#in on how they'll Never wake up from this aching nightmare

[birrdify]

im obsessed wiht your AU mister moloch ...... @can-your-kinitopet (for Some reason i cant tag your main sobs)) i Will draw more whne i come back from the Dread. Dinner

[cowgurrrl]

Crazy Love

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic fem!reader x Ellie Williams)

Summary: Ellie has a nightmare and you and Joel help calm her down [1.3k]

Author’s note: Apparently I’ve been on my tlou found family trope kick recently

Warnings: mentions of David, nightmares, a panic attack, I can’t think of anything else!

Ellie's screams rattle you from an already light sleep and shake the house. You and Joel are out of bed and sprinting to her room before you can even think about it. She's sitting up in bed when you open her door, gasps wrenching from her throat as she struggles to breathe, and she's in your arms not even a moment later. "You're home. You're okay," you tell her as you pull her close. She curls her head into your chest and sobs loudly. "We're right here with you, baby." Joel pulls the chair from her desk to sit across from you, an ever-present but silent figure. 

This is the third time this week she's woken up screaming. Each time, it sounds like thunder splitting the sky in half. It reminds you of every terrible moment that unfolded over the year it took to get to Jackson. Your heart aches, and tears fill your eyes as you rub her back and remind her that she's safe, that you and Joel would never let anything happen to her, and that you love her. Joel rests a gentle hand on your knee when he sees your tears, and you nod at him over Ellie's head. It's hard for both of you to see her like this and know there's nothing you can do to shield her from her own mind. 

She tells you bits and pieces of her nightmare in between cries. You're able to put together the words David, fire, blood, and know what she dreamt of. "Oh, sweet girl," you murmur as you push her hair out of her face and kiss her head. You hold her to your chest, tucking her under your chin, and hum an old song quietly. Joel reaches out and rubs soothing circles into her back. After a few minutes, her sobs die down to soft sniffles, and her breathing returns to normal. 

"You okay, kiddo?" Joel asks quietly. She nods against you and pulls away enough to look at him. Her face is red and splotchy, and her eyes are swollen. 

"Just felt so real," she says. You tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and she takes a shaky breath. "I'm sorry I woke you guys up."

"You have no reason to apologize," Joel says in that firm, loving tone reserved for Ellie. "We get them, too."

"Yeah, but you don't wake everyone up when you do,"

"That's not true. We've probably woken each other up hundreds of times over the years." You tell her, glancing at Joel, who's nodding in agreement. Ellie looks between us and relaxes a little bit.

"Really?" 

"Really."

"Does it get better?" She asks. "Like, do they go away?" 

"I don't know if they'll ever go away, but it gets more manageable. They become less real. Sometimes, we'll still wake up cryin' and screamin', but we can't remember why. We just know it was a nightmare, and we talk about it and go back to sleep." He explains, his southern twang peeking through his words as he gets sleepier. 

"Does talking about it help?"

"Sometimes. The great thing about us three is that we went through all of that shit together, so we trust each other. We understand each other. Joel knows that cars make me nervous because of what happened in Kansas City, and I know that Joel's right hand is a little weaker than his left because it didn't heal right after we left Boston," You say. Joel makes a mock, offended face, and Ellie smiles. You swear, his eyes twinkle in the low light of her room when she does. "And I know that you are an incredibly capable girl who saw a lot of things you shouldn't have. You're still learning how to live with these things, and that's okay because we're here for you. We'll always be right down the hall." 

"Even if I have shitty table manners?" She asks at the end of your emotional, vulnerable speech, and Joel laughs. She gets that from him, you think. The sass in her question and the smirk pulling at her lips have Joel written all over them. They may not share any DNA, but that girl is a Miller through and through.

"Even if you have shitty table manners." He confirms.

"Even if I tell you puns all day?"

"Yes, that too."

"What about-"

"When you go to school tomorrow, ask your smartass teacher what the word 'unconditional' means, alright? Tell her you need a vocabulary quiz or somethin'." He says, and you laugh along with Ellie. Her face lights up, and the weight drops from her shoulders. You may not know what tomorrow will bring, but this, right now, is enough. You kiss Ellie's head again, the love you feel for her pouring out of you, and she lets you before rubbing at her eyes and yawning.

"Tired?" You ask, and she nods. "Do you want us to stay with you until you fall asleep?" 

"I think I'll be okay," she says, untangling from you and tucking herself under the covers. You and Joel stand, tell her goodnight and remind her you're not far. Right before you can close her bedroom door, she sits back up. "Could you... maybe leave it open? Just a little bit."

"Anything for you, kiddo." She smiles at your answer before finally laying back down and closing her eyes. When you turn to walk back to your bedroom, Joel cups your jaw and kisses you. Your hands rest on his chest as his smell surrounds you—something sweet and smoky and so inherently him. He kisses you slowly and deeply, stealing the air from your lungs. When you pull away, he chases your lips and kisses you once, twice, three times before looking at you. His eyes are warm and heavy with fatigue and something more. "What was that for?" You whisper, careful not to wake Ellie.

"Takin' care of her," he says. "Takin' care of us. I wouldn't have been able to do that without you." You smile and kiss him again. 

"You're getting soft on me, cowboy." You murmur against him, and he huffs a laugh.

"Now, you keep that one to yourself. I've got a reputation to uphold."

"You mean the residents of Jackson don't know that mean old Joel Miller is secretly a huge softy for his family? I'm shocked." 

"You like mean old Joel Miller."

"I love mean old Joel Miller," you say, and he smiles, creasing the corners of his eyes. "Let's go back to bed before we have to get up for patrol."  

"Yes, ma'am," he says as you untangle from each other, but he stays close, keeping a hand on your lower back as you walk to your bedroom. Together, you pick the blankets off the floor and reset the bed. When you crawl back into bed, his arms wrap around your waist, and he pulls you to his chest. It's easy to get sleepy with the human furnace holding you. 

"Were you humming Van Morrison to her?" He asks right before you can fully fall back to sleep. You have to laugh because the idea of him wracking his brain for the familiar tune through all of that is hilarious. You also have about five hours until patrol, and he's still awake, asking you about the song you were humming.

"I can't believe it took you that long to recognize it. Maybe you are losing it." You turn to look at him, and he rolls his eyes, trying to hide his smirk.

"Go to sleep."

"I'm trying. You're the one asking about Van Morrison." He doesn't fight you on getting the last word in. Instead, he kisses the back of your neck and squeezes you a little tighter. You fall asleep listening to big, scary Joel Miller humming Crazy Love into your skin like a gospel. After all these years, you have to think that maybe Van Morrison got that one right. Maybe love is enough to make us whole again. 

TUMBLR STOP DELETING MY LAST PARAGRAPH

[riotwritesthings]

Unrequited Dreams

WinterIron, M, 3.5k - Soulmate AU, Angst, hopeful ending

I can finally share my piece from the Reforged WinterIron Zine! I'm so excited, I'd had the idea for this fic for years and it was delightful to finally bring it to life. And now I get to share!

Thank you to all the mods over at @reforgedzine for making this happen!

~~~

The night before his thirteenth birthday Bucky is so excited he can barely fall asleep, because he’s going to have his first dream about his soulmate.

The anticipation has been building for weeks, for years; his family has taken to fondly rolling their eyes because Bucky can't talk about anything else. He can’t wait to find out something, anything about his soulmate, about how they'll meet for the first time. He can't wait to start trying to make sense of the hazy details the dream will leave him with.

In the morning, Bucky wakes up sobbing, because now he knows that his soulmate is gorgeous and graceful. That knowledge is crystal clear even if few other details are.

And now, Bucky knows that he's going to put a gun in his soulmate's face and pull the trigger.

~

Thirteen year old Tony wakes up feeling cold and hollow except for a sharp ache settling deep in his chest.

Apparently, it was stupid to be excited, just like Howard always said. Because now he knows that their first meeting involves his soulmate pushing him away.

Literally.

Tony knows that dreams are funny things. He read all about soulmate dreams and how easy it is to misinterpret them, how they tend to exaggerate, back when he was dumb enough to look forward to them. But he would swear that the shove felt hard enough to knock the air from his lungs, felt strong enough to throw him clear across the room.

The ache in his chest lingers the entire day, and every morning that he wakes up from the same dream, the pain is agonizingly fresh, digging a little deeper.

So Tony grows up and learns how to push people away first. He tells himself that when he meets his soulmate, he’ll be ready.

~

Bucky never tells anyone about the dream, even when his parents give him concerned looks. Eventually people stop asking.

Every time he has the dream, Bucky remembers a little more. His soulmate is dressed in mostly black, moving gracefully and carelessly through a room in chaos. His soulmate has gorgeous eyes and a wicked, beautiful smirk.

Every time, Bucky shoots his soulmate in the face and wakes up nauseous.

At least when he joins the army, no one else talks about their dreams either. Most nights, Bucky is too exhausted to dream at all, and it’s almost a relief when nightmares start to overtake the few times that he does.

~

Most nights, Tony drinks until he falls into a short, restless sleep, just to avoid the one dream he doesn't want to have.

He doesn’t want to see his soulmate’s cold, emotionless eyes. He doesn’t want the all-too-brief feeling of his soulmate's hand beneath his own before he's shoved away.

When Tony does dream, it’s of clenched fists, feeling frustrated, helpless. Feeling like his entire life is falling apart around him, and it’s all so stupid.

So he refuses to figure out any other details because he’s already going to have to live through it at some point. He doesn't want to know if that fleeting contact of hand against hand is a first meeting, doesn’t bother trying to remember anything about the large, bright room the dream takes place in or the people around them. He doesn’t care if it's a charity gala or something else. None of it matters.

Tony wakes up and drinks more.

He builds and smiles for the press. He does his best to not lose the few people he has, and tells himself that he won’t care when his soulmate doesn’t want him.

Sometimes he even believes it.

~

The Winter Soldier doesn’t dream at all.

Not during the short, fitful sleep he gets on missions. Certainly not while he’s frozen.

He forgets.

~

When the moment finally happens in real life, they don’t recognize it.

Bucky isn't in his right mind. He’s barely clinging to awareness past the hold of the conditioning in a room in chaos. He doesn't recognize the graceful motions of the gorgeous man who jumps into the fight, or the moment he points his gun in the man's face.

The bullet doesn't connect, and when Tony doesn't die, the Winter Soldier rips his hand away from Tony’s, shoves him across the room and knocks the air out of his lungs.

Tony isn’t thinking about the brief contact of his hand on Barnes’ over the barrel of a gun, of Barnes’ hand splayed across his chest. He’s thinking about the fact that his life is falling apart, and that he needs to stop a rampaging Winter Soldier. He doesn’t have time to think about the splinter itching at the back of his mind.

They don’t even notice when they stop having the dreams, after that moment.

~

Tony is alone in his workshop, in the too-empty compound, when it hits him that he doesn’t even remember the last time he dreamt of his soulmate.

It’s not just because he barely sleeps, not just because when he does dream it’s of his friends falling from the sky, of cities and worlds crashing to the ground. He’s spent so much time trying to ignore the dream, apparently he’s even been ignoring the fact that it’s gone.

It’s a stupid thing to be upset about.

Tony has always known how they would feel about him, known they wouldn’t want anything to do with him, but he still has to sit on the cold tile floor as his legs give out. He blinks back tears, wondering how far he must have fallen, if he doesn’t even deserve a soulmate who pushes him away anymore, doesn’t deserve anyone.

He wonders if his soulmate dreams about someone else now.

~

Bucky is in Wakanda, trying to find peace, when a doctor asks about the dream.

For a second Bucky doesn’t remember. And then he does. And he can’t breathe.

He doesn’t dream much anymore. When he does, it’s always nightmares. He hasn’t dreamt of his soulmate since before the war.

Before the Soldier.

And Bucky realizes he’s probably already killed his soulmate, and doesn’t even remember it. Everything goes fuzzy.

No one asks about the dreams again. Bucky has so many regrets to move past, he just shoves this one down with all the others. His soulmate is probably long gone. There’s no need to think about it.

So, he tries not to.

~

Having everyone back at the compound is exactly as awkward-as-hell as Tony thought it would be. It only makes him feel a little better that he’s clearly not the only one feeling it.

The reasoning is sound, the threat is coming, but that doesn’t mean Tony has to be happy about it.

But he smiles, shakes hands when he has to, and reminds himself this is for the best. He can bury his hurt feelings for the good of the world. He can be an adult, pretend everything is fine. He shows everyone to the residential wing, despite most of them already knowing their way around, and doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes as he says to make themselves at home.

Slowly, they start putting the team back together. There’s lots of talks about trust and honesty that feel hollow and stilted, but Tony supposes it’s progress.

They still work well together in the field, but that was never the Avengers’ problem.

Around the compound, though, the split remains obvious. Everyone seems torn between walking on eggshells and the urge to act like nothing’s changed even though it has, Tony among them.

The different sides of the war still give each other wide berths in the hallways, and Steve still stands protectively between Tony and his shadow of a best friend when they happen to run into each other in the gym.

Tony spins on his heel with a lazy wave, doesn’t even care if he’s too obvious. For just a moment, Tony’s gaze meets Barnes’ as he turns.

For just that moment, Tony finds himself caught in that deep blue stare before the doors slide closed behind him.

~

Bucky spends a lot of time wandering the compound.

He’s aware everyone thinks it’s a paranoid-perimeter-check thing, which it partially is. But it's also just him enjoying the novelty that he can spend his time wandering aimlessly. He can go where he wants when he wants, never has to sleep unless he chooses to.

He’s still getting used to it; remembering how to enjoy the freedom.

Which is how he runs into Stark in the kitchen at three AM, when he’s trying to outrun his nightmares. Tony is apparently making pancakes.

Bucky freezes in the doorway as they stare at each other. Just when he’s preparing to back away, Stark’s lips curl into a tiny smile. Stark tips his head towards the rest of the kitchen, obviously inviting him to stay instead. Bucky grabs an apple and sits at his usual spot at the far end of the table, trying to look comfortable, and it’s somehow easier than he’s expecting.

It’s only a couple minutes before Stark finishes making and neatly stacking his pancakes on a plate. Then he dumps everything in the dishwasher and shoots Bucky only the briefest look before leaving with his plate of food.

Bucky tells himself to avoid the kitchen around that time. He should give Stark some space, because he’s so clearly uncomfortable with everyone being back.

But two sleepless nights later, Bucky’s feet carry him on a familiar path without thought.

Stark is making waffles this time. He barely even looks up as Bucky takes up the same space at the table. Stark glances at him again as he’s preparing to leave, at the power bar Bucky’s been picking at, then transfers one waffle to a smaller plate. He sets the small plate on the table, just within Bucky’s reach. Then to Bucky’s surprise, Stark sits at the counter instead of leaving.

Bucky pulls the plate closer, and they eat in total silence. They’re not even facing each other and Bucky is actually a little relieved. He doesn’t know what to say to anyone these days, much less Stark.

It’s the first time they’ve done more than pass in the hallways, but it’s not as uncomfortable as it should be. When Tony stands to leave with a wave and a small, warm smile, Bucky finds himself disappointed.

~

As the weeks go by, Tony notices Barnes getting more comfortable around the compound, sometimes with Steve but most often alone.

Not that Tony lets himself wonder why he cares, why he scrolls through security feeds of the hallways like he needs to check on Barnes. It’s just morale has been slowly improving, and that’s the last bridge Tony has to mend. Or, the last bridge to build from scratch over a giant chasm, in this case.

He’s coming back late from a charity event, a little tipsy with plans to head to the lab, but gets sidetracked when he passes through the living room and realizes Barnes is on the couch watching Star Trek. Tony pauses for a second, filled with nostalgia, but he tells himself to leave Barnes to his marathon in peace.

To his surprise, Barnes looks at him with a tiny smile, unsure but devoid of suspicion or impatience. Tony sinks into an armchair, asking himself why. They proceed to watch four and a half episodes in silence.

Tony wakes up to Steve and Sam clomping through after their morning run, slumped down in the chair with a blanket carefully draped over him.

It becomes a habit, and Barnes becomes Bucky, even if they haven’t actually spoken yet.

So maybe Tony has FRIDAY alert him when Bucky is queuing up the next episode so he can head to the living room. After the first time, though, Bucky waits for him to arrive before hitting play and greets him with a smile that gets brighter every time.

Tony doesn’t let himself wonder about the why’s. Like why he spends so much time simply existing in the same room as Bucky, why that doesn’t feel awkward at all. Or why it seems to be the only thing that helps Tony ignore the empty pit in his chest.

One night, Tony realizes he hasn’t seen Bucky in a while. There’s been no marathon nights despite being due to start Next Generation. He tells himself it’s not creepy to flip through security feeds., He’s just curious how Bucky is spending his sleepless nights now.

Tony’s heart leaps into his throat when he finally locates Bucky on the roof of the hanger, standing on the ledge. He’s breathless by the time he makes it to the hangar, heart racing and legs shaking from the sprint. He doesn’t even know what he thinks is happening, except…

Bucky looks at him with wide, exhausted eyes when Tony bursts through the door, and he could swear Bucky’s shoulders drop in relief. Tony doesn’t have time to think. He just starts talking, because Bucky looks so haunted, and Tony knows a thing or two about distractions.

They’re still on the roof when the sun comes up., And Bucky has to stop pointing out all the constellations he can remember while Tony fills him in on the new star science he’s missed.

~

After the roof, something shifts.

Bucky can’t put his finger on exactly what it is, or even when it happens. But that one stilted conversation about the stars becomes less stilted conversations about whatever’s on TV becomes friendly debates about the merits of different toppings as they make pizza at midnight.

Before Bucky knows it, he feels like he’s home.

He finds a groove with his new life and starts branching out, starts connecting with the rest of the team. He’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be a person. To actually interact when he passes people in the hallway and eat with a group.

To be more than a ghost, to be part of something good.

Always though, he gravitates back to Tony. Because Tony actually makes him laugh and it fills a void in his chest Bucky has long gotten used to. Because Tony is always trying to do better and god Bucky wants to learn how.

Because when Tony’s been on an inventing binge, Bucky can trick him into taking a nap by putting on home improvement shows, and it makes Bucky feel like he’s doing something right. The team smirks when they walk in on Tony drooling on his shoulder, but it’s not like that.

He recognizes the look Steve and Natasha start to give him, smug and knowing. And fine, maybe Tony would have been exactly his type, before. But it’s not like that.

Because Bucky is the man who killed his soulmate. He doesn’t let himself think about that kind of thing.

~

When Bucky decides that he wants to officially join the Avengers, Tony leaps at the chance to make him new gear.

He does the same for the entire team, after all, making sure everyone’s safe. It doesn’t make Bucky special. No matter what the wide grins from Rhodey try to imply.

Tony just loves a challenge, loves the excuse to build something new. So maybe he gets more input from Bucky than anyone else, offers to help Bucky test all the gear on top of team training, but it’s not an excuse to spend more time together. He just sees what Bucky is trying to do, and he’s all too familiar with that struggle.

Despite the knowing looks from everyone, it doesn’t mean anything that he lets Bucky into the lab to see the prototypes, even if it is Tony’s only place of solitude in the compound. Even if eventually Bucky just hangs out there with him for hours.

Tony keeps telling himself it means nothing.

Watching Bucky try to teach DUM-E checkers is the final straw, though. Warmth fills Tony’s chest so fast and hard that he can’t breathe around it. And he finally admits that maybe it all means something.

But Tony is the man who doesn’t deserve a soulmate, who never even got to meet them. Who’s not sure he’d want to meet them anymore, as guilty as it makes him feel.

Maybe he can’t lie to himself anymore. Maybe he’s completely in love, but Tony knows better than to say anything.

~

Days spent in the lab with Tony run together in the best possible way. It’s a blur of playing with the bots, watching Tony create the future, and trying to convince him maybe the new reboots of Star Trek do have something to offer.

Bucky knows what a privilege it is to be here, to see Tony at his most relaxed and occasionally unhinged. He tries not to let it go to his head, give him ideas, even though every day he falls more in love. He’s even getting used to the pangs of guilt over the soulmate he should miss.

Until one day they’re watching a movie on the lumpy couch in Tony’s lab. When it’s revealed that Tony called the plot twist from the very beginning, he smirks at Bucky at just the right angle.

Bucky’s heart drops into the floor.

He knows that smirk. He’s seen it a thousand times in a thousand dreams, even if he hasn’t had it in years, he remembers.

And of course it’s Tony, who’s smart and gorgeous, graceful and just the right amount of wicked. Who Bucky already loves so much he can’t breathe sometimes.

Tony, who he still can’t possibly deserve.

So Bucky says nothing, as happy as he thinks he’ll ever be. Tony is here, alive. Bucky’s soulmate is too smart and too tough to die. Bucky gets to watch the way he laughs when their friends do something stupid, to watch Tony’s back in fights while they both try to do better.

He’ll never get to taste the edges of Tony’s smile, but he shoves that aside. Tony is alive. That’s more than enough.

~

Tony’s first thought when he wakes half-buried under rubble is that he’s officially over alien invasions. The second is that the power of the suit fading in and out, causing the concerned shouting over the comms to cut in and out, is really not helping with his throbbing head.

The aliens swarm into what’s left of the nightclub, stealing his attention before Tony can work up the breath to answer, and all the suit’s questionable power has to go to blasting the ones that get too close. The oversized bug-like soldiers just keep coming, and Tony starts to wonder if he’d be better off ditching the deadweight of the armor.

But he’s not sure he can make a run for it. His head is spinning and he’s dimly aware of blood filling the suit, and the aliens are still coming—

There’s a roar of approaching gunfire and then Bucky is bursting into the destroyed building, wielding a large knife and the only gun Tony has built in years.

And the thing is…Tony knows those movements.

He knows that brutal fighting style, the blank rage in those blue eyes. He recognizes the wrath of the Winter Soldier. He’d been dreaming of it most of his life.

Tony can’t believe he never put it together before, because of course it’s Bucky. Resilient and brave and so kind, Bucky who still deserves so much better than Tony. Of course.

Maybe it’s just easier to recognize him with unconsciousness trying to drag Tony under. Maybe Tony’s already dreaming.

He must be, because suddenly Bucky is leaning over him. His eyes are warm, and scared. Tony doesn’t know this part of the dream, doesn’t know what happens next.

Everything is going black. Tony struggles to find his words, to plead. To beg not to be shoved away again.

~

Bucky sits unmoving beside Tony’s hospital bed for three days, even though all he wants to do is run.

He saw the recognition in Tony’s eyes, he knows that Tony knows. He wants to leave before Tony asks him to, because what else could Tony want from a soulmate like him?

But that’s not what Tony had said. Tony asked him to stay while sounding so scared, so resigned. Like he knew Bucky wouldn’t and it was already breaking his heart.

So, Bucky stays.

He’s staring at his fists, trying to stop himself from wondering, when the heart monitor starts beeping triple time, giving away that Tony is awake. Bucky jerks his gaze up to meet Tony’s big brown eyes, watches the flashes of fear and hope that go through them.

Bucky knows he must look terrible, hasn’t slept or shaved in days. He’s barely eaten, and he can feel the lines of worry set into his face. But Tony’s still looking at him with something like awe, just because he’s here.

When Tony smiles nervously the wave of hope that crashes over Bucky nearly overwhelms him, could crush him beneath it.

Bucky smiles back.

[swanqueensalad]

okay top 3 cute sq headcanons that you have right now and top 3 more angsty sq headcanons you have right now?

thank you for this anon!!! i love doing these <33

cute:

emma is actually so dad vibes she falls asleep on the couch every night the minute she, regina and henry start watching netflix. she kicks up such a fuss about what they watch then just straight up passes out. henry always complains and makes fun of her, but regina (though she would never say it) really likes it. it makes her feel very warm and safe and comforted to be snuggled up on emma's chest watching tv, feeling her breath rise and fall, listening to her silly occasional snores. because even asleep, emma never stops holding her. (and then emma wakes up at the end of the episode or the movie and insists she wasn't asleep and saw the whole thing)

every saturday morning, regina mills has a baking session. she is basically a pinterest mom who also is obsessed with organizing and scheduling, and baking is a hobby that benefits everyone, so it becomes part of her routine. emma is gradually learning to help: this means being annoying in the kitchen, eating ingredients, giving regina cuddles and neck kisses when she's trying to do something, and singing along badly to the music on the radio. though regina pretends to be annoyed, she secretly loves it. after henry grew out of helping her, she always baked alone until emma, and rarely got much joy out of it. now it's one of her favourite parts of the week. simple, peaceful, and happy. (and every time she bakes with emma and then they eat some of the freshly cooled goods together, it undoes cora's voice in the back of her head a little bit, every week her questionable relationship with food gets a little bit better)

as much as emma loves storybrooke, she sometimes misses the outside world, and so another tradition that develops is emma taking regina for date days out of town. they'll pick random towns, forests to hike in, and places to visit and take a leisurely drive, stop for food somewhere. for a while emma gets weirdly obsessed with weird thrift/antique stores and finding the dumbest stuff she can (regina and henry, when he hears, both tease her for 'keeping some Mr Gold genes after being the Dark One') and while regina makes fun, she secretly loves leafing through antique books and reading inscriptions left in them. also, whenever they speak to waitresses or shopkeepers on these outings, they have to make up different stories about how they met. every time, emma comes up with a different story and makes it as rambling and silly as possible, and every time regina smiles and shakes her head and sometimes inputs something funny that comes to mind.

angsty:

i've def spoken about this one before, but regina has nightmares very regularly. multiple times a week, about various things from her past (god knows there's enough nightmare fuel). emma is a light sleeper and lifelong insomniac herself for many reasons, and if she is asleep, she wakes up very quickly when she hears the familiar change in regina's breathing, or feels her lashing out with her hands or feet in her sleep. it aches deep in emma's chest every time, knowing there are things that have happened that will always haunt regina like this, knowing there are some things she can't fight off. and she's still learning what to do with those things, how to help her without a sword and fist, but she wakes her as gently as she can and kisses her forehead, strokes her hair and whispers silly things and dumb jokes to her until they're both okay. regina doesn't like to talk about her nightmares or what they contain, and emma doesn't ask. they just hold each other and learn to feel safe.

idk if this is a controversial one, or if my view of them has just changed a little as i've gotten older, but emma and regina are both people that are still struggling big time with their mental health, processing, healing etc and though they love each other and are definitely on a one way path to peace, there's no way this doesn't cause issues sometimes. when regina and emma fight (beyond the everyday quibbling that undoubtedly means i love you), they fight badly. they both say awful stuff they don't mean or believe. they both spiral. (but afterwards, when they've calmed down and the dust has settled, they always find each other with immense apology and understanding. and the good thing is, because they both struggle, they both understand wholeheartedly what the other one went through, why they said those things, and they know unequivocally that they didn't mean them. their fights are not common, but after them they are always extra caring and tender and honest with each other, just to be sure the other knows how much they are loved.)

this is more sad than actually angsty, but it means a lot to me so. i have forgotten if this is actually canon or not, but regina had a version of daniel's tombstone brought over to storybrooke with the curse and it is still very important to her to visit it regularly, bringing his favourite yellow flowers. emma respects her privacy and that it's a very personal thing, but one day when emma asks where she's going and she says there, regina tells her very gently that she's welcome to come if she'd like. and so emma, after making sure it's not overstepping any boundaries, joins. she is quiet and respectful, holds regina's hand and sits with her there. after a while regina turns to her and tells her how much he would have liked her. how similar they are, in some ways. how totally not in others. before they go, when regina has already left, emma pretends to have forgotten something so she can have a quick moment to touch the stone and tell him a quiet thank you, for loving regina and taking care of her before she could.

[streetslost]

          SURVIVAL WAS AN EXISTENCE that cat knew well. simply getting through every day. food, water, ( pitiful ) attempts at sleeping. maybe new clothes, maybe a shower. watching the world rush by, witnessing lives and laughter. triumphs and losses. NEVER really knowing what was coming next, but never expecting anything beyond the half hearted efforts to simply keep breathing. at some point or another, her heart had withered away. the brunette had endured out of s p i t e. if the world was going to try and rip her apart, tear her down, kill her... well. she wasn't going to let it. not easily, at least. if she couldn't be wanted, she could at least take advantage of being despised.

     or that was how she had been living. until everything got twisted on her. until she found herself dumped into a life that made no sense. that left her confused and detached. people caring about her, money, comfort. it wasn't real, it couldn't be real. there were still mornings that the sun roused her and she held her breath as green depths fluttered open, expecting all that surrounded her to melt away to a cityscape and leave her shivering on the hard ground, sickly, tired, delusional. a hallucination, a trick of the mind. a dream. a nightmare? maybe maybe maybe. her heart was empty, it was tired, it ached with every beat.

             waking up from t h i s would simply end what was left of it ( were there anything truly left at all ), she figured. a shattering, an offering of her soul. give everything, take it away. all these emotions and reasonings that scraped her essence, gnawed at her flesh... cat knew that angel understood well. was chased by the same fears. horrors that were as everlasting as their shadows, reflections of their forms, never disappearing, never able to be defeated. there might be times of temporary respite - lost in deeper hauntings, but they always came back.

        her mind was rattling, because all these contemplations weighed on her as she spoke to her friend. there was nothing former street rat could do to assuage the fears fully. it would take years, it would take a miracle. all that could really be done was encourage... and pray to anyone or anything that she wasn't misguiding.

                      "m'sure there is," she admitted. that was a number of kids. a big house, a full FAMILY. it would be foolish to say there wasn't something that could be a blocker, that there wasn't a limit. money was infinite for the rare few, time expired for all, energy and space... people could only handle so much. the wealthy, the athletes, the mothers, the fathers, the hearts, the homes, the poor, the tired, the burdened, the free. they all had barriers. "...but do you know their limit, or are you setting it for them?"

        she knew the answer already, but the inquiry dripped from her. a whisper she didn't really want to ask but let slip regardless. because it felt a barb into her own life. when would she hit amy and jon's limits? hit scott's? her own? it would end, it would always end, they'd stop loving, they'd stop care, her own blood hadn't wanted her. ugh. she was a hypocrite, but small woman refused to relent to her own torments whilst in front of someone she intended to aide. if she did, she'd let angel down. her own life was expendable. not others. not if she could help it.

                  "they're big enough t'make the decision themselves. and if their choice is a picture WITHOUT you, you've put yourself in no worse a position." somewhat. being let down always made things a greater hardship, but cat was being honest on the physical and financial sense. she knew that she was ignoring the truth of the real agonies. of being abandoned, unwanted, forgotten. speaking from rationality and not from emotions. "but if there's this small chance they'll at least help, they'll at least support... does the risk outmatch the reward?"

     hard to say given what she knew. teeth gritted. fervent glance about, but the other volunteers didn't seem too disturbed by her distraction. they were occupied, keeping to their tasks. maybe they trusted she had her own. something that seemed f o o l i s h given her passed behaviors. some people were creepily understanding and accepting. forgiving, even. weird.

           "...yeah, okay, i know, it could suck massively. hurt..." hurt so bad. "but... what if."

“I would never.”

It was said with a light laugh, although the fact remained that it was true; Angel’s change of the subject had been far less about keeping Cat from responding and far more about stopping herself from saying something that she felt was stupid. She’d trusted Cat with her life in the past, would (mostly) trust her even with the vulnerabilities she’d show to no-one else…

But she wouldn’t trust herself not to let her feelings run away with her. Because… she did wish, oh how she wished. Wished that she’d had the courage to walk up to that door, to grasp onto the chance - however slim - that this upper-class family with four kids already would for some reason want some dirty girl who both the foster system and the streets had already chewed up and spat out. Just because she’d been in the right place at the right time to help a little.

But wishes like that were too dangerous for her. She couldn’t bare to risk a sixth broken heart. Though years in the past, her previous five had never truly healed, were still fresh and raw on the rare occasions when she allowed herself to think about them. She feared that potential sixth broken heart, feared that she wouldn’t survive it.

At least by sticking to the streets, she was surviving, if not truly living.

Of course, it seemed like Cat wanted to tease those thoughts out of her regardless. She heard what the other girl was saying, was taking it in, but her thoughts were too far away to provide any of her usual responses. Angel regarded her friend with a frown that wasn’t upset, simply contemplative, and considered her words carefully.

“They’ve got four kids already. Even as big as their house is, there’s going to be a limit to how much they can spare. Of space, of energy, of time, of money. There’s got to be a limit.”

Maybe she just couldn’t grasp the concept of otherwise. On the streets she had days where she was barely scraping by and she was just one person; she couldn’t imagine the possibility of anyone being able to comfortably cover six people all at once and still have enough over to afford to add someone else into the mix. Didn’t help, perhaps, that the biggest family she’d ever been part of had been just four members including her and had still had times of being financially pressed a bit. For a bigger family, it definitely couldn’t be possible, could it?

“I’m sure they’d want to take me if they could…”

Was she? Angel winced at her own words, amended quickly.

“At least, Tenderfoot thinks so. I just don’t see a way they practically can. No need to put that on them.”

[mimeisspeaking]

Beautiful Silence (Kylo Ren x fem!character)

Summary- Kylo Ren wakes up from a nightmare, luckily, he's with his princess.

Warnings- slight mention of death

Word Count- 676

A/N- This isn't my first time writing but it is my first time showing it to someone other than my mom so it's likely not the best. I also uploaded this from my notes app so the format is very weird and gross. Anyway, this is just sleepy Kylo Ren fluff so enjoy!

(p.s. HAPPY PRIDE MONTH BITCHES!!)

Kylo is running. He is running and stars, he's never ran this hard. He's in a forest on some planet he's visited only once. Why is he running? Kylo wants to stop, he knows he can't run forever but he can't stop. It's like his feet have a mind of their own, that mind is stupid.

Suddenly, and by no will of his own, he turns around a tree and starts running a different direction. He starts to hear something he didn't before, water? He's out of the trees now and the sun is beating down on him and damn, why is he still running?! He's not sure how long the running lasted, it felt like hours, but he stops now. There's someone in front of him? Not close enough to see his features but there's definitely someone there. He's turning around and no, no he's dead.

There's no way this is happening, Han Solo is dead. "I am dead, you know better than anyone, don't you?" Han Solo is speaking. How is he speaking? HE'S DEAD!

"Why? WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?" Kylo cries back.

"I am you, Ben. You carry my memory with you, you once carried my name."

Kylo turns back and he runs, it's not his feet this time, he wants to run. It's his will now and he can tell. He's sweating, and his heartbeat is roaring in his ear when-

Kylo opens his eyes.

Quietness.

Beautiful, beautiful silence.

The only sound is the hum of the generator and her quiet, deep breaths. He's in bed with his princess, his queen who deserves way better than him, wrapped into her while laying in a bed that is far too small for him. Kylo's head is resting against her chest, his thumping heart is replaced by the faint beats coming from the other side of her tearstained shirt. He remembers last night..

It was well into the night when Kylo ran out of a meeting that wasn't going his way and found his feet taking him to her room. He had placed his helmet on a table and his shoes beside them when he couldn't hold it in any longer. He pressed his face into the neck of his sleeping beauty and wept. Kylo wept, and she let him. They were in the midst of an argument about Maker knows what yet she still grabbed onto him, turning around and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him into her as she whispered soft affirmations in that perfect voice of hers; "It's not your fault," "I'm not leaving you, Kylo."

Kylo hopes she knows how much he needs this. How much he needs her. He needs to wake up from one of his nightmares, with the sun barely out the window, entangled in her arms. He needs his angel to give him the affection he so craves but will never ask her for.

Kylo's grip on her waist tightens and he pulls her impossibly close, knowing they'll never get close enough to satisfy him. At this movement, his goddess's hand goes straight to his hair, unconsciously massaging his scalp.

He hopes she knows how much he loves her. He's not good at showing it and he understands that. He'll likely crawl out of her bed in a couple of hours, leaving her without his overwhelming body heat and in a cold, lonely bed. He hopes she doesn't think he has to do this because he doesn't want to lay with her until the last star burns out, or because he doesn't want to hold her so tightly in his arms until his muscles constrict. He can't do that, no matter how much he wants to, because he needs his strength, it's all he has. Maybe one day, he'll be able to wake her up with kisses on her lips, her nose, her eyelid. Maybe one day he'll be able to hold onto his princess until his muscles ache.

But for now, he'll close his puffy eyes, this time to dream of beautiful silence.

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

🌒 ☀️ ⛅

Werewolf Billy Russo x Female Reader

Part 5 of my 🌙 series!

Read part 4 here.

Warnings: angst! Mentions of abandonment.

Alsooo, please wish my pal @samhainduchess a very happy birthday! 🎂

"Are you Carla Russo?"

He's having that nightmare again. It's not a nightmare exactly, more of a memory.

He doesn't like to think about it when he's awake, but his brain won't let him forget. He's standing in front of her door, watching the peeling paint, thinking about what he's going to say. The paper with her name and her address is crushed in his hand. He's around sixteen at the time, wondering if they'll look alike. He raises his fist and knocks on the door. The sound echoes through the hallway and his heart jumps in his chest, worrying he's at the wrong door. He isn't expecting some beautiful motherly figure, he knows better, after having seen the state of the building. He knows that only addicts really call this place home.

He's rehearsed what he's going to say to her. He's going to introduce himself, tell her it's nice to meet her, tell her he's not looking for anything more than this meeting. Though he hopes for more, but doesn't every kid in the system?

He gets less than what he's expecting. He gets sullen eyes, pallid skin, messy hair and an ungodly stench. It's his hair though, maybe not the exact texture, but the colour. But a countless number of people have his exact colour hair. Not many have his eyes, though, but she does.

"Are you Carla Russo?" He asks, keeping his voice even, trying not to sound too hopeful.

The woman looks at him. She really looks. She must be doing some kind of mental math with the way she focuses on him.

"Don't know you. Go 'way."

The door closes in his face a moment later.

He thinks about knocking again, about demanding she listen to him. He eventually decides against it, turning away from the door with more pain in his chest than he had before.

That was the second time in his life that his mother had looked at him and decided she didn't want him.

He wakes with a heavy heart. He hated being reminded of that moment. He wishes he could have that memory pulled from his head. It's why he could never let you in, never open up to you. If his own mother didn't find him good enough, why would you?

Mothers were supposed to look at their kids and feel pure, unbridled love. Even soulmates, were supposed to be capable of loving you immensely. But if the first one didn't work for him, then why would the other?

He rubs at his eyes, but stop suddenly when he feels a light flutter in his chest. His sadness being washed away by serenity. It's you, soothing him unintentionally. If you knew that feeling in your chest was him, you probably wouldn't soothe him. No, that's not right, you were kind, sweet, you'd soothe the devil if he was upset. Maybe, just maybe, he could trust you.

There was the other thing though, the deeper the bond got, the more you'd be able to feel him, the easier it would overwhelm you.

He had years of practice in pain management, in loss, sorrow, rage. He knew how to filter these emotions, so that they wouldn't hurt him. But could you? His pain had hurt you so bad last night. He didn't want to hurt you that much ever again, even if it meant hurting you a little now.

He pushes these thoughts from his head as he gets up and moves to start his day.

You wake with an ache in your chest. It's so strong, you struggle to take in a breath. You close your eyes and imagine a place you feel safest, like your therapist taught you. You think about a meadow of flowers, the feeling you once had waking up in his arms. You let out a breath, a smile comes to your face. His arms really were the safest place in the world. Your lip wobbles at the thought of never feeling that ever again.

You breathe easier, opening your eyes. You gasp and sit up.

Holy shit this wasn't your bed.

You look around the room, it's his.

Memories of last night come flooding back and you groan. You definitely made a real fool of yourself. You flop back down, staring at his ceiling for however long, deep in thought. Maybe you'd be able to slip out unnoticed, but that was unlikely given the supernatural nature of your ex.

Fuck. Did you really tell him that you almost loved him last night? God dammit.

You stumble out of bed, groaning when too much light hits your eyes.

You pull open his bathroom door and walk right into him. He's wet, fresh from a shower with only a towel wrapped around his hips. You gasp as you touch his cold skin.

"Oh fuck I'm so sorry!" You say backing off. He laughs, gripping your shoulders to stop you from leaving.

" 'S alright, I'm done, no need to leave." He walks around you. You can't help but stare at his wet back as he leaves.

Damn.

You steal one of his t-shirts, keeping the same leggings you were wearing yesterday.

He's in the kitchen, prepping breakfast and everything feels way too domestic.

"Waffle?" He asks, not turning around when you walk in.

"Sure. Thanks."

You move to grab your phone, checking your messages. Karen needs a favour.

He turns to smile at you, placing a cup of coffee on the space in front of you.

"I'm sorry about last night," you say, "I made it weird. To be fair, it's your fault anyway."

He nods in understanding, turning to get the syrup.

Anxiety tics in you as you start to speak again.

"I guess, the way things ended was a bit unfair to me - no it's in that cupboard over there, yeah- and I was hoping you could give me a proper reason why we broke up?"

He stiffens when you finish your question.

You feel that lump in your throat again. You want to go to him, wrap your arms around him, kiss his chest and stay there indefinitely. You miss him, so much, you don't even hate him, you just want him back.

"Why did we break up?" You ask again, voice small. He looks up at you, and then back down.

He sighs your name.

"I deserve to know. I'm worth at least that. Was it me? Did I do something wrong?" You swallow, "Please, I need to know or I'll never be able to move on."

He blinks. The thought of you moving on burns his chest.

"I know it sounds cliché, but it was me." Billy says, "Something happened, and I'm still not able to process it."

"Then why break up with me? We could have figured it out together."

He shakes his head.

"I don't want to talk about this."

You sigh, clenching your jaw, feeling anger simmering beneath the surface.

You suck in a breath, trying to calm yourself.

You let out a little laugh at the absurdity.

"Sorry, I must be, the dumbest person in the world."

"Yeah, probably," Billy agrees, "I mean, you came back to me, crying like some heartbroken little girl last night. Don't you have any self respect?"

Your lips part in shock. Your heart squeezes as it replays his words. You gather your things angrily. Billy watches without a word.

"Y'know what? Fuck you." You say with shaky breath.

"You wish." He responds easily.

You don't let him see the pain he's caused, only the anger.

He feels it though, he feels the pain and decides that it's for the best. It's better that you hate him.

You walk out, fighting back tears.

"I need your help." Karen says when she picks up the phone.

You laugh, "Yeeees? Whatever you need."

"I need you to be my date to a wedding."

"Anything but that."

"Please! It's my friend's wedding and I need a wingwoman! Free food and open bar, and we'll share a room. Or you can get your own room if you want."

"Sharing sounds like fun, it'll be like old times in college. Why exactly do you need me?"

"I need some support, I'm her bridesmaid and I don't think I can do it alone, keep up with the itinerary without someone there."

You sigh, "Alright, sure. This could be fun." Unlikely.

"Yes! Let's meet up tomorrow to discuss details."

"Sure." You respond, very much unsure.

~

A/N: This part is a little short, so that the next part is life ruining. Thanks for reading! ❤

[autismsubway-remade]

comfort and kittens (aka: purring cats solve all trauma the fic) TC*ST DNI!!!! I WILL EXPLODE YOU

tws for: injury, blood, implied character death (nightmares amirite)

The sky was red and foggy, the smell of smoke and metal thick in the air. Their ventilator had stopped working weeks ago, and they could feel each breath agitating their probably-broken ribs. Their good leg burned with exertion and various still unwashed cuts, and their bad leg (or stump, to be precise) felt like it was about to fall off again. 

Their prosthetic was barely functioning.

But Donnie kept going.

Because Mikey was in much worse shape than they could ever be. Barely alive, pulse fading by the second, blood a steady drip from his nose and mouth.

"Leo, come in Leo! Please, please just answer me you-"

"D-nnie? You'r- cu-tin- out rea– bad."

"Fuck! Leo, Mikey's hurt bad. Please, we need a portal, something, anything! The Kraang is on our trail and-"

The comms cut off. Donnie cursed loudly, shoulders aching from the weight of their battle shell. 

They heard crackling behind them, the sound of metal grating against itself and a loud crash.

"Dee! Fuck, are you alright?"

"Leo, I need you to take Mikey and portal out of here."

"But what about you?"

Donnie placed a hand against their side, grimacing as it came back covered in blood. 

Their blood.

"I'm not done here yet. If I'm gonna die, I'm going out with a bang. Now get out of here!"

"Donnie, please, you don't have to do this! Please, I can't-" Leo's voice broke. "I can't lose you too. What about Casey? And April?"

"They'll understand."

They could hear the Kraang's dogs in the distance.

"They're coming!"

"Donnie, please! Just- Just come with me, I can fix you up-"

"I'm sorry Leo, but you can't."

Donnie pushed Leo into his portal along with Mikey.

"I love you. All of you. I'm sorry I never said it enough."

Mikey's eyes snapped open, frantic and wide.

"DONNI-"

Donatello woke up with a gasp, cold sweat clinging to their skin and side aching. Their hand instinctively went to cover their side, fully expecting their hand to come back covered in blood again.

It didn't.

They looked around, vision blurred without their glasses or contacts.

Donnie took a deep breath once they realized they were in their room.

They were okay.

The door banged open and their heart rate spiked.

They snapped their head towards the door to see Mikey standing in the doorway, hands sparking with a familiar orange energy and tears already welling up in his big blue eyes. 

Suddenly Michelangelo was barreling into their chest, shaking with heaving choked off sobs.

Donnie placed a soft kiss on the top of their little brother's head.

"It's alright Mikey. I'm okay."

They ignored the way their own eyes burned.

Donnie let Mikey sob into their plastron, rubbing his shell while maneuvering a blanket around his shoulders.

"Dee, I- I was so scared. I, I knew what was happening, but I couldn't wake up! It felt so-"

"I know Angelo. I know." Their voice broke softly, betraying their emotions.

"I keep having them. The- The dreams, or memories. Leo 'nd Raph too. But.. That was the first time you were in one."

"Well, at least I looked cool." Donnie chuckled wetly. They held Mikey closer, shaking.

"I- Fuck, I thought you were gonna die, Mikey. I don't-" Their voice hitches on a sob, tears finally falling. "I don't think I could handle that. I know I couldn't."

Mikey sniffles and looks up at Donnie.

"I couldn't either..I don't wanna keep seeing these memories Dee. I don't need to know how future me died and yet I do. We all do now."

"Yeah. That's fucked."

"And Casey. He-" Mikey chokes back another sob. "He barely even knows Raph. He saw both me and Leo die right before coming back here. He doesn't deserve that. He's just a kid.."

"So are we, Angelo. It's fucked up." Donnie whispers, pulling Mikey close enough to hear his heartbeat and letting the relief soothe them.

"Is..Is it bad that I wanna check on him? And the rest of our brothers? I just.."

"Need to know they're okay. I get it. Lemme get my glasses quickly."

Donnie wipes their eyes before pulling on their favorite purple hoodie and putting on their glasses. Mikey wraps the blanket tighter around himself.

They both walk over to the living room to see Raph, Leo and Casey around each other in a pile. Leo is the only one awake.

He takes one look at both of their tearstained faces and sighs. 

"One of those nights, huh?"

"Yeah. I was thinking of taking Angelo up to the surface with me for some fresh air."

"Alright, just be careful. I'll make sure to tell Raph if he wakes up before you're back."

"Thanks 'Nardo. Love you."

"Ah, you both had the Donnie Dream I see."

"The one where I die? Yeah. We did."

Leo clicks his tongue softly.

"Yeah, that's one of the worst ones. Anyways, go get your fresh hairs or whatever. Love you too, by the way. Also, you should put something on Mikester. It's cold out."

Mikey grabs a hoodie quickly and pulls it on.

Leo idly pets Casey's hair as he sleeps and shoos the two away.

Donnie and Mikey make their way out of the lair and Donnie takes them into a familiar alleyway.

"So, where are we going?"

"You'll see."

"I think I hear.."

Mikey gasps when they stop in front of a box. Inside is a pile of wriggling, energetic kittens.

"Behold! It's babies!"

Mikey squeals as quietly as possible. The kittens squeal back, jumping at Donnie's hand.

"Yes, yes, I know, you're hungry despite eating all the time."

They sit down on the ground and let the kittens climb over their hoodie. The smallest one mews loudly as it beelines towards their shoulder, licking Donnie's cheek excitedly. Donnie chuckles.

Mikey looks on in awe.

"Sit down Angelo, they're very friendly I promise. Though they do nip, as they're teething."

Mikey sits down and tries not to shake too much as three kittens jump off of Donnie and into his lap. The kitten on Donnie's shoulder purrs loudly.

"What's that ones name? The one on your shoulder?"

"Her name is Bitty, because she's very small."

"I love her. So. Much."

"Me too, Mikey."

"We should take her home! She really likes you!"

"I'd have to ask her mother permission first."

Donnie makes a 'pspspspsp' noise with their mouth and a larger cat comes running by, tail up in the air and nearly vibrating. 

"Oh, is that Momma?"

"Yep! Her name is Megabyte because she kept biting me at first."

Mikey laughs as Megabyte curls up in Donnie's lap and bats at their fingers playfully.

"I think you're about to have two cats Dee."

"Yeah, probably." Megabyte grabs her daughter off of Donnie's shoulder and starts grooming her despite her very loud protests. Mikey scoots closer to Donnie and the kittens on his lap begin climbing onto their mother. 

"There's only three other kittens..And there's three more of us…"

"Mikey.."

"C'mon Dee! Pleeeease?" Mikey gives Donnie his best puppy eyes, and Donnie feels their heart quickly starting to melt. 

"..Fine. I'll bring them down in the box. It has their blankets and toys in it."

"How long have you been caring for Megabyte and her kittens?"

"About 5 weeks now."

"Ohhh…Did you see them when they were little beans?"

"In fact, I did!"

"AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME?!"

"To be fair, Megabyte was still slightly aggressive at that point."

Mikey huffs and pouts exaggeratedly.

"Well, at least I get to see them now!"

An orange kitten climbs into Mikey's lap and starts playfully biting at his fingers and kneading his thigh.

Mikey makes a sound like a deflating balloon.

"You can name that one. He's the biggest of the litter, but he used to be kind of a runt."

"I'm naming him Burrito."

"...Fitting."

The time passes quietly, the kittens and their mom falling asleep in a soft purring pile. Donnie scoops them gently into the box they prepared for them. Mikey gets up and dusts off his knees and they both make their way back to the lair.

Raph, Casey and Leo wake up to a kitten asleep on each of their heads, and Megabyte curls up next to Splinter on his couch.

Burrito falls asleep in Mikey's hoodie pocket, and Bitty curls up against Donnie's shoulder.

The next time April visits she's swarmed by excited kittens and nearly has a heart attack then and there.

[justsomeectoplasm]

So you mentioned how Ori Children who are adopted never forget their memories of Eden and Orbit, and let me just say that that concept has infested my mind. I can imagine a former Ori Child, having long since forgotten their older life, being haunted by memories they don't really understand anymore. Of being in a nightmarish place—Eden, how do they know what it's called when they've never before heard that word—they otherwise couldn't have fathomed, giving up everything they were, and rising to a light-saturated starfield—Orbit. The name feels so right to say, in the most mournful way—that feels so much like a home they miss but can never return to, and maybe that isn't such a bad thing in spite of the subtle ache that surfaces whenever it's recalled in the nights were the stars are bright with a feeling of familiarity.

or something idk

I love you anon.

So this ask caught me when I was thinking of aging of ori children, but I never really mentioned how it's like having an ori child as your own child. I was thinking of doing a mini comic series for the urban fantasy (Still planning and I don't know if I want to continue it for long. Just have to write the whole dialogue and see how it goes)

So without further ado:

Having an ori child as your own child is, to say the least, kind of challenging. They tend to fly off at random times in the beginning and they also go to places they're not suppose to out of curiosity. Or the candles they'll stockpile in their rooms.

It's tough, but they're extremely sweet and compassionate, often helping others and their family to the best of their abilities and they see the good in people (well, most of them at least)

But the biggest challenge you would have to face is the nightmares.

The nightmares will start to appear when their memories of the kingdom will start to fade away. It's sort of a way that the soul inside of them is still believing that they are a skykid and it's desperately trying to pick out memories to remind them of their past. But since the other memories are faded, the soul picks the most vivid one: Eden and orbit.

The end and the beginning of an ori child.

As a parent, it's going to be difficult when you wake up to your child screaming from a nightmare, or losing sleep over their memories. It's best to comfort them as much as you can during these nightmares. If you are a magic user, it's best to conjure sleeping spells or potions that will grant the user better dreams, only until the nightmares have stopped.

It's going to be difficult, but you will have to grit your teeth and bare it. The "nightmare" phase lasts only for 3 months. Of course not every night will be sleepless for an ori child, but expect the nightmares to appear frequently during these 3 months.

After the eden nightmares, their soul will try to grab memories from orbit and these times it will be more forgiving and peaceful. The child will sleep better then before and you don't have to use any spells for it.

This "Nightmare" phenomenon only happens with skykids who lived before the fall of darkness. Skykids born afterwards won't have these nightmares.

[cyberneticlagomorph]

You don't know when you went to sleep or how long you've been unconscious for, time flows differently in the Corridors, but you wake up in Peepo's coils surrounded by all manner of dust bunny and couch snake feeling extremely hungover. 

You sit up a little too fast and the resulting wave of pain and nausea rips through you so hard that you freeze in place for a solid several minutes until it ebbs away and it's safe enough to move. 

Memories of the frenzy back in that fake Candyland come back to you, and you feel your empty stomach spasm angrily on reflex. 

It's been ages since you've felt this sick.

You never want to see or taste another piece of candy in your life.

But that's unimportant. 

You came down here for a reason and something tells you that your time outside the game unharmed is very limited. 

It takes some jostling to get Peepo going, with him giving you baleful looks the entire time as if to say "18 years, you don't call, you don't write and yet you expect me to get up and go like old times… just like that! You're lucky I love you."

Peepo doesn't talk, he just makes faces at you and by some miracle of understanding you can decipher entire sentences from each minute expression. The rules that govern Imaginary Friends are even more ineffable and esoteric than normal magic and you've made no attempt to understand either. 

It's awhile before you find what you're looking for. 

The Corridors that run beneath (well "beneath") your house specifically. They're so clotted with mucuslike strands and dried clumps of nightmare fluid that they resemble a nose with allergies. The smell of damp places and blood is overwhelming and threatens to bring up what little you have left in your stomach.

Still, you press on.

Peepo refuses to follow you in, giving you a skeptical glare that very clearly asks if you're insane and then says not to answer that because of course you are, who could be sane and Imagine ME?

The Corridors pulsate like intestines undergoing peristalsis, veins of Nightmare webbing the walls and adding an uncomfortably organic quality to the space.

It's warm here, too warm for the Corridors. 

And humid, like the sour breath of a sick person.

You peer from the shadows into the light places of your house and feel your little watch-heart ache so profoundly that it stops momentarily. 

Egg lays sleeping on her little toast bed on the floor of her bedroom. Someone has thrown a blanket over her, but it's much too big so it rises in soft peaks behind her before sprawling across the floor. 

All her plush toys are wrapped in plastic and spell-tape to prevent the infection from spreading to them, so she's holding her rope toy close the way a normal kid might hold a teddy bear. Her nails are getting long, they'll need to be trimmed soon and someone hasn't been washing her face enough. 

You can see the familiar crust around her eyes from here.

Harmless brown eye boogers like small dogs have. Egg has a medicated face wash and some drops to help with it, but they only work if they're used regularly. 

You want to hold her. 

Tuck your face between her ears and breathe in her baby shampoo and sour milk smell while she purrs and squirms and tries to bite your face. 

She's so much bigger than when you saw her last and want with every fiber of your being for that to be due to a growth spurt and not you shrinking. 

It feels like tearing your own guts out when you turn away and keep walking on.

Cereza, your wife, is asleep when you find her. Half curled in the big armchair by the kitchen hearth with two more of your children dreaming in her lap.

You try to ignore the trickle of black goo running from her left eye and down her cheek. 

Your son, Ambrose, is sitting in the hearth wreathed in his usual bruise colored flames. Being a ghost type pokemon, you aren't sure he actually can sleep but he seems to enjoy pretending. 

Even though you haven't made a sound this entire time, Ambrose stares directly at you from the fire and gives you an excited wave. You watch in horror as he crawls towards the shadows you're hiding in.

You stare at each other for awhile.

Ambrose lays on the ground and curls up, thumb in his mouth, thick waxy bangs melting over one bright yellow eye. 

"Hi bud," you whisper, keeping your distance, you don't want him to touch you and possibly get sick,  "you doing ok?"

Ambrose nods enthusiastically. 

You smile, "Good good, are your moms OK? And your dads? What about Nonna?"

Wavy noncommittal hand motions. 

"Sounds about right, can you do me a favor?"

Nod.

"Make sure Egg's washing her face really good, and that someone cuts her nails, ok?"

Nod nod.

"Good." You start to sink back into the shadows, Ambrose makes a little noise in his throat but doesn't move. Closing his big yellow eyes and pretending to sleep. 

Right.

One more stop, then you have to go.

Something glitters in the tunnel up ahead, the desiccated corpse of a dust bunny hangs from a gooey strand, still stubbornly clutching an earring in its paws.

You recognize that earring, it belongs to your wife Jeanne. 

It's as old as she is, and dreadfully important to her.

She's been looking for it for months.

…OK, two more stops AND THEN you have to leave. 

You find Jeanne on her way to bed, dark circles under her eyes, one of the cats at her heels. You slide the earring into her path and hope she doesn't step on it.

She stops in her tracks, gazing at the earring in confusion before picking it up and inspecting it. 

Her eyebrows knit and she drops to the floor in a crouch, looking under furniture. You clap both paws over your mouth and duck back into deeper shadows before she can find your hiding place. 

She peers under the couch that you're hidden beneath, but doesn't see you.

You want her to.

You want her to find you so bad. 

To take you into her arms and crush you in a hug until there is nothing left but you and her and warmth and love.

She's so close.

Beautiful gray eyes boring into the dark inches away from you.

You could reach out and touch her if you really wanted. 

But you don't. 

You stay still and quiet until she mutters something under her breath about Brownies and goes back to whatever it was she was doing. 

You crawl away towards your last stop and ignore the fat tears rolling down your face. 

Your real body is chained to a hospital bed in deep quarantine, fitted with IVs, a feeding tube and a number of beeping machines dedicated to keeping you alive with as little human intervention as possible. 

Your eyes are caked shut with nightmare fluid, nose and mouth crusted over like scabs. It's even coming out of your ears. 

The bruises on your skin tell a clear story about just how many times your meat suit has gotten the fine idea to try and get up on its own. 

It hurts to look at, so you don't stay here long. 

Making your way back to Peepo in a daze, you climb onto his back and slither off in no particular direction. 

You need to find your brother. 

And even though you have no idea where he could be. 

Sleeping dragons are rarely ever subtle. 

[hughiecampbelle]

Vulcan (Arthur Shelby Oneshot) Pt. 2/12

Character/s: Arthur

Word Count: 1,145

Tag List: @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @myriadimagines @lilyswritings @encounterthepast @writerdream22 @death-of-a-mermaid @woahitslucyylu @obsessedunicorn24 @thedarkqueenofavalon @fangirlsarah16 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @theshelbyclan @creativemayhems @soleil-dor @thegirlwithoutaname87 @babylooneytoonz @peakyxtommy @locke-writes

A/N: Hello I'm a liar I stayed up v late to write this and I'm too impulsive and impatient not to post it asap!!! I hope this one is as good as the first!!! And makes you want to read more!!! Again this is my first BIG series which is kinda scary considering there was a time I thought I'd never be able to write more than 500 words! Look at me now :D Anyways, be sure to check out part one my loves and I just really hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💖💜

Gif Credit: @peakycillianblinders :)

FIC MASTERLIST PART ONE. / PART TWO. / PART THREE.

WANNA BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST?

ROMAN GODS SERIES: Jupiter /Juno / Mars / Vulcan / Mercury / Minerva / Neptune / Venus / Pluto / Janus / Caelus / Apollo

You are no more human than himself.

Nothing, though, more human than mans own emotions. The very things that beat and pound against the cage of his ribs, breaking every bone, tearing through himself in an effort to conceal until he is nothing but ruins himself, until there is no fight left. The very things that rule him. Control and berate his spirits better than any blood could. It's not their words spoken behind closed doors, or the distance they put between themselves, but their expressions. The pity. The disgust. The horror. As if he is less, as if he were mortal. Atop their pedestals they are in power, in control, their true selves hidden behind masks. He lives truthful, exposed, waiting for infection. Begging for it. Few can understand, fewer sympathize, but from the moment you looked at him, watched the lines in his forehead crease, his mouth fall, his entire outward being change, you knew. How could Gods possibly live among their people and not pick up a few habits? Not just the things they mirrored with ease. Joy, sadness, even anger became second nature. He was burdened with more, with complications. Anger became fury, rage, bitterness, even destruction.

They were scared not because they could not understand what it felt to hurt so deeply, to bleed to freely, but because pride lived in him where they felt nothing but shame. Shame for screaming, crying, sobbing. For finding their knees weak, breakable, their spirits broken, their worlds shattering before their eyes. Shame for falling, shattering, letting themselves be weak, vulnerable, human. He was not. Openly, he let these things seep through his words, his actions, carrying it on his back when there was no where else to put it, never daring to put up a front of invulnerability. Gods could be fragile, too.

And just as they could be fragile, they were dangerous.

Not once would he let you forget that.

You never saw it. Not when it was happening. When his arms grew tired, when his back ached, when his eyes saw red. The myths, the stories, the thing of nightmares. Horrifying. Truly horrifying. In his prime, nothing left unharmed, untouched. Pushed to the edge, he didn't just fall, he put on a goddamn show. Sometimes you wished to watch, see for yourself what it was that made others shake, what made them leave everything they had in his name, praying for joy. Sometimes you decided it was better to leave it up to your imagination. You were there after though, ordered to clean up, collect his pieces, hold him together until someone more familiar put him back together again. He trusted you, for what reason you still questioned. Let you get close enough to hush his own unrecognizable sobs, plucking the gun, knife, pipe from his weak hand, wipe the red from his cheek. Still wet. It wasn't a fall from grace, not exactly, but a taste, a glimpse of how fragile ones world really was when immortals lost their grip. Just as they could play nice, offer riches, they could leave nothing but ash in their wake.

Little fires everywhere.

The ruins were magnificent. Shocking, and amazing. Homes unrecognizable. Bodies shredded, anonymous now, without worth. The grass and trees blackened, smoking even as the sun rose, welcoming a new day. You never could get used to the smell of burning flesh, the stinging in your lungs enough to bring tears to your eyes. The clouds grey, moody, as far as you could see. A reminder, as if the unsettled silence weren't enough. All that's left is the quiet cry of the crackling fire, weaker and weaker with every passing second. He could not bear to look. A man gone blind in his rage. You'd seen it enough with the mortals to know. Humans had a funny way of wanting to protect themselves, their psyche, even at their most destructive. Funny, and odd. He possessed these same traits. Weakened by what he's done, exhausted, there is not another threat of this for a long time. But when it comes, because it always does, he'll scorch the new earth, this new life, without hesitation.

Sometimes, it's not an outward cry, but inward. A gun to his head, the metal kissing his temple goodnight. The rope around his neck, soft against his skin. The booze sweet, tempting, making his steps light and careless. Someone is there before it's too late, before there is no God left, easing him off the ledge the way they think they'll always have to. This you do not see. You do not hear. This is kept among gods, another secret they are sworn to, another thing they can use against one another. But you know, as you would. And again, you understand. Stitched across his features. A crime not yet committed. In due time, he promises, without a single word, and you believe him. Succumbed to his emotions. He does not berate them, or belittle, but joins them, knowing, despite how much it hurts, how beautiful they really can be.

Something none of them could begin to understand.

All of this is worth the euphoria, the tears of joy, walking the thin line between elation and madness, even if it only lasts one second.

Lower on the ranks, the impoverished class, fresh blood, sent to do the work no one else wanted because you had no other choice. Unlike the rest, he was eager to join, to help, anything to rid himself of his own guilt, gain back the respect he's lost. A glance is all you share. That of secrecy. Those moments, where he is shattered, the source of so much heartache, kept between you. Not out of personal gain, for leverage, but because you, too, have found yourself the cause, not the affect. The rest underestimate, overlooking, never meeting your eyes, but he is careful. He doesn't know, none do, but he is one of few who see man and God all the same. Strengths and weaknesses. Pain and suffering. Love and war. A multitude of pieces, each worthy in their own right of respect, of understanding and patience. One is not only their mistakes, their faults, all the things that keep them awake at night, just as they are not only their vigor, their vitality, all the battles they've won. They are all of them, and more, things he cannot even see, nor begin to comprehend. So, he looks you in the eye, as he does the others, regardless of who they take orders from.

As long as he's concerned, with that cap, you're one of them. The rest of the family, they differentiate, they seclude, they draw a line right down the middle. Us and them. Worthy and unworthy. Those that decide and those to be disposed.

Not Arthur, though.

He is different.

[acheez]

the only thing that makes that thought hurt more is the possibility of watching them sleep and have a nightmare about your death while you're still there, safe, alive and sound, the agony evident in their murmuring and how they almost crush you in a hug before even thinking after opening their eyes and seeing you, making it clear that they do in fact, love you more than they'd ever dare to confess and there's no one else, you're just not the one for them and you'll never be cause you whole life is a blink for them...you're just not worth all the suffering they'll face when you're gone

– 🦁

imagine entering their room, just you choose who to visit that night when suddenly you stop in front of their door when you hear soft whimpers and the shuffling of bedsheets. opening the door slightly and poking your head you see them moving in their sleep, eyes shut close and hands grabbing the bedsheets with a tight grip. "Dont go" "don't leave me" are the phrases you catch in your shock. You just simply dont know what to do. Wake them up? They might wake up in their demon form and hurt you so the most suitable option is for you to softly call their name until they wake up in a cold sweat shouting your name.

their eyes are puffy, evident they either cried themselves to sleep or they cried during the nightmare. they are drench in sweat, tou can clearly see their disrupted form and even glimps of embarrassment and sadness in their eyes.

However, the moment they catch your sympathetic smile, their eyes widen in surprise, hurrying themselves to go out of bed and hug you tight, another set if tears streaming down their faces and into your night clothes. The action says all their voice cant communicate. The pain in their hearts mixed with the relief of seeing you, feeling you. But it also aches.

It aches every day, every day that passes by. They swallow the 'I love you's' the confessions and the honesty. They hide their real them, to protect themselves for what's to come the day you arent there to wake them up from the nightmare. You are not for them, you were not made for loving them cause that implication comes with even more suffering. They can't allow themselves to love you for one simple fact.

The moment you go, is the moment the nightmares come true.

[valeriahornyy]

The Creatures do work like cleaning to earn money, there's a shop near the very bottom so they can buy stuff

Phineas actually takes care of the whales and other marine life, meanwhile Aurla tries to kill them

Spooky's and Eyth's magic seems to make people stop aging or at least stop aging at a certain age, which explains why Spooky is still 12, 15 years later

Speaking of magic involving Spooky and Eyth, they were brought back to life by the ssme thing (along with Taker), that thing being one of the specimen 1s, that being Jeli

The Demon child was a child that was murdered in the kid's hospital and was brought back by Jeli as a demon, although it seemd she's trying to resist the magic that's trying to make her evil by hiding in a mirror

Some of the kill counts for Specimens are inaccurate as those a few were actually caused by the 1s (E.i, Bab, Jasper, Chomper..)

Phineas / Fin really liked marine life, mainly dolphins, Jeli got an idea and used his magic to make him go wild, causing him to operate on himself, everyone thinks he did it for his love of dolphins but Fin was just mind controlled

Lines' body ends at the end of his torso

Lines' speech tends to get distorted (backwards speech, random muting, glitching)

Paina was AI for sunshine academy but got out via Spec.1 magic, yet she can still be developed further

Subject 5s are named 5 as they are the 5th Specimen 3s, the others died either in testing, having to be exterminated or they just. Dissapeared

Lisa and Bab tend to get along very well due to their shyness

Bekka likes to blast music just to make everyone mad lol

Jaime has honks own dimension, it sometimes goes to it to see how everything is going (the dimension being an abandoned theme park)

They let other Specimens, monsters, dolls and unknowns in to play, although xe makes them leave after a while, claiming that staying for too long is risky

Hooky was a runaway and went to the mansion for security, didn't work out as planned for her

Parry isn't just red, xey can be green and blue too

When Parry has a host, xey are asleep and someone enters xem, the host will have trouble knowing where the person is, only when under xey're control or when xey are awake can the host know exactly where they are

Parry and Stanely are like roommates, they get along sometimes but they fight and annoy each other a lot

Stanely also has a furry coat

When first encountering Parry, xey were a greenhouse, xey kept trying to scare him and lock doors but he just kept pulling through, xey tried getting him attacked by ferocious plants and only let him have a scythe but he still lived, Parry got angry and tried xeir last trick was to turn into a mansion and hang him, and it worked

In some of the crates, Aurla has some things like files, or just random papers, in others there's some beach toys, in others theres drawings Bab made for him, that's another reason he doesn't get on the crates, he doesn't wanna accidentally break them

Lines can travel via electricity (through telephone poles, computers, wires.. obv he can't leave the mansion tho)

Taker and White Face are one of the biggest frenemies, they usually only get along when trying to harm others and most of the time they just argue

Tirsiak used to be extremely cold and mean to everyone besides Kanerek, he wanted nothing to do with anyone fearing they'd hurt him or he'd get attached only to lose them, but after a while of basically forced friendship activities he warmed up to Bab first and then slowly to everyone, hes still a prick but he's doing better

The ones made their own mansion, they only took in monsters that were similar to the creatures from Spooky's or made their own

They were created as back up and to challenge the others. They represent what the originals (reffering to the ones in Spooky's) don't wanna be and their trauma. The ones liked to joke and call some of them coincidences and calk them rip offs

Lisa is welsh and has a bit of an accent

None of the hospital monsters have forgiven Eyth for what xey did, it affected them all and Eyth takes it as a joke, xey constantly make fun of the monsters for being "petty"

Bekka and Jon are the only ones fluent in Japanese but their accent shows sometimes

Bekka has a lot of medical and biology based knowledge but is still a complete dumbass when it comes to almost anything else

Lisa hasn't and never will forgive her ex husband for shooting her. Hell she's happy that he's probably dead

Lisa has frequent aches and pains all around her body

Bekka REALLY likes chocolate

Tirsiak is very good at archery and hunting, as apposed to Kanerek who's pretty mediocre

Tirsiak used a spell to give himself antlers and appear more masc

Tirsiak had died in the past but never realized, his necklace kept him somewhat alive and is what gives him his powers

Bab sometimes cleans his sword, he's dissapointed in himself that it got a bit rusty as that sword used to belong to his dad

Aurla can talk to marine creatures and loves to take care of the landsharks

Jasper was interested in how humans made food so he'd often steal recipe books and try making things himself and when he got to the mansion, Otto helped him out

Jasper doesn't like being viewed as a fast food worker or manager, he just wanted to protect his kin from constantly being used as food

Spooper sees Lisa as his mom because his old parents were abusive and Lisa is the mother he never got to have

This makes Lisa very happy

Kal is like an older brother to Spooper

Bekka's hands are black due to frostbite

Noah is very good at reading people, mainly because of his own experience. He's very good at telling if you're lying, sad, happy, sketchy..

Noah had to be bumped down to a hospital patient due to an incident and Bekka was his nurse

Noah usually has to change his bandages, he thinks he looks hideous but most people think otherwise (especially Jon)

Tirsiak used to be very cold and aggressive towards everyone as stated before, his best friend had died thanks to Ben in the past and he lost his tribe and family. He trusted no one

Once he learned how to speak english better he would learn to cuss out and shoo most people away. He only trusted Kanerek

Bab always tried to be his friend but was regularly pushed away even if all Tirsiak wanted deep down was a friend again, he was just afraid of losing everything again so if there was nothing to love there was hardly anything to lose.

It took a long time of lectures but one day he noticed Bab didn't seem to get the hint. Actually it never seemed like they did. Tirsiak gave in and let Bab just hang around, Tirsiak was surprised to find that he somewhat enjoyed Bab's presence.

He started to be less of an ass, he let Bab just hang out with him.

Maybe having friends again wouldn't be a huge risk?

He decided to be a bit nicer, he's still harsh and agressive but makes an effort to make friends and be nice

He found that he really liked Hooky and Ringu, at first he merely thought they were attractive but now he really does love them

Tirsiak learned english via the others teaching him and him repeating what others said. That's where he got his voice lines from, he stole them from Kanerek (and she ended up changing hers)

Lisa knows sign language

Bab's mom was trying to contact him in the afterlife via the cult and the cult tbought she was mother. One day her grasp and connection was slipping and she told thet cult that Bab was the new mother

Despite this, Bab never planned to be a mother, but then came the landsharks

Bab doesn't mind being their mother figure

Lisa sometimes gets carried away and will write their thoughts or make random doodles on notes made for chases

Lisa likes to listen to music while drawing, Bekka will let her borrow her MP3 and headphones when they're hanging out

Lisa has tourretes and autism and often hums and twitches

They'll flail their hands and tip toe as a happiness stim

Jasper has major sensory issues and the slightest High pitch, weird looking thing, anything that feels uncomfortable, or smells bad or extremely strong it'll will drive him off the walls

Lisa was taken away from the hospital while trying to hide from GLA and when she reunited with the hospital monsters, whenever they sense a GLA is coming they get hostile and if Lisa is over, Bekka won't let go of her until they're gone

The dolls sometimes disobey Spooky and GLA because of how bitter they are about what happened

Hooky tends to drown her sorrows in alcohol and it's become a regular thing for her

Because of how GLA treated him, whenever Charles feels any negative emotion coming on he'll go to sleep, it often results in nightmares but the emotions most of the time go away and he feels better when he wakes up

Frenzy has tried helping them but Husker knows all too well that there's no helping them

Clicky doesn't regret killing her dad, she always knew he was a bad man

She also just doesn't care

She never cared if her mom was unwell, she never cared if her friends were hurt. Sure she has some sympathy for the mansion residents but not much

Clicky likes waking people up with her constant clicking

She can detach herself from walls and walk freely, not very easily but she can still do it

Hooky, despite it being part of the reason she's in the doll, treasures hooks and many slim sharp objects

Although she also has an interest for anchors and morning stars

Frenzy often bakes small things like cookies and cupcakes for people and shares it's recipes with Jasper and Otto

Otto, despite seeming like he'd be a dumbass, does have common sense

He takes no shit from White Face, constantly triea to tell off Tirsiak for being a dumbass, gives Lisa the rudest reassurance and just ignores Spooper and Kal

He's friends with Jasper but even he admits that Jasper isn't very bright

Otto can swim and is warerproof

The pizza he gives you is poisoned, but it usually fails or takes a long ass while to kick in no matter how many times he's tried different poisons

Otto is aware of the whole FNAF thing and hates being seen as some FNAF rip off and being called the names of the animatronics from FNAF

Otto used to be a cook before he died and was stuffed inside of Otto The Otter

Spooper will sometimes change his costume to sort of socialize and copy others (dressing in all black because of Bekka, wolf outfit because of Tirsiak, face paint for Jaime..)

Hooky is drunk when he chases you

Husker is emotionally detached and has no desire to be attached to anyone, it just knows they exist and pays no mind to them

Jaime doesn't like scaring people and admits that she wishes she didn't look so ugly

WF used to be bullied to a breaking point

She gets overly attached and easily falls in love with whoever even tolerates her

She is aware people can die from her game but she just wants literally any fun even if it's for a short while

She loves to wear dresses and likes to appear femminine, and HER is unsurprisingly her favorite form to take

WF constantly picks on everyone due to her past, shyer and weaker people are often her main victims

She loves teasing Lisa all the time and is often super rude to them even though deep down, WF does care about Lisa a little

Bekka has a room saved for Lisa for whenever they come over to visit to the hospital

They love watching movies together and hanging out

They're also super comfortable with each other and will fall asleep together

The deformity wing in the hospital is a psychological torture chamber Eyth made

Some of the residents have tried exploring it but either got lost or got scared and ran out

Lector loves to make sure things are spotless and perfect, if it's body bag gets even the smallest stain it'll be pissed

Taker has a collection of stuffed toys but doesn't tell anyone

He thinks they're cute

Bab found out and hasn't said a word about it to anyone

Bab also thinks plushies are cute and will often help him in his collecting

Taker is surprisingly a good babysitter, the kids adore him

It loves to get into mischief with whoever it's supposed to be babysitting and pull pranks

Tirsiak has a stuffed toy of a wolf that Hooky made for it

It treasures it dearly and doesn't let anyone touch it

It even sleeps with the toy

There's a sewed on heart on it too

Sleeping with it reminds him of Hooky

Ringu and Hooky love cuddling Tirsiak because he's fuzzy and Tirsiak and Ringu Love cuddling Hooky because soft

Ringu is also cuddle material to them

Hooky is good at knitting and making plushies

If anyone tries flirting with the creatures it often times leaves them confused or angry or both

The most common one to take the flirt and possibly flirt back is White Face

Bab used to have a girlfriend but they broke up because her gf was an asshole to others

Fleshy is very good at reading people, they're even better than Noah

Kat can too but is too apathetic to care

Kat forces a smiley face and a good attitude when Fleshy is soon about to chase them to give the victim a false sense of hope

Fleshy often has to calm down or stop Kat from being overly angry

Fleshy can hear the other souls but is also capable of tuning them out

Kat is the spirit of a GLA who was used for testing and nya killed Fleshy out of rage

Kat is capable of giving souls and bodies to fleshy but doesn't want to because xe doesn't care

Kat fucking hates other cats, hell xey hate almost everything

Fleshy on the other hand loves everything but doesn't love some organisms enough to let them live

Fleshy loves to cause trouble and is a general nuisance

Bekka hates wearing pink

Ben loves making and trying on outfits and will willingly wear dresses and anything embarrassing

Goop can be mixed with other substances but it makes him uncomfortable

Goop boils and heats up when he's mad

Two and Three are capable of reproducing asexually, but choose not to because they know not a lot of people wanna deal with mini S3s

Lines is quick to anger and violence

Her body is electrical when she's angry

So

Yeah

That's gotta hurt

Lisa has dyspraxia and autism

Bekka has ADHD

Whoa. (゜o゜;

[whump-but-make-it-gay]

I posted 42 times in 2021

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17 posts reblogged (40%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.7 posts.

I added 85 tags in 2021

#whump - 29 posts

#regina mills - 8 posts

#once upon a time - 8 posts

#original content - 8 posts

#lady whump - 7 posts

#reblog - 6 posts

#febuwhump2021 - 6 posts

#febuwhump - 5 posts

#whumpee - 4 posts

#whumperflies - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 69 characters

#i actually want to get things done but i make posts like this instead

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Whump starters:

I’m/they’re not dead

“How am I not dead?“

“There was no way you could have survived this.”

“It’s good to hear your voice”

I’m not dead?”

“Why didn’t they kill you?”

“Seeing you, I can’t even tell if I made it to heaven or if I’m stuck in hell”

“What do you mean ‘alive’?”

“I’m so glad you made it”

“I don’t ever want to get called by the hospital again, telling me you are in surgery”

“You made it”

“Don’t worry, I got you”

“Shhh. Everything is fine now”

Feel free to add more

32 notes • Posted 2021-07-06 19:05:41 GMT

#4

Whump tropes: Nightmares/Insomnia

Whumpee has nightmares and never sleeps through a night, which shows because they are always exhausted

Caretaker tries to wake Whumpee from their nightmare, but even when they wake up, they can't snap out of it

Whumpee gets violently waken up by their disgusting nightmare and throws up on the floor next to the bed. They are ashamed of having such a strong reaction

Whumpee tries to clam down after a violent nightmare and makes themself a cup of tea. When they try to drink it, their hands shake so much that they spill the hot liquid all over themself

Whumpee can't remember the nightmare, but wakes up with a tear wet pillow, aching muscles and sweaty clothes

Whumpee is so scared in their nightmare that they wet the bed. They are very embarrassed and try to hide it from Caretaker, who is very concerned about their night terrors

Caretaker hears Whumpee crying for help at night. As soon as they open Whumpee's bedroom door Whumpee is screaming in their sleep "Please no. Stop. No!"

Whumpee is restless and avoids sleeping, because they know as soon as they close their eyes the nightmares will come back

Caretaker visits Whumpee and notices the dark circles under their eyes or heavy make up to conceal them

Whumpee can't sleep at night so they constantly fall asleep in the middle of the day, just to wake up abruptly again

Whumpee wanders through the quiet house, because they can't fall asleep

Whumpee is unable to sleep in a bed, because of what Whumper did to them. Caretaker finds them asleep on the floor, in their closet, on the tiles in the bathroom or on the couch and tries to help Whumpee to sleep in a bed again

Whumpee has to take sleeping pills but refuses to put themself on medication

Feel free to add more 😊

35 notes • Posted 2021-01-06 15:58:13 GMT

#3

Whump idea

How to fuck your whumpee up:

Capture your whumpee and put them in a dark or dimmed room. Cover the walls with mirrors or just put a mirror in the room. Whumper is drugging Whumpee (through food, water,...). When Whumpee passes out or is so drugged up that they can't see or think straight anymore, whump them. Hurt them, break their bones, cut their hair, hit them, do whatever you like. When Whumpee wakes up again, they should have little to no memory of how they got the cuts, bruises, and what not. Now have them wondering what happened, how they were violated and so on. Seeing their body in the mirror/mirrors will not help their mental state. They'll start talking to themselves, flinching away from their shadow and reflection. Simply watch them descending into madness as Whumper does the process over and over again, until Whumpee is broken and afraid of themselves.

40 notes • Posted 2021-04-19 10:31:54 GMT

#2

Whump prompts

Finding sick whumpee sentence starters:

“Please don’t make this our weekly thing.”

“God, I as worried sick about you. Never do this again”

“I’m no doctor, but this should not look like this.’

“Seriously? No thank you or anything? Okay, collapsing is just fine I guess.”

“When we get home you’re laying down and get some rest. Before you start, this is not up for debate.”

“Okay come on. We both know that you can’t stand on your own. Please just let me pick you up and we both prevent anymore injuries.”

“What have they done to you? How can i help you?"

“You need to get checked out. You can’t even stand on your own.”

“I told you this was a bad idea, but you would’nt listen.”

“If you ever do something like this again I will kill you myself.”

“And that’s why we don’t play hero but wait until help comes.”

“Don’t ever scare me like this again. I thought I had lost you.”

48 notes • Posted 2021-02-06 10:18:20 GMT

#1

Small things and details really give me whumperflies, like the cracking noise of a bone, flinching at movements, tensing under touches, blurring or spinning vision, haunted looks in the dark, lip biting bc of anxiety or PTSD, nightmares and waking up in cold sweat

78 notes • Posted 2021-04-14 10:25:19 GMT

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