#factory future did nothing wrong

[donutz]

Poppy Playtime with a twist!!

SUMMARY||So younger you meets you in the present at poopy playhouse, but like it's super cool

EVERYONE THINKS THE STAFF DISSAPPEARED 10 YEARS AGO

WE'RE STILL HERE.

FIND THE FLOWER

ꕤ

“Find the flower?” Is it a pretty flowerrr? Not really..

Playtime Co? Oh. Playtime Co. Uhm. Well everybody who worked there isn't working there, not anymore. I'm not saying they disappeared. I read the letter!!

.

.

.

Hey they spelt disappeared wrong.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I drive over to Playtime Co in my [any type of car] and end up seeing blocked off doors.

I mean this place is abandoned so what do you expect?

Another warning to not go in. But like, I'm wayyy too bored in life so I'm goin in.

Somebody's at the door?

I wonder who.

After 10 minutes, surprisingly not taking long, I managed to open the doors.

Getting a view of the colorful place that I once worked at, I also see a person.

“Hello! I was waiting for you! Somebody told me you got sent an envelope so I stood here, waiting.”

I stood there, looking at them with a bit of surprise. And being a little bit suspicious.

Are they not gonna talk?

They kind of look like me, as if they were my identical twin. Just born at different times.

.

.

.

I somehow muster the courage to speak up after a moment of awkward silence.

“... Why do you look like me, but older..” I asked with sweat slowly collecting on my face.

I take note of what they said and say, “Hm, come here for a sec”.

I walk over to them and stand there looking at them, looking away from time to time.

“Hm.” I examine the person. “Oh! Because I am you but older”!

“WH— What.” I lowered my volume, just in case something would spawn out of nowhere.

“It looks like you went to the future.” I tell the past me.

“You're me? But older? Coooll.” I drag my words with imaginary stars in my eyes.

“Follow me m'kay?” I command. Sounds kinda fancy, command.

“Kay!”

I was so gullible.

We both go to a colorful room with a few trains that have different colors per train.

“You see those trains right?” I question my younger self.

“Yea”.

“Those colors on each train are for a color code.” I stated.

“Green, pink—”

“Yellow and red”.

“Good. Now we're gonna go to that color pad thing and put in the colors”.

“Can IIIII do that..?” I ask with a smile on my face.

“Sure.”

I put in the colors and the door unlocked. I softly grabbed the handle as I slowly opened the door, observing what's inside the room.

“There's nothing spooky in the room”.

.. Stupidly, I flinched from older me talking because of how focused I was.

“Did you just flinch”?

“No”.

“I don't know what you're talking about”.

“... Sure”.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

After finishing the grabpack tutorial, we go up to the big door and I[past me] scan[scans] with my[their] blue hand.

“This might take a bit so just wait”.

“Okay”.

The door is fully open.

I see, huggy? But he's.. Oh. “Hey young me”.

“Yeeeess?” I ask with curious eyes.

“I think, I went back to the past”.

“You did”?

“Yea”.

“I'm gonna nerd out for a sec”.

“It's okay, I do that too”.

“I think that once you started coming here, maybe the factory was— restarting to the past. Like a process of it. Maybe that's why they were moving around so much. While I was at the front desk it was still happening. But when you entered it finished. Oh and y'know what? Maybe me walking around here was also me going through that time traveling process.” I explained.

I was wide-eyed. Mouth open a little bit even.

Ooo. That's.. Okay..? I mean I hate what's gonna happen but. Whatevs. “Yo, tiny baby”.

“.. Me? Are you seriously talking to me”?

“Mhm. Follow me”.

“Is that Huggy Wuggy”.

“No, it's Gojo— who do you think that is”?

“I—!” I make a click sound with my tongue and look away.

“You suck.” I claim, furrowing my eyebrows.

“Thanks. Anyways, this is my baby, Huggy. Who is going to kill us in the future. Or try to”.

“Hey, I bet you twenty bucks that once we go into a room, after like 30 seconds he'll be gone. But you gotta look away. Anddd, I bet you another 5 bucks that he can hear us, or me, talking right now”!

“That's not fair. You're in the future so you know it's going to happen”.

“Mhm, bet or no bet”?

“No bet”.

“>:/”

I go to the door with a bunch of stuff inside and try to open it.

But I end up hearing a jingle of keys..?

“Thanks Huggy.” I smiled when saying that and walked towards the electronic room. At least that's what I call it.

Unlocking it I go in—

“Don't leave me pretty please”!!!

…I expected younger me to follow but I don't need to worry right now.

Once we were in the room, the door locked. I mean that's what I heard. I'm basically going through my life, again. This is something that would be studied. Old people would kill for something like this.

“Did the door lock”?

“I don't know, try opening it”.

I wandered over to the poles and solved a puzzle while younger me was freaking out over the locked door.

“Uhmmmmm, I think Huggy's gone”!!!

“Wait weally????” I mocked, a small smile creeping up on my face.

“SHUT UP I'M SERIOUS!!!” I yelled, DO THEY.. I. Uhm. DOES OLDER ME NOT UNDERSTAND???

“I've been through this already, you baby”.

“...”

I finished the puzzle and then walked towards the kid.

“Move out the way please!!” I said, making my eyes big and sad looking, like a cartoon character.

“>:[”

The door opened, and we both walked out.

“Alright, time to move to the next area”.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[hungryforhungergames]

Long Night

Short Summary

Seraphina escaped District 8, but the shadows of the Hunger Games haunt her still. Forced into the role of Panem’s First Lady, she’s a gilded prisoner—draped in luxury but chained by fear and memories. Tonight, beneath the Capitol’s glittering facade, she’s forced to watch children march to their deaths, silenced by a man who owns her past and controls her future.

TW: Coriolanus is his usual dark self

The Story

Even though it’s been a long time since Seraphina lived in district 8, she can still remember everything in detail.

The sound of the birds waking her up in the morning for another day working in the factory, the smell of the expensive fabric she worked with to make gowns for the Capitol. 

Seraphina worked hard in the factory to be able to afford a house that wasn’t falling apart, where she and her mother could live in peace. Her life there wasn’t perfect, money was limited, which meant they couldn’t always afford simple things such as food or clothes. 

Here in the Capitol, she has nothing to worry about. Every day, the chef serves her the most exceptional meals and the maids will deliver every single thing she asks for.

Most of the time, it’s something simple such as a cup of tea, but Seraphina is sure they would deliver anything. 

It’s a luxury people would pay for, maybe even kill. But for Seraphina it still feels strange after all those years living in district 8.

When she expressed those thoughts to Coriolanus a few weeks after moving in with him, he pressured her to start adjusting to her new life. If she’s going to be the first lady of Panem, she needs to start acting like it. 

Yes, first lady of Panem. For Seraphina it still felt unreal. Many girls in the Capitol wish to take her spot, next to Coriolanus Snow. They would slid each other's throat in order to be the one he kisses.

The life of a first lady is filled with luxury and more money one could ever spend in their life. 

Seraphina tries her hardest not too, but she spots the faces filled with jealousy whenever Coriolanus takes her out to an event, such as a ball.

All the women wish they could be Seraphina, while Seraphina wishes she could be one of them.

She never asked for any of this, being first lady was not something she ever dreamed of. When Coriolanus took her to the Capitol, she thought it was just to protect her.

She was stupid enough to think that he would let her go back to district 8 when it was safe to return.

But she was wrong. Coriolanus never intended for her to return back, he wanted her to become his wife. His first lady. There was no way he was going to let her go back to district 8. 

Seraphina feels like she is a bird in a cage. She has to admit Coriolanus is nice to her, sometimes she even forgets what he did to her.

He kisses her like he really loves her and she believes he even does, but in his own twisted ways. Forcing someone to stay isn’t love.

All she can do is pretend that she is okay with her new life, okay with the fact that she left district 8 behind.

**

Today is a day where she can’t act like everything is okay, the Hunger Games parade. Twenty-four children being sent to death, paraded by horse-drawn carriages like super stars. 

Seraphina remembers all too well how her entire body was trembling during the Reaping, scared to be thrown into the arena. It was a horrendous experience seeing her classmates getting picked and never seeing them returning to their family.

The Hunger Games ruined families all over Panem and Seraphina can’t stand besides Coriolanus like everything is okay.

It’s the first time Seraphina will experience the Hunger Games in the Capitol. Coriolanus told her she will stand beside him on the presidential balcony, watching the parade from the best viewing point. She just nodded while her stomach dropped, scared to refuse.

But now that she sees the dress she is supposed to wear on the mannequin, she knows she can’t go.

She remembers the time where she was the one sewing these outfits. The director would yell at her if the seam of the hem was uneven. Girls would collapse out of hunger but nobody seemed to care. There were deadlines they had to meet.

The dress is beautiful, she has to admit. It’s emerald green with gold accents, completely designed to complement Coriolanus’ tailored suit. The dress definitely isn’t a simple design and she is sure multiple people have worked on it and were screamed at when they did something wrong.

They were making the dress of the future First Lady, so it needed to be perfect.

Seraphina takes a look at the clock, fifteen minutes until they are being picked up by sleek black cars that will take them to the Avenue of the Tributes.

She should have put on this dress a long time ago, but she just can’t. It feels like her feet are stuck at the ground while she stands in front of the mannequin. 

**

A knock on the door makes Seraphina jump out of her thoughts.

“Seraphina, it’s almost time.”

The sound of Coriolanus’ voice makes shivers run down her spine. He won’t be happy if he doesn’t see her in the dress he chose for her.

She doesn’t respond, because it feels like she can’t. Tears are already forming in her eyes and it feels like her throat is squeezed shut. She hopes he will leave her alone, but he doesn’t. President Snow never leaves anything alone.

“I said it’s almost time.”

His voice is dark like usual, but there’s a colder tone in there. Seraphina swallows while she keeps quiet, feeling his presence behind the door that is separating them.

The door creaks open and now she feels the weight of his eyes on her. She’s still in her bath robe that she put on after her daily bath and it gives her warmth and a sense of safety. But with Coriolanus, you never know if you are safe.

“Why aren’t you dressed?”

He asks and walks closer to her. For a second, it sounds like he is worried, like he thinks something is wrong with her and she isn’t dressed because she feels sick or something like that.

But Seraphina knows he knows what she thinks about the Hunger Games, so it’s just a deception.

“I can’t go.”

Seraphina decides to reveal the truth immediately. The room grows silent and she can hear the clock ticking on the wall. Each second that passes, the air gets heavier.

“Excuse me?”

Coriolanus acts like he didn’t hear the words coming out of her mouth, but they both know he did. He raises his eyebrow and walks over to her, his footsteps purposely.

“I said I can’t go.”

Seraphina repeats herself, trying her best to keep her voice steady and looking like she got everything under control. Maybe confidence can help her out of this situation.

“I can’t stand there next to you on the balcony, seeing those children being marched to their deaths. I can’t act like I’m above them because I lived in the districts, Coriolanus. I know their fear. God, I even used to sew the outfits for the parade.”

She continues, stepping away from him. She keeps shaking her head in disbelief and starts pacing the room, remembering the outfits she used to make for the tributes. 

One time, she had to make an outfit for someone from her own factory, a small girl who she sometimes had lunch with. A part of Seraphina broke that day.

Coriolanus shakes his head and closes the gap between them, holding her by her shoulders to stop her from walking away.

“Seraphina, you’re not one of them anymore. Now you live in the Capitol and you need to act like it. You’re the future First Lady for god’s sake.”

He tells her and nods towards the emerald green dress on the mannequin.

“You see that dress? No one from the districts can wear that, because they can’t afford it. The fact that you will wear this tonight, says enough.”

Coriolanus didn’t say she ‘can’ wear the dress tonight, no. She will wear the dress tonight because she is going, whether she likes it or not.

“So just because I’m not living in the districts means I should forget who I used to be? Just because you took me away from there doesn’t mean I should be applauding children who are going to die within days!”

Seraphina yells and tries to shake Coriolanus’ hands from her shoulder. His grip is strong though, which means she unfortunately fails. 

Coriolanus sighs and looks at the clock on the wall, almost ten minutes until they have to leave. Seraphina will have to hurry putting on that dress, they can’t afford to be late. He shakes her by her shoulders to try to make her see some sense.

“You want to go back to district 8 then? Don’t you remember how you were living until I saved you from there? You couldn’t even afford food or simple clothes.”

Coriolanus thinks back at the time where he first saw her. 

She wasn’t as thin as the other workers, but she sure didn’t eat enough. Her house wasn’t great either and the only clothes he saw her in were her working clothes.

She should be grateful he took her to the Capitol and gives her everything she needs.

“You didn’t save me! I didn’t need to be saved, you just took me out of there. My life there wasn’t perfect but at least it was home.”

Seraphina says, feeling her eyes get teary at the thought of home. She hasn’t felt at home in the Capitol since she arrived, she feels so out of place in this fake world.

“The Capitol is your home now, Seraphina. Your home is here with me. You belong here now. Your past is a story I own. Do not forget it.”

Coriolanus tells her and drops his hands from her shoulder, leaning forward to press a kiss to her lips to shut her up. Seraphina tries to move away, so he grabs her jaw to keep her still. After they pull apart, he points to the mannequin again.

“You will wear that dress and you will stand beside me tonight at the parade. And if you don’t, I will remind you how little freedom you actually have.”

He walks away from her, leaving her breathless. Right before he leaves the room, he turns around again before he tells her:

“Ten minutes. In the car. Don’t make me wait.”

**

One of her maids helped her put her dress on as quickly as possible and even helped her touch up her make-up. The maid helped her into a pair of heels that she didn’t want to wear and styled her hair with some pins and hairspray.

Within minutes, she looks like the future First Lady of Panem again, not Seraphina from district 8. 

“I’m sorry he’s doing this to you.”

The maid whispers so softly Seraphina can barely hear it. Her words surprise her, none of the other maids dare to speak up about the president’s behaviour, scared something will happen to them if they do. 

Seraphina just nods, unable to say any words. Another knock on the door alarms her it’s time to go and the maid helps her out of the room.

The guards escort her through the palace to the car waiting for her. The halls are quiet, the only noise is her heels clicking against the marble floor.

Every step brings her closer to the parade, to seeing those innocent children scared for their life even though they try their hardest to not show their fear.

The sleek black car is standing at the end of the massive stairs, with Coriolanus standing beside it. When she reaches him, he offers her his hand to help her get in the car, the Capitol press already taking pictures of their sweet President offering his future wife a helping hand.

Everything is for show and the parade hasn’t even started.

She slides in the backseat, feeling the leather of the seat stick to her skin. Within seconds, Coriolanus slides in next to her and the door shuts before the car starts moving.

While the driver takes them to the Avenue of the Tributes, Seraphina looks out of the window. She sees little people, all the Capitol’s citizens are either watching the parade in real life or in front of their TV. 

“You look beautiful.”

Coriolanus tries to lighten the mood and compliments her as if nothing happened.

“There are no camera’s, you don’t need to pretend.”

Seraphina tells him, rolling her eyes at the compliment. She hates him when he acts so loving after he did something so cruel as sending her to the parade to watch children marked for death.

“Can’t I say I think my future wife looks beautiful? Just because I made you go here, doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

He says. Seraphina turns her head away from the window to look at him. The sharp line of his jaw, the meticulously combed hair, the calm arrogance in his posture. Everything about Coriolanus Snow is polished, perfected, and calculated.

Seraphina doesn’t say anything, just looks at him. He sighs and pinches the edge of his noise.

“Seraphina, you know I love you. I wouldn’t have taken you here if I didn’t love you. Everything I do, I do because I want what’s best for you. I know what’s best for you.”

He tells her and nods towards the presidential balcony that has come into view. The car slows down and it’s clear they will have to go outside soon.

“You will smile, you will wave. If I see one look filled with pity or a small tear streaming down your cheek, we will have another conversation at home. And let me tell you darling, I won’t be as nice anymore.”

**

Seraphina shakes multiple hands on the presidential balcony while Coriolanus' hands are wrapped around her waist. The parade is about to begin and a director shows them to their seats. 

The anthem of Panem blares from the speakers that line the Avenue of the Tributes and the crowd starts cheering, excited to see the new tributes.

To them, they aren’t real humans, they are just pawns in their games. The crowd begins to clap when the first chariots appear.

First there is district one, a strong district whose tributes have won multiple times already. The two tributes are wearing shimmering silver outfits and wave to the crowds with confidence, because they know they have a chance to win.

Then there is district 2, 3 and 4. Some of the tributes wave, others don’t. Either way, the crowd cheers and screams their names.

The tributes of district 5 are dressed in black and don’t seem to move from where Seraphina is standing. Their faces are neutral and the only thing they are looking at is the presidential balcony. Seraphina locks eyes with the male tribute and a shiver runs down her spine.

In the crowd, children are sitting on their parent’s backs while they throw confetti and rose petals. It makes Seraphina sick to her stomach. Coriolanus just sits there next to her while nothing seems to affect him.

The tributes of district 6 and 7 pass by on their chariots and then Seraphina’s stomach drops. The tributes of district 8 have appeared.

The boy and girl ride silently. Their outfits are made of fabric scraps sewn into armor threadwork turned into art. The Capitol will love it. But Seraphina sees the way the girl’s hands shake against the reins of the chariot, the way the boy’s jaw flexes every time the crowd cheers.

Seraphina feels tears starting to form in her eyes, this isn’t right. They shouldn’t be here, they should be home in district 8. They have been ripped from their families who are now watching their children on TV.

The female tribute, who can’t be older than fourteen, looks up the presidential balcony and locks eyes with Seraphina. And then she sees it, it’s one of the girls she used to work with in the factory. She just started a few days before Coriolanus took her away, but it’s definitely her.

For a moment, Seraphina thinks the girl recognizes her too. The girl doesn’t smile or wave at her, but there’s this look in her eyes that says enough.

The girl seems to see right through her and sees Seraphina as the girl from district 8, not the future First Lady who stands besides President Snow.

The other chariots take the children to the large area in front of the presidential balcony. Seraphina knows the cameras are focused on them, Panem expects a speech from their president.

Coriolanus leans over to her and presses a kiss to her cheek, which makes the crowd erupt.

“Stay here and behave.”

He whispers in her ear before he stands up to walk to the pulpit. With a raise of his hand, the crowd goes quiet.

Seraphina doesn’t really hear what he’s saying, but it’s probably something like:

“To punish the districts, we hold the Hunger Games. Tributes this, tributes that.”

After he finishes his speech, the crowds starts cheering for him while the chariots take the tributes back inside. With one last look to the little girl from district 8, Seraphina knows she will never belong here.

**

After the parade, Coriolanus talked with some gamemakers while she stood beside him, but luckily they could leave pretty soon after that.

The ride back home is silent. One of Coriolanus’ hands is holding her thigh, keeping in her place. He doesn’t say a word while the driver takes them back to the presidential palace.

The other hand of Coriolanus is twitching slightly, a warning that Seraphina has learned to fear.

Seraphina knows she did something wrong, but she can’t figure out what. Did her smile seem to fake? Was her posture too stiff? Did the girl from District 8 ruin everything with just one look?

When they arrive at the presidential palace, it doesn’t take long before they find themselves in his office.

Seraphina stands awkwardly in the middle of the room while Coriolanus pours himself a glass of bourbon. He takes a sip of the liquor before he speaks up:

“You almost ruined it.”

Seraphina doesn’t know what to say for a moment, ruined it? How could she have ruined it? She didn’t cry, she watched those poor children just like he said.

“I didn’t say anything.”

She protests and wraps her arms around herself.

“You didn’t need to say anything, they could see it. You stood there like a statue, not like the proud woman besides the president as you should be.”

Coriolanus tells her and shakes his head, placing the glass down on his desk. Slowly he walks over to her and she feels like she can’t breathe.

“No one saw anything, they were too busy cheering those children to their deaths.”

She whispers. The slap comes faster than she expected. It stings but she doesn’t cry, he doesn’t deserve that.

“You should be grateful that I chose you. All the girls in the Capitol would kill for the life I give you, to stand beside me. They wouldn’t complain and they would be on my side. They would thank me after every kiss I give them, they would kiss my feet to get me to fuck them. Everything they would do in their life would be to please me.”

Coriolanus hisses and grips her shoulder before yanking her closer to him. 

She can feel his breath on her skin and for a second she thinks about spitting on his face, but she’s already in too much trouble.

“I had senators’ daughters begging for my attention. Daughters of generals, of financiers, women with perfect Capitol pedigrees, born and bred to stand beside power. I had families paying me to let their daughter sleep in my bed. Women who would give everything to be the girl on my arm. But yet, I chose you, a factory girl from district 8.”

He snarls. 

“So why don’t you replace me then?”

Seraphina asks while tears drop from her eyes onto her cheek. Coriolanus is quick to wipe it away with his thumb and strokes her cheekbone for a second like he didn’t just slap her, like the words coming out of his mouth aren’t as sharp as knives.

“Replace you? Darling, you wouldn’t want to be replaced if you knew what would happen to you. Do you think I would just let you go back to district 8, to the factory? No, it would be far too dangerous. Those district scum would kill you the second they saw you. In their eyes, you are a traitor.  I would sell you to one of my most trusted advisors who are looking for a little brat they can train until you don’t even know your own name anymore. I’ve seen them do it, and trust me, you would be begging on your knees for me to take you back in.”

Seraphina’s eyes grow wide at the idea of being sold to one of his advisors. She has met some advisors before and she can remember their lustful eyes examining her body.

“They would punish you far worse than I do. Lock you up for days without any contact with the world, make you crawl around their house with a lease around your neck. Bruise your beautiful skin until you know your place in their world. Do you want that, baby? Do you want to be used like that?”

His cold hand cradles her cheek while spitting out the words, his hand is steady so she can’t turn away from the truth. Everything Coriolanus says is true, he knows how his advisors handle their women.

Seraphina shakes her head fastly, more tears spilling from the thought of being used like that. Coriolanus is cruel, but he never did stuff to her like that. Of course, sometimes he gets mad at her and slaps her, but that’s as far as he goes.

“No?”

He mocks her and moves her head in a shaking motion with his hand while fake pouting.

“Tell me baby, would you want that?”

Coriolanus urges her to speak up, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“No, I wouldn’t.”

Seraphina whispers, her voice as shaky as her body. From all the adrenaline, Seraphina has a hard time standing straight up and she needs to concentrate in order to not fall to the ground. Coriolanus smiles and places a kiss on her cheek, wiping away more tears.

“No, you wouldn’t. I chose you because I love you, Seraphina. I’ve loved you since the second I saw you in that factory. I have given you everything you need, you have the status of a queen here in Panem. So all I ask you, is to stand beside me as you should. When I tell you to smile like you mean it, you smile like your life depends on it. And you know why? You owe me your life.”

Coriolanus motions around the expensive office they are standing in, referring to the presidential palace they are living in. A part of Seraphina knows he is right. Even though her new life feels like a cage, she has everything she needs.

She nods at his words and lets him plant a kiss on her forehead, before resting his against hers. They stand there in silence while she’s processing what just happened. She can hear the fireworks being set off by the Capitol citizen’s, celebrating the end of the parade. When the room is lit by the light of the fireworks when goes off, he says:

“Let's get you a cup of tea, yeah? It’s been a long night.”

[agirlwithdemonblood]

Through the Shadows: Chapter 10 - Nightmares

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Summary: A hunter's Journey through despair and recovery is guided by Dean Winchester's unwavering love, leading her to reclaim her strength, voice and hope for their shared future.

Chapter Summary: Y/N can't decide which nightmare is the worst, the ones plaguing her dreams or the ones she's living.

Warnings: nightmare, comforting dean, anxiety, swearing.

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

The night settled over the bunker like a heavy blanket, darkness seeping into every corner. Y/N slept fitfully, her dreams a twisted tapestry of past horrors and present fears. In her subconscious, the memories of the factory haunted her-echoes of pain, fear, and voices that tormented her.

She thrashed in her sleep, tears streaming down her cheeks as she cried out in anguish. Her voice pierced the quiet of the night, a raw sound of suffering that cut through Dean's dreams. He awoke with a start, heart pounding in his chest as he rushed down the hallway to Y/N's room.

Panic gripped him when he found her tangled in her sheets, her face contorted in distress. "Y/N!" Dean called out urgently, kneeling beside her bed. "Wake up!"

But Y/N was trapped in her nightmare, lost in a world of torment. She cried out, begging for mercy, her body jerking with every imagined blow. Dean gently shook her, trying to provoke her from the grip of her dream, but it only seemed to intensify her panic.

In her terror, Y/N pushed away frantically, her movements uncoordinated and desperate. She fell off the bed with a sharp cry, curling into herself as she pleaded. "No, please, don't hurt me anymore!"

Dean's heart shattered at her words, his own eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Y/N, it's Dean," he urged, reaching out to touch her trembling shoulder. "You're safe. It's just a dream."

But Y/N couldn't hear him through the haze of fear. Her breathing quickened, each gasp a struggle for air as her mind relived the horrors of the past. Dean's desperation grew as he pulled her into a tight embrace, trying to anchor her in reality.

"Relax, sweetheart, wake up." Dean whispered desperately, his voice breaking with emotion. "It's me, Y/N. You're safe now."

Slowly, Y/N's panicked movements began to still, her eyes fluttering open with confusion and guilt. She sobbed apologizes, her voice hoarse with tears. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." She repeated, her hands trembling as she reached for Dean.

"Don't apologize," Dean murmured softly, his arms tightening around her. "It's okay. You did nothing wrong."

He helped her back into bed, tucking the blankets around her with gentle care. Y/N stared up at him, her eyes filled with shame and gratitude. Dean sat beside her, a silent lookout guarding her rest, his presence a comfort in the darkness.

"You should try to sleep," Dean urged gently, his voice a soothing whisper. "I'll be right outside if you need anything."

Y/N nodded weakly, exhaustion washing over her in waves. She closed her eyes, finally succumbing to the lure of sleep. Dean remained by her door, his gaze fixed on her peaceful face, his thoughts a uproar of worry and fierce protectiveness.

The morning sun cast a soft glow through the bunker, painting the walls in hues of warmth. Y/N slept peacefully, exhaustion finally granting her a release from the relentless chaos of her mind. Dean awoke with a start, his thoughts immediately turning to Y/N. He quietly slipped out of the chair, careful not to make any noise, and made his way to the kitchen in the search of coffee.

In the kitchen, Sam noticed Dean's tired expression and concern traced into every line of his face. "Dean, you look like you haven't slept. You okay?" Sam remarked, his voice laced with worry.

Dean shrugged, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "Long night. I wanted to be around in case Y/N woke up again." he explained, his gaze distant with memories of the night before.

Sam chuckled softly, earning a puzzled look from dean. "What's so funny?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam shook his head, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Just a few months ago, you couldn't stand her," he replied teasingly, "Now, she's your favorite person."

Dean felt heat rise to his cheeks, his expression softening with fondness. "Shut up, Sammy," he muttered, though his tone lacked it's usual bite.

Sam's smile turned sincere. "Seriously, Dean," he said gently. "It's great. I've never seen you like this with anybody, so open and passionate."

Dean's throat tightened with unspoken emotions. He knew Sam was right. Y/N had tunneled her way into his heart, weaving a tapestry of understanding and love that Dean had never expected to find in this lifetime.

Sam finally persuaded dean to get some rest, promising to keep an ear out for any signs of Y/N waking up. Reluctantly, Dean agreed, trusting Sam to watch over her.

Later, when Y/N emerged from her room, she immediately noticed Dean's absence and sought out Sam. "Where's Dean?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry.

Sam explained that Dean had been exhausted from last night and had gone to sleep. Y/N's anxiety spiked at the thought of Dean sacrificing his rest for her sake. "I'm just going to take some pain meds and go back to bed," she mumbled, her guilt weighing heavy on her.

The day passed slowly for Dean, who woke up later and searched out Sam to inquire about Y/N. "Did she come out of her room at all?" Dean asked, his concern evident.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, she did," he replied, "But she's in pain, so she took some meds and went back to bed."

Dean's heart sank at the news, uncertainty gnawing at him. He decided to check on Y/N, wanting to reassure himself that she was alright. He approached her room and knocked softly, calling her name. There was no response. Dean frowned, a mix of worry and frustration knotting in his stomach. Eventually, he gave up and left, though his thoughts remained with Y/N, his worry growing.

Meanwhile, Y/N lay in her bed, struggling to sleep as guilt and despair clouded her thoughts. She felt utterly useless, trapped within the suffocating grasp of her depression. The weight of Dean's concern only intensified her feelings of inadequacy, convincing her that she was a burden unworthy of his kindness.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 11 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

[polkadotzzzz]

god people are sickening

writing a whole ass story about mel being tortured by viktor? not to mention the many out there we havent discovered yet probably ten times worser?

god people are sick nowadays they can't accept that a beautiful black women has what they dont

they'll single mel out in their hate but love silco? the man who had children working in his drug factories?? heimerdinger who had been alive for centuries yet still let the undercity live like they were??? and you have to admit even your fan favorite characters has done worse than mel sevika and jinx knew what silco was doing yet neither put an end to it caitlyn gassed an entire city innocents getting caught in the crossfire (not that she doesn't get hate for it)

mel did nothing to deserve this

"oh she manipulated jayce blah blah blah" as she should! he's a dumbass could've hurt a lot of people with his experiments and she was securing her future she does no wrong i dont care

if you hate mel you aren't welcome here

btw im gonna write her and vander and she's gonna get a man that treats her like she's the entire world (she is)

HATERS STAY MAD!!!!! 🤪😝🤗🤭🤣🤣🤣😂🤣😂🤣

[youhavehitawall]

I didn’t think I had anything else to ask, but then I tried to sleep and I was wrong

So some, maybe half, of Ratchet’s mobility issues come from injuries that healed wrong huh? That does make sense, and fixing that would require breaking those parts and making them heal correctly, which would then necessitate a repeat of a painful healing process

You can’t just say that Firestorm finding out that Robyn shot Ricochet would be a disaster and not elaborate, that just makes me wonder

The problem with being pushed off a bridge at a hundred-fifty kilometers per hour and falling four stories to land roof-down on the tarmac, for Ratchet, is that he is not an australian model and was already past the point of factory support when he crashed.

And not only is he not an australian model, he isn't an american model anymore either. Rundown Turboski turned him into a unique monstrous hybrid. His entire running gear is different.

Ratchet isn't really a 1959 Plymouth Fury Sport. He's a custom build with a pretty outer shell that looks like a 1959 Plymouth Fury Sport.

He spent five years in a mechanic's shop being tinkered with. A lot of his parts are second-hand things shipped overseas and cleaned up. Even more is custom or re-rigged from completely different breeds of car.

And the tech who fixed him did a fantastic, impossible task. A labour of love, above and beyond.

And it still just. Isn't. Right.

(And Rundown could fix him, but he's never going back home, is he?)

The drama between Firestorm and Robyn would be genuinely cataclysmic. Robyn would try to be all sad and pathetic and Firestorm would reach in and drag all her rage and abandonment issues out for the world to see. It's not just Ricochet being shot; its the endless childhood afternoons of being locked inside so he couldn't wander too far, snobbing his friends so they don't come to his home, pushing for answers because she didn't get the response she wanted. It all comes to a head when he learns she forced away his favourite brother. (And then LIED TO HIM for YEARS and IGNORED HIM AND-) Three siblings dead and nothing to show for it. He wants to kill her. Maybe he tries and maybe she doesn't fight back.

Robyn never actively tried to be abusive but she was. She never changed. I think she would change after this, but I also don't think Ricochet or Firestorm would forgive her for what she's done.

But they don't need to forgive the past to look for a brighter future.

[a-blue-mask]

"Our dear thing"

McMillan twins x GN!Reader

Sequel to "Our pretty thing"

Warnings: romanticized toxicity, horror, gore, objectification, power dynamic, everything a relationship shouldn't be, romantic undertones but in the most wrong way possible?

Author note: GODS HOW LONG DID THIS TAKE ME. It sat in the drafts for an eternity. I didn't even add much before publishing but I needed to give it a conclusion that wasn't an attempt at something that just wasn't meant to be there. It's not even good as a whole but I want it out of the way. Have fun, enjoy, remember this isn't something meant to be healthy- y'all know the drill.

It had been a few weeks since you arrived in Forgotten Hill... since your abduction. You had come to accept the fact that you weren't leaving as you learned more about the town.

Forgotten Hill was under the control of a witch, Ruth, aided by Theodore, Ethan and Nathan. To think that something like witches and monsters existed... and two of those monsters had decided that you were their property. Yes, Ethan and Nathan had a human face and body, but you knew they were just as terrible as the disfigured beasts the doctor created, or the cannibalistic puppets the other made out of humans. You could pity those creatures, as you could have become one of them at any time; but you couldn't have pity or sympathy for their creators, your tormentors.

Your days were mostly spent at the hospital, where you had a room, the same one they put you in the first time you arrived. Now and then you would be pulled out of it and either twin would have a turn studying you.

Nathan seemed to be almost obsessed with your hands and limbs, observing and feeling your articulations bend. Sometimes he would bruise one of your fingers or dislocate your arms as he studied how they moved, by accident... though you suspected they weren't always accidents. After that he'd take you to his brother to "get you fixed". Ethan always scolded his twin for being so careless with you.

The colonel wasn't as rough. According to Theodore, a guy with a creepy smile that would visit the twins now and then, Ethan wanted to recreate your beauty. The doctor's studies usually included a lot of touching your face to feel the bones and muscles, and a lot of writing down notes and sketching what he guessed was under your skin.

Within the first visits, you learned to tell them apart by their looks: Ethan had a less cured appearance and dark circles under his eyes, and his expression was always serious and calm, while Nathan seemed to have infinite enthusiasm and energy, and he also cared more about his looks. Their personalities also differed. Ethan was stricter in dictating his rules, but rarely punished you for acting up and was more indulging in your questions. Nathan acted laid back and friendly, and he'd usually grant you more freedom in moving around as long as he could see you, but would easily snap if you did something he didn't approve of.

It was late at night, and you were strolling down the hospital's corridor, when you heard a loud scream. Nothing unusual, since you knew this place wasn't a real hospital and more like a monster factory where human rights were disregarded... Those screams were rather common. Still, the sound sent a shiver down your spine. It was a reminder that as soon as Ethan got done with his studying, that could become you, and your agony would echo in the halls as he turned you into a mindless monster. Then you'd aimlessly roam Forgotten Hill for the rest of your cursed existence.

It took all your willpower not to break down in that moment. You were used by now to the idea of danger lurking in every corner, but as you stopped fearing the immediate danger, it became easier to be scared of the future and feel helpless. Anxiety attacks and crying for hours were almost a daily routine. So lost in your thoughts, you didn't realise Ethan had stopped right behind you. His hand gently tapped on your shoulder, making you flinch and turn around abruptly. He was still wearing his operating claws, the long and sharp metal blades that helped him dissect his patients, so you accidentally cut your cheek on one of them in your movements. The scare and the small prick of pain were enough to send you into a breakdown, but you swallowed your tears and tried putting on a brave front. The doctor was looking at you through the eyes of his bug mask.

«My apologies dear... I should have taken these off earlier.» he said as he stepped closer, looking at the cut. It wasn't deep, but he still motioned for you to follow him to the nurse's office. As far as you knew there was no nurse in the hospital, though there were pictures of one in the office.

Ethan made you sit, then started taking off his operating claws. They were sharp, and looked clean, except for the one that scratched your cheek. A tear threatened to fall from your eye, as you thought that one day those claws could be dissecting you. Another flinch of your body followed as Ethan now pressed a tissue with alcohol to your cut. You didn't notice him getting closer, yet he was standing right in front of you now. You didn't notice him taking his mask off either, yet his dark eyes were staring right back into yours. Would he operate on you with his mask off? Or would you have to stare at the horrible bug eyes while your body got mutilated? It was haunting to think about.

«Why were you in the corridor? I thought I was clear about the rules.» he scolded you as he applied a small bandaid to your cheek. He would often catch you walking around despite not being allowed to, but he never really punished you for it. Still, his stern tone was enough to make your lip quiver.

«I-I'm sorry... I just couldn't sleep.»

His hand gently held the side of your face, his eyes scrutinizing your expression. Always so cold and analytical, would that be the look he'd give you on the operating table? Just thinking about it...

«Dear, are you crying?»

His voice was a little softer this time. Tears were freely falling down your cheeks, but you couldn't help it. It was all too much. Normally you'd try to hold yourself together until you were alone, but tonight it was all coming crashing down.

«I don't want to die... or to become a monster...» you murmured with a strained voice, trying your hardest to hold back your sobs. Ethan frowned, then took your face in both of his hands, holding you gently

«Dearest, I don't intend to do any of that to you... I promise I'll keep you safe, so don't cry, please.»

Even his voice was gentle now, and his eyes softer than you had ever seen before. It was hard to believe that was the same Ethan that would make the hospital echo in the screams of his patients. This Ethan didn't like to see you cry, he didn't intend to harm you, he just wanted to comfort you.

«You won't cut me up...?» was your quiet question, still suspicious yet looking for the reassurance. He hummed, still looking into your eyes, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.

«I won't. I'll keep you as beautiful and whole as you are now.» he promised. He could have been lying, he could have been telling you this to soothe your temporarily... But somehow you felt like that was a genuine promise.

Just as you had started to calm down, the door to the infirmary slammed open. A familiar mask peeked inside, one you knew all too well.

«There you are! I believe today-»

Nathan cut himself off suddenly. In an instant he moved from the door to where you were sitting, with those soulless orbs staring into your eyes. His mask, figuring a crow typical of Forgotten Hill, made your anxiety rise again. Maybe Ethan wouldn't hurt you, but would he stand up to Nathan if he had decided to turn you into a puppet? Or would you have to stare into the crow's eyes while your limbs got broken and replaced with sticks, your body then controlled by strings and forced to dance on the stage for all eternity?

«Why are you crying, dear? It's unlike Ethan to be rough.»

Even though you weren't crying anymore, tears still stained your cheeks. Nathan's hand, the same that often bruised your limbs by accident, came up to dry your face. Your body tensed up as soon as his fingers brushed against your skin, and it didn't go unnoticed by the puppeteer. He took off his mask, then held your face with both of his hands. Now that you could see his expression he looked less creepy, and almost concerned.

«Dear?»

Even his voice didn't sound playful at all, just concerned.

«Am... am I going to become a puppet?»

Your voice was shaky, a bit hoarse from your crying. Ethan tensed up in your peripheral vision, as if he also wasn't sure how his brother would react. Would he protect you from Nathan if it was the case? Would he-

A loud cackle interrupted your thoughts. Nathan was laughing... if you could even call it laughter. Maybe comparing it to a feral cat being mauled would have been more accurate. His whole body was shaking, he seemed hysterical. Your eyes were locked on the sight, unable to look away.

He calmed down slowly, taking deep breaths, though a giggle still escaped from his lips.

«Dear, did- did you really think that? It's been weeks, and y-»

«And our dear thing is confused.»

Ethan's calm interruption didn't seem to bother Nathan, who just shrugged at his twin. Then he suddenly got up from his chair, clasping his hands together.

«Today is the day of the show! Come on dear, I came here just to get you.»

«Show? What-»

But before you could ask more, Nathan had already begun to pull you up from your seat and towards the door. He seemed excited, more than usual. You, on the other hand, were feeling disoriented and almost nauseous. Your body and mind could only take so much after all, and right then you didn't know if you were supposed to be scared about what Nathan wanted to show you, or relieved because he didn't seem interested in turning you into a puppet. Or did he? Maybe he wanted to make you into a puppet after all, and simply wanted to drag you to the theatre first...

Everything had built up until you had passed out. That must have been it, because when you opened your eyes you weren't in the hospital anymore; you were in a seat, a theatre seat. The walls and ceiling were dark, and the lights in the room were dim. A blanket was draped over your body, protecting you from the cold. You vaguely remembered one time mentioning to Nathan how cold it was in the theatre, especially in the evening.

A light then shone on the stage; the red curtains parted, revealing a puppet dressed as a jester, with bulging soulless eyes and a disproportionate body. It gave you the creeps.

You looked away, to your left, feeling the unease bubble in your chest. That was once a human being, with thoughts and feelings just like you. Now? It was swiftly maneuvered by the puppeteer, making him- it talk and dance on stage, like nothing was wrong.

«He wanted to cheer you up.»

You jumped in your seat at the voice on your right and turned around. Mask off and leaning back in his seat, was Ethan. His eyes were on the stage, following the puppet as it launched in a monologue about the wonders of the world.

«Nathan hates improvisation. He needs a script, with clear actions and sentences that have been written over and over again, until they express exactly what he wants to communicate to his audience.»

Now another puppet, wearing a costume with a star mask and smaller stars shining on its clothes, joins the scene; apparently, the first puppet's attention is stolen by its presence.

«What... What does that mean?»

Ethan smiled, following the play. Now the man on stage was dancing with the star, at a slow pace.

«You should pay more attention to the show. He put a lot of effort in it.»

Your attention went back to the stage, even though you could feel your nausea rise as you watched the thin strings pull at the puppets limbs, forcing what were once people to just obey to their puppeteer. The dancing of the man and the star became suddenly faster. The star was struggling to keep up, and soon fell to the ground. The man kneeled by its side, as if concerned.

"Why did you fall, little star?"

"You danced too fast, and my feet got scared, so I fell."

"Are you afraid of me, little star?"

"Yes, I am afraid of you."

"But I want to keep you, little star."

"I don't want to be kept."

"But I'll admire you, little star."

"I don't want to be admired."

"But what can I do then, little star?"

"You can let me go."

The man shakes his head.

"You can't abandon me, little star."

"Why?"

Pause.

"I... I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I don't know. Sometimes I just see something... and I don't want to let go."

The star sits up. It's its moment to talk now.

"You're impulsive."

"I'll be careful."

"You're a monster."

"Not to you. Never to you."

It started to click in your brain. The scene on stage was just a mirror, you started to realise. A reflection of your reality. Or rather, the reflection he wanted to show you.

"But you'll cage me."

"I... I will protect you."

That was the last straw. You stood up, head spinning and vision blurring. He was trying to make you pity him, to make you empathize with him and feel sorry for being afraid of him.

And the worst thing? It was working.

You were starting to feel something different from fear.

And that felt even scarier than whatever fate was originally planned for you.

[bringthekaos]

It's been almost 2 years now, and I can't stop thinking about Jayce's situation in ep 3. Imagine working SO HARD your WHOLE LIFE trying to prove the impossible, to recreate the moment that saved your life, and then BOOM it all gets ripped off in a day. You lose your funding, your friends, disgrace your House, your mentor expells you from the place you worked so hard to get into and are basically declared insane (in front of everyone). You are about to end it all and then out if nowhere the man who arrested you 48 hours before stops you, gives you hope, solves the final piece of the puzzle and risks it all to bring it to fruition for you (and he barely knows you)

Imagine what was like to wake up the next morning

—TW suicide mention—

OHMYGOD same. Like it makes me emotional sometimes, thinking about all that Jayce went through that day just to be hated by the fandom. This poor guy was chasing a dream, something deeply personal. He almost watched his mother die in front of him, and then he was basically gaslit for the rest of his youth by people who doubted that it was magic that saved them, and that he could replicate it through science. But he never gave up, he worked toward it for his entire life, made it his passion, his goal, his meaning. And he was careful, that’s the thing!! He knew what he was doing had the potential to be dangerous, and he took the proper precautions—per Mylo, he locked his balcony! “Who does that?!” He wanted to be as safe as humanly possible as he chased this dream.

And then through no fault of his own, everything came crashing down. Someone with no idea of the volatility of the gemstones ended up handling them, and dropping them. His apartment, his research, and most of his supplies were damaged in the blast, and we’re led to believe that some people on the street below were injured.

He then had his life’s work stripped away, and he was imprisoned for something he didn’t do. Imagine that you had your car safely locked up in your garage and someone broke in and stole it, then used it to hurt people. And they blamed you and arrested you for it, and threatened to derail your entire life. When you did nothing wrong.

And THEN, after all of that, he was put on trial, where he was condescended to and repeatedly called “boy” in front of his peers. And the head of this governing body came to him before the trial and attempted to scare and manipulate him into admitting fault. And he was going to, too, but in a moment of passion he had an outburst, which led to his mother making a desperate bid to save him from exile by standing up and calling her son crazy. You could see how much this hurt Jayce by the way he spun around to look at her—“magic didn’t just save me, it saved you! You’re alive today because of that mage, and now you’re gunna stand here and say I’m not in my right mind?! My own mother, abandoning me in front of God and everyone.” (Personally, I see what she did a little different; she said what she had to in order to save her son, even if she didn’t believe it to be true. She knew it would hurt him, but the alternative was worse. So in the moment, she said the hurtful thing, the thing she thought had the only chance of convincing the council to save him).

But that doesn’t change how badly it hurt him, how it left him feeling truly alone. So alone that he saw no way out. He had no future. He wasn’t prepared to abandon his only dream, his only passion, something he’d literally dedicated every waking breath to from the time he was eight (?) to go work in his father’s factory. And no one else would stand up for him, not his mentor Heimerdinger or his patrons the Kirammans. And he couldn’t even go to his best friend for comfort because they’d been cut off. So he decided to end it.

And then when he was at his lowest, to have such deep trust and confidence shown to him by a complete stranger—a stranger who’s willing to risk his own life and stability to see Jayce’s dream succeed. Who believes in it so wholeheartedly that he’s willing to betray the man Yordle he works for (who also happens to run both the Council AND the University) to get it done. And then in the process, he’s shown another person who’s willing to see what he can do, who believes in him. It’s catching like wildfire, and all it needed was that first spark that Viktor gave it.

I think Jayce must have literally been in shock. What a whiplash of emotions. He probably pinched himself multiple times over those few days, trying to wake himself up. And I imagine Viktor probably caught him once, furrowing his brows down at the reddening mark on the back of Jayce’s hand, the unspoken question in his eyes.

And Jayce probably blushed, looking down at his shoes as he bashfully rubbed the back of his neck and said,

“Oh, uh… just… just making sure I’m not dreaming.”

And that’s probably the first time Viktor felt the butterflies. 🥰

[winters8child]

It´s been a long, long time

Chapter 7

Nothing could deter me from the choice I had made, not even Steve’s pleading. At least that’s what I told myself as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was determined to give this guy my father wanted me to meet a chance. I got dressed, went downstairs, and spent the next two hours trying to engage in conversation with a guy named Marco, who was probably the most boring person I had ever talked to.

Whenever there was a lull in the conversation, my father would nudge him to tell me more about himself. I would nod, smile, and throw in an “Oh really?” now and then. The evening ended with me agreeing to a date tomorrow night. And why did I agree, you might ask? The answer was simple: I needed a distraction from certain boys, and he was there, so why not take the opportunity? I certainly wasn’t going to put myself out there to find anybody else.

My parents were delighted; their stubborn daughter was finally going on her first date with a “solid” guy, no less. Of course, they didn’t see my eyes rolling back into my skull every time Marco spoke. I was in my room getting ready when someone knocked on the door. It was my mother, holding something in her hand.

“Hey, dear, I have something for you. It’s my pearl necklace that you’ve always admired. I think you should wear it tonight.”

I looked at the delicate piece of jewelry. It was the only thing my mother couldn’t bring herself to sell so we could pay for our voyage to America. I had always wanted to wear it, but it felt wrong to do so now, for a guy I couldn’t care less about. Still, I took it and decided to put it on.

Exactly at 7 p.m., the doorbell rang, announcing the beginning of what promised to be a soul-crushing evening. I went downstairs where my father had already answered the door. When he saw me, he gave his obligatory “Have fun, you two, but not too much fun!” and laughed to himself. To my annoyance, Marco laughed too, though it was clearly the “I’m on a date with your daughter, so I have to laugh” kind of laugh.

He took my hand, and we walked to the ice cream parlor next to Prospect Park. It was bustling with other teens enjoying their weekend. “We Just Couldn’t Say Goodbye” by Victor Young was playing, and I thought to myself how much I wished I could just say goodbye to this whole situation. But we sat down, waiting for the waitress.

Marco started telling me about all his future plans: he wanted to work at the same shoe factory as our fathers, get married in four years, and have two children. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be the wife in his scenario, but I just smiled and nodded. When the waitress finally arrived, we ordered a vanilla milkshake for me and an ice cream sundae for him. As I looked around at the smiling couples, I wondered how genuine their happiness was. Did they get asked questions about themselves? The bell over the door rang, and a gorgeous blonde girl in a bubblegum pink dress and a white headband walked in, holding hands with one of the reasons I was on this goddamn date.

Marco seemed to know Bucky, and the next thing I knew, he was calling out, “Hey Barnes, over here!” Bucky turned, saw us, and for some unfathomable reason, started grinning. He and his date walked over, hand in hand, and that irked me to no end. Bucky shook hands with Marco, and they started chatting, our eyes rolling in tandem. After a few minutes, they said they were just picking up an order and would eat their ice cream over in Prospect Park, which somehow hurt more than it should have. As they left, I dared to meet Bucky’s eyes, and for a brief moment, his facade of nonchalance slipped, revealing a look of defeat.

After a grueling hour, Marco and I made our way back to my apartment. He asked if I wanted to take a walk in the park, but I said I was too tired and just wanted to go home. We stood awkwardly at my front door, and he fidgeted with something in his pocket. “Anyway, thank you for coming out with me. I should go inside. I’m…,” I began, but he didn’t let me finish. Instead, he leaned in suddenly and tried to kiss me on the lips. I turned just in time for his lips to land on my cheek instead. He mumbled a quick “Good night” and walked away. What a disastrous end to a horrible evening.

Just then, I heard a rustling in the bushes next to my front door. I walked over to check, but there was nothing there. As I turned around, a hand shot out and pulled me into the bushes. I screamed, and the person covered my mouth to silence me. “Pshh, it’s just me… ouch, goddamnit!” I bit his hand and turned around to see Bucky.

“What the hell? You scared me to death! Are you insane?” I yelled, shoving him. He just started laughing and apologized.

“I’m sorry. I just had to watch you two lovebirds. I’ve never felt more sorry for a guy in my life.”

“That’s not funny, okay? I wasn’t ready for…,” I began, but he cut me off.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” he asked, catching me off guard. I was embarrassed and just shook my head. I knew I didn’t want my first kiss to be with that guy. I looked up into Bucky’s eyes and said, “It shouldn’t be him. It’s a moment I want to remember, and I want to remember the right person.”

He stared at me, searching for the right words, and finally said, “I want to be that person. It might be selfish of me, but… I want you to remember me, no matter what happens.” His eyes flickered to my lips.

I was speechless, my heart racing, and I felt like I might faint. When I didn’t respond, he leaned in slowly and said, “Let me be selfish just this once.” The only words I could muster were, “Then be selfish.” And just like that, Bucky Barnes kissed me.

Next Chapter

[omghallucinations]

When I thought nothing could beat the atz members in keeping Mingi humble, his birth chart proves me otherwise lol. Super Strong Square Factory Squad rise up! #getmeoutofherepls

Anyways I LOVED your take on it, Mingi so interesting, his future love life keeps me more intrigued than a korean drama tbh, will this man find A HEALTHY RELATIONSHIP? damn. I think Yunho has certain tendencies as well?? Like there’s two escenarios: bro 1 tells bro 2 he should get out of that toxic relationship WHILE also being in a toxic relationship as well or bro 1 encourages bro 2 to keep fighting in that relationship because things would get better but it doesn’t or because both are lowkey into that type of love so they don’t see anything wrong with it

and with his mood affecting the room, I honestly think it’s pretty accurate! It’s like his whole body language really talked! When he feels awkward (relatable king) yk he does and when he feels relaxed yk he does and for some reason it’s like a loose knot if that make sense? Like it feels so refreshing to see him because he’s comfortable. Anyway bro’s keeping astrology enthusiasts like the discovers of the eighth wonder of the world

mingi is genuinely so fascinating and i keep thinking about like. well just now i'm thinking about jongho saying mingi would just give up and die in a zombie apocalypse which is so funny, i'm sure he'd reprise "no i'm a beast" if asked directly, but jongho read his chronic indecision down like... mingi!!! and before that the thing where the guy just fully was like, u have delusions of grandeur. bro!! like. ok, he does, but like, did you have to say it like that!!! god!!!

he really emanates vibes so hard it's incredible--his face is really transparent and expressive and i feel like i can sense the Vibe through the screen even? and when he's feeling comfy ur right it's so delightful.

i always wonder about if idols like... learn to train their expressions intensely enough for manufacturing fan service or whatever script they're supposed to play or whatever else but honestly i feel like at a certain point or level of subtlety shit cannot be faked that much. read into too much, absolutely, but most people are not great actors. also did kq even have that kind of money for that kind of training lol??? anyway i tend to think idols are more honest than some people assume, if only bc it's exhausting playing a role for so long and also fans don't respond well if they feel like their personalties aren't genuine. like they play a role, of course, but it's an exaggerated version of themselves/a part of themselves just like anyone does when they're in front of people and trying to be entertaining. lmao oops tangent 🙃

oh my god yunho absolutely has some of those toxic relationship tendencies potentially and like... in his chart he looks like he has really intense issues with power and control? like i think he might find those impulses scary in himself. his 6th house taurus venus opposes his 12th house scorpio mars--the scorpio-taurus opposition is already a lot about loyalty, owning, security, that kind of thing, and then you add venus and mars into that and it's like a tug of war between a chill sensible part of him (taurus venus in the 6th) and the extreme part of him (scorpio mars in the 12th). and his 12th house mars is conjunct his ascendant so that is some FUEL there. also venus is conjunct saturn, square neptune--saturn brings a ton of fear into the picture and also rigidity, neptune is like mmm ever met an illusion??? ur gonna love this wool i'm gonna pull over ur eyes let's just lie to urself ok?? add in juno conjunct pluto in his first house... girl there is absolutely a lot of dubious decision making potential here. i do not trust either of these boys to know what a healthy relationship is tbh!! don't lie to me with your big simple sensible eyes yunho i know what you are!! 🧐 and it is not sensible!!*

*i mean he is sensible with most things just not... relationships...

[neopastelpink]

Our billy by thebestcinamonbun28 on deviantart

Original description:

London, England 1959

"Just look at him playing with his bunny! So cute, so gentle, how could anyone think our Billy is a bully?" Lily asked her husband.

"They're just making up lies, slandering our boy to feel better about themsleves. They think we're too soft on him just because we don't spank him, they came up with this to blame the bruises they gave their children on our William. Just because he's bigger than the other children." Replied Frank.

"Some people just have nothing better to do than cause children pain, I don't understand them, after all we went through, after the war, why would you do that? I don't want him to go through anything even half as bad as what we went through during the war, do others not, Frank? I want to provide him with everything we didn't have at his age and more, I thought that was the point of having a child now in the modern era, loving it uncondictionaly."

"I don't understand them either, but that doesn't matter, no one can stop us from loving our son. We love him too much for that, how could we not, when he's so smart, strong and beautiful. The perfect little boy."

"And talented too, remember how he took apart that radio you bought him and then put it back together all by himself? Or those drawing he made, of the animals, be could be a cartoonist when he grows up with art like that!" She stated proudly.

"Cartoonist don't much money, Lily, besides he could be an engineer, or with how strong he is and how fast he's growing, a circus strongman!" He argued.

"Well, no matter what he chooses to be, I'm sure our baby has a bright future ahead of him." She said

"That's for sure. I'll just be happy to see him become a proper man one day, because I know we're raising him well." He agreed.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Heaven, 1985

"Why Billy, why?! Where did we go wrong-" Lily started sobbing, overwhelmed by what she was seeing.

"T-that can't be him, not our boy, he couldn't - he wouldn't - he-" Frank couldn't finish his sentence, unable to accept the truth.

Neither of them could accept the truth. The fact that the man they were looking down apon, the man covered in blood of the innocent, the man that had had killed four children that day alone and was still mutilating the fifth, ripping it's organs out with his bare hands and licking them clean afterwards, was their son.

Their son, who they loved so much that they never had another child, knowing that they'd never love anyone else as much as they loved him. Their son, who the refused to beat or spank as people usually did at the time. Their son, who they always defended and thought the best of, never believing he'd hurt anyone. This was their son, a murderer, a liar, a monster.

Here's one taking place in the past, a past of a character people care about, unlike the past in the upcoming game that I already hate. Just so people know not to expect anything regarding that game from me

But enough about that garbage, let's learn a bit more about William's parents in my AU.

Lillian Rosemary "Lily" Afton

Born 1925

Died 1975

She had a normal childhood, though her teen years were far from ideal because of WWII. Despite this she still found happiness in those times through her relationship with Frank. Her father and brother died in the war and as soon as she turned 18 she had to go work in a factory. She and Frank wrote each other letters until the end of the war, when they got married and moved to a peaceful part of London to live with Frank's father. She gave birth to their only son in 1950, as mentioned before, they loved him a lot. In 1963 they moved to America, she and Frank didn't like it there as much as their son did. In 1969 after their son's wedding they moved back to England, leaving their US house to him. In the 1970s she and Frank got increasingly ill and he died in 1975, she joined him only a few months later that same year. It was kind of an Afton family thing to die young, even before animatronics and child murder.

Francis Norman "Frank" Afton

Born 1925

Died 1975

His mother died giving birth to him, so his father, Jeffery Edward Afton, had to raise him alone. Being a single father was also kind of an Afton family thing. Frank was alone during his teens as Jeffery got drafted, so he spent most of his time with Lily. After he turned 18 he was drafted as well. He would always look forward to Lily's letter, they were that kept him going. After the war ended they got married and everything I wrote for Lily applies here. Jeffery died in 1964 at age 69, a bit older than most in the family but still not that old. He and Lily met Michael and Evan, but died before Elizabeth was born.

And even though he's not here there's something I came up with about William's grandfather Jeffery that I'd like to add here as well.

Jeffery was left at the doorstep of an orphanage in 1895, the year he was born. There was no note explaining why his family didn't want him or even a last name on him. He never got adopted, so when the became an adult he had no last name. He just had the first name Jeffery that he was given at the orphanage and the middle name Edward to distinguish him from other boys named Jeffery. He decided to make up a last name for himself, one he could use when enlisting in the army like he planned to do as WWI had just started. He came up with the last name Afton, he wasn't sure if he just made it up or if he had heard it somewhere but he liked how it sounded. So that's why these very english people have a not-very-english sounding last name. And why anyone trying to search the family's history wouldn't be able to trace it down any earlier than the late 19th century. Link to the original pic

[aparticularbandit]

Of A Fatal Captivity: Day Ten (IV)

Summary: When do they decide that she can’t leave? That they’re going to keep her there no matter what she wants? That’s the day her captivity begins. Is that today?

Some of you will think that this beginning is a gimmick. Up to you! Think what you want! (It’s not a gimmick more than anything else in writing is a gimmick, which is to say, of course, it’s a gimmick, because that’s all writing is, really, isn’t it? A bunch of gimmicks? Some of them more successful than others? Isn’t that why we have tropes? The trappings of a Tragedy to tell us whether that’s really what the story is or not? (Do you know the story you’re in?))

Enough games.

You’re here for something better than that.

Or: Junko Enoshima’s factory reset may or may not be going as planned, and Ryoko Otonashi has plenty of things to say about that. Or will, once she realizes what’s going on.

Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: M for Danganronpa reasons.

AO3

previous chapter | next chapter

Book One

Now.

Nagito doesn’t aim the gun.

Well.

That’s not entirely correct.

Nagito’s definitely pointing it in a general location.  Over that way.  But Junko told him not to aim and to instead let his luck take care of everything, and so that is precisely what he’s doing.  In fact, although most shooters would keep their eyes on their potential victim(s), his jade grey eyes are focused entirely on the being standing next to him.  “Your luck must be absolutely wonderful,” he murmurs, staring at Izuru and sizing him up, “if it doesn’t have the consequences mine does.”

Izuru doesn’t say anything.  He’s not much of a talker.  Junko told Nagito about that, too, and while he’d believed her, it’s still unfortunate.  This false Hope with all of those Talents combined within him must have some Talent of speech.  He’s just chosen not to use it.

What a waste.

Of course, even with their powers combined, something bad will happen here.  Something bad always happens when Nagito needs to use his luck.  Think of it as cause and effect: if something bad happens, then something good must follow.  For every act of despair, an act of hope.  That’s the usual order of it.

He wants something good to happen now.  So something bad has to happen first.

A sacrifice of sorts.

Nagito doesn’t aim the gun, and he keeps his eyes entirely focused on Izuru.

That’s the plan, after all.

~

Day Ten (of a Captive Infinity).

“M-M-Mitsuki?”

Mikan says her name, and it sounds like music.

Instinctively, Mitsuki glances towards Kyoko, hoping to hear her say it as well, but there’s no one there to be seen.  Her heart falls.

(This wasn’t supposed to happen.  She was not supposed to be in love with either of them.  That wasn’t part of the plan.  But Mikan woke her heart just enough to catch them both.  That could make things awkward in the future.

But she can’t think about that right now.)

“Yes,” Mitsuki says finally, clenching and unclenching her fingers.  “That’s the name my mother – Mukuro’s mother – gave me.  It should always have been mine, and now, it is.”

Speaking like that feels a little too formal.

A little too much like him.

(They thought they trained that into him, but really, he got it from her.)

“M-M-Matsuda?”

Mitsuki ignores this.  She glances at her still bright red painted nails.  Claws.  Bear claws.  That’s what Junko called them.  There are a lot of things Junko did – and a lot of things Ryoko did – that she’s not sure she’ll keep any longer.  Her eyes are still red, which she can fix later.  Or now.  She glances up and meets Mikan’s eyes.  “Can I have my contacts?”

Mikan’s bruise-colored eyes widen in astonishment.  “Y-y-your contacts?  I…I don’t have those—”

“Mikan.”  Mitsuki meets her eyes with a disapproving look.  “Didn’t I tell you?  There’s nothing you can do that will disappoint or anger me.”  She holds her palm out. “So if you would, please.”

Still too formal.

Something’s….

Not wrong, but off.

She’s still trying to find herself again.  It’s been a while – a long while – since she’s been fully herself, and the last time she didn’t have years of Junko to deal with, only the beginnings of her and the knowledge of what she would do in the future.  But knowing something and acting on it aren’t the same.  Her hands are stained with blood now.  That will change things.

This time, Mikan doesn’t hesitate.  Her gaze falls away from Mitsuki’s, avoiding her disapproving stare, and she scrambles through her pockets before pulling a contact case out of one of them.  She opens it, sighs with relief, and then holds it out.  “They’re…they’re going to be dry—”

But Mitsuki takes both contacts and puts them in her eyes immediately.  It stings – it hurts – but it’s not so bad when she compares them to everything else she’s dealt with throughout her entire life.  Sure, some of that she caused, but that’s not the point.  She blinks a few times.  More than a few times.  “Fuck.  Shit.”

“I-I-I told you not to—”

Mitsuki squeezes her eyes tight shut, and with them closed says, “I can’t with the bloody red eyes.  They’re too fucking much like him.”  (Mikan won’t understand that.  She’s never shared that with her.  She doesn’t like sharing it with—)

“W-w-who?”

“No one.”  Mitsuki opens her eyes and looks up at the bloody red sky.  She can’t do anything about that now.  Then she takes a deep breath.  “You think it’s going to rain?  I think it’s going to rain.”  She glances back to Mikan, tilts her head to one side, and offers her a soft smile.  “May I?”

Mikan’s eyes widen.  “M-m-may you…may you wh-wh-what?”

Huh.  That’s odd.  Normally Miki says yes.

“Hold your hand.”

“U-u-um!”  Mikan flushes a bright, bright red.  She tucks short strands of her hair back behind one ear and nods a few times before saying, just as soft, “Y-y-yes, p-p-please.”

Mitsuki snakes her hand into Mikan’s and gives it a gentle squeeze.  “Don’t worry,” she murmurs.  “I’m still me.”  She pauses.  “Mostly.”  Then she hears a soft, muffled sneeze behind her and sees the flash of something silvery black out of the corner of her eye.

It’s starting.

“Sorry, Miki.”

Mitsuki tugs Mikan down – out of the way – just as the first gunshot is fired.

Mikan trips.

(Mitsuki holds her hand as she falls.  This way, Mikan won’t get caught in old habits.  No matter how hard they die, they can come up at the worst moments, and if her time as Ryoko told her anything, it’s that this particular habit hasn’t died at all.  So she holds Mikan’s hand.  She doesn’t let her fall.

Not the way she wants, anyway.)

There’s a split second where Mikan cries out.

In that split second, two things happen: Genocide Jack sprints towards Mitsuki with her scissors out, slicing at her neck, and the first bullet from Nagito’s gun hits Jack’s scissors and shatters them.

That alone will not stop Jack.  Mitsuki knows this, too; she remembers it from her time as Junko: Jack carries multiple pairs of scissors on her body.  While Jack pulls a third pair of scissors out to complete her dual wielding, Mitsuki shoves her back, away from Mikan.

The Talent of Ultimate Analysis doesn’t need to be switched on to function; it just needs a dataset.  Mitsuki’s data on Jack is incomplete at best, but she pulls from what she remembers – flickers of things, of seeing her feign attacking other people, of living through an equally feigned attack on herself when she was Junko, of her attack on Kyoko when that didn’t get what she wanted (except that Kyoko would always be the target – that was the point – Byakuya needed the code, and he needed Kyoko hurt and Junko desperate to hide her so that he could get it.  She’d known that, too, and played along willingly).  With these in mind, she constructs what she can of Jack’s fighting style.

Jack is similar to Junko – and herself – to an extent.  Noodle arms.  No strength.  Relies entirely on her scissors to do her work for her.  (And she’s pretty much indestructible, which means a misstep in her plan led to a fatality that wasn’t meant to be there.  It doesn’t impact the plan itself too terribly, it just sucks.)

But Jack will tire out easily.

Normally, Junko would have a bit of lean muscle to her, but she’d lost too much weight during the Game – barely eating, not keeping up with the exercises Mukie told her to do, and getting sick on more than one occasion when things were too gory for the bit of Ryoko still hidden within her.  And Ryoko, bless her, hadn’t remembered anything about exercises or keeping fit or any of that.  Not that any of her Horrors had reminded her – and even if they had, Mikan probably would have considered her too sick to do it.  So that’s gone.  She’ll probably tire out just as easily – if not more so – than Jack.

Which means all of this needs to end quickly.

Good thing that it will.

There’s a second gunshot – Nagito, again – and it seems like this one misses, except that it doesn’t.  It can’t miss.  That’s what his luck means.  So when that second bullet hits the ground beyond her, Mitsuki keeps an eye on it, and she notices the flicker of something else.

A white lab coat.

And she smiles.

Grins.

Beams.

(That’s Junko, coming out.  She’s both, and she’s neither, and she grins when she fights because things are going according to plan, and it was all her plan in the first place, Junko and Ryoko both, she’d needed Junko split to take care of the game, and she’d needed Ryoko’s recovery to get her heart jumpstarted, and now she’s fully herself again, but it’s going to take a bit to find who she is now, after so much time with Junko.  She’s always been both; that will just look differently now.  As expected.  It’s not like all the blood and murder is finished yet.)

This time, when Jack reaches out with her scissors, Mitsuki dodges, grabs Jack’s arm, and then pulls her against her.  “You missed something, Jackie,” she whispers in her ear as Jack struggles to break through her hold.

“Yeah?”  Jack twitches one of her arms just enough to nick Mitsuki’s shoulder with one of her scissors.  “What’s that?”

Mitsuki kicks the forgotten needle up from the ground, catches its tube between her teeth, and drives its sharp point into Jack’s neck.  “I don’t forget anything.”

(This is a lie.  She’s forgotten quite a lot, actually, and it doesn’t matter that she’s whole again, her memories still aren’t all here.  That was to be expected.  As long as she remembers enough of the plan to know what she needs to do next.)

Jack drops.

One part done.

Mitsuki breathes heavy.  She doesn’t even check her shoulder, doesn’t need to, but instead looks around her for something strong and metallic.  Kyoko read the notebooks.  She should have left—

There.

Yukizome-sensei better fucking know where she’s going, and she better get there fucking fast.  It’s going to take all of them together to get him down, and it’s going to take luck just as much as it takes skill, and really, they’re going to have to overwhelm him.

He knows – she knows that he knows – that she will have something in mind for him.  He has to know that.

If Junko’s gone, then Izuru needs to be gone, too.

“M-M-Mitsuki—”

Mikan reaches for her.

“Mikan, stay down!”

~

Now.

He can’t really hide the glove when he wears it.

That’s the point.

So when Nagito shoots the third shot without looking, he knows that Izuru will see the hit of his glove coming just the same as he did the first time.  That’s okay.

Junko scripted this.

Nagito shoots his third shot, turns with the metallic glove on, and twists to hit Izuru, who dodges, as expected.

The third shot ricochets off of whatever it is that Junko – and it has to be Junko, it certainly isn’t Ryoko anymore, and there’s no way of knowing if they brought forth Mitsuki since he’s never met her (except that he knows that it’s her because he trusts in his luck, and he has paid dearly for this lightest of hopes to emerge) – found lying on the ground.  The bullet hurtles back up towards them.  It’s only his luck that it maintains its speed and angles it directly at Izuru, who dodges again.

He doesn’t hear the muffled sniper shot, but Nagito knows that it’s coming, and he feels it piercing through his shoulder on its way to Izuru, who twists out of its way.  But in his twisting, Izuru doesn’t account for the appearance of Chisa Yukizome, Nagito’s old sensei, who comes out of nowhere and smacks him over the head with a notebook.

Izuru shouldn’t fall.

It wasn’t that hard of a hit, and it’s a notebook, for crying out loud, and Izuru has so much more luck than Nagito ever did.

But it’s bad luck that Nagito got hit with that bullet, and the pain makes him trip, and when he trips, he reaches his gloved hand out to steady himself, and instead of hitting the ground, he hits Izuru on his way down.

And all at once, Izuru yells.

It’s the loudest, most painful sound Nagito has ever heard, and he’s sure he’ll never hear anything like it again.

Then Izuru curls up into a ball – into the fetal position – and holds his head between his hands.

See, the thing about luck?

It can run out.

~

Day Ten (of a Captive Infinity).

Mitsuki hears that primal yell and relaxes.

Good.

It worked.

Mikan hasn’t moved from her last spot.  She’s curled up, staying down as ordered, but she looks up at Mitsuki with wide eyes as she approaches her.  “Wh…what just…what’s—”

Mitsuki holds a hand out to her with a soft smile.  “I think that means you’ve got a new patient, Miki.”  She gives Mikan’s hand a squeeze as she pulls her up, pulls her towards her, and wraps her arms around her, twirling with her.  “I think…I think we’re gonna win.”  Thunder rumbles overhead, and she pulls away just enough to lean towards her conspiratorially without touching her.  “May I?”

Mikan searches her blue-grey eyes, confused and uncertain, but somehow still certain all at the same time.  (Mitsuki knows her answer before she even says it.  That moment earlier – that was different.  Miki trusts her now.)  Then she nods, leans up on her tiptoes, and brushes her nose against Mitsuki’s.  “Please.”

When Mitsuki kisses her, it feels like everything is finally right with the world.

(The rain burns where it touches her skin.  Someone should fix that.)

((Later.))

[coulsons-fullmetal-cellist]

A Surefly Way

(Dieter x horror loving female)

Words: 716

Summary: watching an old film of Dieter’s has unexpected results (the fake film part was based on a dream)

Warnings: minor historical inaccuracies, a child cries but it’s all happy adorable fluffy goodness at the end, Dieter being Dieter

Check out masterlist here

“This corn?” Clara asked holding a can out to you.

“Yes, that’s corn.”

“Corn yummy!”

You and Clara had just returned from some errands. She enjoyed helping unpack groceries and you explained the contents as she passed them to you. Having finished with that task, you turned on the TV and left Clara in the living room to play and you set about making dinner.

“Look! Daddy!” Clara pointed excitedly at the TV.

There on the screen was your husband looking rather dapper in a pinstripe suit. You bundled that image away for later use.

“It’s a daddy story,” that was what you ended up calling films featuring your husband.

This particular one was before the two of you met. Surefly Way was set during the Second World War and supposedly about two chocolate factories. The history was dubious at best but at the heart of it was a love story so the inaccuracies could be forgiven.

Clara enjoyed watching any films with her father but never watched many of them as he hated watching himself on screen. This one was age appropriate, so you left her to it. You heard occasional dialogue and made a guess to the plot.

Miss Winslow, daughter of Mr. Winslow, owner of Winslow Chocolates is pretending to be an ordinary factory worker making ration bars for frontline troops. Unknowingly, her American fiancée, Mr. Surefly of Surefly Chocolates, arrives to help in the making of the chocolate. Having no idea what his future intended looks like, he ends up falling in love with her and she in return.

~

“Mr. Surefly is here in England? Shouldn’t he be back home in America?”

“He feels that he’d do better for the troops here. Isn’t this a good chance to meet your fiancé?”

“I’d rather not.”

“Dotty, why?”

“Because I want to fall in love. Not be sold off and shipped off to the highest bidder!”

~

“Americans? What do Americans know about chocolate?”

“Their stuff only tastes slightly better than a boiled potato.”

~

“So Mr. Surefly, is there a sweetheart waiting for you back home?”

“I do have a fiancée, but I’ve yet to meet her.”

“How have you not met the woman you’re going to marry?”

“Let’s say it’s more of a business exchange rather than an act of love.”

~

“You were pretending this whole time? Why?”

“How can I sit here doing nothing while everyone else is off fighting the war? Even the royal family are going their part.”

~

You heard the sounds of the front door as Dieter arrived back home. Clara seemed too intrigued with on-screen father to notice her actual father, so he made his way over to you.

“Clara is watching one of your films.”

“It better not be Cliff Beasts.”

“No, it’s Surefly Way,” confusion crossed his face. “World War Two? Two chocolate factories?”

He vaguely remembered filming something in that time period, so he wandered over to watch it with his daughter.

As he got closer, he saw that Clara was in tears.

“What’s wrong cupcake?”

“Daddy kiss lady,” she pointed at the screen.

It took a minute for Dieter to remember back to who was in the film with him, mainly his on-screen romantic partner. “Yes, I did kiss that lady.”

“Not mummy,” more tears ran down her cheeks and it took less than a minute for Dieter to decipher the toddler code.

“Oh, cupcake,” he pulled her close. “That was mummy I was kissing. She swapped out with that lady.”

You had just walked into the room, so Dieter turned to you.

“That was you I was kissing, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “They always swap me out if there’s kissing.”

Clara wiped her face, “You love mummy?”

“Yes, I love mummy so much and she’s the only lady I kiss. But you get kisses too because you’re my sweet baby girl.”

He kissed her cheek, his beard tickling her turning her sobs into giggles.

Later on, she went to bed happy knowing that her parents still loved each other, sometimes a bit too much.

“Nice save.”

“I learned from the best,” he kissed your cheek.

“So when is she going to learn the truth about it?”

“Oh, when she’s older. Like, fifty.”

“We’ll definitely be dead by then.”

“Well then, she’ll never know.”

Lovingly tagging @boliv-jenta @simpingcowboy @ellenmunn @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @chaithetics @myloveistoolittle @cevans-is-classic @glshmbl @cupcakehp @wannab-urs

[chocolate-milk-fanfics]

Runaway Bride spoilers

Ok so I’m planning my next chapters for runaway bride right? (spoilers)

For context I’m a neurodivergent college student and when I get distracted during class I either space out, draw or write stuff. One day during class I was spacing and wrote future chapters for RNB and just look at this...

“I choked her and then unloaded a clip into her. through her body and one of the factories and set it on fire after removing the bullets.” Tommy said with little to no emotion as he recalled the memory of killing his mistress. breathing became hard as you listen to his confession. why? why was he telling you this? Grace was unrelated to you, just another woman in love with the wrong man.” I won't cheat again. I'm sorry.” Tommy said suddenly, as if he didn't just admit to murder.” I love you. and I won't let you go; not again not ever.”

“ I don't love you. not anymore.” you said in a soft voice “ I won't go with you. I'm happy here and you have a son of your own now.”

“ that can change.” Tommy said as if it was nothing and your heart broke. how can the man you love not only cheat on you and then kill his mistress but is now is offering to kill his bastard child? was Tommy always this type of person or did you just choose not to see all of his red flags? “ I'll kill whoever I need to to get you back son or no son. boyfriend or no boyfriend.”

Bro what was I on??? The way I gasped when I read this...

Taglist:

@mysticalfairytales @iwanttohitmyself @exo-kai15 @iikximii @dang-shawty-okay @warrior-of-justice

[manuscripts-dontburn]

The Silence Factory

Author: Bridget Collins

First published: 2024

Rating: ★★★☆☆

What a stunning cover! While The Silence Factory is not AS good and enchanting as Collins´ previous two books, it is still a pretty solid Gothic historical fiction. It is not, though, a magical realism book, which I imagine lets some people down, because it was advertised as one. I also admit I expected the story to be a little more twisty and bendy because it is quite straightforward and the atmosphere and the plot had strength to hold...well...more.

Franklin's Flying Bookshop

Author: Jen Campbell

First published: 2017

Rating:  ★★★★☆

I was happy to find this book at a school fair and immediately snatched it for a baby girl in our family. Of course, first, I had to read it myself! It is a sweet, short story about the love of stories and books and how that love can bring people closer. I read the Czech translation and I imagine some of the verses were smoother in English. The illustrations are extremely cute, generously large and colourful.

Company of Liars

Author: Karen Maitland

First published: 2008

Rating: ★★★☆☆

Not great, not terrible. Or rather: it kept me entertained well enough throughout the whole thing and sometimes that is all you need from a book.

The Lights of Prague

Author: Nicole Jarvis

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

I reached for this book mostly because I am always curious about how foreigners present my country. As a debut, this is not bad. You can really tell there is talent in the use of language, creating the atmosphere. Where it limps quite badly is the depth of the characters, their gradual development and especially the relationships. Some of the names and words chosen (never ever have I heard anyone call a vampire "pijavice" - literally a leech) sounded strange to a Czech, but I have seen and read so much worse before that I waved this away. The plot was very straightforward and the ending bored me, unfortunately.

My Salty Mary

Author: Cynthia Hand, Brodi Ashton, Jodi Meadows

First published: 2024

Rating: ★★★★☆

After the last instalment that was really just "mid", My Salty Mary returns with the easy wit, fluffy characters and some really funny (really well-timed) jokes. Perfect if you want to clear your head.

Gaza: An Inquest into Its Martyrdom

Author: Norman Finkelstein

First published: 2018

Rating: ★★★★★

An extremely important book, now more than ever. Norman Finkelstein simply slaps you in the face with fact after fact, there is nothing sentimental or pleading here, just bare and naked reality, meticulously backed by sources. Finkelstein focuses on the Israeli violence against the people of Gaza between the years 2002 and 2014, and you can see that everything that is being used by Israeli (And US) propaganda has already been used multiple times and, just like today, with no evidence to back it up. Most importantly it is clear now that every operation undertaken in the past twenty years has only been a dress rehearsal for the currently ongoing genocide of the Palestinians AND the attacks against Lebanon. Every page of this book made me feel sheer fury. Mostly because when you read it now you already know that the worst is yet to come for the Palestinian people.

The Lady and the Unicorn

Author: Tracy Chevalier

First published: 2004

Rating: ★★★★☆

Though at first I disliked pretty much all of the characters and did not understand the point of the story, it eventually grew on me to the point where I was looking forward to spending time within the pages of this book. You get to see the souls of the characters and love at least one (Ailienor, though I may have spelled that wrong), you learn something about the making of tapestries (which was surprisingly interesting) and see how our lives resemble tapestries with many threads that get pulled, with parts that need to be re-done and the fact that when we are gone, our meanings and intentions may not be clearly interpreted by the future. If the future should ever notice us at all. That all probably sounds terribly complicated, but that is the feeling I am leaving with.

The Shape of Darkness

Author: Laura Purcell

First published: 2021

Rating:  ★★★★★

The book has a slow start but when it grabs you, it is really difficult to put it down. Laura Purcell is brilliant in walking the tight rope between the supernatural and the real. Just when you think you have it all figured out, she is able to throw something at you that again makes you doubt your conclusions. She is also very skilful in creating a dark, Gothic atmosphere. Last but not least I appreciate her ability to tell the background story in pieces and insinuations rather than laying it all out for you at once. So yeah, this was good.

Eighteen: A History of Britain in 18 Young Lives

Author: Alice Loxton

First published: 2024

Rating: ★★★★☆

A wonderful non-fiction book for a young reader. By creating short and very readable cameos of actual historical figures, Alice Loxton had offered an entertaining yet educational and even inspirational album of fascinating live stories. And thought focused on the young, it can be enjoyed by the old as well :D

Songbirds

Author: Christy Lefteri

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★★★☆

I really, really like Christy Lefteri´s writing style. Much like her previous book, Songbirds is more of an exploration of souls and relationships than a thrilling adventure. Indeed the plot is very simple: a domestic worker goes missing and those around her are left to both try to look for her as well as to realize who exactly the woman was and what are their own lives without her presence in it. There are also musings on motherhood and what we are willing to do to better our existence, as well as commentary on social hierarchy and prevalent racism many migrants keep experiencing. I wished for a little more mystery when it came to Nisha´s disappearance, but perhaps the sad banality of it was necessary as a reminder of reality.

Wild: Tales from Early Medieval Britain

Author: Amy Jeffs

First published: 2022

Rating:  ★★★★★

This was such a curious book. Part mythology/legend retelling, part memoir and non-fiction to explain context and details, and if you listen to it on audio, also quite a banging folk music album. Gorgeously written, no matter which kind of genre it chooses to be at a given moment, I was surprised by how rich it felt, considering this is quite a thin volume.

A Dowry of Blood

Author: S.T. Gibson

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★☆☆☆

I´m not mad about this book, just kind of... disappointed. Great idea with some pretty good writing, but I felt that the characters never evolved, staying the same no matter how many centuries they have gone through. They also never seemed to be doing anything interesting besides a bisexual woohoo a few times. And I felt that the possibility of showing the immortals reacting to the ever-changing world around them was not explored at all, though that is one of my favourite things about vampires. Furthermore, these vampires felt altogether too human.

Garlic and the Vampire

Author: Bree Paulsen

First published: 2021

Rating: ★★★★★

I needed something soft and sweet and uncomplicated to close off October. This was a perfect pick for me. Also, I always knew celery was the lesser vegetable.

[jasminegazer]

Chapter 7 Part 1

Ever since she was young, Karai knew what the real world was like.

She knew that no matter how many good things you do or how many people you save, the world will continue to be cruel. Age, gender, or race had nothing to do with it. The world was just cruel.

So she didn’t care about how extreme the Shredders training was. She didn’t care that they used living targets for physical exams. She didn’t care about lying to her sister about how much the bruises and scars on her body stung.

Karai knew it just didn’t matter. She knew she was selfish for lying towards someone who had been outright charitable to her, a completely strange and new girl.

So that’s why she let April get close to her. Out of greed and selfish longing. While Karai spied on Aprils closest friends and organized their abduction, the hidden warrior was leading her down a rabbit hole of lies and false emotion. There was nothing more to her actions than just creating an alibi. Right?

Then why did she openly feel things around April about the things she wouldn’t around anyone else. Except Jennika of course. Karai didn’t have a crush on her that’s for sure(it was painfully obvious that the blue turtle already covered that job). But some kind of bond was made between the red headed news girl and the silent ‘badass’(as April occasionally teased her as). That kind of trust and light heartedness was definitely like what she had with her sister.

In some ways the two were very similar. They both were very open about their emotions and passions. A gift to express opinion that Karai can only barely remember. But April probably didn’t know how to play rock songs off the top of her head or who Lita Ford was(a common topic her sister talked about when they had free time to imagine what future they may have after their father completed his plans). And Jennika probably had no clue how to write a newspaper or how to connect the dots to a giant undercover plot based on notes and a few pictures on a messy old school board.

“That’s actually kinda cool.” She had once said when April was showing some of her work.

A buzz from her phone broke Karai out of her trance as she hung on one of the pipes of a rooftop water tower above what appeared to be an abandoned factory. April had texted her saying: COME NOW BIG BREAK!!! The brisk night air and the blare of city lights begged her to stay for longer and enjoy the sight. It was the first time she had seen anything like it. Wait until I tell Jennika about this. But she had to go now if she was gonna help with the last few of the turtles. Which means back to oppressive training and no more actually getting to go out without fear of getting caught. So she wasn’t gonna miss out on her last chance to enjoy that little freedom.

Karai hooped down from the roof into a back alley before continuing to her and Aprils hangout spot on the sidewalk.

Normal cities were strange. They were much different than what she had been taught by her mentors. They were indeed chaotic but not with violence and gore decorated streets. They had a certain rhythm and style that left you in awe by the appeal. Jennika always said those old cronies were wrong. Now Karai could believe that.

Besides it’s not the rest of humanity that’s the problem it’s the mutants right? It’s not their fault that they had been tricked and manipulated. Right?

But something was strange about the mutants(other than their appearance obviously)that stuck to Karai.

They

Acted as if they were

Normal kids

Like April and Jennika. They could be cringy and emotional and sometimes even funny. They portrayed what seemed to be personalities and feelings? The thought of seeing the orange one, Mikey as they called him, in pain made Karai uncomfortable and squirm with sheer pity for hi-

NO no no. Stop. Stop that right now. Remember your training. They’re just trying to trick you. Their pitiful pain-filled heart aching faces are just an act. It’s not real. Besides even if it is-which it isn’t-it’s nothing compared to what they have done to your family. What they have done to you.

Karai huffed as she pushed those thoughts aside and walked briskly up the steps of Eastman High. Strange. Her senses seemed more heightened than usual. The smell of sweat and pen ink grew stronger than their usual stench. She was about to reach for the door until she looked down at her arm. Scales.

Kuso! Okay! Okay okay okay! Don’t panic! Remember your teachings . . . again.

Rushing to keep It at bay, Karai rushed for her bag and pulled out her elixir. Within seconds she had downed the drink and her scales slowly sunk back under her skin. Vanishing into no where. Where It belonged instead of inside of her body.

Echoes from her past rushed through her body. Her breathing was still in sharp panicked huffs and only grew shakier with the pain of her past. Noticing this Karai gripped the back of her neck and bent her head back. She attempted her breathing exercises as the fangs in her mouth shrunk away and her tongue no longer lingered of the surrounding smells.

Ochitsuke Karai. Just breath.

Finally shaking the last of It away, Karai opened the door to the school and finished her journey. By the time she made it to April’s “news room”, she took one final breath before opening the door.

Just Breathe. She doesn’t need to know. No one does.

And no one will.

Previous Masterpost Next

Hope y’all like this chapter. It’s not as progressive in the story than usual but at least you get a peak inside Karai’s mind. Since this wasn’t as progressive as usual I decided to leave a little Easter egg from The Strength in Weakness by @truths33k3r4 a personal favorite content creator of mine(hope you don’t mind that I did this). Sorry for not posting this sooner but it was kinda rough juggling that and art and school and family and- just everything. So I hope you like it.

Cowabunga turtle fanz!

[the-sky-is-my-home]

Pokémon Legends ZA Theories/Hopes

we got like. nothing from the trailer so.

most common thought seems to be future kalos - which would absolutely be cool to see, but would make it difficult to incorporate the legends gameplay - the pokeball has been invented and kalos mass produces them in a factory. they achieved peaceful cohabitation with pokemon by the time XY happen. so a future where things went wrong and a child from the past is sent to fix it?

alternatively, it could be about building up lumiose to what we see in XY, so still set in the past. perhaps you're testing out the new "pokeball" product for the factory before they sell it, while helping to build the city

considering the launch date, I assume it'll be a cross gen consoles release, so switch and switch 2, and it'll be a launch game. fingers crossed it'll look good and run smoothly at least on switch 2. it better, if nintendo plans to sell their system with it. since we got botw2 in totk relatively recently, they can't use that like they did for the switch. still hoping for oddyssey2/some other big 3d mario as well but if pokemon gets better from a lack of other titles I won't complain

the one thing we have confirmed is megas are back, so get your bets in now what pokemon will get new megas!

I'm still hoping for flygon just because!

also grass/fire mega sunflora gamefreak I dare you make that pokemon viable!!! (not that sunflora is even in kalos iirc but shhhhh)

maybe some kalos pokemon will get megas! ig diancie did but that's a mythical. mega kalos starters? or will we get other starters again and they'll get megas?

I'm hoping for chikorita - it needs the love and we all want mega meganium I know we do. for the name if nothing else. also to make chikorita a viable starter in any game it's in like please. the pretty flower part fits with kalos' theme of beauty too! tho I could also see them go with snivy, serperior would fit the kalos vibe too

then piplup - it's a shame (if logical with it being a starter) that emperor penguin napoleon empoleon is not in the game set in france and we need to rectify that now that we have the chance! if not piplup, maybe popplio? a fairy type starter would be a good fit for kalos imo

fire is the hardest... fuecoco maybe? would be based if it got a mega, maybe leaning more into the singer aspect? but then we just had fuecoco as a starter... scorbunny ig? that was popular but it did have a gigantamax... charmander would fit imo but that has two megas and was essentially a bonus kalos starter... litten and tepig are options but neither fits kalos that well, esp their evolutions. so I don't have a good guess for the fire starter ^^;

anyway!! gogoat real ride pokemon everywhere this time! megas for aurorus and tyrantrum! mega talonflame! dragon type eeveelution to go with sylveon we should've gotten that the first time! regional lapras for surfing! hot sycamore relative! shiny sound/sparkles in the overworld again! a challenging endboss! if I wish for enough things one of them has to come true!