#if i was stuck inside and scared i would just fly up to the ceiling

[carlyraejepsans]

Had a nightmare about Undertale in the public domain. Default indie horror game, I wanna say ban ban level quality but I don't actually know how bad/good that game is as I've never seen any of it at all. Chara & Sans roamed the game and I was in a rich kids kindergarten with 2 giant panes of glass for a wall and the ceiling, other walls normal with doors and stuff. Late at night, orange streetlight lighting. Tried as hard as I could to clip out of the room by climbing into the ceiling glass pane from inside the classroom where it meets the other glass wall. Kept starting the mantling animation but would just get shoved back into the room, Evil Sans was walking around but his AI had already broken so badly I felt completely safe. Eventually the ceiling launched me down so hard my character sat in a children's chair. Sam's then spotted me and locked the camera to track his head as the cutscene of him running at me started locking me in place. The game was so badly made he just started pushing the chair I was sitting in. Very default running animation, holding a knife for some reason. Chair got stuck in a wall and he just kept running in place. None of this scared me. Eventually I built up enough speed to get sent flying into orbit, but it affected the "real" me which scared me awake at 4:20am.

↑ live gameplay footage

[waywardangel-wilds]

prompt by @triassictriserratops

Modern AU. Katniss and Peeta are best friends. She keeps sabotaging his relationships and he's finally fed up and confronts her about it.

[I'm sorry, I made it hilarious]

"Prim! Ew!" I pushed her away, falling backward on my bed as she shoved her phone in my face.

"Look!" Prim yanked on my hands, which I used to guard my eyeballs from her phone. "Oh my God. You are such a baby!"

"I don't want to see a cadaver! I don't care if it's for science! It's gross!" I shoved her away and rushed for the other side of the bed, throwing myself off it.

"Oh, I'm Katniss, and I love to be a scared little baby." She mocked in a breathy voice. "Look at me!"

"You're literally such a nerd you can't even bully me correctly."

"I-"

"What the fuck Katniss?!" We both jumped, hearing the front door slam open. Peeta's irritated face appeared at my doorway. "What in the-- oh hey, Prim."

Prim stared at him with her mouth open. Hanging upside down from my bed like that she looked twelve years old again. She glanced towards me with an alarmed expression.

"What right do you think you have to come in here like that?" Prim flipped herself right side up, pushing up against the mattress to sit up and glare at him.

"Uh-" Peeta looked sheepish. "Yeah, my bad."

"Your bad?!" Prim jumped off the bed. "'Your bad'? Fuck off!" She shoved him out of my doorway. "Apologize!"

"I-" Peeta's mouth opened and closed for a moment. He turned to glare at me, "No! Ask your sister what she did!"

"Um," I tried to speak up, but Prim waved me off.

"She did nothing; you're the one who came in here like a Neanderthal. Apologize!" She insisted.

"What? No!" Peeta tried to shoulder past her, but she pushed him back. He leaned against the hallway with a groan.

"Prim, you don't even live here. Go away." He said to the ceiling.

"How-"

"It's fine. Can I just talk to him? Alone?" I interrupted.

Prim looked into my eyes, picking up that I would be fine. She turned back to Peeta. "I'm going to be in the kitchen." She walked off.

"Bye!" Peeta said sarcastically. Under his breath, he added, "Little twerp."

"I heard that!" Prim shouted back. Peeta ducked out of the way of a flying object. "Ass!"

He stuck out his tongue at her. Turning my way, his face shifted from annoyed-at-Prim to actual anger.

"So..." I picked up a book from my nightstand. "You heard."

"I heard? Oh, man, did I!" He crossed his arms, looking incredulous. "Katniss, this got back to my mother. My dad called to ask me to go with them to church. Are you fucking kidding me?!"

I cringed, holding the book close to my chest. Peeta crossed the doorway into my room and shut the door behind him.

"I can't believe you would do this to me!" He was just getting started. I could tell he was highly wound up. An all-out rant was on the way. "Did I do something to you? Was I too nice to you? Did I feed you too much? Was it wrong of me to help you pass your driving test?"

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. Ouch.

"'Cause I've been wracking my brain for, like, I don't know, the past three hours trying to figure out why my best friend would throw me under the fucking bus!" The arms were above his head, oh man. "I'm in a sex cult?! Really? A doomsday sex cult. Do you have any idea how my parents are taking this? My mom was sobbing, sobbing. I don't think she's cried since 2008. My dad was saying that if I wanted to be gay, it was fine! But I didn't have to be in a cult to do it?! You told them I was in a gay doomsday sex cult?!"

"Yeah..."

"And, come to find out, it's not just my catholic parents who know this. My brothers," he started to list people off on his fingers. "My teammates, my coach, my girlfriend, Haymitch fucking Abernathy, for Christ's sake. I should thank my lucky stars that my Gammy doesn't know, she'd drop dead!"

If it was possible to cringe harder, I would do it right then.

"Are you going to say anything?" his voice got quiet. He stared at me with wide, unbelieving blue eyes. As if he were seeing me for the first time, and whatever he saw, it was freaking him out. "You just torpedoed my whole fucking life. Do you get that?!"

The book fell from my hands, and to make matters worse, I started to cry.

"I didn't mean for it to get this far!" I sobbed, my hands fluttering about my face. "I didn't even mean to say it! And then Glimmer told everyone. I just wanted her to go away!"

"What." He blinked at me. He looked crazed. "What. The. Fuck. WHAT THE FUCK! What are you saying?!"

"I was just trying to make it stop," I hiccuped, choking on some deeply intense sobs. "I never wanted to start a rumor. I swear it on my life, Peeta. I would never do that to you!"

Peeta stepped up to me the way someone would a live mine. He put his hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes. He still looked insane. "I." he cleared his throat. "I could kill you, I fucking swear it, Katniss. What in the world possessed you to tell people I was in a gay doomsday cult?!"

I wailed guiltily as Peeta lightly shook me. "I don't know!"

"Tell me!"

"I don't know!" I insisted, covering my face. "All I did was tell Christie you were in a cult so she wouldn't go out with you! Johanna added the gay part! I guess someone else said it was a suicide one. I swear! I'll swear it on Prim's life. Oh! Let's do a blood pact!" Peeta stared at me as if I lost my mind while I grabbed him by the shoulders to shake him back. "Yes! It'll be like being kids again! I have a knife!"

"I'm not doing a blood pact with you!" He stepped away from me as if repelled by some deep, intense force. "You're fucking tainted! Traitor! Judas!"

"I'm not Judas!" I sobbed.

"Judas!" he pointed at me.

"Peeta, come on, please!" I wiped a hand against my eyes. "It was an accident, I swear."

"Why did you say I was in a cult at all??"

"It doesn't even matter!" I bellowed miserably, turning to collapse face down on my bed. "Christie went out with you anyway."

"What does Christie have to do with anything???"

"You're supposed to be my best friend," I accused, pointing a shaking finger blindly. "Not Christie's."

"What?" I felt the bed dip. "Katniss, why are you doing this?"

"I don't want you to have a girlfriend," I moaned. I was so pathetic. "You're going to fall in love and leave me forever."

"Why would me getting a girlfriend stop us from being friends?"

"Don't you get it?" I sat up to stare at him. "I don't want you to have a girlfriend."

"Why?" He said insistently.

"BECAUSE I WANT TO BE YOUR GIRLFRIEND!" I screamed. I put both my hands on his chest and shoved him. "Why are you so dense?"

Peeta stared at me, shocked. He was half on the floor and half on my bed. "You want to be my girlfriend?"

"Yes!" I pulled on my hair. "Isn't it obvious? I moved with you to butt fuck nowhere so we could go to college together."

"I thought you just wanted to save on rent!"

"WHY?!" I tossed a pillow at him. "I could have just stayed with my dad back home."

"Oh."

"Yeah," I looked away, smoothing a hand over my messed-up hair.

"Well, you could have just said that instead of ruining my entire life." Peeta climbed back onto the bed. "I thought you knew I liked you."

"WHAT"

"What do you mean what?!"

"Exactly what I mean!"

"Oh my god," Prim rolled her eyes from the kitchen and took a long drink from her glass. "They're idiots."

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Afterlife Lessons

Masterlist

Chapter Fifteen/Epilogue:

“Hey, Tuck,” Sam said.  “Hand me that butter knife, would you?”

In response, Tucker dropped the knife from where he was lounging on the ceiling, and Sam just managed to go intangible before it stabbed her in the head.

“Uh, fuck you?” she said, raising her hands up at Tucker.

“You’re already dead, stop being such a baby,” Tucker said, flopping back against the ceiling he was laying against and taking another bite of his chicken sandwich.  “Plus, it’s a butter knife.”

Sam picked the knife up and tossed it right back at Tucker, who yelped and turned intangible to let it get stuck in the ceiling.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Sam said, reaching through him to grab it.  She turned back to the jelly and started spreading it on her sandwich bread, after wiping the ceiling off the knife.

“Uh, guys, if we could not leave holes in the ceiling that’d be great?” Danny said, from his own spot making a grilled ham and cheese on the stove.

“Oh please, you know you could just pass it off as a stray shot from your parents’ latest invention,” Sam said.

“That excuse only works so many times!” Danny exclaimed.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Tucker said.  “Hey Sam, could you put the mayo away?”

He drops it, only for Sam to shoot it right back up at him with an ectoblast, just one not strong enough to actually damage it.  “Fly over and do it yourself, lazy butt,” Sam said.

“Ughhh,” Tucker groans, but hovers back over to the fridge and drops the mayo inside.

“Alright,” Danny says, flipping his grilled ham and cheese onto a plate before turning to face both of them.  “My parents aren’t gonna be gone all night, so if we’re doing this we need to eat and go.”

“Of course we’re doing this,” Sam said.  “We did your observatory thing, now it’s my turn to sneak into something fun.”

“Hey, I thought I won with the tech lab,” Tucker said.  “I want to make ‘em all act up so they lower the price.”

“Nah, Danny vetoed that because he’s boring.”

“You guys can’t just mess with products that people pay for!” Danny said, throwing his hands up.

“Booo,” Tucker called.

“No one’s gonna be scared by that, Tucker,” Danny said, carrying his sandwich over to the table as he sat down.  “You can do better.”

“That wasn’t a haunting, I’m booing you!  And why do you always get to decide the morals anyway?”

“Because I’m the leader,” Danny said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Oh please!”

“Are not!”

“Am too!” Danny said.  “I got here first, that makes me the leader.”

“Oh, that is so not how that works,” Sam said, carrying her own sandwich over to the table as she finished making it.

“Why are you complaining, you get to pick the activity.”

Sam considered this, then nodded.  “Okay, you can be the leader for tonight.”

“What?  Sam, you traitor!”

“We’re going to a goth bookstore after dark!” Sam called, ignoring Tucker’s protests.

“We’re still not stealing anything,” Danny said.

“We’ll see,” Sam said, taking a bite of her sandwich.

Danny rolled his eyes, but let it slide.  Probably because he thought she was kidding.

It didn’t take long for the three of them to finish eating and head out, with Danny giving a quick call to Jazz that they’d be back late.  And not long after that, they were all flying through the air, half racing and half just joking around.

And sure, maybe Danny was still being really boring with his insistence on sticking to hero morals, but Sam could live with that for one night.  Besides, stealing things they wanted couldn’t hold a candle to seeing Danny actually laughing and having fun as Phantom.

Things weren’t perfect yet by a long shot, but they’d gotten a lot better.  Danny had followed through on “no more secrets,” and reluctantly started teaching them both a little about fighting ghosts.  It was difficult, like he’d said, but it could be fun sometimes too, and Danny seemed like he agreed with that a little more lately.  She’d started to see him bantering back and forth with the ghosts they fought and making puns during fights again, which, while annoying, was a good sign.  And while he was still harder on himself than Sam would like, she could tell he was doing better than before.  They could work on the whole “keeps a mental list of everyone who’s ever gotten hurt during a ghost fight” thing.

And in the meantime, they could all do intentionally stupid teenage things, dead or otherwise.  Though in Sam’s opinion, the dead ones were more fun.  And having two dead best friends to do them with didn’t hurt, either.

[kokonoiis]

negai no astro characters as song lyrics ♡ ( but its biased to my music taste ) ♡

hibaru yotsurugi ﾉ

" cause if boys will be boys, we do the best that we can cover for our brothers while we suffer from our own hands boys will be boys, that's the way that this thing goes mothers lose their sons and their fathers watch them go fathers watch them go "

── boys will be boys | benny

kongo yotsurugi ﾉ

" you can play this at my funeral tell my sister don't cry and don't be sad i'm in paradise with dad close my eyes and then cross my arms put me in the dirt, let me dream with the stars throw me in a box with the oxygen off you gave me the key then you locked every lock when i can't breathe, i won't ask you to stop when i can't breathe, don't call for a cop "

── r.i.p to my youth | the neighbourhood

shio yotsurugi ﾉ

" the power keeps you feeling high, but how low do you sink into your bed at night anchored down with guilt? do you toss and turn from all the bridges you've burned? or are you proud of all the hatred you've earned? a conscience buried deep beneath a heart stuck in a skeleton of greed and eyes that can’t see that happiness is so far out of reach "

── dark storm | our last night

satsuki yotsurugi ﾉ

" here comes the debt collector seems you owe him again dollars and coins can't cut your cheque this time around here comes the debt collector and you owe him again kind words and lies won't save your head this time around, 'round, 'round "

── debt collector | jhariah

( jasper i hope you can see the vision in this one )

torazo yotsurugi ﾉ

" you gotta feel the courage embrace possession if it was easier to shatter everything that ever mattered but it's not, because it's your obsession be a fighter, backbone, desire complicated and it stings but we both know what it means and it's time to get real and inspired "

── cut the cord | shinedown

kuran yotsurugi ﾉ

" i wanna be your vacuum cleaner breathing in your dust i wanna be your ford cortina i will never rust if you like your coffee hot let me be your coffee pot you call the shots, babe i just wanna be yours "

── i wanna be yours | arctic monkeys

kou yotsurugi ﾉ

" 'cuz you see only what you want to your tunnel vision haunts you and you can't see what's wrong and you keep sleeping through the p.m. eyes wide open when you're dreaming you're sleepwalking, just keep talkin and maybe you can talk your way out of this deep end no b plan in your system just tell me what you're thinking i'm scared that you might fall but you're not "

── wake up | eden

terasu yotsurugi ﾉ

" i've dug two graves for us, my dear can't pretend that i was perfect, leavin' you in fear oh man, what a world, the things i hear if i could act on my revenge, no, would i ? some kill, some steal, some break your heart and you thought that i would let it go and let you walk well, broken hearts break bones, so break up fast and i don't wanna let it go, so in my grave, i'll rot "

── revenge | xxxtentacion

kiyochika gido ﾉ

" you're cold on the inside there's a dog in your heart and it tells you to tear everything apart you draw blood just to taste it you hold bones just to break them you ruin everything you touch and destroy anyone you love you're all over me "

── dog teeth | nicole doppleganger

botan ﾉ

" it's so hard to let go you can hear me but i'm invisible but if you dig out your eyes, maybe pain will subside the worst that could happen is you never see me again but the worst is yet to come, my friend "

── hickory creek | whitechapel

shunichiro fudo & kanjiro fudo ﾉ

" two birds of a feather say that they're always gonna stay together but one's never going to let go of that wire he says that he will but he's just a liar two birds on a wire one tries to fly away and the other watches him close from that wire he says he wants to as well, but he is a liar "

── two birds | regina spektor

kinpa yobana ﾉ

" scared of my own image scared of my own immaturity scared of my own ceiling scared i'll die of uncertainty fear might be the death of me fear leads to anxiety don't know what's inside of me "

── doubt | twenty one pilots

──kokonoiis 2024

[apeshit]

just had a super lucid dream but i was scared the whole time so it wasnt super fun

[omnybus]

Dream Sketchs: Zombie Lab

Some more dream sketches, this time drawn entirely on my iPad via Clip Studio Paint!

--

So, in my dream I was sneaking around this college campus trying to get into the restricted, staff-only areas. I wasn't looking for anything in particular; I just wanted to trespass for its own sake. I was silently thrilled as I got past a back door left open by accident, and proceeded to squeeze my way through a long, winding hallway full of cardboard boxes full of old documents, all stacked to the ceiling and taking up half the hallway width. Eventually I ended up inside what looked like a science lab of some sort.

It was a typical college science classroom- cabinets, counters, various containers and equipment- but the main centerpiece was this giant wooden table that stretched across most of the room. On top of the table was a row of giant glass fishtanks, two of which were full water, and all of them had some kind of creature inside.

The first one was a tank labeled "Undead Anchovies" (note: I know most people find they can't read text in dreams, but I usually can; sort of. Whenever I go to read something, the paper would start off blank or covered in blurry nonsense, but then I would "know" what it says, and it would immediately say it. if that makes sense). Inside the tank was a few dozen strange-looking fish, swimming around in murky brownish-green water. Despite the name, the Undead Anchovies looked more like sea slugs or some kind of flying fish. But all of them were a murky grayish-blue in color, and visibly sick-looking with pale eyes and ratty skin covered in wounds and missing bits. I could even see thin fibers and little chunks flaking off them. Looking at them I "knew" that they were the first successful creature to be brought back from the dead. Besides looking dead, they also swam erratically, some just lying on the floor.

The second tank was more sparsely populated with those fish, and had a giant fiberglass stone cave making up half of it. Out of the cave came an undead seal, also covered in small patches of rot with its eyes sunk deep in its sockets. It grabbed one of the fish in its teeth but didn't chew or swallow- it just sort of held it in its mouth, as if not knowing what to do next.

The third tank was not filled with water; instead it was a terrarium of some kind with a big mossy rock, some ferns, a small tree, and an undead doe's severed head stuck on a wooden pole. Her jaw just sort of flopped up and down, dangling loosely from her head while she silently looked around the room with glassy black eyes.

The final creature was not in a cage, but sitting out in the open on a perch: a ratty-looking kakapo parrot, hunched over with its face covered with what looked like a plastic wolf head pulled off of one of those wolf-themed knickknacks you see in gift shops. Looking at it I knew that it wore that because its real face was missing entirely, so they covered it up with that wolf head at the last minute.

As I wandered around the lab some more, it occured to me that even though these creatures were zombies, they weren't aggressive or carnivorous at all- mostly they just seemed confused and scared, as if they didn't know what they were supposed to do now that they were brought back to life and had no sense of hunger or fatigue. I went through another door and kept going.

This was one of the last scenes in my dream that I remember clearly; I opened up a door only to stumble into a meeting room for the people responsible for the undead animals. All of the people there were dressed in typical office attire, but their heads were giant bottles of over-the-counter medicine. They all turned to look at me in surprise (as much surprise as faceless bottles could look with) and someone yelled "HEY!" I then shut the door and bolted in the other direction. Some gave chase, but I woke up shortly afterwards.

--

Woo-wee, talk about a mood whiplash! We started out with a creepy and even tragic story only to end on something more nonsensical, almost stereotypical really- I mean regular people with objects for heads is like Surrealism 101. Still, glad I remembered this.

[dracowars]

frostbitten | anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin x jedi!reader

word count: 3,2k

summary: where anakin and y/n find themselves in a situation that forces them to confess their true feelings

a/n: another anakin one shot, i hope you like it!

warnings: angst, claustrophobia

universe: star wars

 “Anakin, you and Y/N continue to the north. Ahsoka and I take on the more southern areas. As soon as you notice something suspicious, let me know immediately via your comlinks”, Obi-Wan explains the plan to you in a loud voice in order to talk over the loud and angry snowstorm roaring around you. Nodding, you put on the fur-trimmed hood of your snowsuit and follow Anakin back to your Freeco bikes that you parked there shortly before to do a briefing with Obi-Wan.

You feel like you have been in the vast expanse of snow on Hoth all day long as you are fighting your way through its blizzards in search of a secret base of the Separatists. The Republic was able to locate plans of the Separatists, which show a base on this cold ice planet. Unfortunately, it does not show where said base is located and now it is up to you to find its concrete location.

“Stay close to me. Who knows what might awaits us out here”, Anakin orders while getting his bike ready to go. Holding your hands in front of your face to prevent the heavy snow from obscuring your view, you stomp through the deep snow to your vehicle and sit inside. You wait until Anakin does the same and then follow him through the desolated ice desert of the uninhabitable planet. Due to the snowstorm, you can only see a few meters ahead, which makes this whole mission a lot more difficult.

After driving through the endless snow for several minutes, a white mountain comes into view in front of you and Anakin gives you a hand sign, signalizing you to stop. Bringing your bike to a stop and opening the cockpit, Anakin is already by your side to help you out with an outstretched hand.

“What is this?”, you ask in amazement after thanking him, taking a few difficult steps towards the icy mountain, something that seems like a cave in the thick layer of ice finally coming into view.

“I do not know”, Anakin sighs and pulls a portable scanner out of his coat to scan the area. “But I think we will find out any moment.”

As you continue to walk towards the snow-covered mountain with heavy steps, however, you miss a small hole in the deep snow and your foot gets stuck in it. You can only manage to escape with Anakin’s help, but from now on he suddenly keeps a secure hold on your arm to not let it happen again, his gentle touch giving you butterflies in your stomach that you try to keep under control

Like you do with all of the feelings, deep down inside of you, that you have for this man.

“Did I not tell you to stay close to me?”, he reprimands you briefly but does not loosen his grip as you walk through the entrance into the small cave. The whistling of the blowing snowstorm outside becomes quieter, and you take a look around, taking off your hood, which was covering a little bit of your view. Freeing your snowsuit of snow, your gaze wanders through the cold cave.

“No signs of the Separatists yet?”, you ask when Anakin’s scanner still does not provide you with any information about what is hidden in this mysterious ice cave.

“Does not seem like it, but we should be careful. I have a really bad feeling about this”, Anakin says, concentrating while going further into the cave. You follow close behind him and the further you go, the colder it suddenly gets again, the blizzard outside raging even louder than before, the wind bouncing off the solid walls, creating a sinister echo.

“Look at this. These corridors do not look like they were created by nature, do they?”, Anakin mentions, who has let go of you in the meantime, only leaving a warm feeling on the spot where he touched you. You look around the corridor with interest and gently place your hands against the glittering walls of ice. With your eyes closed and with the use of the Force, you try to find some clue when you suddenly perceive a crack. And another one. And another.

“Do. Not. Move”, Anakin says in a hushed voice.

Not moving a single muscle in your body, you look at him. He is standing very close to you but keeps his look at the ground under your feet, which no longer looks as stable as it did before. Fine cracks in the ground emanate from your feet and spread through the entire corridor. Holding your breath, you try your best to hold still.

“Anakin-“

As soon as the simple mention of his name leaves your lips, a much louder crack disturbs the silence and suddenly the ground beneath you collapses. Screaming, you helplessly fall into the depths, but Anakin manages to pull you to him while falling down. With a loud thud, you land on solid ground, accompanied with a huge layer of ice and snow, and roll a few meters across the ground until you finally come to a stop. You are lying on top of Anakin, who is still tightly pressing you against his body to protect you.

With your head and entire upper body on his chest, you can feel his racing heartbeat. Groaning in pain, he grabs his head and you too need a moment to cope with the heavy shock you just went through.

“Are you- Are you hurt?”, he asks you worriedly while trying to sit up in pain, automatically pulling you with him.

“No, I do not think so. And you?”, you answer his question and scan his body to find any possible injuries. Anakin shakes his head, snow, that was caught in his brown locks, flying through the air. As he is just about to say something, already opening his mouth, his breath suddenly gets caught in his throat as he looks around. You follow his gaze and only now do you notice that you are in a large hangar several meters below the ground.

“What the-?”, Anakin speaks up again, getting up from the ground before pulling you back onto your shaky legs as well. There are numerous deactivated spaceships around you, as well as all kinds of battle droids. However, you do not get to look around more closely when you hear another crack above you and shortly afterwards further layers of snow fall on you. Anakin blocks the snow from you with his body, his arms slung around you, covering your head, after pulling you close to him.

“It is far too dangerous here. Come on”, he mentions and without letting you reply, he quickly pulls you away from the holes in the ceiling and under the thicker walls of ice, which appear more stable, right where the battle droids are.

“That is almost an entire army in here”, you whisper to Anakin, fearing that the droids might hear you and then activate themselves. “The plans were actually correct. There is indeed a secret Separatist military base down here!”

“But it seems to be abandoned, don’t you think?”, Anakin notices as he takes a closer look at one of the battle droids, examining the enemy of which you have already destroyed countless on the battlefield. “The Separatists have much newer technology in their droids than these have.”

Feeling very uncomfortable about how close he is to those droids, you grab his arm and pull him back.

“Great, we found the base now, so let us find an exit and get out of here, Anakin. I do not think we should stay here any longer than we have to, please”, you admit, and Anakin senses the fear that surrounds you, which is probably the reason why he agrees. Looking across the hall, you are on a lookout for a possible way out of this cave.

“There is a door over there”, Anakin points out and you sneak there with careful steps, past the deactivated droidekas and command droids. When you press the buttons on the door, it jerks briefly, creating an unbearable high-pitched squeak, but then stops, not moving any further after that.

“Great”, Anakin rolls his eyes before taking out his lightsaber, ramming it into the door before slicing a way out for you both through the heavy resistant door. You quickly do the same and start cutting through the door with your own lightsaber as well. When your hands touch at the top all of a sudden, you quickly pull your hands away. Anakin uses the Force to pull the cut-out part out of the door and set it aside.

Forcing yourself through the hole, you find yourself in another corridor that does not look much different than the one through whose floor you broke earlier, which is why you feel uncomfortable again. You carefully move and when you arrive at an intersection, Anakin grabs your hand to stop you. One of the paths is blocked, which is why you are forced to take the other one.

“This is a pure minefield. Everything in here is collapsing”, he explains as you continue to cautiously move through the underground passages, glued together as to not lose each other.

“Maybe that is why they left everything behind”, you mutter. “And we walked right into the trap.”

“What use would that have for them?”, Anakin questions when he tries to activate his commlink again. However, you both seem to be so deep under the ground that you no longer have any connection, and therefore have absolutely no chance of contacting the outside world.

“I do not know, maybe that they successfully kill two Jedi with it”, you respond snappily, which is why he looks at you with a frown. “What? It is true.”

“If you keep on thinking this negatively, then yes, they will probably really kill us”, he replies with an annoyed undertone in his voice.

“Oh sorry. I did not choose to be here either”, you roll your eyes at him, but when he does not reply and just walks on, you follow him quickly, too scared to walk around alone. Shortly before you reach him again, you are forced to stop because of the cracking of the ice above you. Anakin notices it as well and when in the next moment the ceiling threatens to break down directly down on you, he reaches you just in time and throws himself on top of you.

Together you fall on the cold solid ground, Anakin’s body acting like a protective shield over you as you two are buried under huge parts of the ceiling. The noises around you do not stop at all while new masses of snow come down every second and finally lock you in on both sides.

Even when the echoing noises subside, you do not move an inch, but you can feel your hearts beating quickly against each other. Your breathing is irregular and it feels like masses are pressing on your body, crushing you beneath them. Your vision has gone completely white due to the snow, making it very hard for you to breathe with the snow everywhere. Slowly and weakly pressing your hand against the thick layer of snow above you, squeezing your eyes shut in order to transmit all of your remaining strength into the Force, it eventually floats away as you create a safe bubble around you before sliding it aside and let go of it. The forces affecting your body disappear in an instant and you take in a very deep breath, desperately gasping for air.

“A-Anakin?”, you stutter out, your body aching. He does not answer, and your vision suddenly blurs before everything around you turns pitch-black.

When you gain back your consciousness at some point, you feel an incredible cold surrounding you, but nothing has changed. Anakin’s lifeless body is still on top of you, also ice cold. Adrenaline rushing through your veins, you push yourself up with him and quickly lay him down on his back.

“Anakin? Anakin, do you hear me?”, you ask frightened and firmly shake his motionless body. Quickly, you press your cheek against his chest and sigh of relief when you hear his very weak but steady heartbeat. His body is freezing, and you do not hesitate to take off your gloves and put your hands against his cheeks, hoping that your own body heat will warm him up at least a little bit.

“Come on, wake up. Don’t do this to me”, you silently beg him and keep trying to warm his cold body up, shaking him over and over again. Because of the extreme cold, you are not able to feel the tip of your fingers anymore after some time and your teeth are chattering, but you do not give into the cold. You are a Jedi, you can’t give up and you won’t, concentrating on the tiny bit of warmth that is still within you.

“If you do not wake up now, I will never be able to tell you how I feel about you!”, you yell at him and, as if on cue, he suddenly stirs awake, coughing while gasping for air. Startled, you stare at him for a few seconds before bending over him again.

“Do you hear me, Anakin?”, you ask again and he frowns when hearing your soft voice.

“Y/N?”, he breathes out softly and his eyelids slowly flutter open.

“Yes. I am here”, you confirm. He looks at you exhaustedly before sitting up with your help, groaning in pain. His body is visibly trembling from the cold, his lips discolored bluish, almost all the life vanished from his face.

“Why is it so damn cold?”, he stutters and wraps his hands around his body until he notices that you have taken off your gloves. “Are you crazy?! Put these on again!”

“I warmed you up”, you explain when he puts the gloves in your hands and you put them back on over your freezing cold hands. “We are trapped, Anakin. We can’t get out of here. Obi-Wan will never find us and we will freeze to death.”

“Hey, hey, hey. Take it easy, okay? We will make it out of here, I promise”, Anakin replies immediately, taking your face between his hands, forcing you to look into his beautiful eyes, preventing you from having a panic attack. “I promise I will get us out of here.”

Holding back the cold tears that have formed in your eyes, you nod and break the intense eye contact. You rub your arms with trembling hands, not making you feel warmer at all, maybe even turning it colder.

“Come here”, Anakin finally orders and spreads his arms to invite you in. You look at him puzzled, not knowing what he is suggesting. Interpreting that he only wants to comfort you, you refuse.

“N-No, it is okay. I am fine-“

“Body heat is our only chance”, he interrupts you and ruthlessly pulls you into his arms all of a sudden. He presses you close to his body, warming you up right away whether it be for his body heat or your burning cheeks due to the sudden proximity to him. Leaning your head on his shoulder, sitting against the wall with your back, your bodies are pressed close together.

“Why did you do that?”, you ask him out of nowhere as he takes your hands between his to warm them up as well. Because of the cold, your breath is visible in the air.

“Why did I do what?”

“Save me.”

“I can’t just let the snow bury you. I would never forgive myself.”

“You would sacrifice your own life.. for me?”, you ask incredulously and look at him, his eyes switching back and forth between your sparkling ones.

“Yes”, he answers briefly and suddenly something in his expression changes before he turns to you completely, his grip around your hands tightening even more. “I want you to listen to me. If we should really never get out of here, then I want you- I need you to know something.”

“A-Anakin?”, you stutter out and your pulse skyrockets, hoping that his words suggest exactly what you wanted to hear so badly for years now.

“I know we have our problems and I know that we are forbidden to, but.. Every time I see you, I get so nervous and do not even know what to say. My heart beats so much faster at the sight of you and I.. I admire you in so many ways”, Anakin confesses and looks deep into your glistening eyes, his hand gently removing the powdery snow from your hair. “I have to think of you every single day, you are always on my mind. I can’t concentrate when you are around and I-I had to admit this before it was too late.”

Speechless, you look at him, tears of joy shooting into your eyes.

“You do not have to say anything, you do not have to return the feeling either”, Anakin quickly continues when he does not get any reaction from you. Only when a gentle smile forms on your exhausted face does he stop rambling.

“You would not believe me when I told you how badly I wanted to hear these words out of your mouth”, you softly giggle, your lungs breathing in the cold air causing you to cough weakly. “I feel just like you, Anakin. I feel the same way when you are around.”

“Y-You- Really?”

“Yes, and before we die, I want you to know this. Anakin, I am deeply, truly in love with you. I have always been”, you cough, and your eyes feel heavier by each second as the cold slowly gets the best of you.

“I love you”, Anakin says in a shaky voice. Gently leaning forward towards you, he puts his lips on yours in a kiss that you both have longingly hoped for all this time. Your first and probably last kiss before none of you can longer withstand the extreme cold and your bodies shut down.

With your heads leaning against each other, breathing so slow that it is already dangerously close on the edge of fading and your skin color as white as corpses, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka find you only minutes later.

When you slowly gain back your consciousness a little later and open your eyes slightly, blinded by an uncomfortably bright light, you need a moment to remember what happened and why you just woke up with an oxygen mask covering your mouth and nose. Before the panic can set in, however, you feel a slight pressure, barely noticeable, on your hand and you turn your head to the side carefully, only to see that Anakin is lying next to you on a stretcher, his eyes full of exhaustion as he gently smiles at you, too weak to keep his eyes open. You gently squeeze his hand and return his reassuring smile and before you know it, the exhaustion overtakes you again as well and you drift off peacefully, thinking about the only person who has ever meant something to you.

[seijorhi]

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Me attempting a multi-part fic?? More likely than you think! I wrote this fic because this blog started with Hawks and Dabi and kinda got a bit of traction with soulmate au’s so to me it made sense to post it for my first anniversary. I hope you guys like it! 💕

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x female reader, Keigo Takami (Hawks) x female reader

TW canonical character ‘death’, a little angst and maybe a slight hint of dub-con (if you squint your eyes a little)

Part I, II

You’re eleven years old when your parents take you by the hand, sit you down on the couch and tell you that your soulmate is dead.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s a hollow ache inside of your chest like something important is gone but you were with Touya only yesterday. You had the rest of your lives together, you were gonna leave with him, start something better…

You feel empty and you can’t understand it. He can’t be dead, that’s not how it works. You find your soulmate and you get to ride off into the sunset. You get to be happy, everyone knows that.

But it doesn’t sink in until you’re kicking and screaming by his grave and Endeavor won’t so much as meet your eye and your parents are pulling you back because there’s no body.

There’s nothing left of Touya Todoroki.

And there’s nothing left of you without him.

—

They call it the bloom. A simple touch, the first from your soulmate’s hand, and the mark appears on your skin like drops of ink spilled into water. You’ve always thought it beautiful, the delicate black pattern imprinted on your wrist.

You can still remember the heat you’d felt when it happened. Not the burning kind you knew him capable of, but like the warmth of a fire seeping through you. And you remember the way those bright, blue eyes had widened as you’d tripped and fell, taking him with you. His mark was over his heart; Touya always was stupidly smug about that.

You were just kids. Angry and scared and lost, but you had Touya and Touya had you.

(Not that that counted for anything in the end. He still died alone.)

They say it’s rare to find your soulmate before adulthood, but you’d been one of the lucky ones.

Lucky.

The word tastes bitter on your tongue now. It’s not that you disagree exactly – even now, years after his death you’re glad that you had time with him. You would’ve been grateful for a minute, for a mere glance at his face. Two and a half years with your soulmate was a gift, but having him, losing him so young only meant that you had more years of your life to struggle on without him.

And sometimes you catch yourself staring at your mark, lost in thought. Touya was the one with all the plans, you were always just the tag along, happy to go anywhere so long as he was the one leading you. You wonder what he’d think if he could see you now. Not the Hero you’d let yourselves imagine, though you suppose you both knew deep down that was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like you.

Gazing around your cramped, messy apartment, debating exactly how badly you need this shitty, barely-enough-to-scrape-by job, you can’t imagine he’d be impressed.

God knows your parents are disappointed, but that’s nothing new. The Quirkless daughter of two mid rank heroes – well, the only thing you ever had going for you was being Enji Todoroki’s future daughter in law, and everybody knows how that one ended.

But part of you likes to think that maybe Touya wouldn’t judge you too harshly for it. You’re doing the best you can. You’re surviving, all on your own, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

There’s a text message awaiting you when you roll over and grab your phone.

Happy Birthday x

Natsuo never forgets. The rest of the Todoroki’s – you ceased to matter to them the day they buried an empty casket for their son. Natsuo’s the only one who bothers to check in on you, make sure that you’re keeping your head above the water. It’s usually just a message here and there, and he calls you on Touya’s birthday. And on the anniversary of his death.

It’s painful for him, but you suppose you’re the only tangible connection he has left of his brother.

You stare at the message for a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart. Typing out a quick reply, you set your phone down and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.

Today of all days, you’d honestly rather just roll over and let the hours pass you by, but your boss isn’t that forgiving and as much as you hate to admit it, you need this job.

The hotel’s already abuzz by the time you clock in, your manager’s jaw tight, a frown pinching at his face. As much as you don’t like him, you can’t exactly blame him for the bad mood – in less than three hours, the ballroom will be filled with a media circus and a plethora of pro heroes. Some big promotional event before the hero rankings are announced; you honestly don’t care.

It just means that everybody’s on edge, you’re gonna spend all day stuck in heels, smiling blandly while you serve people who won’t so much as look twice at you.

And then there’s the real reason you’re dreading today. 6’4”, blue eyed, broad shouldered, currently burning holes into you from across the ballroom while you carry around a platter of canapés. The last time you’d seen Enji Todoroki in person was two weeks after the funeral, and he’d ignored you entirely.

That was years ago; you weren’t even in your teens. Half of you had hoped that in his infinite arrogance and the complete lack of care he’d shown since his son’s death he would’ve forgotten about you entirely.

From the way he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at you while bulldozing past reporters, though, you’re not feeling all that confident.

And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why your presence seems to be disturbing him so much, considering you’re really only there to serve and then fade into the background. It’s not like you’re chasing after him, demanding an autograph much less any kind of acknowledgement – you’re not exactly thrilled to be here either. Things work just fine with the two of you pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Does he think you’ve planned this? Some big ‘fuck you’ to try and mess with what you’re sure will be an announcement of his retainership of the number one position? Even while Touya was still alive, his father didn’t have a place in your life – he was off training his youngest, you barely saw him and you were glad for it.

While he might have hated him, some part of Touya still idolised him, craved his approval, but Enji had never been anything to you but a selfish, unfeeling monster. A bully.

But now he’s staring at you, slack jawed and wide eyed like he’s seen a ghost and it’s harder than you thought it would be to keep that smile plastered across your face knowing he’s watching your every move.

Your cheeks feels hot, and it only gets worse when you realise that Endeavor’s less than subtle behaviour is slowly but surely drawing attention from others in the room. A few curious reporters have shot you odd looks, heads cocked for a moment before dismissing you as just another waitress, hardly headline worthy.

The other heroes are less quick to brush you off. Mirko, current number five, elegantly clasping her glass of champagne in a gloved hand keeps shooting furtive glances between you and Enji, Gang Orca’s beady eyes following you across the floor, a flicker of what you’re fairly sure is concern maring his face.

It’s mortifying. Your smile is stretched and painful, your throat tight and you feel utterly exposed, but there’s nothing you can do. The flame hero doesn’t seem to care about the attention he’s drawing, or that with every passing minute it gets harder and harder for you to maintain that professional, customer service demeanour you need for this job.

And you’re beyond caring if he’s embarrassed to find his firstborn’s soulmate has sunk so low in his absence, you just want him to stop staring so you can finish your shift in peace. But it seems like the flame hero has other plans, because you’re just beginning to seriously weigh up your chances of keeping this job if you just up and walk off right here and now when Enji’s limited patience finally reaches its threshold.

He doesn’t bother offering excuses towards the poor reporter trying to pry an interview out of him, he just abruptly sets his drink down and starts stalking towards you. Rationally, you realise that with all these people here, he can’t make too much of a scene.

It’s just that even the thought of having to talk with him, to look into those blue eyes that are so painfully familiar yet wrong–

You can’t do it.

Not today.

And so you spin on your heel, stomach lurching. The silver tray in your hands stacked high with champagne teeters and falls, crystal glass shattering on the marble floors drawing gasps from the crowd. Endeavor calls out your name but you block him out, desperately weaving your way through the stunned mass of people.

Most of them give you a wide berth, likely due to the oversized hero barrelling after you. He calls your name again, louder this time. It’s not a scream, or a yell – it almost sounds pleading, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Endeavor doesn’t do pleading.

Your cheeks are burning; there’s too many people staring and hot tears begin to prickle at your eyes. A flash of red blurs past your field of vision and you start, a sharp squeak slipping out as a figure lands before you, blocking your exit.

Handsome with bushy eyebrows, dirty blonde hair messily brushed back and golden eyes gleaming; the hero in front of you would be impossible to mistake, even if it weren’t for the sweeping blood red wings sprouting from his back. Hawks, the current number two pro-hero and the only man standing between you and your fumbling escape.

Your body’s slow to catch up with your mind though, and as you try to stop, backpedal and side-step him at once your foot catches on your ankle. It’s instinctive, the way your arms fly up, wildly trying to catch yourself before you fall on your ass.

Just like you suppose it’s instinctive for him to rush forward to do the same.

It happens in a split second, your fingers brushing the skin of his neck just above the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping at your waist to steady you. Beneath his gloved hand a familiar burst of heat warms your skin.

Time slows to a crawl. The ballroom, all the gathered heroes and the press, your co-workers, they all fade into the background as your eyes dart to your fingertips, resting gently on the side of Hawks’ throat. There, a soft, inky black mark begins to unfurl spreading up to his jaw, disappearing below the collar of his turtleneck.

Over the quiet hum of the classical music playing in the background, you hear his breath catch.

He has you dipped, the two of you frozen as if in a dance and for a moment you dare to meet those piercing golden eyes. There’s a clicking sound, a camera shutter you distantly register, but while it makes your heart jump, Hawks pays it no mind.

He stares at you with impossibly wide eyes; open, vulnerable and raw.

And then he blinks, and that glimpse is gone, his grip tightening as he slowly sets you right. He doesn’t let you go, however.

“Hawks,” Enji’s tone is low and gruff, a warning this time.

Tension, thick and crackling with electricity hangs in the air between the three of you, amplified by the crowd of onlookers. All those journalists, chomping at the bit with the realisation of a juicy story playing out right in front of their eyes. Your name’s called out again, not by Endeavor, but by the reporter he’d cut off before – eyeing you now with an eager leer that has you recoiling back into Hawks’ embrace.

It’s enough to jerk the winged hero into action. His mouth finds your ear, his thumb sweeping soothingly along your side as he speaks low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna leave, baby bird?”

You don’t remember nodding, but you must have, because in the space of a single heartbeat Hawks has you hoisted up in his arms, those powerful wings spreading wide – and you’re flying.

—

“I don’t think I have a job anymore,” you laugh drily, staring down at the city lights twinkling on the horizon.

Beside you, Hawks snorts in agreement, “Hell of a way to make an exit, though.”

He’s not wrong. You can only imagine what the tabloid headlines will say tomorrow ‘Pro Hero sweeps hotel waitress soulmate off her feet’ ‘Hawks mates for life; Endeavor jealous?’ Even if by some miracle your boss wasn’t intent on firing you on the spot, you’re not sure you can even bear to show your face there again.

It’ll be a pain though, trying to find a new job while your face is plastered across every less than reputable news outlet.

Perched atop the rooftop of Hawks’ hotel, halfway across the city, the wind ruffling gently through your hair, everything feels… surreal almost. It’s your birthday, and instead of crashing through the door of your apartment, exhausted and aching before falling face first onto your bed and not moving for the next few hours, you’re here. With the number two pro hero. Who, incidentally, is your second soulmate.

Having more than one soulmate, it’s not unheard of, just… rare.

And your hand’s entwined with his, his gloves long since discarded, his fleece lined jacket draped over your shoulders. Touya’s mark, long since blossomed across your inner wrist lies starkly between the two of you, unignorable.

“It was his son, wasn’t it?” he asks eventually, breaking the fragile silence as he toys with your fingers. When you nervously risk a glance up, Hawks doesn’t look angry or upset or even that jealous. Those golden eyes study your face with an odd kind of curiosity, but there’s no trace of resentment there. “Touya, the one who died. He was your soulmate.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. A part of you’s almost surprised he put it together so quickly, but you guess being a pro hero of that calibre requires a little more than just having a strong quirk.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, because what else can you say?

You can’t possibly imagine how he’s feeling right now, what thoughts are running through his head. You’d accepted a long time ago that while you’d love Touya Todoroki until your dying breath, he was gone; that chance of a fairytale happily ever after going with him. Another soulmate wasn’t something you’d ever considered, much less wasted time longing for.

And yet here you are, another mark inked across your skin and it feels wrong somehow, yet also completely right. Imagining being on the other foot; putting yourself in Hawks’ shoes – a pro hero soulmated to some insignificant, quirkless waitress, and not only that, but finding out she has another soulmate, somebody she loved before you, a ghost of a memory you’ll always be competing against… you honestly don’t know how you’d feel.

“Look at me,” he whispers, calloused fingers coaxing at your chin. Heart thrumming like a hummingbird's you comply, letting out another soft squeak as Hawks takes the hand still entwined with his and lifts it to his neck, right above his mark.

He smiles, nuzzling into the touch as your breath stutters. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Again, you find yourself nodding without even really being conscious of it. It doesn’t seem to matter to Hawks though, whose smile widens at the sight of it. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face as molten pools of honey drink you in. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, mixed emotions warring inside of you as he cups your cheek.

“And I’m yours. That’s all I care about, baby bird.”

He’s drawing you into a kiss before you can even comprehend the words, soft lips moving against yours. Gently at first, but that sweetness gives way to a burning urgency as he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

Hawks kisses you like your lips hold salvation, and it’s frightening and thrilling and it feels like every nerve in your body is electrified when his teeth catch at your bottom lip and he moans your name.

There’s some part of you that realises that you’re moving too fast – soulmates or not he’s practically a stranger – but as you break for air, panting and breathless and Hawks looks at you with those burning, beautiful eyes; you’re helpless to resist.

“Keigo,” he tells you as he lays you down on his bed, crawling up between your thighs with a gleaming, hungry smirk that’s nothing less than predatory, “Call me Keigo.”

[bcdwhcre]

OMG a Levi imagine where he hears a commotion outside his room in the middle of the night and when he opens the door the reader, who’s a young cadet, gets scared and falls with an injured bird in their hand. Over time Levi grows more protective of the reader because ever since that night they remind him more and more of Isabel? TY BESTIE ILY 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

“Protect,” Levi x Reader

you request, I deliver

Summary: Levi being the over protective soft baby he is

Warnings: none

.

.

.

It was getting rather late, the sun was setting and you were too busy being outside and enjoying the sun going down, the sky bursting into beautiful colors that had you in awe.

And even when it had gotten dark, you laid outside and watched the stars shine brightly above you. It made you feel somewhat normal in this messed up world.

You didn’t realize how late it really was, you just laid there until you heard some noises in the distance, a bird still chirping but it was odd considering you were sure it was the middle of the night.

Your feet made its way to the source of the noise, gasping when you noticed the small bird with a broken wing and instantly you had picked it up, your feet almost running inside and down the long hallway where everyone slept in their rooms.

You turned the corner a little too fast and stumbled a bit, hitting the wall with your elbow and you winced at the sharp pain running through your arm then your eyes widened when you heard a door creek open.

Levi’s tired eyes, still half asleep and only in a pair of sweatpants when he met your gaze, the grumpy look on his face told you that you woke him up and you had a look of terror written across your face.

“Cadet, it’s past midnight. What are you doing?” He said, annoyance dripping off his tongue and you began to stutter, your words getting caught in your throat.

“I, I’m so sorry, Captain. I didn’t mean to wake you, I just found this bird with a broken wing and I had to come bring it inside and I rushed-“ Levi raised his hand, cutting your rambling story short.

“Okay okay, I get it.” He put his hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose and then moved his eyes to the bird down in your hands.

He glanced back up at you, seeing your cheeks turn a dark shade of red as he followed your eyes down to his bare chest. He grunted, making your eyes snap up to his and you gulped.

“Wait here.” He mumbled, shutting the door behind him and you stood there awkwardly.

You had already forgotten about him once you took a look at the bird, in awe at it as it sat in your hands and you moved your finger to gently pet it’s head.

“You’re so cute.” You whispered, practically talking to the small animal and you didn’t realize Levi had opened up his door, hearing everything you were saying.

He stood there for a moment, noticing how clueless you were to his presence but he found your actions pretty cute, he couldn’t help but watch for a while longer until your eyes had randomly moved up and got startled when you see him staring at you.

Levi chuckled, fully stepping out of his bedroom and gesturing you to follow him down the hallway to where the infirmary was. He had helped you grab a few things and even helped you wrap the birds wing with some bandages.

He couldn’t help but watch you again, the memories of Isabel flooding his head and it made you remind him of her. A frown came across his lips, the guilt weighing him down at the thoughts of Isabel.

“Levi?” He snapped out of it, his eyes meeting yours as you put the bird in a small box and put it in one of the empty rooms.

“Hm?”

“You can go back to bed if you want to, I’m sorry for waking you.” You walked beside him down the long hallway and he stopped once you both made it to your bedroom door.

“Don’t be, it was an eventful night.” He smiled at you, patting your upper arm then turning around to walk to his room once he said goodnight.

The walk back to his room wasn’t long but the whole time his mind kept thinking about Isabel. He had tried to erase her from his mind but it was nearly impossible, that was his close friend and he felt at fault for her death.

Now you sat in front of him, almost a spitting image and he had to think as to why he never thought about it before. All the times he’s worked with you and watched you on the field, you didn’t remind him of her but when it came to your clumsiness, your urge to help anyone or anything, your nervous state, the way you stuttered when you were nervous- it all reminded him of her.

He groaned, laying back in bed and staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t even bother sleeping that night, his thoughts were flooded and he couldn’t make his mind blank long enough for him to sleep.

When the next day rolled around, he had walked down the hall towards the room the bird was put in for the time being. He peaked in and saw you in there, feeding it.

As the flashbacks of Isabel ran through his head again, he shook his head and walked inside making sure to close the door behind him.

“Is the bird alright?” He asked you, his feet moving across the room to look down at the box.

“I think so.”

You seemed happy and he watched the smile on your face grow the more the bird ate the seeds from your hands.

As days went by, Levi made sure to check on the bird everyday and every time he did you were always in there taking care of it until the birds wing had fully healed.

“C’mon, you have to come outside since you technically helped me.” You dragged him outside by his hand with the box with the bird in your other hand.

Levi scoffed, letting you drag him until you two were fully stepped outside. The sun was setting slowly, the burst of colors in the sky had made you smile and feel warm. His eyes moved down to you, his heart swelling up and the more he stuck around with you the last few days with this bird, the more he was sure you were a mini Isabel.

A small smile had spread across his face, he didn’t even care about the bird, his eyes were on you the entire time you took the top off the box and watched the bird fly away.

The way your face lit up at the sight, watching the bird fly away across the orange and pink sky. The big smile on your face made Levi happy for you.

The other cadets had thought it was weird and funny seeing you in such a state like this over a bird. Jean and Connie had told you multiple times how dumb it was for you to even take a bird in and try to take care of it but Levi would step in each time to make sure they were put in their place, for you.

He felt the urge to protect your fragile heart and make sure you were happy. It wasn’t really a romantic feeling but it was like a overprotective bear, watching over his cubs.

Considering how much you reminded him of Isabel, he made sure to keep you safe since he couldn’t do it for her.

.

.

.

I’m sad now

Also I’m thinking about taking more time on my writings. I feel like from the beginning to now I’ve been trying to rush through them bc you guys seem to love them and I just want to make sure they’re not short and boring bc I’m rushing :((

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[justanobsessedfangirl]

The Sound of Silence - The Maze Runner Newt Imagine

Request from @ausblack: was wondering if you could write a newt x reader where she’s like the new greenie and the only girl. Everyone think she’s mute because she never talked and Newt decides to take care of her since he’s the only one she seems comfortable with. One day another glader attacks her making her scream and for some reason Newt recognizes that it’s her, he gets protective and helps her out. Eventually she speaks her first words to him and they both get together in the end 

Masterlist

Warning: Some mature language

Author’s Note: Sorry I haven’t posted in...a while. If it helps, you can think of me as a turtle. I’m damn slow and it’s pretty frustrating to wait but I’ll get there in the end! I hope I did this idea some justice because I thought it was pretty cool. Thank you for the request, I’m always open! (just remember the turtle analogy.) 

:)

Word Count: 3.6k

You stood in darkness. There was nothing in the darkness except for a quiet hum that rumbled the floor and the walls and the ceiling. It was power, some type of power that was running through this room and making it rise.

You stood in darkness. And you waited.

You weren’t alone, because your fear was so strong it had formed an icy hand, which wrapped around your throat, so tight it was hard to breathe. It took every ounce of your concentration to inhale, and exhale, and inhale again, and all the while the box hummed and rose, and you stood in darkness.

The hum cut off abruptly, the room halting with it. You strained your ears, and, through the loud beating of your heart, you could hear voices. Four heartbeats passed before the roof opened and the room was flooded with light.

You cringed away, raising a hand to block the brightness. Through squinted eyes, you saw boys encircling the room, level with where the roof would have been. Their voices floated down, gasps and shouts of “It’s a girl!”, and the sounds of shoving, bodies against bodies.

You took a step back, but there were boys above you there too. They were everywhere. One jumped down, making the whole box shake, and then you were turning around and around, looking for a break in the boys, a spot you could run through, someone to help, anything, anything, anything--

“It’s alright, love. We’re not going to hurt you.”

You whipped around to face the boy. He had his hands raised, and his eyebrows were knit together in sympathy. He had a kind face, with soft brown eyes.

Even so, any words you had were caught in your throat, caught by fear’s hand, trapped. Trapped, just like you. Your breaths came faster, your heartbeat quicker. Your hands trembled.

Across from you, the boy took a step back and looked up at the others. “Right, all you bloody slintheads need to back up!” He looked at one of the boys closest to the box. “Alby?”

The boy, Alby, nodded, then shouted, “Everyone, back to work!”

The crowd didn’t move. Your heart stopped. Your blood went cold.

Then, with a chorus of grumblings, the mob slowly dispersed. Boys peeled off this way and that, revealing grassy fields and large mountains in the distance. You peered closer. No, not mountains. 

Walls.

“It’s a strange story, love, but we’ll tell you all of it,” the first boy said. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the walls.

“I’m Newt. D’you remember your name?”

No. You’d realized in the darkness that you couldn’t remember anything. You felt strangely detached, like you were watching some other girl with no memories who was abducted and brought to a strange place. You felt pity for her. You felt sad for her. And you kept drifting along, only half-listening to the boy next to her, the one who said his name was Newt.

Newt stepped closer. You watched the girl watch him, watched his mouth move, watched the girl take light, careful steps to the edge of the box and climb out. You watched her stumble.

It was the feeling of Newt’s hand on your back, steadying you, that brought you back to reality.

“I’ll take you on the tour, love,” he said to you, pulling his hand back. In a soft voice, he added, “Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”

Your lips parted. Words sat on the tip of your tongue. Are you sure and How do you know and Please be right. And, also, lingering in the back, Thank you.

You swallowed and looked away from Newt.

He started walking. He kept a slow pace, both because of his limp and so he could intermittently point out buildings and people. “That’s Frypan, he’s the cook, and there’s the kitchen. Next to that’s the Homestead. You’ll be sleeping there.”

He spoke with such authority that you wanted to ask what his role in this little society was. If there was a cook, there must be a leader, and you hadn’t seen any adults around. But your tongue wouldn’t move, so all you could do was tilt your head to the side and look at Newt.

He scanned your face, then nodded. “I’m Second-in-Command. Alby’s in charge, but he won’t raise a fuss about you sleeping in the Homestead. We…” Newt ran a hand through his dirty blond hair before making eye contact again. “We haven’t…” He sighed. “You’re the only girl here. We don’t really know how the rest of those shanks will react.” Noticing your instinctive recoil, Newt hastened to say, “But you’ll be okay. Most of these lot are good guys. And the ones that aren’t...Well, they know the consequences. We won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

There was that fear again, running its hands along your arms, past your shoulders, to your neck. It squeezed painfully around your throat, so painfully that tears threatened to spring up in your eyes. You gave Newt a quick nod and looked away, into the fields he was leading you toward.

He read you like a book and quickly switched topics. “These are the Gardens. When I don’t have other duties, I like to come out here. It’s good work, but it’s also just a good place to be. It’s peaceful.” 

A short, round boy darted out of a row of tomato plants, cackling madly. Lumbering behind him was a tall boy with a shock of curly blond hair, who shouted, “Come back here, Chuck!” The younger boy, Chuck, gave no indication that he’d heard. He disappeared back into the plants, with the tall boy following him.

Newt sighed. “It’s mostly bloody peaceful,” he grumbled.

The smallest of smiles twitched your lips up. You forced them back down, reminding yourself that you were scared, that you couldn’t trust anyone here, and that the way Newt grinned down at you did not make you feel safe.

“We’ll have you start working here tomorrow, all right, love?” Newt asked.

You chewed on your lip, staring over the plants. Your eyes landed on the tomatoes, right where the boisterous duo had gone through. Flutters of anxiety filled your stomach.

“I’ll be with you. There won’t be anything to worry about.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Besides waking up with no memory, that is,” Newt added.

Your lips betrayed you again. Newt grinned, and the butterflies that had been flying inside your chest slowly started to settle down.

Newt led you through the rest of the Glade. You saw the Deadheads and the Blood House, learned about the various jobs and Keepers, and, through it all, you didn’t say a single word. Newt never pushed you. Instead, he watched for facial expressions. He responded to any tap on the arm or flick of your chin. He lingered in the comfortable silences.

As you sat in your room in the Homestead that night, knowing that Newt was asleep in the next room over, you felt your shoulders loosen, just a little. The fear was still there. It still held your throat tightly in its grasp. But you felt a trickle of hope springing in the cracks.

You woke the next morning to a knock on your door. Opening it, you saw Newt.

“Ready to get to work, love?”

You nodded. The smile you gave him was uneasy and weak, nervous and gone in a flash, but it made Newt’s eyes shine with happiness. He smiled the whole way to the Gardens. Under the shining sun, you weeded plants, hoed new rows, and picked vegetables.

Newt stuck by your side. He explained more about the Glade; all you had to do was point to a person or a place and he’d run through it, even if he’d already explained the other day. A few times, you found yourself picking out things you already knew, just so you could keep hearing his voice.

“And then Chuck convinced Minho and Thomas,” Newt said between laughs. Behind him, the sun sat heavy on the horizon, haloing him in gold. “He convinced Minho and Thomas to take the rest of Gally’s clothes and--” Newt broke off, devolving into laughter.

You hadn’t met Minho and Thomas yet -- they’d been busy in the Maze all day yesterday and in the Runner’s Hut all last night -- but you’d heard a lot about them from Newt by now. You’d also heard about “Captain” Gally, and you figured he probably deserved whatever ended up happening to his clothes.

Beneath the cover of Newt’s voice, you felt comfortable letting out a small laugh. It was the first noise you’d made in the Glade.

Slowly, Newt’s laughter stopped. He stared at you, eyes soft, his lips pulled up in a small, pleased smile. He didn’t say anything.

You looked down at the basket in your hands, trying to stop yourself from blushing.

After a second, Newt said, “Before we go to dinner, there’s one last place I want to show you.” He took the basket from you and handed it off to Zart, the Keeper of the Gardens.

The pair of you headed off towards the far wall, away from the buggy Gardens, the dark woods, and the noisy kitchen, where a hungry horde of Gladers clamored to get their dinner.

“It’s not one of the really important places,” Newt said as you walked, “so I didn’t show it to you yesterday.” His hands swung awkwardly at his sides, as though he wanted to reach one out, maybe to guide you, maybe to hold you, but couldn’t decide whether he should or not. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted him to or not.

All you did was nod.

Newt continued, “But I think, maybe, it could be good.”

As you neared the wall, you felt your stomach drop at the sheer size. You craned your head back and back and back, trying to see the top, trying to see if any ivy led all the way up. How could there ever be a way out of those walls?

A warm hand touched your arm.

Your head shot back down, eyes landing on Newt’s. The faintest pink burned on his cheeks, a glow from the sunset, maybe, or... You shook the thought out of your mind as he pointed to the wall.

Carved into the wall in front of you were names. Immediately, your gaze landed on Newt’s. Next to his, Alby’s name was done in blocky letters. Thomas and Minho had made their marks. Chuck’s name was squeezed between the two, as he often was in real life, when he’d inject himself into their days. You recognized enough names to figure out that every Glader had been here once and had left a permanent memento of themselves. Some of those mementos, like the ones with a single sharp line running through them, had already outlasted their creators.

“I thought, I don’t know...I thought maybe seeing other names would help you remember yours.” Newt rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the ground. 

Your heart felt warm in your chest. Yearning took over. You reached a hand out, tracing the closest names, looping through the letters, dotting the i’s, crossing the t’s. You wanted to remember.

Please remember. Remember for Newt. Remember for me.

You pulled your hand away and pointed to Newt’s side, where his knife was strapped. He unsheathed it out without a moment’s hesitation. When he handed it to you, his fingers brushed over yours and you could swear your heart stopped. You had to fight to keep your composure, especially with the feeling of his intense stare as he watched you carve the first letter of your name into the wall.

You felt, rather than saw, Newt step closer to you. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, his smile almost took the breath out of you. Your hand stilled as you finished the first letter.

Newt repeated it, sounding almost awed. “Keep going, love.”

Forcing your eyes away from him, you continued carving. Each letter of your name was done with precision, right below Newt’s. It felt fitting to do it there, like he was some guardian angel looking over you, keeping you safe. Being around him made you feel...the English language wasn’t sophisticated enough to describe it. You felt warm. And calm. And the kind of happiness that made your cheeks hurt and your jaw ache, even when you weren’t smiling.

When you finished, Newt said your name, his voice reverent. “Y/N.” He repeated it. He glanced down at you. “Am I saying it right, love?”

He’d gotten closer than you’d thought. His breath nearly hit the tips of your eyelashes. If you moved only a few inches you’d be touching him.

You nodded.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nodded again. He was so close you felt dizzy. You would’ve agreed to just about anything he said at that point.

“Are you able to speak?”

Your nod was more hesitant this time, slowed by dread for his next question.

“Why don’t you?”

You wanted to look away but his eyes had a hypnotic hold on you. You shrugged half-heartedly. How could you explain that every time you tried to speak your throat closed up? That your mouth went dry and you forgot every word you knew? That your heart started beating erratically, and your palms began to sweat, and it felt like walls were closing in, and you felt the fear again?

Newt nodded. He took a step back, the tension in the air dissolving. Jutting his chin at the wall, he said your name again. A smile crept onto his face. It was that soft, sweet smile that had gotten you through your first days in the Glade.

It got you through the next week, too. A week spent trying other jobs, where your lack of communication proved rage-inducing for a certain captain and ultimately landed you back in the Gardens.

It was rare that Newt wasn’t by your side. Today, though, he and Alby were caught up in meetings with the other Keepers, trying to figure out how to discipline a Glader who’d been making inappropriate comments and trying to instigate fights.

Newt had told you the basics the other day. You hadn’t wanted him to go into detail. He’d seen that on your face and quickly switched to telling you about the first crops they’d tried to plant, which had been such a disaster that the Creators sent up multiple books on farming the next month. The conversation was much lighter from then on.

Being with Newt was so easy. Most of the others pushed you too hard to talk, which only made your throat dry up and your tongue feel like lead. You wanted to talk with them, sometimes, but...you couldn’t get the words out. You couldn’t think of them when it came time to speak. You had a mental block, barricades set up to keep you from feeling too comfortable here. Part of you needed to feel the fear that came with trying to speak. If you stopped being afraid, you’d start getting complacent.

The sound of the Walls grating to a close struck the same feeling in you, even though you were safe in the Gardens, well away from the terrors of the Maze.

“Y/N.” Zart’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. “Good job today. Some of the other shanks left a bunch of tools out, could you bring them to the shed? I have to track down Chuck.” His normally placid expression morphed into a scowl as he shook his head, his blond mop of hair flopping over his forehead.

You nodded. The two of you split off among the rows, Zart’s cursing fading as you approached a scattering of trowels and rakes.

You pursed your lips in disappointment before stooping down and trying to gather everything. You ended up with two rakes and a hoe tucked under your right arm, a few trowels held close to your chest, and a sharp hand pruner held carefully in your left hand.

Boys.

You huffed as you headed for the shed. It was a crudely constructed building that was made in the first few weeks of the Glade’s existence. You’d heard some other boys say that the first Gladers originally slept here, but Newt hadn’t mentioned it so you weren’t sure how true that was. If they had slept there, you didn’t envy them. It was smaller than your room in the Homestead, which was a far cry from large. You supposed it was in a nice enough location, though; it stood on the edge of the Gardens, close enough to the woods to catch some shade, but not so deep that you were alone.

As you neared the shed, you saw that you actually weren’t alone. A figure paced next to it, head bent low, features hard to make out.

You purposely tried to walk louder as you came closer, hoping you wouldn’t scare him. At the sound of a twig crunching under your foot, his head shot up.

You’d definitely seen him before; he had thick, dark eyebrows and a strong jaw. The bruise forming under one of his eyes was new, as was his now crooked nose. You were pretty sure his name was Connor.

“Y/N,” he said, stilling in his tracks. He made no move to help you carry the tools.

You nodded, gave him a tight smile, and headed for the door. One of the rakes almost slipped from under your arm, but you squeezed it tightly and took a few hurried steps.

Connor crossed in front of you. You veered to the side. His arm shot out and grabbed your shoulder, hard enough to jostle it and send the rakes and hoe tumbling to the ground.

“You think you’re better than me or something?” He was speaking quickly, too quickly, you didn’t have a chance to respond or adjust the trowels that were slipping through your grasp or push him away. In one quick movement, he turned and slammed you into the shed wall. Two trowels dropped. You clutched the rest closer, your breaths turning into nervous pants.

“Is that why you don’t talk? You think you’re better than me? Than us?” Conor loomed over you. He glowered at you, his eyes afire with rage. “Answer me.” He slammed you back again. Your head cracked into the wall and you let out a soft whimper.

“So you can talk.” His grip was vice-like on your shoulders. His nails dug into your flesh like he wanted to tear you apart. “So why don’t you talk? Why don’t you fucking talk?” Again, he slammed you into the wall.

Were you crying? Were you talking? Were you making any noise at all?

Were you even breathing?

“You make this place even harder to be in. We don’t need some fucking mysterious mute bitch when we have to solve the Maze. Don’t you get it? You’re a distraction!” Every few words were punctuated with a slam. The air whooshed out of your lungs in a pathetic cry for help.

You’d never tried harder to talk.

But now there was so much fear in you. Not existential fear -- real, in-your-face danger.

One of Connor’s hands released your shoulder. It ached in relief until his fingers wrapped around your throat and he leaned in close to say, “Fine. Don’t talk.” And he squeezed.

Each second was an eon. Your lungs screamed for air. Blackness lingered on the edges of your vision, closing in, closing in, closing in, leaving only a pinprick of light. Your legs went numb, as if they’d just fallen asleep, and the feeling worked its way up your body, down your arms, to your hands, where the last trowel and the hand pruner were about to fall.

Hand pruner.

You had no more air, you had no more energy, and yet your body was moving and you were thrusting the sharp end of the hand pruner into Connor’s gut.

He let you go with a cry, curling over and holding his stomach. Air rushed into your lungs, only to leave a second later as you screamed, “Help!”

Connor groaned and straightened up enough to launch a clumsy fist at you. You twisted to the side. Your foot caught on a gardening tool, sending you sprawling to the ground, clambering away on hands and knees, still gasping for air.

A wet hand grabbed your ankle. You kicked, connecting with something solid, and yelled out, “Someone help!” The hand left your ankle for a second, then you heard something heavy moving in the grass, and the hand clamped down on your calf.

You tried to wriggle away. People were coming from the Gardens, you could see their black silhouettes as the sun set behind them. You heard your name, shouted by your rescuers and growled by Connor. You kicked at him again. His other hand caught your foot, using you to pull his body further onto your legs.

He was heavy. He slammed a fist into your back, knocking you flat.

“Get off of her!” Your rescuers closed in. They wrenched Connor off and surrounded him. Warm hands, soft hands, gentle hands, helped you stand. Connor’s blood rolled down the backs of your legs.

“Are you okay?” Newt asked, his voice frantic. He held you, his touch like feathers on your arms, as he scanned your body up and down, looking for any injuries. “Is that--” he started to ask, staring at your legs. Mid-sentence, Newt turned away, calling for a Med-jack.

“It’s not mine,” you interrupted him. The words were hoarse and quiet but audible, and Newt whipped back around to face you, eyebrows raised in surprise.

His touch slid down your arms, his hands enveloping your own. “I knew that was you yelling,” he said. His eyebrows lowered and his face grew serious. “I knew it was your voice. I knew it was you, love.”

Words hung on the tip of your tongue. Words you’d meant to say your first day in the Glade. Words you’d wanted to say every day since. Words that you could never get out. “Thank you,” you finally said.

Newt smiled, so wide and so bright that your heart started beating like you were sprinting. “I’ll always be here for you, love.”

The distance between the two of you was quickly fading. “I know you will,” you said, and then, again, “Thank you.” A second later, your lips met. And you felt like thanking him all over again.

[helliontherapscallion]

Sweet and Sour (Adrenaline Junkie Part 14)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: swearing, descriptions of blood, talks of hypothetically dying, bones/teeth 

Word Count: 2,392

(A/N): the next part is currently in the works and probably will be out by tomorrow/late at night tonight 

The days ticked closer and closer until you had only mere hours left until your scheduled departure for the cave. With each passing day, you became more anxious and paranoid, your prosthetic wing constantly malfunctioning until you programmed it to respond solely to your conscious movement and not the random twitching of your muscles. It took you a bit to get used to, but you quickly got the hang of it. It felt closer to having an actual wing on your back again, but not exactly. Nothing beat the feeling of the wind resisting against both wings at the same time. 

You doubted if Philza knew anything, but you did know that he suspected something. He knew you like the back of his hand and vice versa. You both knew each other all too well, he raised you and you spent most of your time with him growing up after all. 

Currently, you are obsessively reading over your will and the book you wrote for Arthur full of redstoning advice and what you’ve learned over the years. After rereading your letters to your family and your will, you decided that this is exactly how you wanted everything to turn out if you ended up not surviving this. Which, the chances of you actually surviving this was slim to none. 

However, you remained hopeful as there were several unknown variables in the equation. How big this thing was, its age, and most importantly what the cave currently looked like. It’s been multiple years and there might’ve been more erosion over the years altering the surface of the stone. From what you remembered, the ceilings were at least a hundred feet tall, so you had plenty of room to hover above it when needed. You had no clue if the ledge was still there, but if it was the being most definitely could snatch you up. You were going to have to be careful. Besides, you had a son you had to live for. You were going to get out of there alive. For Arthur. For Philza. For Wilbur. For Tommy. For Technoblade.

You reread your plans. Plan A consisted of you sneaking in (making sure this time to keep your wings close to your body), planting TNT, and setting it off with a lever as far away from the deepest part of the cave as you could. Plan B, if Plan A failed and the Warden noticed your presence, was to use the portable TNT launcher while flying as high as you could. If that failed, then you were kind of screwed. Plan C consisted of dropping everything and running for your life. You’d admit, they weren’t the most well thought out plans, but it was all you could think of.

You made sure your wing was secured on your back correctly with a full movement test before you slung your bag onto your back stocked full of redstone and TNT and put your portable TNT launcher into the holster on your hip. 

You took a deep breath and gathered your papers before you took one last look at your old workshop. You made sure to scrub it clean of redstone residue and re-sorted the blueprints so that everything was easier to find in the filing cabinets. You were sure that your… unique method of not sorting anything and just knowing where everything was would be very annoying to attempt to sort through. Even Arthur couldn’t figure out your sorting system and he was the smartest kid you knew. 

Oh Arthur… He was probably sleeping right now. Or at least you hoped he would be; it was midnight. With light footing, you walked up the stairs to the second floor and straight to Wilbur’s old room. Your little boy was sleeping peacefully burrowed underneath the covers. You could hear his soft snores exiting his mouth. 

You smiled lightly and walked over to him, sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling back the covers to see his face. His mouth was parted slightly with a small amount of drool coming out of the corner of his mouth. You reached out to stroke his curly copper hair and smiled wider at the sight of his nose scrunching slightly before he relaxed with a small smile on his face. You leaned down to place a lingering kiss on his forehead before you covered him back up again and started to quietly walk out of the room. 

“Ren?” That was what he started calling you after he gave you the magnets. It was short for ‘parent’. You froze and felt your body warm up at his sleepy tone. You turned around and watched as he rubbed at his eye with the back of his hand and yawned. “Hey Artie, go back to sleep buddy.” You walked over to him and gently pushed him back into the pillows. He nodded and grabbed your sleeve. 

“Can you get me a glass of water please?” He sounded so out of it. “Of course, buddy.” You grabbed your bag and slung it back over your shoulder. You quietly went downstairs and filled up a glass with water. You sat it on the counter and pulled out your papers and the hefty book you had written from your bag. You spread them all out on the dining room table where Philza was sure to see it in the morning. You hopefully should be back before the time he usually woke up so you could just grab them and trash them when you get back.

Before you got back to Arthur’s room, you shed your bag and TNT launcher by the front door. You didn’t know if he saw them before, but he definitely didn’t need to see them now. Inside, Arthur was propped up on his chin desperately fighting against sleep. You walked over to him and gave him his water, scolding him lightly when he didn’t fully sit up so he wouldn’t choke. When he was satisfied, he put the water on the nightstand and laid back down. He looked up at you with sleep dazed eyes, “where are you going?”

You froze and sat on his bed, “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here.” He scrunched up his nose and stared at you in annoyance, “no you aren’t, you’re going somewhere.”

You stared at him before you sighed, “I’m just going… to get more redstone. I just need a bit more to finish what I’m working on. I won’t be gone for long, I promise.”

“Can- can you stay here? At least until I fall back asleep?”

“Of course, my little fledgling.”

He looked up at you timidly, “will you always be with me?”

You rubbed your hand up and down his arm soothingly, “I’ll never leave you. Even if I’m away, you’ll always have a piece of me with you,” you grabbed your feather he kept on his nightstand and handed it to him. It was one of your primary feathers you lost in one of your last molts in the house before you left for L’manberg that you found between your bed and your wall. It was an impressive size being about a foot long, but your wings have long since grown bigger alongside your body’s growth. You were about to throw it away one day after doing a deep clean of your old room, but the boy was amazed by the patterns and the size of the feather. So you, being the caring parent you were, gave it to him. Since then, you’ve found him on several instances holding the feather to his chest in his sleep. 

He took the feather and ran his fingers along the vane and stem. You could see him tearing up slightly, so you leaned down and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ll always be with you, my little fledgling.” You pulled back after placing a kiss on his forehead and ran your fingers through his curly mop of hair soothingly. You softly sang the song Philza would hum to you as a kid and watched as he drifted off to sleep. 

“Love you Ren,” he slurred out before he was completely out. You softly smiled at his sleeping form, “I love you too, Artie. I love you too.” You sat there for a bit absorbing his every facial feature and felt pride and warmth erupt within you. Arthur Fox was your son, your pride and joy. He certainly had a bright future ahead of him. Sighing, you remembered the task ahead of you. You needed to leave soon. 

Reluctantly, you left the room and started to make your way downstairs. “Did he have a nightmare?” A sleepy quiet voice asked from behind you. You jumped and whipped around with your hand flying to the empty holster on your hip before you relaxed seeing Philza there. He looked like he just crawled out of bed, his blond hair stuck up in multiple places and his blue eyes hazy. 

You put a hand over your heart, “Ender Dad don’t do that, you scared the shit outta me. But yeah, he had a nightmare but he’s fine now.” He tiredly hummed, walking over to you and pulling you into an unexpected hug. “You’re a good parent for him. I’m so proud of you for adapting to the responsibility that adopting a kid takes.” You hugged him back tightly and wrapped your wings around him, careful of keeping the metal one barely pressed against him. You both stood there in the middle of the hallway enjoying each other’s presence before you heard him yawn and felt him pull back. You retracted your wings and stepped back. 

“Why’re you still dressed?” 

Shit, “oh, I was just finishing up something in my workshop.”

He deadpanned at you, “you know how I feel about you staying up this late, even if you’re an adult-”

“‘Even if I’m an adult it’s not healthy to constantly stay up this late’ I know, Dad. I’m almost done, I’ll be in bed in like half an hour tops.” He stared at you for a bit before he nodded and started to walk back to his room, “alright, I trust you. I’m going back to bed and I want you to do the same in a bit. Goodnight, (y/n). Love ya.”

“Love you too, Dad.” You waited until you heard the bed creak before you went back downstairs. You grabbed your stuff before you quietly opened the door and checked to see if there were any mobs around. Luckily for you, the nearest mob was only a single 

enderman. With that, you spread your wings and took off into the clear night sky. The weather was perfect for flying. It would’ve been a pleasant night flight if it weren’t for the current circumstances gnawing and nagging at you in the forefront of your mind.

You lowered yourself to the ground upon getting closer to the cave’s entrance and glided into it landing a ways into the cave to avoid any mobs. The ores around you were plentiful, the occasional glimmering of redstone cutting through the darkness. Old burnt out torches hung from the walls was the only indicator that there were previously other people in the cave prior to now. You could only imagine how Arthur looked at the ores with amazement and curiosity. 

As you ventured deeper, you could feel anxiety gripping at your chest and remembered how innocently and naively you craved exploration two and a half years ago. You shuddered as you wondered if the beast still had your feathers and bones scattered about. The torch in your hands sent flickering light onto the dark cave walls casting all sorts of shadows. You pushed onwards through the inky depths of the cave. Deeper yet deeper you walked placing torches wherever you went. 

Eventually, you arrived at the wide opening of the cave. From where you stood, the opening of the cave was massive making you feel miniscule. Even if you were to fully expand your wings to the side, your seven and a half foot wingspan still wouldn’t come close to touching the sides of the opening. The torch in your hand hardly cut through the abyss of the cave, so you made quick work of placing them around the area so you had a clear view of your surroundings. 

The cave was as you remembered it, but if you looked close enough, there were plenty of stalactites and stalagmites that weren’t there before. You could see faint dark brown stains on the walls and floors in scattered places, the stains of the miners that did not come back. The stench of rot, mildew, and decay emanated from deep parts of the cave, becoming almost unbearable in certain points where you couldn’t find anything out of place. Occasionally, you found cracked and broken shards of bone around some of the bloodstains. You even found a tooth and clumps of auburn hair. You shuddered as you remembered how Arthur told you that Hugh had dark ginger hair.

You have only found one of your feathers so far. It was trapped between a fissure in the wall. Crusted old blood decorated and clumped together some parts of the vane. You moved on to examine different parts of the cave. Sculk blocks littered the floor randomly, the tentacles calmly moving about. Soft squelching noises sounded from them; if you held your torch close to one of them, a soft shine could be seen. It was probably slimey. 

If you stopped to listen past the crackling of the fire, you couldn’t hear anything. Besides a slight squelching noise that you suspected was from the sculk blocks and the sound of water droplets dripping, there was nothing. Good, you still could place the TNT. Plan A: commence. 

You made quick work of placing sticks of dynamite between the nooks and crannies of rocks firmly and scattered the TNT along the vast expanse of the cave. Connecting the redstone was tricky though with the amount of TNT placed, but you eventually got everything connected to one and made work of making a trail to the outside. Just as you got started on trailing the redstone towards the mouth of the cave a few hundred feet away, the torches started to flicker. 

It’s here.

Series taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam  @bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado  @wing-non  @lovely-echoo  @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual  @mysteryartisticwriter  @momo-has-a-gun  @misfortunatem00n  @w-0-r-n-n  @v-kouya  @kusuinko  @cheybaee  @dulcedippers  @jaciahbabes  @prlan  @hummingbird-lightningstrike  @pog-sad-muffin  @prickypearpropaganda

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby  @izzybobizzy13  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @bunnyz-pxstel  @averytiredfanfictionwriter  @dcml04  @sparkling-gayyyy  @bbigbbrainn  @thaticecreambish  @kiinokochii  @satansphatass  @bxkubitch  @bxmentchildxx  @roxy3457  @montygator17  @feverish-dove  @the-fictionwriters-hairdo  @jichuuchaeng  @404rynnotfound  @luluwinchester  @laura--444  @the-cult-classic-bitch  @youngstarfishdinosaur  @nottheotheruser  @ohworm-writes  @localwolfanon  @realitycanbeajerk  @v10dw4lk3r

[dancingamongstdust]

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

I’ve opened requests now, if anybody is interested. Here’s the post:

Requests

Lost Silver

As stupid as it sounds, the game didn’t scare you.

It had started as a joke, something passed around your friend group after it had been discovered. The cartridge was just a janky version of a Pokémon game that was apparently spooky and so, everybody had taken turns messing around with it. They all said creepy things started happening but nothing too bad.

When it was your turn, you had been fully expecting something out of a horror movie. Instead, you had gotten a game that just had audio cut offs and weird notes warning you to stay out. It wasn’t all together scary.

You mentioned this to the next person you gave the game to in your friend group and they had laughed, saying it would probably ring true for them also.

But for some reason, your ally didn’t manifest.

Less than two days later, they practically threw the game at the rest of you and ran away sprouting things about curses. After that, the appeal of playing it kind of went away.

Nobody wanted to buy it and apparently throwing it out wasn’t a suggestion. So you ended up getting it.

Curiosity soon got the better of you and you booted up the game again, really sure that it would do something absolutely crazy but it never did. It ran like it always had with only that one file being completed.

So you deleted the file.

And nothing happened.

The next day, when you booted up the game, the file had simply returned as though you hadn’t deleted it in the first place. A similar thing occurred the next time. And the next.

Eventually you gave up and just started your own game. There, everything ran like it was meant to and you were beginning to think that your friends had all been imagining stuff. Maybe their paranoid got to them or something like that?

But eventually, the nightmares started. And they were bad.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during them. They were a swirling mess of games and glitches, horrible things spelled out in letters and blood covering everything. You would always wake up right when they seemed to be coming to a pivotal point. You’d find yourself dragged into a graveyard and then you’d wake up screaming

It was awful. You hardly got any sleep during them and they seemed to haunt you every night, keeping you up until the early hours of the morning.

But the worst only came when you didn’t wake up.

When you were dragged to the grave and looked down to see the ellipsis where the name should be. A punch to the gut that reminded you of what the game file was called. A confirmation of what was causing this dream.

You stared at it for ages before your eyes drifted up and you met his gaze. He was covered in blood, it leaked from every orifice and limb. It stained his dirty clothing even worse.

While you were staring, the world seemed to distort even though he didn’t. The game world melted away and your bedroom slowly reappeared.

It wasn’t until you saw car headlights move past your window – casting awful shadows across the room – that you realised you were no longer dreaming. He wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

The temperature in the room plummeted and you began to slowly reach for a weapon of some kind. He turned to look at what you were watching. His head tilted to the side and a glitch raced across his body before he vanished into thin air. Flicking on the lights didn’t show him hiding or cowering.

Perhaps your friends weren’t crazy after all.

Masky

“You know, if we had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened,” your sibling lectured. “We could be relaxing inside the car without having to worry about a bloody flash flood coming down from the sky.”

You shoved their back, forcing them to stumble a little as they went through the door. “Chances are the river’s going to burst its banks anyway. We would have been stuck in traffic for hours because the bridge is blocked off.”

“At least we would have been dry,” they muttered, running their fingers through their hair. “And not trapped inside an abandoned building.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over the rubble to settle down on a camping chair. “Don’t even start. This place has been a hangout for my friends and I for ages. There’s never been a single problem bigger than a few spiders.”

“Till a landlord shows up,” they scoffed.

“Then we’ll move to the forest,” you joked. “I’m sure there’s a good bear cave we can use.”

“I’m going to be an only child,” they said, rolling their eyes. Still, they made their way over and sat. “How long do you think we have until the storm dies down?”

You relaxed back into the chair and smiled up at the asbestos-filled ceiling. “From the sound of it, a while.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time you had taken a nap in the building. You were scared of giant cockroaches coming to eat you once. You had gotten used to it since then but this time when you woke up, you were uneasy.

Glancing around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Your sibling was snoring in the chair next to you and outside the rain was pounding the roof.

You sat upright. Sometimes was definitely wrong.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you got up from the chair and began walking as quietly as you could through the house. It had always been tiny and practically void of furniture, but the few rooms provided ample hiding spots.

Nothing but rubble was in most of the rooms but, in what you presumed had once been a bathroom, you found a person.

He had his back to you but when you pushed the door open to peer in, he spun around, his hand flying to his side. He was wearing a white mask, dark features etched onto it, and an orange jacket. A dark stain ran up the right side of it, emanating from under his hand. The oddness of his clothing made you immediately back away from the door, finger twitching on your cell phone in case you needed to call for help.

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

You were lost about what to say or do. The stain on his jacket was spreading and the more you stared at it, the more you became convinced it was blood. “Are you okay?” you finally managed to ask.

It took him a while to respond but then he nodded. The mask was unnerving you. You didn’t like not being able to see a person’s facial expressions.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but it really looks like you’re bleeding,” you said. “And quite badly. I can call for an ambulance or something although…” you turned your attention to the window behind his head. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to get anywhere with this weather.”

He stepped backward. “I’m fine,” he said, so soft you barely caught it. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

“It normally is,” you answered. “But we had to avoid the storm. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here also?”

“Yes,” he responded.

You waited or him to say something more, but all you got was silence. He had moved further away and now he had his back against the window. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to your sibling but you were unsure about turning your back on the strange man.

The mask made you scared he could stab you or something.

Somebody calling your name made you turn your head on instinct. Your sibling must have woken up and realised you were missing.

Quickly, you turned back to the man, but he had disappeared. Rain spat through the now open window.

Nurse Ann

Everybody always warned you about exploring old buildings. They would yell about how many things could injure or kill you. Stray animals, drug addicts, old equipment, and all that. You had heard just about every warning imaginable. Ghosts were pretty commonly mentioned also.

But killer nurse was a new one.

“Come on, just give me a little more information,” you nagged. “I’m going there whether you’re with me or not so you may as well just tell me what you’ve heard.”

Your friend (and partner in crime for most ventures) groaned. “It’s not much. They just say that she guards the place and if you get too close, she’ll run you off with a chainsaw. Some people have died from injuries they got while there. Let’s just give this one a miss, alright?”

But you were not in agreement at all.

“Maybe she’s cute though,” you teased.

They didn’t find that funny and you didn’t push them to come with you. So later that evening, you snuck in by yourself.

The hospital was old with crumbling walls and smashed windows. It was hidden from the public by means of a tall barbed-wire fence and a substantial distance of open garden. Nothing too extreme for you and definitely worth the potential items you’d find inside. When hospitals went under, they often left tons of awesome stuff just scattered around.

You’d never sold anything you found in your abandoned building dives. They were more collectables than anything else but they meant quite a bit to you.

There weren’t any signs of crazy nurses as you approached the place. Nobody came running at you with a chainsaw at least. You didn’t even find evidence of squatters who could sometimes pose some danger.

After deciding it was safe enough, you lifted yourself through one of the windows and began to explore.

Honestly, it was creepy. Everything was way too old to be worth collecting and there were too many unidentifiable stains for your liking. The water damage was bad. It looked like the ceiling was there for aesthetics only and several rooms creaked too much for you to comfortably cross them.

And that was even without the awkward feeling of being watched.

You told yourself that it was just superstition but you couldn’t shake it. Every few seconds saw you looking over your shoulder in anticipation. It distracted you from keeping your eye on the path in front of you and the loud crack reached your ears too late.

The floor gave out and you fell through. Your shoulder hit some kind of metal object as you landed in the room below. Painful shocks ripped through your body and your head knocked against the floor with a heavy thud.

Stars danced in front of your vision and you raised your hand to the top of your head. Blood coated your hand when you lowered it to look.

Shit.

Shakily, you tried to pull yourself up but quickly found that your arm was too sore. Instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket and sent off the emergency text to your friend.

The world faded to black not long after that.

When you woke up next, you were in your room with a bandage wrapped around your head. You had felt like absolute crap but still gotten up to thank them for the save. They had nodded and warned you to be more careful, happy that you had been outside the hospital so they didn’t have to look for too long.

Before you could even think about how you had crawled there, they asked how you had managed to do your own stitches so nicely.

Puppeteer

Your camera was on 10% battery.

Grumbling, you shoved it into your bag and cursed your past self for forgetting to put it on charge. In order to get the best sunrise photos, you had found yourself waking up earlier and earlier. It was tiring but it was worth it… most of the time.

You just hoped that at least one of your pictures was usable but you could only check on them once you got home.

The streetlight above your head flickered as you walked past. It wasn’t unusual but when you were the only person awake for miles around, it was awfully creepy.

Putting your hands into your jacket pockets, you continued strolling back home. The neighborhood had never been dangerous and despite living in the area for your entire life, no incidents made you want to stop walking around at night.

Deciding that you wanted to take a precautionary shot, you headed for your neighbour’s house first. They had an arch covered in jasmine flowers that made for some perfectly safe photos and they never minded your presence.

After making your way there and getting a few photos, you were treated to the fright of your life when their began howling and barking. It wasn’t aimed at you but you didn’t like the noise regardless.

As you rounded the corner of the house, planning on racing back to your own home, you encountered the dog’s target.

A man – cloaked in the darkness and barely illuminated by the streetlight – opening one of the windows with ease. Irritated by the dog, he didn’t notice you until your finger twitched around the shutter of your camera. There was a flash.

His head snapped up and you screamed.

The man’s complexation was literally grey. He wasn’t just ill, he was the colour of storm clouds. Golden eyes with no pupils glared at you and froze you in place. Whatever he was, this man was the furthest thing from human.

Your scream woke your neighbors. The sound of movement began coming from inside the house.

He abandoned the window, stalking towards you. The air tingled like it was expecting a lightning storm. Golden tendrils grew from his fingertips and shot towards you. They had you pinned in an instant.

You struggled against them and opened your mouth to scream again but they wrapped around your head, forcing your jaw shut.

This was how you died… tears spilled down your cheeks at the realization. You were going to be an unsolved murder. All you hoped was you got a good picture of him.

Your neighbor’s front door opened and great dane let out an ear-splitting bark as he raced toward you.

The man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, released you to face the dog. He let it approach before vanishing into a cloud of smoke as its jaws reached him.

“What was that?” the timid voice brought you back into reality.

“It was trying to get into your house,” you said. “I screamed when I saw it and then it grabbed me.” Your voice changed to a whimper as reality hit you. You nearly died.

The small child of the house came over to hug your leg. “I’m sure Puppet didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “He always comes to visit but he doesn’t like it when people make noise. You shouldn’t scream when you see him again.”

You made eye-contact with the parents and they wore expressions of horror at their daughter’s words.

“Puppet?” you asked in a small voice.

She nodded rapidly. “He says he stops by because he likes watching people. I think that he’s watching us all right now! But he can hide in the shadows too well.”

“I’m going to go and call the police,” somebody said.

You weren’t all too focused. The feeling of being watched grew heavier and you clutched tightly at the camera in your hands.

Slenderman

You couldn’t tell if they were being serious. You hoped that they were joking. They weren’t genuinely going to…

“No,” you stated.

The two younger children both turned to look at you simultaneously. Guilt flashed across their faces as though they weren’t aware you were listening. It was as though you were asked to babysit them because you didn’t pay attention. These two should have realised that by now.

“Do you think all the stories are true?” the boy asked. “I think that they are. One of my friends said she saw a huge dog in the forest and then it ran away after eating a whole cow!”

“No way!” his twin sister shouted. “Dogs don’t eat cows, so it can’t be true!”

You put on your best intimidating expression and crossed your arms. “I don’t care if they’re true or not. There is absolutely no chance that either of you are going to go running off into the woods with bears, wolves and all kinds of other creatures.”

The two children glanced at each other and bolted for the tree line before you could grab their shirts.

Thankfully your legs were longer even if they had a head start and you managed to catch up pretty quickly. Once you caught the boy and picked him up with ease, the girl dashed behind a tree.

“Can we please just leave?” you asked nicely. “If we forget about the forest adventure thing, I promise I won’t tell your parents and I’ll get you ice cream.”

The boy was trying his hardest to get out of your hold. You were starting to think babysitting didn’t pay enough.

“I don’t want ice cream,” the girl said. “I want to go and find a unicorn.”

She darted off into the forest and you let out a deep groan. Shifting the boy’s weight over your one hip, you started walking after her. If you wanted to give chase via running, you would have to put the kid down and trust him to follow or stay.

It was obvious that wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take you too long to find the girl. Mostly because she had stopped in the middle of a weird grove in the trees. She was just staring off into the dark shadows beyond it.

As you approached her, static popped in your ears. You shook your head in an effort to displace it but the closer you got, the louder it became.

The child in your arms whimpered, clutching his head.

You softly called her name and then it appeared. It was a man-like monster, standing just in the shadows of the trees. Easily over 7ft tall and insanely thin with no facial features. Your heart jumped into your throat and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

Without taking your eyes off it, you reached out a hand and fumbled around until you grabbed the girl’s shirt.

The static was getting louder and louder. You tried to shut it out as you started moving backwards, tugging the child along after you. She wasn’t willing to move her legs. She was entranced but whether by fear or magic, you couldn’t tell.

And then it was much closer.

You stumbled in fright, letting go of the girl’s shirt and landing on your ass. The boy fell on top of you but scrambled away and hide in the bushes within the blink of an eye. You sent a silent prayer to him to run back home to the other adults.

Once again, the creature was stationary but now the static was growing to such a volume that you could imagine your ears were starting to bleed.

You reached out for the girl again slowly, but something wrapped around your leg and yanked you into the air.

It took almost a full second for you to realise that the screaming ringing in your ears was you. Whatever was holding you tightened and whipped your body through the air. It was like your leg was being ripped away.

Then you were falling.

It was some feat of luck that you managed to twist your body, so you didn’t land on your head. You lay there for a while before something poking your back made you unbury your face.

The twins were staring at you with wide eyes and the monster was nowhere in sight.

“What was –“ you couldn’t finish.

“Slenderman,” they said in perfect sync.

Splendorman

Another stop…

You couldn’t help yourself. Every time you walked past one of the posters fluttering lightly in the wind you had to stop and stare at it.

A few days ago, your dog, your beautiful and sweet puppy, had disappeared from your house without a trace. The missing posters were depressing reminders that he wasn’t home. It hadn’t taken long for your mind to spiral into the negative thoughts about how close the road was.

Damn your coworkers. One of the had suggested the road in the first place and while they hadn’t intended anything malicious, it was definitely not helping your fears.

The dog had been with you through thick and through thin… if it was dead, you may as well have lost a close family member.

Hanging your head, you dragged your eyes away from the poster and kept walking.

People bumped into you, but it was your fault. You refused to look up in case another poster distracted you. Getting home before the sun set was your only focus now.

You had tried going out and searching in all the places where your dog once spent time to no avail. Always willing to try again, you chose to drop off your bags and head out later that evening when you ran out of distractions.

As you walked through the gates in front of your house, a gust of air gently messed up your hair. A gust of wind suspiciously similar to a laugh.

Your logical mind told you it came from the street, but something made you stop in your tracks.

The walls around your property towered. There’s no possibility that somebody could be in your garden. To try and scale one of the walls, they would have been in full view of your neighbours who would have undoubtedly called the cops.

“You’re sad,” the wind whispered before you could brush off your suspicion.

Spinning wildly, you searched around for the source. You backed up until your entrance gate was behind you. You could run down to the main street with ease if you could just get your fumbling fingers to unlock things.

“Don’t run,” the wind said, this time blowing from a separate direction. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know why you’re upset.”

Is this what going insane was? Nobody around and the wind was talking to you. You had always feared losing your mind and now it was happening.

“I’m real,” the wind said. “I’m hiding because I’ll scare you if you see me.”

“I’m going mad,” you muttered, shaking your head. “If this is somebody pulling a prank on me I swear….”

The wind quietened for a bit and then it picked up again, ruffling your hair as it spoke. “If I show myself, it’ll prove that you’re not going crazy, but I don’t want to make it worse by frightening you… you’re so sad already.”

“I lost my best friend and people have been telling me he’s most likely dead,” you hissed. “Obviously I’m not in the best mood. Now I’m losing my fucking mind and talking to air.”

The atmosphere around you dropped, like it does moments before lightning strikes. You glanced at the sky in confusion. As expected, no clouds in sight.

You lowered your gaze and a 7ft tall creature covered in bright polka dots stood in front of your house.

Once you screamed, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” the wind said. “I knew I would scare you, but I had hoped it would show you that I’m not imaginary. I’m just trying to help.”

The gate finally opened behind you and you stumbled backwards through it, your heart sitting in your throat. A monster was in your house and it was probably going to kill you. Spinning on your heel, you took off full speed back towards the main street.

You were fully expecting it to give chase now that you hadn’t fallen for its claims of harmlessness but it didn’t.

Instead you reached the main road and only got a few strange looks because of how much you were shaking. Nothing followed you.

The wind picked up once more. “I’ll try and help,” it promised.

People walking around you should have heard it as well but none of them so much as blinked.

Ticci Toby

While you had been told that a noise limit for the forest existed, your laughter refused to cooperate. It rang through the trees and probably chased off all the animals nearby. A picnic out in a national forest was a fantastic way to reconcile with nature and to scare it all away.

With eleven people in your picnic party, chances of any creatures coming into view were already slim though so you didn’t worry too much.

“We didn’t bring nearly enough fruit,” you muttered as you dug in the basket.

“Excuse you, I brought a whole watermelon but you ate it,” somebody answered your grumble. “If you want fruit, it is spring. Go and forage for some berries.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going to go out by myself in the middle of the one season where bears are irritable as fuck. I know I sometimes act a little impulsively, but I don’t exactly have a wish to die at the claws of a grumpy teddy.”

Your friend leaned towards you. “Is that so? What if we split into teams and made a bet? Loser has to take a dip in the river.”

“A bet?” you asked. “I’m interested.”

She grinned and snapped her fingers. “Okay, there are eleven people so I’m feeling groups of two with one impartial party as a judge. We should be fine if we make enough noise and stick within close vicinity to each other. See how many berries we can gather?”

Tipping out the picnic basket’s contents, you smirked and pushed it into her chest. “Oh, I hope you brought a swimming costume.”

Everybody teamed up with ease and grabbed one of the many containers lying on the blanket. You headed out with your partner and gave a wink to the other teams. All you needed was to find one good bush first and you had it won.

“We should split up,” your partner said. “Cover more ground.”

You nodded. “We meet up back here once we’ve found a good bush,” you agreed. “And we shout if we find any animals.”

Obviously, your plans hadn’t involved losing your footing almost directly after the two of you split.

Tumbling down the small hill, you tried your hardest to protect yourself from the bushes as you went through them. At some point, you lost your basket and by the time you had finally rolled to a stop, you had no idea where it was.

Grumbling, you stood up and started searching until something dark caught your eye. Thinking it was your basket, you made your way over.

The clearing you walked into housed a scene you could never have imagined.

A dead bear lay slumped against a tree, its fur being what had caught your eye earlier. A hatchet buried in its neck was spilling blood onto the floor around it. All that hardly compared to the man leaning against a tree.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

His head immediately snapped up, allowing you to see that he was wearing a mouth guard and a pair of goggles. Blood seeped from between his fingers where they clutched against his chest, but he hardly noticed. A hatchet was hanging from his belt.

Suddenly, you were wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

He stared at you blankly for a while, an occasional twitch minorly affecting his body. Reaching up, he took off his mouthguard. “I can’t feel any pain,” he said. “So, I’m fine. Why are y-you out here? The hiking trail is far.” He struggled with one of the words, seeming to hiccup a little on it.

“I was searching for berries and I slipped down a hill,” you answered. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like you got into a fight with a bear. Your shirt is all bloody.”

“I did fight a bear,” he laughed, gesturing to it. “I won.”

Your eyes grew wider. “I think you should get to a hospital. What’s your name? I can call somebody for you and we’ll get you medical attention.”

“Toby,” he said. “That’s my name. What’s yours?”

You gave him your full name and pulled out your phone. “My friends are close by,” you said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here to help soon.”

When you raised your attention from your phone, he had disappeared and so had the hatchet from the bear’s neck.

Trenderman

Work was hard. It made your feet ache, it made your back click and crack, and it felt like the problems would never end.

Would you give up working in the fashion industry? Not a chance.

Your boss walked past where you were calming down an irate customer over the phone and dropped the keys to the front of the building in front of you. “Close up for me,” she mouthed as she left.

Nodding, you moved them to the side of the desk where they couldn’t be lost.

Once you had finished calming the customer, you glanced around to check how many people were left in the room. Three still working and one in the process of leaving. You were technically going into overtime at this point, but you didn’t mind.

There was a reason you were promoted so quickly.

“We need to set up cameras!” one of the floor managers snapped, storming into the office. She marched straight over to your desk and glowered at you. “I put this request in a week ago.”

Scrolling through the documents, you quickly opened the file. “I see but it looks like it’s been bumped due to a shipment malfunction, I’ll flag it. What’s the problem?”

“Customers or members of staff are moving items around and throwing things out without warning. We need to catch the culprits!” she snapped.

“What has been thrown out?” you asked. “I’ll add it into the information.”

The woman started listing quicker than you could type. “I’ve found crocs, toeless thigh-high boots, bellbottomed jeans, coloured faux fur jackets, luminous lipstick, w-necks, and jeggings all in vast numbers in the trash can. Every time I put them out on shelves, they disappear again.”

It took everything in you not to snort. “I’ll mark this vital.”

She stalked off and you went back to inputting the shipping requirements. You were meant to be organising what was coming in for the latest line and subtly omitting anything that wouldn’t sell well enough.

Slowly but surely, your co-workers trickled out of the office after finishing off their daily tasks. You kept going, trying to make sure you could have a longer break the next day.

Finally, when the sun had already set, you relented and started getting ready to go home.

You sung as you finished packing up for the day. Being the last one in the building (thus having to lock up) made you a little more confident as you danced around getting everything together. You slung your bag over your shoulder and happily trotted over to the door.

It made you so happy that your boss entrusted you to be the last one around. She was so hyper-protective of company secrets that you were proud of yourself for winning her over.

Your talent with people was something you attributed to dealing with painful customers.

As you passed through the store-part of the business you stopped to rearrange a mannequin. Every morning when you came in, you always noticed something had been changed with this specific one. You figured you could move something small and see if it would be a good place to set up a hidden camera.

Though you weren’t expecting it to suddenly grab your arm.

“You may be one of the few workers here with good taste, but I advise you don’t try and change my outfit,” it said. It didn’t have a mouth, but the words rang in your head, nevertheless.

You screamed and pulled away, tearing your arm from its grip. Shelves were knocked over and clothing was sent flying as you tried to escape.

The mannequin just watched you as you fumbled madly for the door.

The glass rattled in the frame from how hard you slammed it shut behind you. You sped off down the street, moving faster than you ever had before. You collapsed on your lawn by the time you reached the house, taking deep breaths.

Nothing had followed you. Everything was okay.

With shaking fingers, you dialed your boss’ number and told her you would be taking a sick day. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going anywhere near there again.

Not to mention the mess you made… you were definitely getting fired.

[random-imaginess]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I hope it was perfect!

Can I request a Bucky x reader where she is feeling scared to go out in the world post covid and Bucky is just cute and supportive?

Thank you! It was a fairly good day! I read this request yesterday and thought how fitting it was because I have spent a lot of time thinking about situations like this! A LOT of time..

This gif, to me, makes it seem like this is going to be more angsty than it actually will be, but it's gonna be cute and fluffy and it's gonna be ok! I didn't want to go too much into some stuff, even though having anxiety and concerns and doubts and a bunch of thoughts about a world post covid is VERY REAL, I just wanted to try and make this light-hearted and cute. I hope I was able to do that!

The past year and a half had been a wild one, to say the least. There was anxieties about the virus outbreak, anxieties about the lock down that was only supposed to last a couple weeks, then six weeks, then a couple months... You were used to wearing masks when you absolutely needed to go out for food and supplies, talking about how great it was going to be when life would go back to normal.

What was normal, though? It hadn't felt normal in so long that you weren't sure what normal was anymore. You were fortunate enough to have Bucky at your side through all of it. Keeping you company, keeping you sane. Talking about what you were going to do first when things opened back up again, wondering what it was going to be like when it was all over. "What about the beach?!" You explained excitedly. "The smell of the ocean, the wind in our hair, the seagulls flying overhead, the warm sand! Oh, it'll be so incredible! We should go there first!." Bucky just grimaced. "The beach? The sticky, salty feeling you get on your skin, the sand, seagulls shitting on your towel, dive bombing you for your food, the SAND getting in places you didn't know it could get into, and you're washing that shit out for weeks after... I don't know."

You groaned playfully, thought you really didn't care where you went. "Fine, you big baby, no beach." You smiled as you rolled over to your stomach to look at him, propping your elbows up on the mattress. It was a lazy afternoon, the millionth lazy afternoon so far since you've been stuck inside. You couldn't complain too much, though, being with Bucky, no matter what you did, was always your favorite thing to do. He stared up at the ceiling as his flesh hand found a spot to rest on your back, a smirk forming across his face as he thought of other places you could go when it was all over. "What about museums? Art galleries? We could go to that space one in Los Angeles," he offered, and your face lighting up with more excitement. "Ooh, yeah! That would be so fun! Look through the giant telescopes and see how much you would weight on mars!" He laughed at made eye contact with you, thinking how adorable it was that you got excited about the smallest things. "Or we could go to the grand canyon, or Hawaii! Or... the movies! How long as it been since you've been to a movie theater? Eating buttery popcorn and chocolate candy while watching a funny movie that makes you laugh so hard your sides hurt? Or one so sad it makes you cry?" Now Bucky readjusted himself and turned to his side, propping himself on him elbow, a light smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "We've been watching movies every day for the past six weeks, I don't think there's anything left we haven't already seen." "I know, but the experience is so different when you watch it on a giant screen." Your hands subconsciously ran patterns against his soft skin, reminiscing about everything there was to do before the whole world closed up. "We'll do it all, baby," Bucky smiled and leaned forward to place a kiss on your forehead. "We'll do the beach, we'll do museums, movies, theme parks, tropical paradises, we'll go anywhere around the world you wanna go." You grinned at his words. "Even Norway?" "Even Norway," he smiled, looking lovingly at you. Now the time was here, when things were opening back up again, and rules were less strict, and every plan you had talked about doing together was becoming more and more accessible. It should have been exciting. You were finally able to see more than just every nook and cranny in your house and the inside of grocery stores, but you were scared. Breaking out of the bubble that you had built for yourself to keep you and those around you safe, it was now a weird feeling to try and break out of it. To get back into the routine of every day life that you gave no second thought to before everything changed. You and Bucky had finally agreed on starting your adventures with a simple day out. Getting lunch, now that more restaurants were open for dine in, maybe some window shopping, a leisurely walk through the park, or whatever else you felt like doing. But you were hesitant to go through with it. The anxiety of being around more people was getting to you. In the back of your mind you knew you were going to be OK, but it was the fact of not knowing that made you second-guess your decision to leave the house. It was been a weighing thought for the past few weeks leading up to you going out. Now that it was finally here, it was all too real. Bucky had picked up on your hesitancy, but didn't want to push you until you were ready to bring it up yourself. And you wanted to tell him about it, you just didn't know how to properly form it. It felt a little silly to be so scared. The unknown always got the better of you, made you doubt, and added more anxiety than was necessary, but it's just how you were.

The closer it got to you leaving, the heavier your chest became. "I think maybe we should wait for a different day to go out.." You blurted out, picking at the skin on your thumb. Bucky looked at you and grabbed your hand to get you to stop, knowing if he didn't, you'd just do it until it bled. "You don't want to go anymore?" "I do, I just think maybe it's still too early to be around crowds, you know? There's going to be more people without masks, or if they'll get aggressive for being asked to wear one... we won't know if they're vaccinated yet or whatever... I think we should wait. Just a little longer. Is that Okay?" "Of course it is. You know I'd never want to you in a situation that makes you uncomfortable." You nodded. "I do know that, I just... I feel silly, like I'm making this a bigger deal than it actually is, but I can't bring myself to go out there and pretend like everything is normal when it's not." He placed a gentle hand on the side of your face. "Well, I don't think we have to pretend anything is normal. We know it's not. But I think we need to be open to the idea of a new normal. It's not going to be something we can be ok with over night, though, but gradually." He rubbed his hands gently up and down your arms. "There's nothing wrong with your feelings about it, okay? Please don't feel like you're being irrational about wanting to wait. It's perfectly OK to wait. We can do something here, or go to our spot, have a little picnic.. we can do anything you want." You looked up at him and smiled, grateful that you had such an incredible, understanding man in your life. "A picnic sounds perfect. Fresh air would be perfect." "Alright," he smiled. "Let's have a picnic." You wrapped your arms around him for a hug, being engulfed in his secure embrace, and gave him a kiss on the lips, taking a moment to really appreciate how much it meant to you to have Bucky in your life. In a time of uncertainly, he always made you feel safe and heard, and you couldn't ask for anything better than that.

[widows-writings]

Happy Ending

Battinson Bruce Wayne x OC

Chapter 5

chpt 1. chpt 2. chpt 3. chpt 4.

Summary: An old friend of Bruce’s comes back after being gone for over 20 years. She was kidnapped, created into a weapon. When Talia loses her home and almost her life, she moves in with Alfred and Bruce. Talia decides to take sides with Batman to figure out more about who was trying to kill her, which blurs the lines between the secret life that both Bruce and Talia share. After finding out his secret of who he was and what he knew, Talia finds herself, living the life that she wanted, away from all these secrets. A life with Bruce Wayne. A life where they are happy and Gotham is what it should have been. The thing is, it’s not a fantasy and it’s not real life, it’s somewhere in between. Bruce has to try and get to her as both himself and as Batman before the people that are trying to kill Talia complete their goal.

A/N: I'm back with another chapter. This time we spend more time with Bruce than Talia. I might die for a couple of days after this, but in that time I'm going to be writing, I'm going to be working on this, but quite seriously I need reader feedback. I just need to know what you guys think. Reblogs, likes and replies are always appreciated. I'm sure you'll be able to tell that there is a shift in how I wanted to tell the story in this chapter compared to the previous chapters. This is where I stopped dicking around and was like 'this is how I'm going to do this'. Am I going to explain my thought process? No. Just know that pain is just right around the corner. Well, this story is nothing but pain, and I'm very very sorry.

Warnings: Cursing, alluding to torture, trauma, kidnapping, if there is anything else, please let me know.

Words: 2,909

Bruce’s POV

Hours passed and finally Bruce went back to the place that he swore Talia had died in. He landed the Batplane (it was the best name that he could come up with on the fly, and it just stuck) on the roof and powered it down. He had no idea that someone was trying to kill Talia and that she was staying in Wayne Tower right now. He was here to figure out what the extent of her powers were and how they might either affect her or the people around her.

The way that everything was playing out, it felt like there was something missing, almost like Talia was holding back. When she showed him her powers, there was little to no effort expressed on her part, which told Bruce that she had the powers longer than she wanted to admit. He could understand why she was scared to tell him anything about her and what happened here, but he wanted her to be open with him. They had been friends so long ago. Maybe he was holding onto something that was fake and no longer there, but he wanted to know if she was okay and if she would be able to recover from all that happened to her. He wanted her to be okay. He wanted his friend back.

Bruce found his way in through a hole in the ceiling, Jumping onto what is the highest floor. There was scorch marks everywhere, it was almost all black. The place had been blown to bits. He was surprised it was still standing. He looked around and wasn’t able to find a lot that he could use, but the more he searched, he was able to find something that was still standing and had no holes in it. The door was locked, so he jiggled the handle a little bit before backing up a bit and kicked down the door. Inside was perfect, pristine. It hadn’t been touched by the flames. 

The room was massive, there was a desk in the center and a large screen by a window, which was covered with steel. Bruce walked over to the computer, bumped the mouse and the screen turned on. Including the screen that was by the window. On the big screen, faces popped up. Almost all of them were grayed out. There were very few photos that weren’t. From what he could conclude, they were all of the ones that were alive. Talia was one of them. He clicked on the small text that was her name. In here she wasn’t called Talia, she was 56. She was just a number.

When he clicked on her name, documents appeared. They were labeled test days. He sat down in the chair that was behind the desk and he watched, he read everything that was there. He learned what she could do and what had happened to her. It was worse than he thought. He forced himself to take in everything that happened here, all of the assaults, all of the training and all of the tests. Everything that he saw changed how he saw Talia and who she was. Over the course of her being here, she changed. She became a killer, she became someone he didn’t know. He wanted to throw the computer across the room. All of this happened to her and he didn’t know, he had just believed them when they had said that she died. The video in the background was one of Talia in the fighting ring. The cries that she made were horrific. He clenched his fists as he heard her crying. She was muttering prayers to whatever god could hear her. His eyes watered, but no tears fell. 

Bruce took off the cowl and buried his face in his hands. The only thing that he could hear was the sounds of blows landing and Talia screaming for help. Then it all stopped. He wiped what tears were there away and looked at the screen. Talia was standing there, all of the men that had been beating on her surrounding her, choking as her powers were chords around their necks. A couple of minutes passed before she had something injected into her neck and she fell. Two seconds later the men fell. The video cut off and there was a document to read. When he looked at the time, it was just a few days before Talia showed up in Gotham. 

There was one more video, but it was just her looking into the camera before sparks littered the feed and this one went out too. The document attached only read she finally became the weapon we wanted. We didn’t anticipate that she was going to turn against us. It was the last thing that He read before her files came to an end. He had been here for god knows how long. He could see the sun rising again through the massive hole in the ceiling just outside where he was. Bruce stood from the chair and left the room, grabbing his cowl. He walked where it wasn’t extremely unstable, looking into the rooms, looking at the training ring, the dining hall, and the poor excuse of a common area that didn’t look like it was touched at all.

After gathering what information he could, he went back to his plane and sat in the cockpit, throwing the cowl on the floor of the plane. His jaw was clenched so hard that it was on the verge of giving him a headache. He could feel the tears running down his cheeks, but there wasn’t anything that he could do about it. He was too late. He didn’t save her. He didn’t keep his damn promise. He didn’t fucking help her. He wasn’t there for her. Talia had been tortured, tested and preyed upon, praying to whatever god could hear her and nobody had helped her. He could tell why she was pissed at everyone, especially those who knew what was happening. He was surprised at her restraint, not hurting Christopher when she found out that he knew. That told Bruce that there was something still good in her. 

He started the plane, shaking his head so his jaw loosened and he was able to focus on getting back to Gotham. When he got back to his home city. Two whole days had passed. 48 hours. He had been gone way too long, but when he got to Gotham, he was able to land his plane in the dark and get changed into normal clothing. When he got to the batcave, Alfred was already there, waiting for him. He was surprised to see that Bruce wasn’t wearing the cowl, but he didn’t ask any questions as Bruce got situated and put everything together before heading to the elevator.

“Bruce, I have to tell you. Talia is here.”

“What? Why?”

“Someone tried to kill her and Christopher. They succeeded with Christpher, but not Talia. I brought her here for safe keeping.”

“How is she doing?” 

Gods, if someone was trying to kill her, what he was digging into was bigger than just the base that he went to. There were people still alive, still itching to get to Talia, make her into the killing machine that they wanted her to be. He saw what they were making her into and he saw as she did everything that they asked. She followed their orders. It was the first time that Bruce was questioning if he should even be trusting her. He took in a deep breath and unlatched the cape from the suit and laid it on the chair that was next to him.

“She’s doing okay, though, might I say, she’s been locked up in her room. She’s barely talking to me. I’m hoping she’ll say something to you.”

“Alfred, you know I’m not good at talking.” Bruce sighed.

“She needs a familiar face and right now that is you. I’m worried about her, more than I was before. I’m worried about what losing Christopher might do to her.”

“Are you worried she’s going to end up like me? Fighting crime at night, getting beat up?” There was some hurt in Bruce’s voice. 

“I’m worried she’s going to be killed. If she’s not careful, she could end up dead on the street, fighting for her life.” 

There was silence. Bruce slowly took off the armor, putting it on the table. Alfred helped him get the suit off and then Alfred left Bruce alone in the cave to let him journal what he needed and get everything printed and sorted. There was a lot from the base that Talia was kept. From what Bruce gathered on the computer, there were more girls, more people that had been taken and trained by these people. Either they had been given up by their parents or they didn’t have anyone else to watch over them. A chunk of the kids were from Gotham. Bruce knew that the parents here that weren’t rich struggled with supporting their kids and keeping their family alive. It made him sick looking at all the photos of the children that had been trafficked across the world. 

He was down there for hours, watching the screen, printing things out, writing things down, watching the feed over and over again trying to see if there was anything that he could pull from the data that he had collected. It felt like he was constructing a case against one of his oldest friends, but he didn’t know if he could call her that. She had been gone so long that he didn’t even know who she was. He wanted to know, he wanted to get to know her again, but there was the issue of Batman getting in the way. If he was to get to know her again, she was going to figure out his secret life sooner than later and he knew that it was going to tear her apart. She was already so angry about being kidnapped and Christopher not doing anything to help her. If she found out that he knew about it even just as recently as a couple of years ago, he knew that she wasn’t going to take it well. 

Talia’s POV

She was in the room that Alfred had gotten all set up for her. She was training, again. Alfred had told her that she shouldn’t go on walks until she knew that she was going to be safe, but what he didn’t know was that she was sneaking outside at night to get some fresh air, to get familiar with Gotham again. Not much had changed since she had last been here. There were several stores that were still there the last time she had walked the streets and there were several new ones. Talia was also finding out that crime was a lot worse than it was before, it was sickening to hear people scream and guns firing all the time, but even after a couple of days, she was able to drown it out. 

The sun was setting yet again as she stopped doing her sit-ups, she watched from the window of her room, standing and getting ready to go out on her walk. She was still wearing Bruce’s clothing, so she looked a lot less threatening than she actually was. She couldn’t tell if it was a bonus or not, but nothing had happened to her yet. She put on the sweatshirt that she had gotten yesterday just because she said that she was cold, and she pulled her hair back into a messy bun. 

She left her room and noticed that Alfred was in the main room, watching television. He was almost on the verge of sleep, so she tried her best not to wake him. She slipped past the main room and down the stairs. Right before she opened the door, she heard the elevator whirring to life. Bruce was back. She wanted to stay and talk to him, but she was itching to get out on her walk. She kept calling it that, but she knew what it really was. She was searching for some sort of sign of who tried to kill her and successfully killed Christopher. Alfred said hello to Bruce, there was a grunt in return. Then it was quiet. 

Talia opened the door with her magic and slipped out, leaving the building. The doorman wished her a good walk and she waved in return. When she got outside, she was met again with the ugly smell of Gotham City. She took in a deep breath and let her shoulders drop. She tucked her hands into the pocket on the hoodie and started on her walk. 

It was quiet, it was lonely, it was what Talia needed. She could hear laughter, cheering, the noise that came with being around bars and clubs. She took in another deep breath and stopped outside of one bar. There was a sports game on, though she couldn’t tell what it was specifically. She didn’t watch much sports, considering…it made her laugh. How out of touch she was with the rest of the world. She continued walking, passing alley after alley. She heard shuffling in one and she stopped to look. There wasn’t anything there that she could see, so she continued walking. She got one step in, then her arm was grabbed.

There was a knife pressed to her throat. She could smell, piss, shit, vomit, almost any bodily fluid that she could think of right off the bat. She was slammed up against a wall and the blade nicked her skin. The man was taller than her, stronger than her, and smelled like a pig sty. He had barely any teeth and his breath was laced with so much liquor that Talia almost got drunk from being face to face with him.

“Give me all of your money. Anything valuable.” He hissed.

“I don’t have anything. Honest.” She took her hands out of her pockets and showed him that she didn’t have anything.

“Any rings? Any jewelry?” He asked. 

“I told you, I have nothing, I’m just like you.”

Those words made him lower his blade and let go of her. He shrugged his shoulders and looked like he was going to walk away, then his fist came flying at her face, and it hit her square in the nose. Her head snapped back and hit the wall behind her. She could feel blood coming from her nose and there was a pounding on the back of her head. She raised her hand to touch the back of her head, there was a warm liquid on her fingers. She clenched her jaw from the pain and looked at the man that was still ready for a fight. Talia raised her hands, showing that she didn’t want a fight, but the man didn’t take that as an answer. 

He kneed her in the stomach and kicked her again and again, so hard that she almost vomited. He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her up to her knees and hit her again, square in the nose again. Talia gasped for air as blood poured down her face into her mouth. She raised her hands to get him to remove his from her hair. He let her go and she fell on her hands and knees. She coughed up some more blood and spat it on the ground. From that she stood up, wobbly from all the hits that she took. 

“Okay, well, maybe I lied, a little bit.” She said, her hands glowing with blue mist. “I’m not like you. I’m much worse.” 

She put the man’s hands behind his back and his ankles together, holding him in midair. There was a rush of clothing and someone landed in front of her, holding her hands by the wrists. It was Batman. She hadn’t seen him since she had first gotten into Gotham. There was a look in his eyes that told her to stop what she was doing. She let the man go, hearing him drop to the ground. He rushed away, looking back in terror, hoping that she wasn’t going to follow him.

Batman took her chin in his pointer and thumb, looking at her nose and face. He let out a heavy sigh and let her face drop. He shoved past her, leaving the alleyway.

“What, so you just stop me and walk away? Wow, some vengeance you are.” She muttered. 

That stopped him in his tracks. She ran her fingers over her nose and noticed it was broken. She took in a deep breath and set it back. The pain was almost just as blinding as getting it broken. She took a couple steps back, putting her hands on her knees, spitting blood onto the ground. 

“What were you going to do to him?”

“I wasn’t going to kill him if that’s what you’re asking.” She stood up and looked at the figure that was in front of her. “I thought that you were going to be..more..more than this.” 

“Is that why you’re out here? Hunting for me?”

“I wouldn’t say hunting, per-say.” She paused, putting her hands in her pockets. “I want to join you. I want to be a part of your vengeance.”

Taglist: @hollandorks @theheathenhedgewitch @victoriaanneemslieauthor

[yamigooops]

Break My Heart

pairing: oikawa x gn!y/n genre: pure angst warnings: just angst really, I just wanted to write something sad lol words: ~2k

“Tell me you've never loved me Tell me that it wasn't real Just say you've found somebody else I wanna know the way it feels (Break my heart)” - Break My Heart by Hey Violet

a/n - time to break all your hearts, this had me tearing up while writing so hopefully it does the same to you so I'm not the only one hurting >:')

You were done, you’d had more than enough. You lay in bed, alone, for the fourth night in a row, waiting for your boyfriend of two and a half years to come home, and you were sick of it. Reaching over to turn on the light beside the bed, you picked up your phone to check the time. Almost 2 am. He should have been home an hour ago at the very latest.

With a huff, you threw the sheets off your body, sitting up. You rested your forehead in your hands, elbows braced against your knees. What else could you do? You’d told him so many times you’d lost track that he needed to try harder, that you needed more from him if this relationship was going to work. But he always brushed you off, assuring you that things would get better.

But they weren’t.

You sent a text to your best friend, knowing they’d be up at this time anyway, and asked if you could come to spend the night. You wanted him to know how it felt to go to fall asleep in an empty bed, just like you had done so often lately. Receiving an affirmative text from your friend, you rose and started to pack a bag for tomorrow.

Your mind raced. Did he even want to be in this relationship anymore? Did you? He had been putting in the minimum effort as of late, spending the vast majority of his time at training or going out with his friends and teammates. It seemed he had more time for everyone other than you, and you weren’t sure you could take it anymore. You almost wanted him to end it, almost wanted to get in a fight about it just to have him show anything other than nonchalance about the situation.

You had been so lost in your thoughts you hadn’t heard him come in, unaware of his presence until he opened the bedroom door. “Y/N? What are you doing up so late?” The smooth silk of his voice shocked you in the silence of the room, making you whirl around to face him.

There he was, Oikawa, in all his glory. His tanned skin bore a sheen of sweat, and his chocolate hair was mussed, from the wind or something else you had no clue. He looked worn out, though that could have been from practice or going out to the club. You wouldn’t know, since this was the first you’d seen of him since he left this morning to go to practice.

You clutched the sweatshirt you were holding to your chest, subconsciously shrinking back from the tall man. You weren’t expecting him to come home until after you had left, now it would be all that much harder to leave. “Um, hi Oikawa,” you muttered, taking a deep breath. “I’m going over to Y/F/N’s place for the night.” You were surprised you got the words out, almost caving at the thought of getting to spend even a little time with your boyfriend, even if it was at two in the morning.

“Why would you do that?” He cocked his head, looking genuinely confused. A small pout formed on his features, and you could tell he was genuinely a bit upset about it.

“Well, I-“ you broke off, not knowing what to say. “We were talking, and they invited me over, and since you weren’t back yet I thought I would go,” you lied. You weren’t sure why you did though, the angry part of you said you should have just told him flat out that you were upset with him. But the peacemaker in you won out, unwilling to cause a fight where it wasn’t necessary.

“But it’s a weeknight, why wouldn’t you just wait until the weekend? Don’t you have work in the morning?” He set his gym bag down on the bed, unzipping it to remove his dirty clothes from practice.

You gulped, mind flying as you came up with a cover. “They, uh, they’re having a bit of a breakdown right now, I was going to go over help them calm down.” You resumed packing your bag, placing each article of clothing inside carefully as you felt his eyes on your back.

“C’mon,” he whined. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you all week, can’t you just stay? We can cuddle. Usually, you’re asleep by the time I get home, so I’ve been missing out.” The pout was back in full force as he came up behind you to snake his arms around your midriff. He placed a kiss on the back of your head before resting a cheek on your hair.

“Yeah, we’ve barely seen each other all week,” you reiterated, something igniting in your chest. “And whose fault would that be?” The words came out before you could stop them, sharp as knives.

He stiffened against you, arms loosening. “Y/N, I have practice every day but Sundays, you know that,” he replied, a bit defensively.

You pulled out of his grasp, picking up your bag and placing it on the bed. “Yeah, and what about when your practice is over? Hmm? Where do you go then? From 6 to 2 in the morning?” You couldn’t stop the anger from bubbling over, your chest burning with it. Now that you’ve started, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Are you just hanging out with your friends instead of your girlfriend? Are you going out to the clubs?” Your tone was pure venom as angry tears welled in your eyes. Dropping your voice to a whisper, you hissed out the last thought in your mind. “Are you seeing someone else?”

He gaped at you, lips parted and eyes wide as he comprehended what you had said. “Am I- what?!” His voice raised at the end in indignation. “You think I’m cheating on you? You think that’s the kind of man I am?”

“What else am I supposed to think when I’ve gone to bed alone for the last four nights in a row?” You cried, tears blurring your vision. “Torū, I’ve barely seen you at all this week, tell me you wouldn’t be suspicious too!”

He froze, eyebrows coming together slowly. “No, I don’t think I would be,” he defended. “I have quite a bit of faith in you, and it hurts me to know that you have so little in me.” His voice cracked slightly on the last word. You brought your hands up to press the heels into your eyes, hoping to do something to relieve the pressure building behind them.

“My point isn’t to call you a cheater, Torū, all I meant by that was that I have no idea what you’re out doing because you don’t talk to me!” Your voice grew thick with emotion, face growing flush as you raised your arms up to clasp your forearms above your head, eyes still screwed shut.

“Y/N, I’ve just been spending time with the team, that’s all,” he replied exasperatedly, and you heard the soft thump of his clothes falling into the hamper. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been spending enough time with you, but there are other important people in my life besides you!”

His words left you silent, and you opened your eyes to look at the ceiling, head tilting back slightly. The lump in your throat grew, making it unbearable to swallow back the tears that slipped from the corners of your eyes.

“If they’re all so important,” you whispered, “then maybe you don’t need me anymore.” You released your arms, letting them fall to your sides as you came to meet his gaze. The sight almost shattered your heart.

He looked at you like a lost child, mouth agape and hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. Were those tears in his eyes? You couldn’t tell from the distance between you. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, letting it rest on the back of his neck. “So… what are you saying Y/N? Hmm? Because I’m not sure at this point,” he breathed, eyes meeting yours and filled with emotion.

You took a moment to get your thoughts in order before responding. “I guess what I’m saying is-” you hesitated, unsure if you should continue. Could you continue with this relationship? Were you happy with him anymore? “I want you to break my heart. It’s already on its last leg and I just need you to cut the last strings because I don’t think I can do it by myself.”

There was a look of pure agony in his eyes. His hands went limp at his sides, and his shoulders fell. “Y/N I-” His voice cracked with emotion. “I don’t think I can do that." He took a step toward you, then another, until he stood just a few inches away, looking like he wanted to wrap his arms around you but refraining. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

All you wanted was rest your head against his chest, cry into the soft fabric of his shirt and act like you were still in love with him. But you couldn’t, not anymore. “I was scared that if I talked to you about it, then that would make it real,” you whispered into the space between, eyes stuck on the collar of his shirt and unable to meet his.

There was a pause, silence overcoming the two of you and thickening the air around you. You could practically hear his brain working to come up with a response that wouldn’t kill you, and you almost broke and fell against him. But you didn’t, couldn’t.

“I don’t think I could ever bring myself to break your heart,” he murmured, words smooth and soft. “But if you need me to cut whatever ties you have left, I’ll do it, even though it kills me. Whatever you need, I’ll do, even if it means I have to lose you.”

It was then that you gathered the courage to meet his eyes, and the moment you did you regretted it. Tears slid down his angled face, shining in the soft light of the lamp. Your heart crumpled, nearly unable to handle the fact that you were doing this to him.

You allowed yourself to reach up and rest your hands on his cheeks. “I’m so sorry,” your thumbs ran beneath his eyes in a useless attempt to wipe away his sadness. “I never want to hurt you, but this just isn’t working anymore, and my heart can’t take it. I’m sorry.”

He leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, eyes shut, and lower lip drawn between his teeth. His hands came to rest lightly on your hips, fingers wrapping into the material of your shirt. “I know, I know,” he assured you softly. “Things haven’t been the best between us lately, I know that now, but still-” Your hands snaked around his neck, effectively pulling him closer. His lips came to press against your forehead, and the feeling almost made you melt into him. “I’ll always love you Y/N, but if you need me to cut ties, I’ll cut them.”

The feeling of his breath against your skin brought on a fresh wave of tears as you nodded. “Thank you, Torū,” you murmured, fingers running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Thank you for everything, I mean it.”

He sighed, pulling you against his chest as his arms encircled you fully. “I know, Y/N, you’re welcome.”

consider buying me a coffee for exclusive writing

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 13

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

A/N: Future you, r u okkkk

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

You stared at Bucky and the gentleman who was with him named Sam Wilson, completely dumbfounded; as if they both had three heads. They were seated across from you, Bucky with a glass of water, and Sam with a bottle of beer in his hand. Sam was just finishing his beer, as well as his speech about his business proposal which had to do with you taking photos of his new products, and models.

Bucky introduced Sam as a long-time friend and an owner of a sporting fit apparel named The Falcons. The name did ring a bell as soon as you heard it. You suddenly remembered passing through it while you and Bucky were strolling down Fifth Street, vaguely telling you about a friend who owned it and six other stores scattered in California, Chicago, London, and Australia (and was planning to branch out more in Asian countries); and here he was right in front of you, hiring you as a photographer for his big-time business.

Sam didn't give you a sliver of time to intervene with his flawless little speech he had committed to memory, as he spoke so fast. Some words were even incomprehensible to you — or perhaps it was just because the world was still whirling around you, given the prior event that just took place.

And now this.

You tried to give Bucky some kind of signal by giving him a look but he encouraged Sam further and urged you to listen to his proposal.

"So, y/n..." Sam rested his hands on the wooden table, his attention solely focused on you. "What do you think?"

If only you could tell him the truth that your mind was completely blank, you would. But you didn't want to embarrass yourself or Bucky for that matter, so you just gave him a smile and did the first thing you could think of. "Mr. Wilson — "

"Oh, you can just call me Sam. There's no need for formalities."

You nodded. "Sam... Do you mind if I have a little discussion with Bucky? It will just take a moment."

Sam leaned back on the cushioned couch of the booth and nodded. "Of course. Take all the time you need."

You didn't give Bucky the time to question why so you immediately stood up, grabbed Bucky's hand from across the booth and dragged his body towards one of the closets the bar rarely used. You closed the door behind you, and switched the light on. Even with the small lightbulb hanging from the ceiling, the inside of the closet still looked dingy, and the dust crawling on the walls and flying in the tight air space were clearly evident.

"Bucky, what the hell is going on?"

"Isn't it great?"

You smacked his arm. "Steve just told me he's getting me fired so that I can focus on my career as a photographer."

"That's even greater!"

You smacked his arm harder this time. "I'm not done." You hissed. "He's giving me one week to figure things out and then I'm fired. If I don't have shit figured out in that one week, I'm not gonna be able to pay for bills. Did you say something to Steve when you came here this morning? Don't lie to me, James."

He was rubbing his arm, brows furrowed. "I told him nothing."

"You showed him the photos I took last night. What was that all about?"

He sighed in defeat. "I just made him realize that you needed to be out there and not stuck here. You said it yourself, y/n, you're stuck in a rut and the only way to get yourself moving is to break from that routine. To go out there and explore the world."

"And then you just swoop in and bring your friend?"

"Yes."

"So, Steve just happens to realize that I needed to go out there and explore the world, and then it just so happens that your friend needs someone to photograph for his business?" You scoffed. "Bucky, do you expect me to believe that this is just one big coincidence? That you're not the one pulling all the strings in this little weird puppet show?"

"Yes, okay, I may have done something about those, said something, but — "

"Oh my god, you can't do that." You had the urge to get some air, and to pace back and forth as you tried to put your thoughts into words, but the space felt tighter the more you spoke. "You can't just walk into people's lives and, and... control everything! This is not just about chasing a dream, this is also about survival. I'm not rich like you. I don't have a safety net when things fall apart. You... You can't put all your trust in me."

"Well, someone needs to." Bucky sternly answered. "And if that someone should be me then so be it."

"I don't even know why you're going to great lengths for me." You looked down on the floor. "I... I don't get it, Bucky. I don't get you at all."

"Hey, hey, hey, listen to me, doll." His hands made contact with your skin, lifting your face to look at his blue eyes. "I apologize for taking things too far, I guess I could act so rash as well but I just wanted to do what I know is right and what would make you happy. Seeing you last night was... heartbreaking."

"So, you pity me." You sighed. "Everybody does."

"Call it what you want, y/n. But people who pity you won't ever believe in you and in what you do. But here I am putting all my trust in you. Your boss Steve does too. And Sam." A smile formed on his lips, making the insides of you flip.

"Your friend Sam sounds like a big deal and he hasn't even seen my photos. How can he trust me to do all this for him?"

"I put my word in for you. I told him if I was wrong, then to hell with me. And if you're worried about people assisting you during the shoot, don't. Sam has people all over and he just needs your beautiful eyes and hands and brain." He laughed. "Sam's a good guy and you're not going to be working for some big corporation. I know you hate those. This is perfect for you, trust me. And right now, all I need you to do is say yes to Sam, say yes to me, and most especially say yes to yourself. Please?"

The atmosphere became lighter, and the room didn't feel that tight any longer. His flattering words forever engraved in your mind. His warm hands stayed on both sides of your face, his face pleading.

You sighed and nodded your head slowly, finally convinced. "Okay, yes."

A grin started to crawl to his face and for a moment, his face drew closer to yours. "Okay, good. Now let's get out of here and tell Sam the good news."

You nodded but a touch of disappointment came, as Bucky's hands left your face. You never knew the presence of Bucky's skin against yours was one thing you could miss. You didn't even know if you should.

As soon as you sat down, you told Sam the good news and quickly ordered a bottle of champagne. You were supposed to get it for them but Bucky told you to sit down and let loose for a while, so you did.

Nat approached the booth with the cold champagne, and some glasses. She bent down and whispered to you, "You better tell me what's going on here. I wanna hear everything."

Sure, she did. Nat always wanted to. When it comes to water cooler gossip or any kind of gossip for that matter, Nat always wanted to dig her nose into other people's stuff. With a wink and a slight sway on the hips, she retreated to the counter and took more of people's orders. Beside her, you noticed Nick steal a glance in your direction but was averted away by people trying to get their drinks.

"Alright, let's toast." Sam declared. Bucky was just finishing filling yours when you focused your attention back at the two gentlemen in front of you. You thanked Bucky and mirrored Sam as he raised his glass. Bucky followed, his eyes with a luster glaze on you. "To new partners, beginnings, and to y/n."

"Thank you, Sam." You laughed, clinking your glasses. "And to Bucky, for trusting me enough to do this."

"To Bucky who wouldn't leave me alone until I said yes." Sam replied, emptying his glass.

You gave Bucky a look and shook your head. Being the cheeky man he was, the ends of his lips curved slightly which triggered the beat of your heart. The sudden changes you have been feeling when it came to Bucky have been scaring you but it wasn't a "bad scary"; it was the kind that excited everything inside you. A thrilling feeling that left you wanting more.

At the taste of the sprinkling cold champagne, for a moment, you were brought back to last night's events. A montage-like of red, blue and white lights illuminating the street, Howard waiting in the limousine, Wandavision, and then Bucky. After that, it was just Bucky's presence beside you and as you looked back at him, all you could think about was his soft warm lips pressed on your forehead. The entirety of it felt like you were living a dream — there were parts you couldn't remember and parts that you could, and the latter were just the ones you kept replaying in mind (even with Bucky in front of you), trying to imbue this dream-like memory and convince yourself that it was a memory.

Nat's voice pulled you out of your thoughts (and boy, were you thankful for it). "Hey, your shift's almost ending." She reminded you, passing by the booth, then turned to face Bucky and Sam. "Anything you want from the menu, boys?"

"No, thank you." Bucky replied then turned to you. "We should also be heading up."

"Oh." Nat's change in voice was so evident that you wanted to pull her out of here as soon as possible. "You guys are heading up, huh?" She teased, her eyes now on you.

"It's not what you think." You said. "He's just looking after me. Parker's gone to some corporate retreat for a week."

"Man, you're a babysitter!" Sam butted in, punching Bucky's arm lightly. "Oh, I can't believe this."

"No, I'm not."

"You can't even take care of your damn self, how are you gonna take care of her?"

"Shut up, Sam!"

"He's actually taking good care of me." You said, looking at Bucky.

"I'm sure he is." Nat chuckled which made you step on her foot. She cleared her throat in response.

"Anyway, I gotta go say goodbye to Steve." You said, standing up. "Hey Nat, do you want me to say hi to him for you?"

With her mouth slightly open, and eyes furrowed, she replied very slowly. "No."

You smirked. "Okay then."

You headed towards Steve's office, leaving Nat stunned in her place. Steve's office was slightly open so you didn't bother knocking and just went inside. "Hey, Steve. I'm off for tonight."

"Sure." He replied. "Hey, about earlier."

"What about it?"

"I'm doing it because I truly believe in you." He smiled. "And your new friend Bucky does so too."

You smiled at him right back. "Yes, Steve. Thank you."

"Take care, y/n."

"You too, boss!"

And with that, you headed towards the booth where Bucky and Sam were.

Out on the side of the street, the three of you parted ways, Sam hailing a cab and you and Bucky heading towards the apartment building. Once the elevator doors opened, you stepped inside and was greeted by its metallic smell.

"Hey, Bucky?" You said, quickly grabbing his attention. "T-thank you for this and for basically everything you've done for me for the past few days."

"Please, you don't have to thank me for this. I'm just really glad I'll be able to help you."

"And I promise once I get my shit done, have money and everything, I'm gonna pay you back — "

"Hey, hey, hey." He cut you off. "Who said anything about paying me back? You don't have to do that, okay?"

"But I feel like this is all too much, like, there's this thing tying me to you."

"Is that a bad thing?" He asked.

"When it comes to money, yeah kinda. And you've bought me all kinds of stuff — "

"Y/n, just..." He sighed. "You don't have to do or say anything. You don't have to worry about paying me back and even if you will, I won't ever ever accept it. Can we leave it at that?"

You sighed in response, the little ding! right on time. "Yeah, okay."

By the time you got in the apartment, you practically ran towards your room because of how exhausted you were but before you could even open the door, there was one more thing you needed to do.

"Bucky?"

“Yes?”

"I-I'm sorry again about last night and no," he was about to do his face whenever he cuts you off, "please, don't cut me off, let me finish."

Bucky walked towards you, his back facing Peter's room.

"This is about what I said... when I asked you to, uh, kiss me. You were right to stop me. I was drunk, sad and vulnerable and the moment wasn't right. It wasn't right. I would have regretted it the next day and would be so ashamed to face you. I might actually avoid you for a month." You sighed. "I'm really sorry you had to see that side of me. A kiss at that moment would be really inappropriate. When we — if we ever do, um, it wouldn't be like that... just like what you said. You said that right? You said, and I quote, not like this. 'Cause I keep hearing your voice saying that in my head." Bucky nodded, affirming it. "Okay. Um, yeah so in conclusion... I am sorry."

He slowly smiled, nodding his head. "You make a lot of speeches."

"Yeah, I'm the queen when it comes to it."

"And apology accepted, of course."

You warmed up with a smile. "Okay, thank you. Good night."

“Good night, doll."

Once you turned around, you felt a strong force on your arm, spinning your body which then collided with Bucky's, together with his lips crashing on yours.

It was like an impulse you couldn't avoid: for you to close your eyes, to move your lips in his rhythm, and to savor his breath. He tasted like cold champagne, and mint, with a hint of coffee. His lips, luscious, warm and soft; you were afraid of tearing them apart with your teeth. He kissed you with all the fervor of a lover. A lover talked about in books, movies, in fairytales.

Bucky's hands found their way around your hips, pulling you closer towards his body, while you rested yours on the sides of his face, pulling every inch of him, craving more of him. Slowly, you opened your eyes and tore your faces only an inch apart, foreheads touching. Lips empty but still hungry. You stayed right where you were; You never dared move an inch and so did he. You were still like statues. The only movement was the rapid rise and fall of your breathing.

Bucky's hands slid from your waist. You felt his fingers on the nape of your neck, his thumb tracing your lower lip and giving it a small, passionate kiss.

"Just like this, doll." He whispered. "Just like this."