was to get home.

She pressed forward, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of danger. She knew she had to keep going, as the answers she sought lay somewhere within the heart of the trees. A darkness loomed in her mind, urging her to turn back, but she refused. Guided by a glimmer of hope that rested deep within her trauma-trenched soul, she ventured deeper, making sure to follow each step of the path that only seemed to stretch further and further, edging her with the chance of safely finding her way.

The world around Y/N felt as though it had ceased to exist beyond the immediate circle of shadows and rustling leaves. Every nerve ending tingled with an acute awareness of impending ruin. As she strained her senses to decipher the source of the sounds, she felt herself submerged in overwhelming dread. It was an inexplicable dread, one that didn't just linger in the air but seeped into her flesh and clawed its way into her core. Then there was a smell. The stench intensified—a putrid mixture of decay and coppery undertones—coiling around her like a serpent.

Feeling sick to her stomach, Y/N couldn't bear to move. Her mind raced with fearful thoughts. Was it a wild animal? Was it a corpse?

A twig snapped with a crisp sound, closer this time. Y/N's heart lurched into her throat, rendering speech and movement impossible. The forest seemed to hold its breath, the silence now an unbearable weight pressing on her shoulders. She strained to pinpoint the origin of the noises, but the darkness thwarted her efforts, rendering everything beyond a few feet an empty abyss. Each and every second felt like an eternity, as if time itself had chosen this moment to stretch and distort. Her breaths came in shallow gasps, the cold air burning her lungs. The once comforting rustle of leaves became a taunting chant, mocking her. Daring her to move.

Summoning every ounce of energy and courage she could possibly find, Y/N willed herself to move, to break free from the shackles fear had locked on her fragile limbs. But her limbs felt heavy, unresponsive, as if held by an unseen force. The forest seemed to converge upon her, the trees closing ranks, confining her within them. Desperation clawed at her chest as she fought against the panic threatening to consume her entirely. She had to escape, had to find a way out before whatever lurked in the never ending darkness closed in on her. But with each passing moment, the forest's malevolence seemed to intensify, never ceasing to remind her she wasn't alone.

She slowly brings her leg to push forward, taking a step. She slowly rested her foot upon the dirt trail, like a child sneaking into the kitchen to find their way to the cookie jar. With a shallow exhale, she pushes her body forward, gently resting her other foot beside her left. Although tense, she seemed to relax, convincing herself if she were quiet, she wouldn't startle whatever it was that had desired to make itself known. In the thick shroud of the oppressive darkness, just before she was about to take another step, a queer and haunting clicking noise pierced through the silence, sending shivers down Y/N's spine. It was a sound that liquidated explanation—a disconcerting blend of a whine and the creak of an old, rusted door. The unsettling cry echoed around her, the trees seeming to tremble in fear.

She kept still. Nothing. She then took a few hesitant steps forward, her pulse thundering in her ears, each beat she felt in her flesh. But as her foot grazed the forest floor, convinced she would make it out, a sudden, heart-wrenching cry shattered that hope. It was a mournful sound, tinged with an unbearable sadness that clawed at the deepest parts of her soul (not to mention her ear drums). The cry seemed to emanate from the same entity, the trees now beginning to literally shake in shared anguish of the young woman.

Y/N's steps faltered, her breath hitching in her throat. Despite her fear, she felt a surge of empathy flood through her—a strange connection to the mournful sound from what could have been an injured animal. Her heart ached, entwined with the dread that held her. As if in response, the darkness seemed to coalesce, thickening around her. The forest itself seemed to draw even closer, pressing in on her from all sides.

She strained to discern any movement. But the more she strained herself, the more the shadows seemed to morph and shift, concealing whatever lurked just beyond her line of sight. Time seemed to warp and twist, elongating the moments into an eternity of psychological torture. The air around her crackled with an otherworldly tension, growing bitter and cold. Her every muscle tensed, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. Yet, she found herself stuck by some force, held captive by an invisible barrier.

The cry echoed once more, only this time, it was closer. It was as though the injured creature sought solace in her presence.

She wanted so badly to run. A foreboding sensation crept up her spine, adding on to the building tension, causing her muscles to tense, locking themselves up so tight it was nearly painful. Her eyes widened in alarm, the adrenaline urging her to move, to flee. Yet, her strength allowed her only to do the bare minimum—a cautious, subtle glance, an attempt to discern the source of her dread without confronting it head on.

Slowly, her gaze shifted, almost sidelong, toward the space behind her. She dared not make direct eye contact, fearing whatever it was that lurked from behind. Her heart pounded furiously, echoing in her ears like a funeral drum, while her throat ran dry. The air was freezing by now. She felt as if she could get frostbite, feeling nips on her fingers and her bare toes, rendering her limbs tremulous and her breaths shallow. The clicking sound persisted, as the creature crept in from behind her.

An ache spread within her skull as she tried to catch a glimpse of what it was, only met with moving twig-like parts, what she could only assume to be arms. Her vision was obscured, offering mere glimpses of disjointed blotches. She discerned the unsettling silhouette of blotchy limbs, strange colors melded together. The creature's form appeared surreal, an amalgamation of beige tainted with splotches of crimson that resembled dried blood, twisted in abstract patterns across its strange horror-novel-esque frame.

Her breath hitched as she briefly caught sight of its torso—a bony structure, taut around its ribs, adorned with protruding spikes that seemed to glisten in the faint dim source of light. The sight sent her fear into overdrive, a primal instinct warning her of imminent danger. And then, she thought she saw its face—or what could pass for one. Black voids for eyes seemed to peer into the depths of her own, unnerving in their emptiness, devoid of any emotion or life. A hole of a mouth gaped open, revealing jagged, serrated teeth that protruded like sharp daggers.

In the shifting darkness, her gaze traced what she could only assume were its arms—twig-like appendages that moved sinuously. They were twisted and unnaturally long. The creature appeared to be tall, taller than her, and for its arms, hooked at the very edge where its hand would be, to touch the ground, she realized this was no wild animal. Y/N's mind reeled at the sight, grappling with the horrifying reality that stood before her—she was in a nightmare. She was in hell.

In her mind she screamed at herself to run before it was too late. Yet she still couldn't. Her bones felt fragile, as if the weight of her fear could shatter them into a million shards. She stood, transfixed by terror, caught between the compulsion to confront the creature and the overwhelming urge to book it. Straining her senses, specifically her sight and her hearing, caused her physical damage as she snapped her gaze back ahead, shutting her eyes tightly.

Suddenly, her ears began to ring. It numbed the back of her eyeballs while also sending a sharp pain through them. Instinctively, Y/N throws her hands up to her ears in attempts to blocking out the noise. She's unsure of whether or not that was the extra push she needed, but regardless, she found herself running. Her joints were unlocked, each movement swift and fluid. She just kept running, running through the dark, the tips of her fingernails digging into the sides of her head. She could feel herself scratching her hair follicles, digging into her skin as her faced scrunched in agony. She didn't dare open her eyes just yet, allowing her legs to carry her wherever they ended up.

In a sudden burst of light, a flash erupted from the depths of the forest. The light filtered through her eyelids, nearly blinding her as they shot open. She could feel herself stumble back, completely caught off guard. She stood there, head darting around the area. She found her footing light and her breath heavy, heart racing as she tried to process it all at once. It was as if the world around her transformed, and she found herself in a clearing bathed in filtered sunlight. The forest gave way to a serene oasis, where the gentle sounds of rustling leaves and distant birdsong filled the air. Y/N took a moment to absorb her surroundings, her senses recalibrating to this sudden peace. The trees, though still towering and ancient, now seemed to share a quiet wisdom rather than wicked darkness and sheer terror. The ground beneath her feet felt soft and mossy, inviting her into a haven of comfort and warmth.

Every ounce of unease and fear slowly but surely began to melt away as she calmly strolled through. All of this was too much—all she wanted was to go home. Perhaps it's this way?

It was fairly uneventful, her journey. She would take occasional twists and turns, following the path etched into the dirt that was awfully gentle on the skin of her bare feet. In this strange contrast to the previous forest, Y/N wandered along the winding paths, enveloped in its atmosphere of charm. The vintage allure of the surroundings added a familiar home-like touch to the scene. Oil-lit street lamps cast a warm, golden glow, illuminating the path as if guiding her through a bygone memory. The air was filled with fluttering butterflies, their vibrant wings painting the air with kaleidoscopic hues.

As she ventured deeper, she was swarmed with curious sights that felt oddly enchanting. Hanging delicately from branches were dolls, but not suspended by rope around their necks as she had seen before. Instead, they dangled by slender pastel and rich-colored ribbons tied around their wrists, and sum even by the cuffs of their blouses and shirts, their porcelain faces serene yet haunting in their stillness.

Elegant decorations adorned the foliage, ornate carvings and nostalgic old trinkets nestled amidst the tapestry. It felt like a stroll through a forgotten memory, deep within the core of her mind, where time stood still.

However, as she tip-toed further along the trail, the ambiance began to shift once more. The air dropped, becoming cooler, and the light dimmed ever so slightly as if a cloud had passed over the sun. A peculiar sensation settled over her, a feeling that she wasn't alone. It wasn't all that threatening, however. Strange noises began to merge within the symphony of the forest. Heavy footsteps echoed in the distance, accompanied by laughter that seemed to reverberate from somewhere unseen. Intrigued, while also apprehensive, Y/N couldn't resist the urge to investigate.

The noises grew closer, drawing her towards the edge of the path where it abruptly ended. Peering around the corner, she encountered an inexplicable sight—a fuzzy distortion, as if the fabric of reality blurred before her eyes. Through the haze and the surrealistic feeling she felt brewing inside of her, she captured glimpses of an odd scene—a pair of dark pants, knives glinting in a faint light. She strained her senses, having recovered from earlier, picking up what she could only discern into screams. They were faint and muffled, though, before she could hear something more. A low, infernal growl, or was it a groan? It settled into her ears, bringing a physical sense of warmth over her, however it wasn't anything positive.

Splashes of crimson caught her attention, vivid against the strange blurry backdrop. Then, from the distorted void, something popped itself forward, its head emerging through the blurry portal, locking eyes with hers. Y/N gasped, her breath catching in her throat.

Without a second thought, she turned and fled, her heart pounding in terror. She ran aimlessly, jumping over twigs and large rocks, completely disregarding the rest of the trail that seemed to go in many directions until, by sheer chance or fate, she nearly ran into a rusted brown door reminiscent of the one in her bedroom. It rested, open just a crack. Without hesitation, she yanked the doorknob back and leaped through, the metallic clang echoing behind her as she slammed it shut.

She had practically jumped into the open space, and her body went rigid, her muscles tensing on impact. But instead of the anticipated collision with a harsh surface, she found herself sinking into something soft, almost cushion-like. Confusion began to cloud her fear as her hands met the padded interior of what seemed to be a room. Her movements were sluggish, almost as if she were submerged in water, every action a struggle against unseen resistance. Crawling on hands and knees, she blinked repeatedly, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dim, eerie glow that emanated from the sparse lighting in the room.

A solitary window perched high above caught her attention, moonbeams casting soft shadows across the room. The faint glow of moonlight offered her some kind of comfort. At least she wasn't in a ditch somewhere. The light, guiding her unsteady steps towards the distant window, felt kind of warm compared to the awfully cold air that nipped at her skin. Disoriented and off-balance, she stumbled, her senses still reeling from the transition.

As she approached the window, her hands brushed against the padded walls, seeking stability. She raised her gaze, fixating on the distant glimmer of the moonlight filtering through the solitary window.

Fumbling and uncertain, she traced the contours of the walls with her hands, feeling the padded surface in an attempt to ground herself. But before she could fully process her surroundings, a sound—a shuffle, perhaps footsteps—outside the door snapped her attention away. Her breath hitched as she stared at the door, her heart thundering in her chest. The faint glimmer of light danced across the space as a slider on the door moved, revealing only a pair of eyes peering in at her. They glinted with curiosity, holding her gaze in a silent exchange.

Y/N's mind raced with questions, her mouth parting as if to speak, yet no words came. A chill crept down her spine as a surge of apprehension washed over her. Her hand involuntarily pressed against the padded wall, seeking a false sense of security as she struggled to comprehend the oddity of her situation.

Y/N watches intently as the person on the other side of the door turns the knob, the hinges creaking as it swings open. A blinding light spills into the room, causing Y/N to instinctively avert her gaze and squint against the sudden brightness. Slowly, her eyes adjust to the illumination, allowing her to steal a side glance at the figure that stood just at the doorway.

Recognition flickers across Y/N's mind as she discerns the person before her—a woman with fair skin and ginger hair elegantly tied up with swept, fluffy parted bangs. Despite the strangeness of the situation, she notes the woman's attire—a surgeon's uniform—with a mask loosely hanging under her chin. However, the most startling detail catches Y/N off guard—the absence of the woman's eyes. Instead, there's an unnerving expanse of smooth, featureless skin where her eyes should have been.

Confusion mingles with disbelief in Y/N's thoughts. She blinks repeatedly, hoping to dispel this surreal image that feels like a figment of her imagination. Her mind races with questions, her mouth opening as if to voice her bewilderment, yet still, she was silent.

Desperately seeking some form of reassurance, her hand instinctively presses against the padded wall behind her, though it offers no comfort against the unsettling reality she's confronted with. In a state of disbelief and growing unease, Y/N froze. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows high. She felt so cold, despite the warmth that spilled into the room from the other side. The woman's plump, glossy pink lips held a cigarette. She seemed confused, arms crossed as she leaned on her hip. A dent formed in which her eyebrows were meant to be, as if she was contemplating how this stranger got here.

For an eternal moment that feels suspended in time, Y/N remains frozen, unable to process the nightmarish sight before her. Yet, as she blinks, a sudden change unfolds. The woman, initially standing at the door, now leans in, her hands extending around the doorframe as her body seems to elongate. Her foot juts forward as if ready to step inside, but something is different.

The woman looms taller, her head protruding into the room, and a ghastly grin spreads across her face, her jaw extended to an inhumane rate. Y/N's horrified gaze fixates on a single, glistening eyeball resting upon the woman's tongue. The eye seems to fixate directly on Y/N, the same tint of amber from the slider on the door. Unable to contain her ever-growing (and never ending, it seems) fear, Y/N chokes up, her breath catching in her throat, a primal instinct compelling her to scream. But before the scream could tear from her throat, the woman, now twisting her body with a series of bone-cracking sounds, begins to crawl into the padded room. Her movements contort unnaturally as if defying the laws of physics, each bone-crunching twist amplifying the discomfort building in the atmosphere.

The cigarette that dangled from the woman's lips moments ago falls, landing on the padded floor. Strangely, it doesn't extinguish upon impact but continues to burn, creating a sizzling sound against the padded surface. The acrid scent of burning material adds to the sensory overload of the scene before the innocent woman, feeling herself begin to slip from the fingers of reality. If, that's what you could call this.

As the woman morphs further, her form distorts into something incomprehensible. The room seems to warp around her, shadows elongating and contorting with her every movement. The mask that rested underneath her chin disintegrated, along with her fair skin that seemed to burn away in Swiss-cheese like patterns until patches of the meat and muscle became apparent, her skin just barely hanging on. Her hair seemed to thin and fall out, while the cap dissolved, the faint sound of cracking bones intermingles with a low, guttural growl emanating from the creature, now towering over Y/N, its jaw hanging for its eye to continue to stare down upon her.

It drew nearer, emitting a stomach-churning odor of decaying flesh and bone and blood that overwhelmed her senses. Tears welled in her eyes, her brows and lip quivering as she recoiled, attempting to move as far back as possible while the creature advanced. In the depths of its mouth, its eye swiveled around, a soft clicking resonating through its towering form. Y/N's fingers dug into the wall behind her, desperately seeking something to hold onto.

"N—No. . ." A feeble protest escaped her parched throat, the words torn from her with the anguish of a thousand blades slicing through her vocal cords.

"NO!" A shriek tore from her throat, a mix of revulsion and fury contorting her face as she glared up at the creature.

Sliding down the wall in a final attempt to escape, she scrambled to the corner of the room. Only upon huddling up into the corner and snapping her gaze toward where the creature would have been did she realize that it was gone. The overpowering stench that had made her wanna hurl had dissipated, leaving a heavy silence in the air.

Reluctantly, Y/N lowered her gaze, turning her attention to the woman by the door. Standing with arms at her sides, instead of moving forward, she was stepping back. Her wide amber eyes shook with fear, her cigarette burnt to the butt, a small mound of ashes on the cold floor beneath. Her skin remained intact, her entire form unaltered. If anything, she seemed just as terrified as Y/N. Before Y/N could comprehend what just had happened, the woman forcefully shut the door, the lock clicking into place. Breathing heavily, Y/N was left in her confusion. She squeezed her eyes shut, the sounds of heavy footsteps and soft creaking floorboards settling into her ears, the light fading away, dominated by the darkness.

For a while, the world remained distant, her mind a jumble of fragmented thoughts and sensations before it all began to slip away. She felt herself floating, while she began to feel her limbs spread underneath a warm, familiar fabric. The creaking of the floorboards continued, accompanied by the gentle click of an opening door. Then, a soft breath caressed her ear, and a delicate touch brushed against a strand of her hair. She froze, every muscle tensing as a gentle hand continued, tenderly stroking her hair. As the fingers trailed down the strand, Y/N remained motionless, her body unresponsive. A voice, momentarily unfamiliar, deep and paternal, settled through her eardrums like melted butter.

"It's time for your medicine, my dear," the man's voice resonated softly, hardly above a whisper.

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