#could you imagine seeing this guy in front of you hes a literal walking war machine and it turns out to be the nicest guy you meet lmao

[driftsart]

why is shockwave so eepy 💤🛏 ?? OwO

Shockwave has an obsession with science, more than normal. When he gets an idea he researches and works on it nonstop. This means he tends to ignore things like sleeping and just taking care of himself in general, which is why he's almost always exhausted.

And he's a war machine:

He's full of weapons, (since the empurata punishment he went through was to turn him into something he hated, which was war and destruction) and these weapons use a lot of his energy as well as a lot of his energon. Plus they weigh him down.

[writingfandomfeels]

Anakin Skywalker - Drunken Doppelganger Discovery

Summary: You're drunkenly rambling to a stranger that you don't realize is THEE Anakin Skywalker, and he makes sure you get home safely. Timeline is roughly Clone Wars ish.

Word count: 965

Content Warnings: Drinking, briefly one creepy guy

The heavy beat of the music in the club pulsed through your body as you danced. Lights of every color flashed in time to the rhythm, accentuating the movements of the other dancers around you. Their silhouettes swirled in your vision, no face ever clear enough to see, just a blur of dark then colorfully bright then dark again.

Realizing that your glass was now empty, you turned to make your way back to the bar. Your destination in sight, it took all of your focus to concentrate on successfully walking toward it. Your body swayed as if on a ship at sea, but you simply leaned into it, letting the feeling make you giggle in amusement.

You plunked yourself down on a stool, waiting for the bartender, who looked like a walking booger. He seemed to be too occupied filling the multiple orders of others to notice you, so you decided to get comfortable and get to know the person seated next to you. You turned to your left to look at him and were immediately struck by his luscious long curls and chiseled jaw.

“Holy shit, you’re hot.” You say, not entirely sure if it was out loud or in your head as you had intended it.

The blond man turned to look at you, clearly taken aback at your comment. The slight curve of a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as he considered if you really just said that to him.

You looked him over, taking in his leather outfit now too. “Hey you know who you look like? Oh what’s his name- that, that jedi… uhh… Anakin Skywalker!” You said, pointing to him, thinking how uncanny the resemblance was. You then turned back to locate the bartender. “Hottest jedi in the galaxy.” Finding that the bartender was now pouring a long line of shots, you turned your attention back to your neighbor. “You know I always thought the jedi were just born old. You know? Like it just feels like they’re always just a bunch of old men. Old religious men I suppose. Yeah, not normally my cup of tea but that Skywalker?” You laughed, “Pretty sure anybody would take a cup of that.” You began waving at the bartender, trying to get his attention, but nevertheless continuing your drunken rambling. “You know I heard they can’t get laid. The jedi.” You clarified. “But if you ask me, I think that’s just because a bunch of old men were pissed that a hottie like Anakin fucking Skywalker could just come along and not only steal their thunder with being better than them at their woo woo force shit and their voom voom lightsabers,” you said, gesturing with your hands for emphasis “but he also literally could get anybody he wanted.”

By now that slight smirk had turned into a hardly contained grin of amusement. You didn’t notice though as you finally locked eyes with the booger bartender and he made his way over to you.

“Finally.” You complained.

Anakin’s gaze darted from you to the bartender and back.

As he arrived, you started your order, “I’ll get a-”

“You just want water.” Anakin cut you off, waving his hand.

“I just want water.” You said to the bartender, who obliged.

You drank from the glass, thirstier than you’d thought. The ice tingled your lips and cooled you as you swallowed. You blinked a moment, staring into the glass and wondering how you ended up with water instead of the cocktail you’d craved earlier.

“You’re going to go home now.” The voice to your left said.

You thought of your home and how comfy your bed would be right about now. “I’m going to go home now.” You said, imagining your soft pillows, feeling like there was nothing in the world you wanted more right now. You stood, approaching the exit.

“I’ll come too,” a nearby Devaronian growled, eyeing you in a predatory way as he went to follow you.

Anakin jumped from his seat, stepping in front of the Devaronian. “No, you’re not.” He stared threateningly, flashing the hilt of his lightsaber.

The Devaronian grumbled and walked off.

Deciding he needed to ensure your safety now, Anakin exited the club to find you. Luckily, you hadn’t made it too far as he found you sitting slumped on the curb, pouting.

“I thought you were going home?” He asked.

“I can’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because my shoe is broke.” You held up the broken heel to him. “Now I can’t walk anywhere.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to stay here forever. I live here now. This is my home.”

A moment passed as you stared sadly at your broken shoe, and Anakin stared at you. Seeing no other alternative, he scooped you up into his arms and began carrying you down the street. 

“Where do you live?” He asked. 

You smiled, pleasantly surprised to be held in such muscular arms, you almost forgot to answer his question. 

“Oh, just past the mini mart.” 

He gave a nod, confirming he knew where that was.

You stared a moment longer at your hero’s face. “I like you.” You said, playfully poking his nose with your index finger. “You saved me from shoes. Maybe you don’t save the galaxy like your look-alike but you’re still nice.” You let your head lean back against him and closed your eyes, beginning to feel very sleepy. “And pretty. Very pretty.” You added.

His chest moved against you as he softly chuckled. 

“Mmmm,” you hummed, trying so hard to fight off the oncoming sleep, “what’d you say your name was?”

“I didn’t.”

As the sleep began to take hold of you, you hardly heard the last thing he said. 

“It’s Anakin.” 

[buckymorelikefuckme]

don't overdue it

bucky barnes x librarian reader

words: 850

a/n: it's not much but it's honest work *tips cowboy hat* not proofread! but big thanks to @brandycranby for taking a gander at it :') any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

part 1 ❀

When Bucky returns to the library in the hopes of surprising you and maybe asking you to lunch, he is not prepared for the events that follow.

He's heading straight for the circulation desk, assuming that's where you'll be, but sweet, tinkering laughter pulls his attention to the left and he promptly trips over his own feet. Your hands are on the table in front of you as you lean into it. The way your spine curves should be a crime. It makes your ass stick out in an extremely enticing manner, and Bucky may have physical strength, but mentally he is weak.

The tennis skirt that peeks out from under your pink cardigan is… tiny. Are you allowed to wear something that short to work? Surely not. Right? Like, there has to be rules against everything currently happening, to keep innocent people from imploding at such a visual.

He watches as you turn your head to muffle fresh giggles into your shoulder, the women sitting around the table, who he's just now noticed, joining in. You press your finger to your lips, trying to shush them, but your frame shakes with the effort of keeping quiet.

He’s gonna give himself an aneurysm if he keeps imagining what it'd be like to stand behind you in that position, hands possessively on your hips, perhaps with less clothes between you.

By the time he shakes the mental image from his brain, you're walking away, waving to the women at the table as they push their chairs in. You turn a corner and he hurries to follow. He's determined, goddamnit. The flirting over text after your first date the other night has been cute and all, but he couldn't wait another minute to see you.

When he takes the same turn as you, entering an aisle of tall bookshelves, he trips over his feet for a second time. You're on a stepladder, stretched onto your tip-toes as you try to put a book away. Bucky has a clear view of the swell of your ass and the baby blue lace covering it beneath your skirt.

“Did I fall and slam my head into the ground? Am I dreaming?”

His voice startles you, making you wobble precariously. He strides over to steady you. It's only after he has your hips in a tight grip that he realizes what he's done, and yet he can't seem to remove his hands.

“Bucky,” you murmur in surprise, looking over your shoulder at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I wanted to ask you to lunch, but now I'm having very ungentlemanly thoughts and I think I should probably leave before I do something I’ll regret.”

Even though he says it, he makes no move to leave whatsoever.

Your small hands come to rest atop his. “Why don't you help me down, big guy?”

Bucky jolts into action, slowly guiding you off the ladder until you're on even flooring and smiling up at him, eyes twinkling in amusement. He drops his hands as he feels his ears go hot.

“Thank you.”

He nods. “You're welcome.”

You hold his stare for a moment, then tilt your head, letting out a soft giggle. He's pretty sure you're laughing at him, but he honestly couldn't care less, not if it makes you happy. He will gladly make an idiot of himself every single day if it means he gets to hear that adorable giggle.

“You're so cute,” you say with a sigh.

He blinks incredulously. “I’m cute? Have you seen yourself? You're like the CEO of Cute Patoot. You look like you mastered in Charming Everyone You Meet with a minor in Wooing Even the Crankiest of People. When you sneeze, thirty fairies get their wings. Every time you laugh you heal a blind person. Your smile could literally end wars. You—”

“Oh my god, stop,” you plead, laughing so hard you gasp for breath.

“You just gave sight to like, at least five people.”

You shove his shoulder as more laughter bubbles out of you. Bucky grins, powerless to stop himself. He's so far gone and you've only been on the one date. He's fucking screwed.

You manage to calm down, wiping at your eyes. “Didn't you mention something about lunch?” you ask.

“I did,” he confirms. “But honestly, all I wanna do now is kiss you for a little while. I could live off that for probably two days.”

You roll your eyes with a huff. “Not this again,” you mumble.

“I’m so serious.”

“I know you are, which is the absurd part of this whole situation,” you reply, shaking your head with a smile.

“How about this,” he starts, tangling his fingers with yours, “I’ll still take you to lunch, but only after I get a kiss.”

You groan playfully and it makes Bucky’s stomach tingle.

“Okay, okay, fine. One kiss.”

He refrains from clicking his heels and shouting yippee! but it's a near thing. The way you're looking at him makes him think you know anyway. Oh well. You're still leaning up to press your pouty lips against his, so who's winning?

[melancholysway]

I don't remember how bad Raph's anger issues were in the 2007 film so this might be a little ooc

But could you do something with Raph and Leo are arguing over something, and Raph throws his sai at a wall

It hits the wall and they hear a yelp, both turn around in a panic

The sai barely missed Y/N who was just coming in the room so now they're like, "hah I'll just come back laterrr :')" <- stressed out by a near death experience

Thank you!

You can do whateverjust Leo's and Raph's reactions, or all of their reactions, or a fic, whatever you're vibing with

Aww! I got you :) I'm doing this as if you're either of the turtle's S/O! so you can choose which you'd want to read:)

TMNT 2007 Imagines: How Leo & Raph would react if you were almost hit

As Leonardo's S/O

Ah- guys- he's pissed

He just looks at his brother with such disappointment that it makes Raph feel even more guilty than he already is.

To be fair, you learned to never get involved when there was an argument between Leonardo and Raphael, you could get hurt- seriously hurt.

They don't mess around, they will physically fight- they give no fucks

But when it's announced that Leonardo will be leaving to South America for training, Raphael is fucking livid. He interrupts Leo's meditation session and rips him a new one.

"I can't believe ya wouldn't tell us! What happened to not keepin' secrets O' Fearless One?!"

Although it may not look like it, Raphael cares a lot about his older brother. So to see him up and leave like that pisses him off.

But, he has it all wrong. Leonardo didn't want to hurt him or his other brothers with the news.

So, they argue. What about you may ask? it's beyond me. All of this pent-up anger and frustration from both sides causes an all-out yelling war. While the others are doing their own thing, you can't help but intervene. The last thing you want is a fight to break out between your boyfriend and best friend.

Just as you walk in, Raph grunts in frustration and throws his sai- and if it wasn't for your instant reflexes, you would have been gone.

You duck quickly, and when you turn around, you see how his (extremely sharp) sai just sticks in the cement wall behind you. it's at this moment that you're so lucky to be alive.

It shakes you up, and you see Raph's amber eyes go wide, he didn't mean that- he didn't even know you were standing there.

"Shit, Y/n, I ain't kno-" "Raph!? What the shell!?"

Leo's PISSED. Raph could've killed you.

This causes more arguing, as Leo goes over to you and pries the sai from the wall- throwing it to the side and putting a protective arm in front of you and standing in the middle of you and Raphael.

But, you try and leave. You don't want to be in the middle of the feud. Not again. You can't take a side. You don't want to take a side. It's not your place.

"No y/n you stay right here- RAPH. Apologize. Now."

Will literally force a sorry out of Raph and will NOT let him go until he does.

Once he apologizes (Raph does feel bad, he seriously didn't mean to nearly cause you an early death, so the sorry comes quick,) he picks up his sai and leaves the dojo.

Leo stays and makes sure you're okay after that. It's natural, you're shaken up, you feel weak in the knees, the normal. You're in shock.

That seriously could've gone south quick, and Leo thinks about it for a split second. What if it did? He doesn't want to think about it anymore. It causes him to tear up.

Leo believes in parallel universes, in a different universe, you DID wind up getting stabbed. He could only imagine how is parallel self is handling it right now.

"Deep breaths, love, I'm sorry." Once you calm down, he helps you to his room, it's very clean and bare now, as he already packed essentials for his trip. But, his bed is still the same. Same scent and everything.

Once you're in his bed, he gets you some water, and then he lays beside you, holding you, comforting you.

He apologizes. Although you stop him and tell him he has nothing to apologize for, he doesn't care. He feels responsible. He should've been more attentive. He shouldn't have continued arguing with Raph. Maybe that would've never happened if he did.

You calm down as minutes go by, and Leo asks you (for the 1000th time) if you’re feeling okay.

“Thanks to you, I am.”

His heart soars at your response. He’s always glad to help you.

As Raphael's S/O

ooh does this boy feel like shit for doing that

It’s been a rough couple of weeks, especially finding out Leo will be leaving for god knows how long

So when he barges in the dojo one day and just starts going off on Leo- letting out all of his anger, it turns into a full blown argument

“I’m doing it for you, Raph! For our family!”

Raph doesn’t wanna hear it. He wants his brother HERE. In the sewers of NYC, not 3727228 miles away.

As Raph’s S/O, you understood why he got so angry at times. He was mad at the world around him. How imperfect it can truly be, and how it can turn upside down in an instant.

You had to understand Raph before you even thought about dating him- he’s a handful. He knows that, and he tries his best for you. You know he does.

You comfort him a lot. Like that day when Leo announced he would be leaving. He was feeling so many emotions and didn’t know what to do

So he started to dislike his brother. Like right now, how he just came in the dojo and started up an argument just because he can.

“We need ya here! I need ya here!” Doesn’t Leo understand that? But, it’s also Splinter’s orders. Leo has to go.

They continue to go back and forth, and from experience and observation- you know not to try and be the mediator. That was more Splinter’s thing. But, he wasn’t around. Nobody was. Just you as you just so happen to walk by.

But, you put all those conversations between Donnie and Mikey about what you should and shouldn’t do when Leo and Raph argue and go in there to try to at least dial it down.

Note: you should NOT tell both of them to shutup, they will literally forget they’re arguing with each other and come together and tell YOU to shutup and stay out of it (via Mikey)

Back to the current situation, you walk in and hear Raph’s accented voice get louder, and as you get closer to see them both, you also see something sharp fly right in your direction

After quickly ducking and yelping in the process, Raphael and Leonardo both stop and look at you.

Barely missed. And now? You’re sitting on the floor looking at them both.

Leonardo apologizes first. He should’ve been more aware of his surroundings and stopped Raph from almost decapitating you.

Your boyfriend, on the other hand, is shocked. He’s frozen in place, watching as Leo helps you get up, and soon leaving the dojo to get Donnie as you mention that you feel your heart racing.

“I’m fine, Leo, I’m just…” too late, he’s already gone.

Raphael truly fucked up, didn’t he? The last thing he would ever want to do is hurt you. You’re practically his everything. Who he tries to be a better person (err, turtle) for.

“Shit, babe, I’m so…fuck…I’m sorry,” once Raph gets himself out of that shocked state, he comes rushing to you, not even thinking about his sai that’s sticking out the wall.

He begins to ramble, that’s what he always did when he has no grasp on his emotions. He didn’t mean to do that. He had no idea you were there. He’s sorry, so fucking sorry. He knows he could’ve hurt you-he knows.

As you feel your heart rate go down as moments pass, you just embrace your boyfriend mid ramble. You hold him. You’re okay, and you have to tell him that.

“Hey, I’m okay, see?” You say while you bury your face in his plastron, “That reflex training you taught me finally came in handy, huh?” Raph isn’t sure what to do with his hands at first, but they soon wrap around your smaller form. How can you be so sweet to him when he almost took your head off?

He apologizes sincerely once again, but…it’s okay. Things happen. You knew Raphael wouldn’t do anything to hurt you intentionally. He’s not like that towards you. He cherishes you.

You cherish him all the same.

Leo comes back with Donnie, but you insist you’re okay. Which, you are. Raph and Leo end things bittersweetly, but what matters is that it’s over. They know not to fight to that extent. Raph understands now.

Raph’s still thinking hard about what he almost did to you, and it takes a lot of reassurance for him to see that you’re truly not angry or upset at him.

And once you’ve given Raphael that reassurance, he’s feeling better.

“You’re gonna have to try harder than that to get rid of me, Raphie.” You’re using his nickname again, you’re joking with him again like you usually do, and it makes him smile. It makes him love you even more, how you can get past his fuck ups with no hard feelings. He needs someone who understands.

You understand, and that’s what he loves about you.

//

taglist:

@bee-1n-space @ducky-died-inside

Masterlist

[chemicalsturniolo]

TEN SPEED - M.S. (pt 1)

Psycho!Matt x Fem!Reader

Summary - Matt loves Y/N, but he can’t cope with his delusions.

Warnings - Schizophrenia, kidnapping, blood, gore, implied NSFW, mentions of SH and suicide, murder, not proofread, use of Y/N, an annoying ass bicycle

Disclaimer - This loosely based off of The Amory Wars, the work of Claudio Sanchez. Credit goes to him and the rest of Coheed!!

Blue - Matt

Red - Ten Speed

Pink - Reader

“Shut up!” Matt hissed to the bellowing voice in his head. He was responded with a raspy chuckle that echoed through his mind. He looked out the window of the car and saw that stupid flaming bicycle. He almost wished it was real so he could just crash into it and kill it, along with himself. But no, Ten Speed came everywhere with him, and with that, he always had to drive Matt’s delusion farther.

“I’m just being helpful,” Ten Speed responded. The jaw of the horned skull connected to the stupid handlebars moved every time Ten Speed spoke. Matt could only press harder on the gas pedal at these words, practically fuming. It was only on occasions where the voice got this bad, and he needed an outlet.

“Slow down. You’ll kill yourself,” Ten Speed teased, the low frequency of the voice dancing through his head. He grumbled, his already throbbing headache worsening. He had such violent urges that he couldn’t act on, he didn’t want to give into that voice.

The headache only spread through Matt’s skull, enveloping his eyes, his jaw, even traveling to his throat. He didn’t understand why he was subject to literal torture. Not by a person either, by his own brain. By a fucking bicycle He gripped the steering wheel while his body writhed in pain.

“Come on, Matty Boy. You know you want to,” it teased. “Just plunge the knife into someone’s chest. Hear their sweet cries. You’ll feel so much better.”

Matt groaned and made a sharp left turn into the woods. He needed to park immediately and clear his racing mind. Would it really feel better? If he finally killed someone?

He gripped the small pocket knife in his hand that he promised himself he’d only use for self defense. A look of questioning was plastered on his face, not that anyone nearby could see. It was just him and that dumb bicycle that followed him around.

He could see the orange flames surrounding the bicycle out of the corner of his eyes. But if he stepped out of the car to put out the flame, there would be absolutely nothing there. That’s what irked him.

“Look at that knife in your hand, Matthew. Imagine what that knife could do. Terrible things, I presume?”

Matt didn’t bother responding. He just stared at the knife, then at Ten Speed. The flames illuminated the dark woods.

Before he could even think, he heard the faint rustling of leaves through the cracked window of his car. He gripped the knife in one hand and yanked the car door open with the other. With a slam of the door, he approached the possible imminent threat (or imminent prey.)

Time slowed down in the moment he charged at the man who came out of the trees. He seemed middle aged, probably had a wife and kids. Maybe he enjoyed fishing. Too bad he would never experience that.

Matt plunged the blade in his hand right into the gut of the man in front of him. Repeatedly. Why did this feel so good? The aching in his head quickly disappeared, followed by euphoria.

He knew Ten Speed was behind him, watching everything unfold. The blood spilling from the poor guys stomach, the knife thrusting in and out, Matt’s growing insanity.

As his body finally dropped to the ground, Matt stood there and hovered, a satisfied feeling rushing through his body. He calmly walked back to the car, despite being covered in blood. He pulled the door open and sat down in the drivers seat, just sitting there.

“See? It felt good, Matthew. It wasn’t so hard,” Ten Speed commented. Even though he was right, Matt wasn’t in the mood for Ten Speed’s constant gawking.

He relished in the feeling before an urgency washed over him. This man was probably camping with his family, or on a fishing trip with his friends. Matt knew there would be people looking for the guy, or even worse, the cops.

He swiftly started the car and sped off into the night, and it wasn’t long before Ten Speed was right back next to him.

“Where we headed, Matthew?” he questioned. Matt sighed, contemplating even answering. He missed his best friend. He wanted to see her. Feel her soft touch, run his fingers through her pretty locks.

“We’re seeing Y/N,” Matt replied firmly, a sense of empowerment taking over him. Ten Speed scoffed.

“Covered in blood? She wouldn’t want to see you that way. You’d scare the poor girl,” Ten Speed snickered, trying to get under Matt’s skin. Matt only drove faster on the route to Y/N’s house.

“I have to see her. She has to come with me,” he stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. This only earned more laughter from Ten Speed.

“She won’t come with you. Not like that. She’s already scared of you from what you did last time…” he replied lowly, making Matt’s blood boil. The last time Matt had seen Y/N was last month. She wanted nothing to do with him as of now. This was all because Matt started shouting at Ten Speed when he was forcing violent thoughts into Matt’s head, causing him to do things that she could never unsee

“I’m not doing shit for you!” Matt yelled, his voice could probably be heard throughout Y/N’s house. She stood in the corner of the room watching Matt shout at seemingly nothing. But in Matt’s head, Ten Speed only pushed him further.

“Wouldn’t you wanna just kill her? Make it so much easier for you? Take a huge burden off the both of your shoulders?” Ten Speed teased. Matt watched the fiery bicycle slide around the floors of Y/N’s house in pure rage.

“I’d kill myself before I ever kill her, you fucking asshole!” He shouted even louder, glaring daggers into thin air. Y/N’s eye’s only widened.

“Matt, stop!” She protested. He whipped his head around, suddenly taking his anger out on her.

“Make me! I’m doing this for you, you fucking bitch, be grateful! I’m arguing with a goddamn bicycle for you!”

She looked at him in pure confusion, her mind genuinely drawing a blank.

“Get some fucking help!” She spat, feeling absolute fear in this moment, both of and for her best friend. He was seeing red, acting purely on impulse. He grabbed her by the wrist before Ten Speed spoke again.

“Hurt yourself then. Not her.”

And so Matt did, which only got the cops called on him by his best friend.

He looked down at the scar on his wrist from that night, remembering the fight he had with Y/N and the pain he put her and himself through. He knew he was a bad friend, but right now he didn’t care.

Ten Speed’s pedals only moved faster, propelling him in front of Matt’s car.

“Can you fucking move?? I can’t see the goddamn road…” Matt complained, trying to see around the flaming, skulled object in front of his vehicle.

“So you’re going to kidnap her?” he asked, amusement in his low, raspy voice. Matt cringed at the thought, but just nodded, continuing to drive while Ten Speed remained a road block.

It wasn’t long before Matt found himself sneaking into Y/N’s home, thankful that just her car was in the driveway and not her parents’. He found his way into the garage, grabbing duct tape and rope from her father’s supplies before making his way upstairs to her room.

He noticed her peacefully sleeping and couldn’t help but admire the sight; her hair fallen perfectly over her shoulder, the way her reddish lips parted, the rising and falling of her chest. It was hot as hell in her room, so she had no blankets and a full display of her chosen pajamas; panties and a band shirt.

He wondered what it would be like to slip the two articles of clothing off of her, while she was awake and consenting of course, and feel the soft skin of her body. Place open mouthed kisses and hickeys where everyone could see, where he could claim her as his own.

He smirked to himself before covering her mouth and pulling her out of bed and to her feet, waking her up. Her body jolted awake, and she squirmed in his strong grip, making muffled cries of help against his hand.

“Not so fast, sweetheart,” he teased, keeping his grip firmer as he managed to get her downstairs. He still had the duct tape and rope in the other hand, so he pinned her against the front door to keep her in place to tape her mouth shut. She whimpered as her back hit the door, her eyes filling with tears. His heart ached just a bit for her, and he reluctantly removed the hand from her mouth, but not before ripping off a piece of tape from the roll with his teeth, just in case she spoke too much.

“Matt.. why?” she whimpered, another tear falling from her pretty eyes. He gave her a solemn look and pressed a quick kiss to her lips before speaking.

“Because I need your help, Y/N. And I knew you wouldn’t trust me if I simply asked you, not after what happened”

Without another word, he pressed the piece of duct tape to her trembling mouth and turned her around against the door, grabbing both of her wrists and taping them together a couple times before tying them with the rope for good measure.

With that, he brought her out to the car and shoved her in the backseat, returning to his spot at the front.

He drove for hours as she whimpered and cried in the backseat. He couldn’t deny, it was getting annoying. But eventually, her cries turned into small hiccups, and the hiccups faded into snores.

“Night, Y/N,” he whispered into the backseat, following the return of Ten Speed. He sped next to Matt along the dark roads.

“Well are you gonna kill her off?!” he questioned, almost playfully. Matt scoffed.

“It’s not your decision. I love the character, so she stays,” Matt declared, making a point to glare at Ten Speed.

“Yeah, well the only thing loves done is put you in this position, I say kill her off!” Ten Speed persisted, the rasp of his voice really getting on Matt’s nerves tonight.

“So? You say plenty of things. And how’s that work? You’re a bicycle.”

—————

A/N - That was my first ever fic so I feel like it was awful, but pls lmk if you want a part 2 :)

[malleux]

freedom. | surviving fimbulwinter [I]

[main page] | [t.o.c] | [spellbook] | [ << | >> ]

young adult!atreus x reader

-> synopsis: The only times you had ever experienced adventure was through your books. It was hard to live an exciting life while trapped in Alfheim.

You know you're meant for something greater than wasting away underground.

[loosely based on the events of Gow: Ragnarok]

-> chapter warnings: all chapters may contain spoilers, violence, sparring, cursing

You sat on the couch, pouting and pressing a chunk of ice against the side of your thigh. One of the dwarves— Sindri, you learned— paced back and forth in front of you.

"You better hope that doesn't get infected! None of us have any knowledge of healing, though we could make you a prosthetic should your leg rot off—" Sindri rambled.

"Ew, can we not?" You cringed at the thought, "It's already bad enough I literally got stabbed, I don't want to imagine any worse right now."

"Well, you shouldn't be sneakin' up on people!" The blue dwarf— Brok— huffed from his workbench.

"I said I was sorry! I forgot I was invisible."

"A likely excuse."

You threw a glare towards Brok, who definitely was choosing to clean off his knife in front of you on purpose. Sindri, on the other hand, had chosen to make his way back to the large cauldron beside the fireplace. He grabbed the ladle and stirred before stoking the fire.

"In any case, Kratos and Atreus should be back soon. They went out to collect supplies before they leave tomorrow, so once they're back we can all have a nice talk."

"Yeah, about how the Hel you appeared out of nowhere, and how you think it's acceptable to scare the Tatzelwurms out of us."

A few hours had passed, and you were still icing your leg. You'd just started a new book, Rare Fighting Spells, when the front door seemed to throw itself open. You jumped, watching as an incredibly muscular man walk through the door. Behind him was a boy, possibly close to your age. This must be the two Sindri was talking about.

They both eyed you, taking their things to Brok to mess with.

Sindri clapped his hands together, "Wonderful, everyone's here! It's time for dinner!"

———

To say dinner was awkward would be the understatement of the year.

You all ate silently— everyone sneaking glances at you while you tried to think of how to introduce yourself. Eventually, you coughed and sat up straight, putting down your spoon. Everyone else followed.

"I suppose I need to speak."

Brok huffed out a “You think?”, earning a side-eye and a kick under the table.

"My name is Y/N, and I just escaped from Alfheim. I don't know how I successfully got here, but Brok and Sindri found me. And then stabbed me—"

"You scared me!"

"—I did. But thank you guys for saving me." You tried to smile at them, but it was more of a grimace. "Any questions?"

"Lass, why were you in Alfheim in the first place? Don't you know there's a war going on?" The decapitated head asked with an accent way stronger than what you were expecting.

"I- uh, lived there?" You felt weird talking to it, "My father is a Dark Elf. My mother is mortal, but she died when I was born. Before the war, my father hid me underground, away from the other Elves. They hated me because I didn't look like them. Eventually, when the Elves began using the Light of Alfheim and all of the Dark Elves went underground, I was trapped even further and locked in my room.” You sighed, folding your hands on the table and gathering the courage to continue.

“Today, I decided I wanted to get out, so I learned a spell to make myself invisible and escaped. The Mystic Gateway was broken, and I tried for a while to fix it, but it wasn't working. That's when it started to fix itself, and Brok and Sindri opened it up from the other side. I snuck inside, and went to talk to them, but I forgot I was invisible, and— yeah. You get the rest."

The head hummed. You were sure if he could nod, he would. "I see. I'd heard a rumor once from Alfheim about a mixed breed, but you know those Elves. Squashed the rumor quick. They don't like anyone getting involved in their business. I suppose the rumors are true, then.”

You agreed, taking a sip of water from your cup. "I'm sorry to intrude, I just saw an escape and went for it."

"What's your plan now?" Sindri asked.

"I wanted to explore the realms, but I guess with the Gateways being broken I'll have to wait. Maybe I'll find a way to Midgard and build a life there—"

"You could come with us!"

"Atreus."

The boy who offered, Atreus, slumped down for a moment, only to perk back up quickly. "Father, c'mon. Y/N wants to see the world, we could use another helping hand, why not?"

"We do not need another helping hand." His father seemed to mock, "We are fine the way we are. How do you know she could even help?"

"I could spar with her? And you watch?" Atreus offered, looking at you for approval. You, on the other hand, were just confused.

People just fought for fun? You were always told it was solely for your survival. That's why your father never trained you as much as you asked. If you were to spar against this boy, you'd for sure lose. You secretly hoped his father would say no, but he huffed and stood from the table.

"Meet me outside."

You watched him leave the house with wide eyes, and once the door closed you turned back to Atreus. "Dude, what? Why would you do that?"

"Uh, because it would be cool if you came with us?" He quirked an eyebrow, seeing nothing wrong.

"I haven't fought in Hel knows how long. I'm going to embarrass myself—"

"Kratos doesn't expect perfection." Sindri tried to reassure you, "But if you show promise and try your hardest, I bet he'll be a lot more lenient than you think. Especially if Atreus is nagging him."

"I don't nag him!" Atreus argued, standing from the table. You followed.

"What do you call it? Wearing him down?" Brok cackled as Atreus led you outside where Kratos was waiting.

———

"Ready, go!"

Atreus ran at you first, swinging at you with the wooden part of his bow. You stepped back a few times before rolling to his side and landing your foot into his ribs. He stumbled and coughed for a second, but recovered quickly as he notched an arrow.

In return, you grabbed your spear that all Dark Elves use for combat and aimed it towards him. As Atreus shot his arrow, you retaliated by shooting a small energy beam out of the spear, burning his arrow in its path.

You hadn't used the spear in ages— since your father quit teaching you— so you felt a bit rusty. Nevertheless, you couldn't let that trip you up.

You didn't want to hurt him, so you charged at Atreus with the non-sharp side of the spear. Atreus used his bow to block, and you were left pushing against the wood in a battle of strength.

Atreus was stronger, eventually shoving against you and forcing you back. He notched three arrows at once, unleashing them as you sidestepped two of them. The third grazed your bicep, but you couldn't even feel it with the adrenaline in your veins.

Being part Dark Elf gave you a lot of agility, and even without wings it felt like you were flying at times. You hated to admit that you were enjoying fighting— it gave you a feeling of freedom you'd never had before.

You jumped back, away from your opponent, and cast your spear out in front of you. Red spots began to appear on the ground around Atreus, and one by one they began to detonate. Bright light surrounded the outside, blinding those who looked too hard. While Atreus was weak, you took the advantage.

Quickly, you charged again, sticking your spear between the wood and string of Atreus's bow and throwing them both to the side. Atreus barely recovered enough to block your fist, his forearm pushing it down before trying to retaliate with a hit of his own.

He landed the hit on your jaw, but you couldn't flinch. Not in the middle of a fight. You jumped back again, waiting for him to charge. He did, and you were able to initiate your plan.

You swept your leg out, taking his own out from under him. Atreus gasped and fell forward, knocking you down in the process. You yelped, the weight of the boy on your stab wound becoming incredibly painful.

"Alright, truce! Ouch—" You rubbed your leg as Atreus got up, holding his hand out for you. You took it and he helped you stand.

"Y/N," Atreus began, "That was so cool! Your powers are just like a Dark Elf's, you even have the spear—"

"Enough." Kratos silenced him, walking up to you and sizing you up. He towered over you and quite frankly, it was very intimidating. You were already shorter than Atreus, you didn't need to feel any smaller.

Kratos stayed quiet for a while, seemingly weighing his options and looking back and forth between you and his son. "We leave tomorrow morning. Decide whether you are coming or not." 

You and Atreus watched as he disappeared back into the house, before looking back at each other.

"Did you hear that? You can come!" Atreus grinned at you, "We'll have to pack you some supplies, and get a bed for you here— there aren't any extra rooms, but my bed is small so we could put another one in my room! That is— if you're okay with that, of course. Nords, this is great."

You couldn't help but smile at Atreus's enthusiasm. It had been a very long time since you'd been around someone so positive— since you and Fritjof were young.

The thought of Fritjof make your heart feel heavy, but you brushed it off and paid attention to Atreus. Because of him, you'd finally get to experience the Nine Realms. "I can't wait.”

By the time you and Atreus made it back inside, the dinner table was already cleaned and Sindri was walking by with a blanket in his arms.

"Ah, there you are." He approached you and held out the blanket for you to take. "We made you a bed, but you don't have your own room. Not yet anyways, but if you wanted one I'm sure we could do it. Anyways, you'll be staying with Atreus, and we'll pack you a bag for tomorrow with all your stuff and more. If there's anything else you need, give us a call."

You were stunned. Never before had some random strangers shown you so much kindness. It was enough to make your eyes water a bit. "Sindri, thank you." You held the blanket to your chest. "Honestly. That all means a lot. I should be alright, thanks to you all."

Sindri's eyes softened at you, "Of course."

You turned to Atreus, following his lead as he heads to his room. It's small, but enough to fit two one-person beds on opposite sides of the walls.

You sat on one of the beds, slightly bouncing on it to test its comfort. Acceptable.

Atreus, taking the other bed, set his weapon down beside it before laying down and staring up at the ceiling. It was quiet for a moment, and you began taking your shoes off to lay in the bed.

"Was it hard?"

You paused. "Was what hard?"

"Leaving." Atreus turned to his side, facing you. "Leaving your father and everything you'd ever known."

"Well, all I'd ever known was the same four walls of my room." You laughed dryly. "I left my father and one friend, but my father didn't seem to care for me too much and my friend had just betrayed me when I left."

"They did?" Atreus propped his head up, more interested in the conversation.

"Uh, yeah." You shrugged, getting under your own blankets and facing him. "Didn't approve of me wanting to leave. They all thought me hiding away was for my own good, but I'd been trapped there for 19 years. My entire life. I couldn't stay forever."

"19 years." Atreus mumbled, then said louder, "I'm older than you."

You couldn't help the grin that came across your face, and you rolled your eyes. "What, by like a month?"

"Nope," He popped the 'p', "I'm 20. Though father sometimes thinks I'm still 12."

"Dads, huh?" You joked, "I think they just want to protect us from how harsh the world is. No matter how much we disagree."

"You have no idea." Atreus agreed, "I love him, I just wish he'd let me do more. At least now I don't have to hide too much from him, since I convinced him to let us search for Tyr tomorrow."

"Tyr?" Your eyebrows furrowed, "Tyr's dead. I read about his entire story not too long ago.”

"I don't think so! I saw it in a prophecy— Tyr is leading an army against the Aesir during Ragnarok. Since Fimbulwinter is happening, that means Ragnarok will soon. There's no way he's dead if he's leading an army in the future." Atreus explained, "That's why we're going to find him. We're heading to a city in Svartalfheim tomorrow to talk to someone Brok and Sindri recommended. They said he might know where Tyr is."

You shook your head. "Wow. That is... a lot." You yawned, trying to hide it. You were still interested in the conversation, but today's events were wore you down.

"Isn't it? I'm excited." Atreus yawned as well, "The only way it'll come quicker is if we're asleep when time passes. Let's go to bed."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Atreus."

"Goodnight, Y/N-" Atreus began, but you were already knocked out. He smiled slightly to himself, secretly glad to finally have a companion his age join the group. All of the adult nonsense got tiring.

Taking one last glance as you slept, Atreus turned around in his own bed and fell asleep.

[ >> ]

[dilucsfav]

Zhongli hcs and scenarios!!!

guys please. crying rn I NEED REQUESTS PLEASE WHAT CHARACTERS DO YOU WANT ME TO WRITE ABOUT OR MAKE FANFICITON ABOUT SHXHXHHX. anyways it’s our fav old man’s turn for some hcs!! strong man deserves all the love !!!!

warning(s): pure fluff… and ofc the addition nsfw. please don’t read if you feel uncomfortable by that!!

okay this man. his picture of a “perfect date idea” would be sitting under a small tree with picked glazed lilies, either taking a nap with you during the day or stargazing at night.

honestly though he’d be so soft around you. he always speaks gentle and kind words to you or helps you with literally anything imaginable.

he likes to talk to you about his old stories that he has. all about the archon war and the personal experiences. he’s a very emotional man when discussing these sensitive topics so be kind to the poor guy :((

when you hold his hand, he’d hold yours super tight and do that little thumb rub. YKWIM???

whispers in your ear. a lot. whether it be to fluster you or to tell you something secretive, he’d hold the side of your face gently and press his lips to your ear. whether to say something or just kiss it.

when you two play games, such as board games or something, he’d get SUPER invested into it. not so much competitive, but he’d be super zoned into the game and focus REALLY hard.

when you two are together, it’s often times very quiet. he really likes to just sit in silence and hold you.

omg he would probably be like so good at making tea idk. i can just imagine him make you both some hot tea on a cold morning, sitting in front of a fire place while reading you a book out loud. you two would share a blanket and there would be a big grin on his face while you blow on your hot tea. SUCH A SWEET MAN.

pet names with him consist of sweetheart, my love, my darling. i can see him using your name a lot, but sometimes he throw in a pet name here and there!!

he would lay with you and hum to you. a lot. he just loves holding you close to him and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. humming you to sleep is an almost every night tradition!!

he’s very smart! he’ll teach you about all sorts of things that he’s learned overtime!!

when you’re having bad days i can just imagine him holding your hand while taking a walk with you around liyue. he’d make you your favorite drink and sit down with you, rub your head and smile and allow you to talk about what’s on your mind.

this is been my own person favorite headcanon of zhongli for a long time, but i feel like he’d have a special “spot” that only he and you know about!

—that special spot being a small patch of glaze lilies, surrounded by trees where nobody could even know it was there!! you two often go in the patch of flowers around nighttime. whether to hold each other in silence or discuss things, the environment is safe and peaceful :))

nsfw!!:

even though zhongli is a calm and sweet man, he can get overwhelmed easily. sometimes he lets it out on you in bed and feels so so bad afterwards :((

—although i’m sure some of you would enjoy the stern tone in his voice when this happens

imagine this. him biting his gloves to take them off, his eyes never leaving you. how do we feel about that.

“oh, my darling, I’ve waited for you all evening. please don’t make me wait much longer.”

very, and i mean very giving.

—submissive switch tbh though…

i don’t have to say that it’s big for you to know. it’s big.

he’s also another character that would kiss you lots during it. often times kissing your thighs, forehead, knuckles, and private areas.

even when zhongli is “rough,” he still tries to be as gentle as possible. he’s so scared to hurt you. but if you like it rough then he’ll do as you say for your pleasure :((

sex with him is so intimate, it’s sweet. personally, i would describe it as making love instead of fucking or sex because that’s how it’d be!!

i feel like he’d be into ass… like. he’d just like your ass. he likes to touch it and mess with it and hold it

one round is enough for him. what can i say, he’s old :((

“r-right there, (y/n). you’re— ahh, i’m so in love with you.”

[thatwriterj]

Bonfire ⟶ John B x Fem Reader ⟶ Imagine

Word count: 1.1k+

Summary: Kiara and Sarah make Y/n go to a bonfire, but while there she sees her boyfriend do something she wouldn't have ever imagined.

warrings: Underaged drinking, Cursing, Fighting, and Crying.

A/N: This is my first post on this blog!! This was supposed to come out so long ago but I'm so slow with everything anyways hope you enjoy and if so lmk if I should make a part 2 ;)

Sarah and Kiara do the finishing touches to my look—just to go to some stupid bonfire, but to them, it’s not just a bonfire. I don't understand why they're romanticizing it, but it’s whatever.

Sarah says with a smile, "Oh my god, John B is going to literally die." Kiara agrees with Sarah’s statement by nodding her head yes.

“What if he doesn’t want me? I look like a clown?” Kiara and Sarah giggle at my response.

"First of all, that is disrespectful to both yourself and mine and Sarah's work, also John B is practically in love with you. He could genuinely go on and on about you.” Sarah agrees with Kiara's statement by nodding her head.

"Look, Kie, but may-“ Sarah cuts me off.

“Shut up, Y/N, any fucking guy in Outer Banks would fucking die even to do the smallest thing like hold your hand! You are so fucking beautiful!” Sarah takes a breath. “You're also speaking poorly about yourself and still haven't seen yourself the way we do.” The room was filled with an uncomfortable silence.

"Damn Sarah, how long have you been holding that in?" Kie said to break the tension.

She might not be correct in saying that any guy in Outer Banks would die to even hold my hand. She may be right in saying that I haven't seen myself yet. I might actually look decent.

"We'll anyway, we should get going, come on," Kiara says, moving slowly toward the door.

"Yes, we should," Sarah said as she exited the room.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled as she exited the room. I get up from my chair and walk over to the full-length mirror in my room. As I stand here, I realize that Sarah was correct when she said those things about me. I am fucking beautiful.

—----

"This is it," Sarah says over the car music. She then lowers the volume of the music playing.

“I can't believe this is your first bonfire.” Sarah screeches.

"Okay, car tire," I say as Sarah punches me in the arm. In response to her screech, Kiara laughs in the backseat.

"All right, end your guy's little fight; I've got to get a beer; it's necessary." Kiara exits the car, and we leave behind her.

When we get out of the car, the music is already blaring. We three entered while holding hands, but the one and only JJ Maybank quickly broke up our embrace.

JJ is now standing in front of us. “What's up, la-" JJ started to say but was interrupted. “Woah, Y/n y-you’re fucking beautiful,” JJ says as he looks at me up and down. 

JJ’s comment has made me smile. I hardly even managed to say, "Thanks, JJ," because of how broad my smile was.

"Anyway, I think we all look lovely," Sarah smirks and scowls. Sarah tilts her head to the side while twisting a strand of her hair in her finger and says, "Don't you think so JJ?" Sarah smiles

Pope quickly comes over to us and says, "JJ, I need you right now."

“Okay, where do you need me?” JJ asks. 

"Just come on, man," Pope says, grabbing JJ's hand and dragging him to where he needs him.

"Isn't John B supposed to be here?” I question Kie and Sarah.

“He won't just appear as you stand there because, as far as I know, teleportation doesn't exist, but he should be somewhere around here,” Kie assured me

I walked away from them and began to advance into the large crowd of people when a guy gabbing my arm stopped me. "Heyyy,” the guy said. I could tell he was intoxicated just by listening to him speak, and his breath further confirmed this.

"Y/n, isn't it? I believe I have you in my math class, right?” He examines me with his wide-eyed gaze.

“Yes, I'm Y/n, but I don't believe I have you in my math class.” I laugh it off and roll my eyes in annoyance. “Look what do you want from me, dickhead, and let go of me,” I said as I took my hand away from his grip. 

I was getting more irritated with this son of a bitch by the time I pulled my arm back because it was already red.

“There's no need to call me-” I cut him off mid-sentence.

"Talk to me when you brush your teeth, please, and thank you." I turned around and walked away from this weirdo. 

I kept walking, but all I could see were drunken teenagers—no sign of my boyfriend, John B. I need a break from all these people. I walk away from the big crowds. I end up somewhere with fewer people—about 10–20 people max.

I was about to sit down on a bench when I noticed something that I never thought I'd see in a million years. My alleged boyfriend is halfway down Sarah Cameron's throat fucking. 

I'm at a loss for what to do. Should I be angry at John B or Sarah? I'm not even angry. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be feeling right now. I make my way over to them. I stop in my steps. If I go up to them and confront them, what exactly will change? I turn to leave this nightmare as tears stream down my cheeks.

As I'm trying to make my way through all of these people, I bump into JJ. "Woah, you better be careful," JJ says as he checks to see if I'm all right, but I cut him off by doing something I never would have expected.

I kissed him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” I said to JJ in a panic. I have no idea why I did that, but if John B wants to fuck, my friends might as well do the same to him. Right?

“It's alright,” JJ smirks. "I've always wanted to do that to you, but I just-" John B tackled JJ to the ground, cutting him off.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM, KISSING MY GIRL?” John B screamed.

I feel outraged. Who the fuck does he think he is that he can kiss other people while I'm quote on quote "his girl."

"Look, man, she kissed me,” said JJ as John B had him pressed on the ground. 

“Get off of him!” I yelled at John B as I pushed him off of JJ.

JJ and John B both get up off the ground. “You’re such a fucking slut, Y/N,” my fist clenched harder as those words came out of John B's mouth.

Before I knew it, I had punched John B to the ground. I tumbled back a bit, almost falling, but I bumped into someone who stopped my fall. I run away from this situation with tears running down my stupid face. 

Is everything that happened tonight my fault? Is this what I deserve? Has he ever loved me? Am I a slut for kissing his best friend out of spite? These thoughts are racing through my stupid fucking head as I sob uncontrollably while sitting on the ground next to a tree. 

THE END

[t0wardthesun]

My Body and Me; a Love Story.

There was a time when I thought I would never write this post. The battle against my body seemed to be the one mountain I would never climb. I would go around in circles, coming up against the same obstacles; bingeing, emotional eating, restrictive dieting and hating what I saw when I looked in the mirror. I honestly thought it was something I would struggle with for the rest of my life. I think every woman knows this journey, some have walked the path before, others are waiting to begin - each of us up against years of conditioning, programming and subconscious messaging designed to keep us small (literally). This is the story of how I took my power back, went from self loathing to self love and healed my relationship with food and my body.

It’s Australia Day, 2008. My sister and I are riding our bikes around the small town we grew up in, jumping in and out of the crystal clear water wherever we can find the space. The path along the creek is teeming with families and kids our age walking around drinking UDL’s and cans of Smirnoff. Despite already being self conscious about my fifteen year old body, I’m feeling particularly brave wearing just a pair of shorts and my bikini top.

As we climb out of the water and mount our bikes to head home, a guy a few years older than me walks passed with his girlfriend. He looks me up and down and slurs, “Yeah, keep riding,” with a smirk on his face. His girlfriend slaps him playfully, looking back over her shoulder to mouth an apology, but it’s too late. My stomach drops, my world crumbles. Everything I ever feared about myself is true. I'm not attractive, I'm not desirable, I’m not worthy and I’m not enough.

I scroll pro-ana blogs and experiment to see how long I can go without food. I practice putting two fingers down my throat, trying to dredge up the shame I swallowed with that second chocolate brownie. I lament to my mother about the size and softness of my stomach, she shows me which ab exercises reduce belly fat.

My breasts grow almost overnight and suddenly I’m the subject of gossip and the butt of jokes. Relatives and strangers comment on my changing shape, as though my body is public domain to be deliberated. I learn that my body is not my own. I walk into the kitchen after dinner out with friends, “You can’t possibly still be hungry.” I learn that my bodies signals can’t be trusted.

I hold myself up against billboards and pictures on the internet and they all tell me one thing; shrink. Shrink and you will be beautiful, and before anything else, beautiful is what you should aspire to be. I stand in front of the mirror and pinch, suck, poke and prod. I squeeze a tape measure around every inch of skin, using the numbers to define how much I’m worth that week. I hide in the pantry, looking for something to fill me. My mind blanks as I reach for packets and jars, a brief reprieve before the guilt kicks in and I berate myself ceaselessly for a lack of self control.

I’m desperate to be noticed. I crave being seen. I take photos on my phone and send them to boys. When I’m drowning in a sea of insecurity, their shallow compliments keep me afloat.

I grew up believing that “big” was the worst thing a person could be. Worse than being mean, selfish or boring, it was the ultimate failure. The subconscious messaging I received was that being skinny was synonymous with being happy. That having the perfect body somehow made you immune to sadness or other negative emotions. Like, how bad could things possibly get if you looked amazing in a bikini? If you were thin then people paid attention to you; boys wanted to be with you and other girls wanted to be like you. To be thin, was to be beautiful - and to be beautiful was to be adored, cherished, loved. Life was an endless exodus away from fatness and toward thinness.

You can imagine the war that started internally when my e-cup boobs came in overnight. Dance costumes had to be altered, bras and bikinis had to be special ordered and I was constantly asking for a bigger size in change rooms. The changes in my body sparked a downward spiral in my self esteem. In my mind, with every kilo I gained I was becoming less important; my ideas less valid, personality less loveable and my dreams less achievable.

By the time I was sixteen, my body was a tool I used to validate my dwindling sense of self worth. I used it when it suited me, to get attention and validation from guys. The more I was willing to show of it and the more I was willing to do with it, the more approval I got. It made me feel powerful. I traded recognition for respect and mistook attention for love. The rest of the time I either berated it with criticism or ignored it completely.

For most of my teens and early twenties, I felt like a floating head walking around completely disconnected from my body. I didn’t identify as my body, it felt like an annoying attachment that kept betraying me by not doing what I wanted it to do or looking the way I wanted it to look. I hated how easily I could be brought down or carried away by the emotions that arose inside me; a wave of insecurity that would leave me hiding under the covers for days, a flash of anger that always left a wake of destruction in its path. It was too risky and far too painful living in my body, so I checked out. For almost a decade, I didn’t look down in the shower and I couldn’t touch my stomach without a wave of nausea flooding through me. I dreaded walking past mirrors or shop fronts and I used to yell at my mum for taking photos of me when I wasn’t looking.

By the time I left home at eighteen, it became apparent that in addition to my negative body image, I had also developed a pretty damaging relationship with food. Food was my anchor and my security blanket. When everything else in my life was uncertain, I could always count on the jar of peanut butter in the fridge. I would use food to suppress negative emotions; discomfort, anxiety, boredom. Even positive emotions - excitement, joy, happiness - were always accompanied by something to eat. It was as though I couldn’t bare to feel anything fully, so I sought a way to dull the experience.

I would spend hours researching different diets and exercise programs, getting confused and overwhelmed by the mass of conflicting information. Was yoghurt good for me, or bad? Should I be eating carbs with every meal or cut them out altogether? Should I be vegetarian, vegan, paleo or #sugarfree? Is running 5k’s burning fat or telling my body to hold on? I would walk around the grocery store with tears in my eyes, totally overwhelmed by all the choices and torn between what I wanted so desperately and what I thought I should be eating.

“Compulsive eating is basically a refusal to be fully alive. No matter what we weigh, those of us who are compulsive eaters have anorexia of the soul. We refuse to take in what sustains us. We live lives of deprivation, and when we can't stand it any longer, we binge.”

- Geneen Roth, Women, Food and God

Before I even knew what it was, bingeing was a regular part of my life. If had a bad day, a fight with my parents or an assignment due, bingeing offered an incredibly effective distraction. There was no thought or awareness, I would stand at the fridge and put whatever was on the shelf into my mouth. Because I refused to have anything unhealthy in the house, bingeing usually meant raiding my housemates cupboards for whatever had the highest sugar or fat content; four slices of toast with tablespoons of honey, two wraps, half a packet of biscuits and coconut oil straight from the jar. It wasn’t until after I had consumed the entire contents of my kitchen that the guilt kicked in. I felt totally helpless and completely out of control.

The promise of a diet is not only that you will have a different body; it is that in having a different body, you will have a different life. 

In 2013, I lost nine kilos leading up to my twenty first birthday. I was eating broccoli with chicken or tinned tuna for every almost meal and smashing myself in the gym 5-7 times a week. Everything in my life revolved around getting the numbers on the scale to drop. I kept a food diary on my phone and wrote down everything that passed my lips and at the end of the day I’d give myself a rating based on how ‘well’ I’d done. A smiley face meant it was a good day, an angry face meant I better try harder tomorrow.

I would measure and weigh myself in the morning and my mood for the entire day, and how I treated myself, depended on what I saw on the scale. I was obsessed with #fitspo blogs and instagram accounts and would spend hours drooling over photos of girls lifting weights or posing effortlessly in bikinis. I would deprive myself all week and have a ‘cheat day’ on the week end, which usually meant buying a block of chocolate on the way home from the gym and making myself sick by finishing off the whole thing in one sitting. A few weeks before my birthday I started taking OxyElite and would happily pop four a day - made me shake and pee constantly - completely ignoring the liver failure warning on the label.

But even when I was at my skinniest, my anxiety didn’t fade and I wasn’t any happier. I still had bad days and moments when I felt unworthy and insecure, and I was so preoccupied maintaining my new weight, I didn’t have time to focus on anything else or enjoy my life. As soon as my birthday was over and I didn’t have a goal to work towards, the weight came back and the battle raged on.

As I watched women my mums age berate themselves for eating an extra slice of cake, apologise for taking up too much space and obsess over their physical ‘flaws’, I started to think maybe this was just part of life as a woman. I hated the idea of passing my insecurities on to my future daughter, but I couldn’t see a way to break the cycle.

So I started working with coaches, and read and listened to every intuitive eating, eating psychology and body positive book, blog post and podcast I could get my hands on. There wasn’t one pivotal moment, but a series of small but deeply significant revelations that helped me improve my relationship with food and lead me back to my physical body…

1. I got angry.

When I discovered the extent to which mainstream media tries to keep us small - literally - as a form of disempowerment, I got angry. By making thinness the ideal and celebrating women who shrink, we get the message that we are not allowed to take up space, a subconscious belief that ingrains itself in our collective psyche. It’s the same belief that stops us from speaking up when we are being taken advantage of, it stops us demanding more from partners who mistreat us, and it stops us creating epic shit and sharing our unique gifts with the world.

As I continued pulling back the veil to expose the corporate agenda behind our BS beauty standards, it got easier to rally against my own inner critic because I knew they were both just trying to stop me wielding the full force of my power as a conscious woman. A woman confident in her own skin is no longer an obedient consumer, she no longer drains her time, energy and resources trying to “fix herself”. She shows up fully as her authentic self. She is a force to be reckoned with.

2. I focused on my strengths.

That insta-famous bikini model posting photos of herself looking toned and tanned in various exotic locations? Yes, she could have done a lot of editing/had surgery/spend thousands on a celebrity trainer, but you know what? Some girls really look like that - and that’s amazing! Go them! You have your own set of unique gifts and God-given talents that are exactly what you need to enact your purpose on this earth, and they might not have anything to do with how you look. Say it with me now, “I was not born to be an instagram model.” (Unless you were, then carry on your merry way). Being trapped in jealousy or comparison usually means we aren’t fully embracing our Genius. Ask yourself, ‘What am I really good at? What do I LOVE?’ then go do that.

BODY IMAGE CHALLENGE: Take a look at the people you follow on social media. Do they make you feel more confident, or less? If you feel ‘icky’ every time you scroll through instagram, it might be time to do a social media cleanse and get rid of any accounts that don’t inspire you to feel good about yourself.

3. I shifted my perspective from the external to the internal.

My journey this year has been letting go of the belief that people will only listen to what I have to say if they like the package it comes in. As women, we are taught from such a young age that beauty equals success, and for so long I was hung up on this idea that in order for my thoughts, opinions or ideas to be taken seriously, I would need to measure up to societies standards of beauty. That belief kept me from showing up fully in my business and in my life. Bullshit!

How many of us are held back from the work we are meant to do and the joy we are meant to experience because of our obsession with living up to someone else’s idea of beauty? How many of us delay happiness and postpone joy, waiting until after we’ve lost the weight or dropped a dress size, to be active participants in sucking the marrow out of our lives?  

These days, I’m focusing less on impressing people with my looks and more on empowering them with my energy. I realised I would so much rather invest my time cultivating compassion, sharpening my intellect and developing the kind of inner radiance that inspires people than forcing my body to take on a shape that isn’t natural for me.

I get that some people absolutely love pushing their body to see how far it can go, but when I think about how much effort it took to maintain my ‘goal weight’, I can honestly say - for me, and my standards - it’s just not worth it. As with anything in life, you have to ask yourself, do you want it because that’s the experience your Soul is longing to have, or because everyone tells you that’s what you should want? Is it your dream or someone else’s?

BODY IMAGE CHALLENGE: Start a creative project that you can work on in your spare time. It could be a collection of short stories, a sketch pad full of drawings or a line of your own handmade clutches. Passion projects are good for the soul and you never know where they might lead ;) 

4. I let go of my obsession with losing weight.

After nearly a decade of trying to get smaller, the thought of giving up scared the shit out of me. I clung to diets because they gave me a purpose, losing weight made me feel accomplished. It was easier to write a meal plan than it was to map out a plan for my future. And it was easier trying to change my body than it was to change the world.

I also thought that if I wasn’t following a strict eating and exercise ‘plan’, I would completely lose control and binge until I was the size of a house. And for a while, I did go a little crazy. I had to rebuild the trust between me and my body. I needed to prove that I was sticking to my word this time and I wasn’t going to deprive it any more.

But when I stopped labelling foods as ‘good’ and ‘bad’ and started giving myself unconditional permission to eat whatever I wanted, eating an entire block of chocolate lost its appeal. I could have it, so I didn’t want it. If I did end up over eating, I quickly forgave myself and moved on. No judgement, criticism or shame, just unconditional acceptance. I quickly learnt that most of the time I didn’t actually want the chocolate, I wanted the way it made me feel; worthy, deserving, full.

Instead of using food to suppress my emotions, I wanted to tap into my bodies natural wisdom. I started by opening up the lines of communication. I wrote her letters in my journal, apologising for all the times I had ignored her, made her sick and used her to satisfy my ego desires. I promised to take care of her, trust her and always ask her what she needed. I spoke to her like I would my best friend or little sister. Much to my delight, she started talking back.

I’m sorry.

I know.

I love you.

I love you too.

Today, my relationship with my body feels like rekindling a romance with a long lost lover; we’re both still marvelling at all the things we can do together, getting excited about what this means for our future and falling more in love with each other every day. Like any great relationship, ours is based on trust, communication and mutual respect. I speak kind words to my body, I don’t make her do things she doesn’t want to do, and I trust that she knows what she needs in any given moment. Sometimes that means making a big fat pasta dish, sometimes it means stopping when there’s still food left on the plate. I still apologise if I drink too much wine and wake up with a hangover. She forgives me and we go and do something to make us feel amazing again.

Exercise doesn’t feel like a chore, it’s a way to expend all the beautiful energy that runs through my body. I don’t slog it out at the gym to burn calories or punish myself for overeating, I move in ways that feel good. Lifting weights makes me feel powerful, dancing makes me feel sexy as hell. My body is an incredible vehicle I have been given to fully engage in this earthly experience, and I love it regardless of its shape or size.

I know this is an ongoing process - as my body changes, I will need to continue practicing self love and some times are going to be harder than others, but never again will I let insecurity hold me back (for too long). 

The beauty standards set by society will continue to change, but I reserve the right to decide what’s beautiful to me, and my definition of beauty is all encompassing - there is room for everyone. I am so excited to see - in our lifetime - a generation of women liberated from the shackles of self loathing, free to share their unique gifts with the world and I am so grateful for the women before me who have publicly embraced their bodies at every size.

Wherever you are on the journey, may these words guide your way home.

Do not be afraid to take up space. Consciously expand until your presence rivals galaxies. Should your body say anything about Who You Are, let it say nothing of willpower or self-control, let it tell the story of your curiosity, your bravery, your compassion. Should you seek to be less of anything, may you be less worried about making yourself look acceptable.

May the only picture of your progress be the feeling of expansion in your Spirit. When you go looking for validation or your sense of Self, may you go only to the Source of all Love that lives inside of you. 

May you appreciate your body as the temporary home your soul chose to inhabit. May you honor her sovereignty and listen to her wisdom. May you praise her in public and pleasure her in private.

When you look at your body may you see our mother earth incarnate; in every crevice and fault line, in the veins that run like rivers, in all the mountains and valleys that ripple across your skin. 

And when the time comes for you to leave, may it be with gratitude as the veil is lifted and the joy of returning to the infinite oneness from which you came... can no longer be contained.

Jae x

If you are looking for more on this topic, check out the recommended resources below. I also run a weekly circle called ‘Love the Skin You’re In’ and I’d love to have you along. (If you’re based in SE Qld / Northern NSW, check it out here > https://www.eventbrite.com.au/e/love-the-skin-youre-in-tickets-626697347637)

Recommended Resources

Embrace the documentary - https://bodyimagemovement.com/embrace-the-documentary/

The Well-Fed Woman - www.rachelwcole.com/blog

Poodle Science - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H89QQfXtc-k

I Didn’t Wake up Like this - https://www.buzzfeed.com/sonamkapoor/i-didnt-wake-up-like-this?utm_term=.clmdDBLaw#.kboeY8g6O

10 Principles of Intuitive Eating - http://www.intuitiveeating.com/content/10-principles-intuitive-eating

Psychology of Eating Podcast - http://psychologyofeating.com/podcasts/

Lauren Beckett, Body Love Coach - http://dropthestruggle.com/

[rillils]

steve being the youngest in the avengers

his time in the ice doesnt count

ohh nonnie, I’m apologizing in advance because this got a bit away from me, but seriously

it just makes me ache, you know, knowing that Steve never really got to experience a carefree childhood, that his background meant that he had to grow up painfully fast, and see some of the worst parts of humanity much too soon.

I mean, his life truly has been just one fight after the other, and it’s so fucking unfair and it also explains so many things, because-- of course he’s always been older than his years. of course his shoulders have always carried the weight of something so much bigger than him. how could it have been otherwise?

and then, well, I’m sure it takes the other avengers a while to realize just how young Steve is.

imagine reviving a historical figure, a man you’d only ever seen in grainy black and white pictures, with the neat side-part and the pomade-shiny hair and the serious expression most men in old-timey photographs seemed to sport. a stuffy stranger at worst, somebody’s grandpa at best. it’s hard to look at this man, crystallized in the past and still glorified in the present, and imagine that he’s really just a kid, one like many others, flesh and blood and PTSD; that he’s no different than any other young man you could have met in your life, been friends with, had coffee with. it’s hard to separate the legend from the man, right?

look at Steve fresh out of the ice, with his old man clothes and the tense set of his shoulders, and the sternness you see sometimes in his eyes, in his clenched jaw. now, it’s been ages since I watched the first avengers movie, but how many times does Steve smile there? genuinely? I’m guessing not many. he hardly ever smiles, hardly ever relaxes, doesn’t get most pop culture references, walks around calling people his age “son”, I mean - of course he’d feel old to these guys, I’m sure Steve himself feels old, in so many different ways. it’s been said so many times, but he really, literally is a man out of time, out of touch with the world around him and the people inhabiting it.

that’s why I think, yeah, it must have taken the others a good while to see the (desperately lonely) young man behind the stoic soldier mask.

BUT. but.

but I love to see the glimpses of youth and playfulness in him, you know, especially after Bucky comes back, like - that sweet, hopeful “can’t read that in a museum”, which has got to be the most fucking tender he’s ever looked in the entire fucking franchise, and then, oh, reminiscing together so easily like it’s only been yesterday, teasing little “you blew three bucks” and “you called her Dot” and everything, the twinkle of something in his eyes that just makes me want to scream, AND OH MY GOD that glorious, luxuriant, all-puppy powered-by-a-million-burning-suns smile in infinity war, the way his shoulders relax and he tilts his head to the side and keeps his whole body open to the man in front of him, you know??

that’s what I love to see. that’s what I wish we could have had more of, had they actually allowed his character to progress forward (but that’s reaching into that fucking travesty that is Crapgame, and I’m not touching Crapgame with a ten-miles pole). less of the guarded, weary soldier and more glimpses of this: this ease, this openness, this genuine smiling.

maybe it’s a bit of a paradox, but I like to imagine Steve being able to reclaim more and more of his youth the older he grows. I like to imagine that his path towards healing includes much of this, too; of being able to embrace the childish and playful parts of him that he’s always felt he had to repress, one way or the other.

I just want him to be able to do silly shit and allow himself to enjoy it fully, you know? idk, blowing bubbles, belting out a song while he’s in his underwear, playing funny video games, snacking on chocolate milk and cookies, buying matching pyjama sets with ridiculous prints for himself and Bucky, letting Bucky put curlers in both of their hair (and Natasha’s too, because of course she’s there as well. Sam only gets a pass on the curlers because duh, not enough hair for that to begin with, but he ain’t getting out of the manipedi NOR the facemasks). I mean fuck, let this man have hobbies and let them be as self-indulgent as possible. let him discover legos!! and make origami everything to leave around the house and lovingly annoy the crap out of his husband with paper cranes in Bucky’s socks drawer and paper planes coming at him from a crack in the bathroom door when he’s pooping. THIS is the kind of ridiculous, incandescently happy shit I want him to have, okay, this. I just!! *screams a little*

[darling-i-read-it]

Missed

Loki x reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: LOKI EPISODE 1 SPOILERS

Author’s Note: I literally saved this request to do after I saw the first episode besties and it was AMAZING!!!! I usually do my requests in the order I received them but I had to post this one now lol Loki supremacy

Requested: by anon, Sooo I'd love to request a short where the s/n meets the other timeline Loki and she had a relationship with the one who died in infinity war, I imagined a few lines from favorite crime by Olivia Rodrigo, I hope it's fine ♥️ thanks love, I really love your writing!

Summary: When Loki looks back at his memories he is happy to see you there. Then you happen to be at TVA as well.

Genre: angst then fluff

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

Loki was confused. He was confused and he didn’t like to be confused. He would much have preferred that he go wherever the Avengers had planned for him, especially if it meant back to Asgard. But instead he stood in front of a little device that held his every memory, confused and angry and worst of all, scared.

Memory and future.

He was almost nervous to see what else was there. His mother dying had been bad enough, what else would he have to watch?

But he did it regardless. The scenes in front of him started with Odin, telling him and Thor that he loved him just before dying. A pit formed in his stomach and he started to choke up. That was all he ever wanted to hear. Then Thor, telling him that he wasn’t all that bad. His brother liked him, his brother didn’t see him as a villain.

Then you.

You were smiling. How he loved and missed you. He had left you on Asgard and he truly didn’t mean to. Knowing that you were in his future made him smile. He let the small bit of tears he had fall down his cheek.

“You know I’ve always loved you right? Even when people told me you were the bad guy. You’re my favorite crime Loki”

Loki’s eyes closed for a minute, letting those words sync in, knowing that you meant it. Then the memories moved on to a couple more of Thor and him. The three of you and a woman he didn’t recognize teaming up.

And then his face was illuminated with blue as Thanos picked him up. He stood up quickly moving toward the screen.

There was a quick flash to Thor, being held down and then back to Loki as he took his final words and last breath.

The screen then changed to Thor over his body and you, shaking him, screaming for him to wake up. Your voice was raw with pain.

The file ended.

Loki didn’t know what to think at first. All he could do was wonder if that was it. How could that be it? That couldn’t be all that he was meant to do in his life. He couldn’t have his time cut off, right when he was getting to a place where he thought he belonged, could he?

The door opened and he figured it was a person coming to get him. He started to laugh dryly, shaking his head slightly.

“Burdened for glorious purpose,” he muttered before turning around.

What he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.

You.

You in the same uniform he was in, the same collar.

“Is this some kind of cruel trick?” he asked, not taking a step forward. He regretted the words when he said it because he saw the tears in your eyes. You ran up to him, throwing your arms around him. It almost knocked him over but he stayed steady, wrapping his arms around you. You smelled the same as he remembered.

“I thought I had lost you,” you said, crying desperately. You pulled away and he wiped your eyes carefully. That was when you noticed that his hair was shorter than it had been. His face just a little younger. “Loki?”

“I don’t believe I’m the Loki you knew.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I picked up the tesseract when the Avengers went back in time,” he explained. Your eyes went wide as you composed yourself.

“So you were just picked up after trying to take over New York?” He nodded. You let out a small breath and smiled a tad. “So young.”

“I suppose you are the person who cried over my dead body.”

“You saw that?” He nodded solemly.

“I am sorry you had to see it,” he said gently. Seeing you, a familiar face made him want to jump for joy.

“I knew I would see you again,” you said matter of factly. “You promised I would see you again.” You hugged him again and he breathed you in.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice was very kind. He had always been kind to you his voice now reminded you of when you were just children and the innocence hadn’t been stolen from him yet.

“I apparently made the wrong choice somewhere and it wasn’t the right timeline. Last thing I remember, Thanos had just been defeated. Maybe I was meant to die. Either way, I’m glad I disobyed the time lords.” You grabbed his hands and held them tightly. “We have to get out of here.”

“I can’t use my magic.”

“Me neither. Come on, we’re smarter than this. We can out run Mobius and whoever else comes for us,” you explained.

“I believe this is the highest power,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“I thought you were the highest power.” He smiled.

“It’s great to see you.” You kissed him. He leaned forward and you molded your bodies together, like you did every time you kissed. When you pulled away you had a determined look on your face.

“Believe me, it’s even better to see you. Now come on, we have to find a way out of here.”

“Are you going to fight your way out using only your wits?” he teased as he started to walk behind you.

“I have some combat training, thank you very much.”

“Yes, that combat training you took with me where we did anything but combat.” You nudged him.

“Perhaps we should watch that back in our memories. It was a glorious evening.”

“My point exactly. How do you think we can get out of here without magic?” You turned to him, stopping.

“Stop asking questions. We have never had a plan in our lives. Why now do you think we need one?” He wanted to kiss you again but refrained.

“Odin's beard I’ve missed you.”

[therealvinelle]

What do you think the Cullens would do if some person they were talking to, out of nowhere just quite literally exploded in front of, and on them? Kinda like in that movie Spontaneous. Would they lose control and slurp up the mess on the ground, (and themselves) or would their bloodlust be curtailed by shock of wtf just happened?

I'd say something witty about how this is a strange anon to receive, but holy jesus you've sent me down a rabbithole.

Here's a trailer to the movie Spontaneous. It looks amazing. Kevin Feige wishes this had been his plot for Infinity War.

Here's a trailer for the movie Spontaneous Combustion, which I found by accident while searching for your fic. This looks amazing too. Can't believe Marvel didn't buy the rights to this guy.

I'm serious, people, you definitely want to watch these trailers. I just about died laughing.

So, on to your ask.

In the spirit of your ask, which implies a level of randomness, I thought the people blowing up should be random too. So, being in the mood to procrastinate through spending way too much time on tumblr things, I wrote a program that'll generate for me random Twilight characters.

Unsure whether the explosion should kill vampires or not, I generated an answer. The answer is yes, any generated vampire dies.

Without further ado:

Alice watches Vladimir blow up.

Alright, alright.

The first question to be answered here is why Alice is in Vladimir's presence in the first time. In canon they only meet once, at the end of Breaking Dawn.

For the sake of simplicity, we'll have Vladimir blow up then.

The Cullens and the witnesses are all celebrating being alive, when Vladimir suddenly explodes.

For the sake of the ask, Alice is sitting closest to him when this happens and making conversation.

Her first thought is utter shock. Not just that he blew up, but that she didn't see it coming (she wouldn't, because I randomly generated him. No decision was made). Her second thought is horror.

The Cullens just confronted the Volturi, now mere hours afterwards their allies are blowing up.

Holy fuck, Aro has a gifted ace up his sleeve, and he's using it to kill them remotely.

Panic ensues, not just for Alice, but among all the witnesses. Some of them refuse to leave, Bella has to shield those 24/7, though given the belief that her gift is psychic that doesn't make them feel very safe.

The others decide to go after the Volturi and beg for mercy, assuring them they never meant to challenge them.

Aro, of course, is very confused, but agrees. Why, yes, he does have a vampire who blows people up. Yes, yes he does.

Bella watches Aro blow up.

Oh I'm dying laughing at this one. And wishing I'd put this down for Carlisle, that would be even funnier, but alright.

Bella is walking about post-Breaking Dawn, minding her own business, when suddenly Aro appears in front of her. He looks around himself, utterly surprised by his sudden deplacement, and then blows up.

Bella has been living in terror of this man for years.

In Volterra he had his servant torture her and Edward and then made ominious threats, then a few months later the Eclipse disaster unfolded, finally we have Breaking Dawn where he showed up to murder her and everyone she loved.

Her shield may be powerful, but for as long as Aro was alive her family was never truly safe.

His untimely implosion changes all of that.

I imagine after a long moment of incredulity, Bella burns the rubble, just to be sure, then tells her family the joyous news.

Carlisle gives the guy a funeral. It's weird.

Carlisle watches Vassilii blow up.

Close call, due to my not switching out the names we almost had Angela. In which case Carlisle have stood there, covered in blood and in shock for several long seconds, before bringing out the bleach and gasoline for a crime scene clean.

As it is, Carlisle is minding his own business when suddenly an immortal child dressed like a medieval Eastern European appears before him. It says something in a foreign language that might mean "hi", he doesn't know but he says "hi" to it back, then the child blows up.

Carlisle stares at the rubble for a very long time, wondering if he is perhaps losing his mind. If, perhaps, Aro was right about animal blood being a slow suicide, and Carlisle has finally hit the limit for how long a vampire can go on without human blood.

He burns the rubble and prays for the child's soul, as an immortal child is doomed anyway, and keeps his silence about what happened. In part because there's a solid chance this was all in his imagination.

If Aro ever touches his hand again, and sees the immortal child that he burned a thousand years earlier resurrect, travel through time, all in order to blow up in front of Carlisle, he... well there comes a point where you say "nothing to see here" and refuse eye contact with the universe glitching.

Edward watches Randall blow up.

Randall, for the ignorants, is one of Carlisle's friends that came to witness for the Cullens in Breaking Dawn.

Suddenly he appears in front of Edward, says hi and how do you do, and then he blows up.

Edward tells Carlisle, who is saddened by this, and they try to piece the guy together. They fail.

Edward sends a somber thought to this noble man who agreed with Edward that the Cullens are awesome enough to be worth dying for.

Emmett watches Mary blow up.

Emmett will never admit it, but it's the coolest, raddest thing he's ever seen.

Esme watches Eleazar blow up.

Oh boy.

The Cullens are visiting the Denali. Irina has not been dead for long, but given the crystal clear memory of vampires, and the loss they already suffered (Sasha's death traumatized them) it doesn't really matter how long it's been, the Denali are devastated anyway.

The whole coven is as fragile as it can possibly get.

Then, Eleazar goes to join Esme in the kitchen, and explodes all over her and the kitchen.

The remaining Denali and the Cullens are called to the kitchen by the sound of Esme's screaming, and find her in hysterics, surrounded by gray rubble.

The Denali are near catatonic with grief at this point, while cooking has been ruined for Esme. One moment you're making food, the next people are exploding all over your kitchen.

Yeah.

Esme is not okay.

Jasper watches Nahuel blow up.

It's a shameful moment in his life.

But, hybrids are edible.

And that blood was splattered all over him.

Jasper has the worst control fail of his life, worse even than when he failed with Bella because this fail means he can't be around Renesmée anymore.

It's miserable all around.

The one highlight here is that it didn't happen when they were headed to the Volturi trial together.

Rosalie watches Emmett blow up.

Jesus christ, random Twilight character generator, just when I thought you were just going to give me boring results.

Not only does Rosalie lose the love of her life, the guy who kept her together, the one good thing she had going for her who made her life worth living, but he did so right in front of her, blowing up out of nowhere.

There's no explanation to be had, no culprit to be found, no reason for it. She had no goodbye, just as she can have no revenge.

She will never have closure.

Renesmée watches Renée blow up.

We go out on a high note, my god. Well done, generator, I'm laughing.

Renesmée is curious enough about her grandmother to go to Florida. She was going to watch from afar, but finds herself talking to the woman who raised her mother.

It's all going well until Renée suddenly explodes all over Renesmée.

Renesmée's first thought is nothing, she's in shock.

Then...

Well, she was controlled as an infant, so I don't think an adult Renesmée would lose it unless under extreme circumstances, like if she encountered a singer.

More, though, Renesmée might have any reasons of her own not to drink human blood, but she has been raised with this being a big no-no.

So she shouldn't.

However...

Is she ever going to get a better chance?

Ethically, she could easily argue this is the right choice. No one will be negatively affected by this, at least not directly.

The human is right there, already dead, and there's no body so while Renesmée does have to clean up the gore. Hell, if she laps up the blood on her clothes and the ground she will be cleaning up. Why waste perfectly good blood?

If Renesmée Cullen is ever going to have human blood, this is it.

It will come down to how much she respects her grandfather, and how important she believes Renée was to Bella.

-

Bonus, because I'm having way too much fun with this:

Bree watches Atheonodora blow up.

Bree is minding her own business when suddenly a vampire unlike any she has ever seen before, one with hazy eyes and odd skin, appears before her. They stare at each other. Then the woman blows up.

Bree takes this to mean that exploding is apparently something vampires just do sometimes, runs off in a panic and, sobbing, tells Riley.

Riley, having no idea what to make of any of this, tells her it was those evil yellow-eyes with their witchcraft and sorcery.

[helpistolethesecharacters]

Down By The Docks

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Word Count: 1810

This is inspired by another request, from an anon this time.

The idea is a '40's AU. I wasn't totally sure if that meant they wanted a story totally set in the 1940's or something that just didn't reference the war, or pretended the war wasn't on/our characters aren't involved in the war, so I just picked one.

Hope this is what you wanted anon!

-------------

Bucky Barnes was one of the best looking fellas Y/n had ever laid eyes on, of that he was sure. It was only his second day working down on the docks, but he was sure he could happily spend the rest of his life working this menial job if the view never changed.

He was always quick with a smile for a pretty dame or even, Y/n had noticed, a particularly handsome fella.

Y/n had thought for sure he had imagined seeing his 'impressing a pretty dame' smile aimed at the bloke who had delivered a sack of letters to the area they were working in.

He would have written it off as the heat getting to him if not for that very same smile being directed his way later that day while they were all sitting around eating their lunches.

None of the other's seemed to have picked up Bucky's brazen flirting with both genders, or maybe they just didn't care. That last one seemed pretty unlikely though.

Y/n just hiked up a brow at Bucky the second time he shot him that pretty smile. He had no idea what to do with that. It couldn't be helped that it was illegal to be that way, that was just the way of the world.

--------------

Y/n was sure that Bucky was trying to kill him.

He had shown up to work wearing his standard work wear. Just the worn whites and browns of clothes that had been washed too many times but that you couldn't afford to throw out yet.

It just wasn't fair that the day was particularly warm, so everyone had ended up stripped down to their pants. All those half naked male bodies glimmering with sweat, the noises they made unconsciously as they lifted boxes full of cargo and moved them to where they needed to go.

And right there, in the middle of it all, Bucky Barnes. Poor Y/n had ended up being sent home from being 'affected by the sun'. It wasn't his fault dammit, Bucky had been parading around looking good enough to eat. Y/n was ashamed to find himself literally walking into poles and walls in his preoccupation with the half naked Bucky.

----------

Y/n sighed in relief. Tonight was going to be blessedly free of one Bucky Barnes, perpetual thorn in his gay side.

He was going out to a bar. It was an open secret that this particular bar was a gay bar. The cops in that area were happy to turn a blind eye to it largely because several of them were known regulars there.

That didn't mean you could just go about talking about it, or anything that went on inside it while you weren't there.

It was still illegal after all.

Y/n leaned back into his booth and sighed happily. A nice drink, some eye candy that wouldn't beat the crap out of him just for giving them the eye, and a little dancing ought to make his worries just float away.

Y/n had been looking forward to this all week.

Damn Barnes to hell and back.

Y/n moved over to the bar to order himself something silly. He was feeling the need for some ridiculousness tonight.

He had just taken his first sip of his drink when he spotted him. There he was, standing by the bar just a little ways down from Y/n, seemingly ordering a drink.

Y/n tried valiantly to not spit his mouthful of booze all over the bar. He had paid good money for that drink and he would be damned if he wasted it.

It didn't work very well. Some of it ended up coming out of his nose, and as he hacked up the parts of it that went down the wrong pipe to choke him, the rest dribbled down his chin.

'Well, that was attractive,' Y/n thought drily.

"Oh gosh, are you alright? Here, let me help."

Y/n turned watering eyes on the man addressing him.

He was met with a short blond who looked like a stiff wind could knock him over if he wasn't careful.

He was holding out a handkerchief and looking unsure of himself.

Y/n went to reassure the stranger that he was fine, but some small remaining part of the drink that hadn't been attempting to kill him before chose that moment to do so. Instead of words, he could only hack and cough, trying to get the liquid out of his lungs.

Y/n felt a hand on his back moving in firm circles, trying to help. He looked back over at the man to find him at his side frowning as he rubbed at Y/n's back.

When Y/n could finally speak properly he took the handkerchief, which had once again been offered, to clean his face of tears and spit and snot.

'Who'd have thought that alcohol burned so badly going into a person's nose and lungs?' Y/n thought disgustedly.

When he had cleaned himself up properly and turned back to his savior he suddenly realised he had no idea how to make this situation any less awkward.

The other man apparently had no such reservations.

"I'm Steve by the way. That looked pretty painful. Are you okay now?"

He was so earnest, and it didn't look like he was laughing at Y/n at all, so he could only nod vaguely.

"Yeah, I was just surprised by something. I'm Y/n, just so you know."

Y/n paused, feeling every bit as awkward as he ever had.

"Um, after that bit of excitement, I think I'm gonna call it a night. Murderous drinks aside it was nice meeting you. Can I clean this and bring it back here some time for you Steve?"

Y/n held up the thoroughly soaked handkerchief, cringing internally.

"Oh, don't worry about it, but are you sure you don't want to stay for a little bit longer? I'm here with my friend, but he's never very good company when there's dancing and alcohol involved."

Y/n mulled it over for a second, before manners kicked in.

"Yeah, no worries. I could stay for a bit longer, if only to save you from a lonely evening."

Steve's smile was sweet, but Y/n also couldn't detect anything else behind it. It didn't seem like he was trying to hit on Y/n, just that he didn't want to spend the night alone while his 'friend' danced the night away.

Y/n followed behind Steve as he led him over to the booth that Y/n had originally been sitting in.

Y/n stopped still at the sight of who was sitting across from Steve. Bucky dang-it-all-to-heck Barnes.

At their approach, Bucky turned away from the two women sitting with him in the booth. His handsome face lit up when he registered who it was standing in front of him.

"Stevie, there you are. I was starting to think you ditched me earlier than ever, but look what you found. I should bring you here more often."

Steve just gave Bucky a blank look.

Y/n couldn't blame him. If his 'good friend' had taken him out for a night of fun, he wouldn't have appreciated him looking at other guys that way either. He wasn't exactly backward in letting people know he was interested from the sounds of it.

Y/n stood awkwardly by the booth, not really sure if he should still be there. He had followed Steve to keep him company, but if it were him in Steve's shoes right now, he'd want him to leave.

"Um, I think I should probably head off actually."

Steve turned back to Y/n looking confused.

"Oh, well if you're sure. You don't have to stay if you don't want to of course."

Y/n refused to acknowledge the fact that Bucky was honest to goodness pouting. Was there anything in this world that was fair?

"Well, at least let me walk you out."

There would be no arguing apparently, as Bucky was already out of his seat and herding Y/n to the door.

"It was nice meeting you!" Y/n barely managed to turn to yell to Steve as he was pulled away by the ever insistent Bucky.

Once they made it outside Bucky paused and turned to face Y/n.

"Hey."

Y/n turned to face him.

"Gotta say, I'm gettin' a bit confused here."

Y/n frowned but stayed silent.

"When we met at work I thought you were pretty cute, but you don't hit on people down by the docks if you wanna live to see the next sunrise, you know? But then you were always starin' an I thought, maybe you mighta been interested. Then that day you kept walkin' into things happened and I was pretty dang sure you were."

Y/n was blushing by now.

'Great so he did notice.'

"But then I see you here."

Bucky had moved closer and lowered his voice, speaking softer.

"An, no offense to Stevie, but he's not exactly every guys dream-boat. You know, I don't even think he knows this is a gay bar."

He broke off here to chuckle quietly. He was standing so close, he was practically pressing Y/n up against the wall of the bar.

"But then you're actin' all stand-offish. Like you can't even bare to look at me. So, what's a guy to think?"

Bucky seems to realise how this might be coming across and pulls away to give Y/n some room.

"Do I got a shot with you Y/n?"

Y/n had been floating somewhere dreamy with Bucky pressed up so close to him, but when he pulled away, reality came crashing down. How dare he ask questions like that when Steve was in there waiting for him to get back?

"You got some nerve Barnes. You can't just ask anyone out. Not when you got a fantastic guy like that waiting for you in there!"

"Fantastic guy? What-"

Y/n cut him off before he could sweet talk his way out of this.

"Steve! He's sweet, and kind and probably way too good for someone who flirts with everyone on the block!"

Bucky was laughing, which Y/n thought was way out of line.

"Wha, Y/n, Steve's just a friend. He don't even swing that way."

Y/n's face lit up with the brightest blush he had ever felt. He was sure he was going to actually self-combust before long.

"Oh."

"Yeah. So is that why you looked at me like that?"

He moved closer again, and when he spoke that damned silver tongue was back.

"I would never. When I'm with someone, they're the most important person in the world to me. Besides, how could I ever look my ma in the face again if I treated my partner like that?"

Y/n blushed fiercely.

"So whaddya say? Give me a shot?"

Y/n could only nod, face still a brilliant red.

[writingoneshots]

Maybe an odd prompt, but how about: Law having a crush on a Skypeian reader and thinks their wings are cute (in a Bepo kinda way?). The wings get injured in a fight so he's doing first aid while trying not to fawn over the fluffy feathers. Maybe the wings are sensitive so reader is blushy?

Hey there :) ! Now this is something I have never read before. Interesting request.. I couldn't resist to write it.

- Law x Skypiean reader - 1,526 words - cutie pie, little Bepo moment, SFW

After finally defeating Doflamingo, Law was exhausted. He has waited for this moment for years and now the time has arrived. Law was free. All these years, he had to readjust his plans, find new allies and focus on not killing Luffy for getting him into way too many troubles. Now that he was finally free, there was one thing he longed for. Someone's presence. Yours. It has been almost 6 months since the last time he had seen you and it was under hard circumstances. Both of you have been captured on a deserted island and Law had helped you to escape and bring you back to your island in the sky. During that time, Law fell. In love. Harder than he could have ever imagined. Every time he needed someone, every time he felt empty or depressed, he needed you. To see you, feel you and hear you. But there has never been an option to visit you since beating Doflamingo was his number one priority. Now that he finally had some time to relax with his crew, he decided to turn back around and check on you. There was nothing and no one, who could stop him right now. Not even Bepo, who tried very hard to find out where Law wanted to go and why he wanted to leave on his own.

Bepo was always the curious and very nosy type of being, but whenever Law wouldn't give him a single detail, Bepo knew that something huge was bothering Law. "Please tell me!" "No." "Please, captain!" "I said no." "Please?", Bepo looked at him with his shiny big eyes and Law took a deep breath before he turned away. "No." Bepo broke down into tears, being as overly dramatic as always. "Please, captain! I won't tell anyone! I promise!" "Yeah, like you promised to not tell anyone about the incident last week in the kitchen.", Law sighed annoyed and went to his desk. "Come on, captain.. That was funny. I literally left you alone in the kitchen, while you were making your cereal and I come back 3 minutes later and you set the oven on fire." Bepo tried his best not to laugh again. "Bepo?" "Yes, captain?" "Shut up.", Law looked at him angrily now and wrote something down into his secret black book. Bepo sighed a bit sad and sat down on the couch. His ears leaned down softly and Law had to look up at them. He always felt bad seeing Bepo like this and after a long and deep sigh, Law gave in. "I am going to visit (Y/N).", Law explained grumpily and stood up. "Awwwwww! You trust me, captain!", Bepo's eyes sparkled again and he began clapping his paws in excitement. "Law and (Y/N) - (Y/N) and Law! Law and (Y/N) - (Y/N) and La-" Law didn't want to hear the end of the song, which is why he left as fast as he could. Two days later, Law finally arrived in Skypiea. The rest of the crew spend their free time on an island nearby, while Law was in the sky looking for you. When he arrived at the city, where you would usually work, he felt his heart ache at the sight of the ruins, which were left after a big war. No house was fully standing and barely anyone was on the streets. What was once a lively city, seemed to look like a ghost town now. A few people were looking around, trying to find someone or something. His thoughts were all over the place, scared and shocked about the current situation. "Law? Trafalgar Law?", someone behind him asked. Law turned around and looked at a familiar face. "Hello. You are (Y/N)'s friend, right?" A woman with dark green locks nodded and smiled a bit sad. In this town, every human being had wings on their backs and specific strength, which were non-comparable to those human beings from Law's surface. "You're probably looking for her. She is in the medical building.", the woman explained and pointed into a direction. "It's in the city to the left. We are all recovering there." "What happened here?", Law didn't move away as he tried to understand what could have happened here without the news reporting anything. "Enel, one of the Gods, came back and he was angrier now than before. He expected us to support him for some reason and nobody wanted to join him to look for someone wearing a straw hat.. So he paid us back." It was hard for her to speak but she forced herself to do so and Law appreciated her effort. "Thank you.", was all Law could have said and after respectfully excusing himself with a soft nod, Law went to the city nearby. The medical building was filled with your kind and the doctors had a lot of patients to take care of. It seemed as if it had happened recently, which made Law feel a little guilty. If I would have been here, she wouldn't be laying in this building. "Hey! She needs help as well! Look at her leg and her wing, doc!!", someone screamed from a room right in front of Law. With every step into the direction of your room, Law was able to see more of you. Your body looked very exhausted from a hard fight and you still had dust and blood all over your body. Seeing you like this made Laws heart feel suddenly really heavy in his chest and he was not prepared for this. He could have never imagined seeing you like that. "Law?", you whispered his name and frowned a bit after spotting his initial hat lurking in the entrance. You felt relieved to see him but you couldn't understand why he was here. "(Y/N)! I heard what happened just now.", Law pushed a doctor aside, who tried to

walk past your bed and was furious about how they have left you laying there like this. The blood was already dry on your clothes and stuck to your skin, which could only mean that you've been here since more than a day. "Are you a doctor?", the guy, who was asking for help earlier, looked at Law with concerned eyes. Law just gave him a short look and nodded. He immediately grabbed some supplies and began cleaning and taking care of your wounds. "How long have you been here?" "Two days.", you sighed a bit and couldn't stop looking at him, still not believing that he was there. "Two days.. and your wounds were still untreated.", Law took a deep breath and promised himself to lecture a few doctors afterward. But you were more important now. "Thank you, Law.", you gave him a soft smile, when he looked up to you. A slight blush appeared on his cheeks but he just looked away again, not saying a word. When he made a gesture to tend to your wings, you put your hand onto his and shook your head. "That's not necessary. I am alright." "I have to clean the wound, (Y/N). You can trust me. I won't hurt you.", he reassured you and you had no idea how to respond to that. Now that he helped you to sit up, so he could have a better look at it, Law began to wash away the blood carefully. Your heart began to beat really fast and you pressed your lips together to avoid making him hear how intense this felt. Every touch, as soft as he tried to make it feel, tickled your nerves in a way you've never felt before. Law felt that something was off and he feared that the side of the wing might have been damaged. "(Y/N) does it hurt that bad?", he walked around the bed to have a better look at you and frowned when he saw your red cheeks. "N-no.. it doesn't.. hurt.", you looked down at your hands, feeling way too flustered. The man, who was watching you two, slapped Laws arm slightly. "You pervert!! Touching her like that in public! I don't believe that you're a real doctor!" Law looked at him confused and shook his head, not understanding what was going on. When he turned back to you again, seeing how even your ears turned red and how your breath has fastened a little, he finally understood. "Oh.. (Y/N), I am sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I just wanted to help.", he swallowed hard, his chest burning from the struggle of trying to help you but not knowing your species well enough. "Don't worry, Law. I trust you. Just.. maybe.. you should leave the wings out.", you whispered a little embarrassed. Law thought about it and stepped closer to you, pulling your chin up carefully with his thumb and index finger. "Or I could clean them in a private room..", he smiled a bit cheeky and motioned his room ability with his other hand. You looked into his eyes, seeing some sort of interest and excitement awaken in them. "Shambles!"

[professorspork]

If you're accepting non-superhell prompts, I'd love to see a conversation between Nora and Emerald! I've been REALLY loving these microfics, I've subscribed to you on Ao3, I'll read whatever else you write

[Gahhh that’s so nice you’re so nice!! thanks for being patient on this one, finding my Nora took some doing]

It’s occurring to Emerald that she’s never had a close female friend before.

You say that like you’ve ever had any friends before, the voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Mercury needles her, but she brushes it aside. Like—okay, yeah, she’ll concede the point when it comes to Cinder. In hindsight, whatever they’d had going on between them may have been... super intense... but it probably had never been friendship, in the usual definition. But she and Mercury were friends, no matter what the judgy little shitstain version of him who lives in her head has to say about it. They’d always gotten along. Told each other stuff. It’s not like there’s more to it than that, right?

It had always been like that. Been—instinctive somehow, with guys. Before Cinder, on the street, it was always the men who’d been easiest to manipulate; who would empty their pockets for a smile and a sob story. And then she and Merc had been two sides of the same coin for so long, and then... well, Hazel’d liked her enough to die for her, apparently. (Which—that’s a door that she keeps closed, thanks. She shuts it firmly again, now.) Oscar seems fond of her, in a sweet, uncomplicated sort of way that she really doesn’t know what to do with, seeing as he shares headspace with like a trillion year old man and the idea that anything to do with that kid could be “uncomplicated” is batshit. Ren vouched for her once, and then again, and now he keeps doing it, like it’s habit, like she should just be used to the fact that people are going to have her back, to ask her if she’s eaten, to turn to her with a raised eyebrow in conversation like her opinion would be constructive.

Anyway.

Now that she’s noticed the pattern, it seems like the kind of thing she should probably… work on, or whatever. And Nora seems like an obvious place for Emerald to start. They’ve been thrown in together a lot, lately, Emerald and Oscar expected to fill in the gaps of what’s left of the old JNPR by default. Not that they’ve ever really had a conversation about it—Emerald can’t think of the last time Nora said two words to her that weren’t combat warnings like “more Grimm coming” or “on your left,” but. That’s probably just because things have been tense. She remembers Nora being friendly, on the whole of it. Off-puttingly friendly, even, back at Beacon.

How hard could it be?

The answer, it turns out, is absurdly hard. Nora’s barely ever in the temporary barracks they’re all living out of, instead always checking on the refugees, going on supply runs over esoteric requests, volunteering for extra patrols. Emerald used to find that kind of dogged do-goodery gag-inducing, but now that she’s been the helping hand herself a few times, she’s starting to see the appeal. The way people look at you when you’ve been of service, it’s—nice. Really nice. But Nora works utterly thankless jobs, the kind most people don’t even notice, let alone appreciate. And when they have their insufferably long leadership meetings and they’re talking about distribution of resources or whatever, Nora’s a fierce debater—jumping in to advocate for the people from Mantle sometimes even before May can. As far as Emerald can tell, she does this stuff just because... she believes in it. Because it’s the right thing to do, and someone has to.

She can’t imagine what it would feel like, to have the attention of someone like that turned on her. She’s craved it from the wrong people for so long, but now that she has her pick of options... she’s letting herself actually want the right kind, for once. She thinks.

Which is all to say that largely through no fault of her own, Emerald unexpectedly finds herself sitting with a profound, fervent desire for Nora Valkyrie to think she’s cool.

She hates that.

-

Fighting with Nora is easy.

(—er. Alongside. Fighting alongside Nora is easy. Emerald’s done fighting with these people. Very done.)

It’s weird, because Emerald’s finding working with a full team to be a real adjustment. When battles get big enough to merit it, she’s used to keeping to the sidelines to use her Semblance for nefarious purposes, or, in a jam, used to having Mercury’s six—literally, because all the forward momentum from his feet-first style always left his back wide open. Figuring out where to put herself so that Oscar can use her shoulder as a fulcrum as he dodges, or trying to aim for the Grimm Ren isn’t already shooting (ugh)—it’s taking work.

But somehow, it’s not work for Nora. Nora seems to anticipate with perfect ease how Emerald will move or what she’ll be doing; Nora bobs and weaves around their ragtag little band with her war hammer like it’s breathing.

It doesn’t bother Emerald until it does, and she means to bring it up casually but there’s never a good time. So it just… stews, and stews, until she can’t keep it bottled up anymore.

Which means that instead of the earnest question she intends it to be, it comes out like this:

“Okay, seriously? It’s creepy how you do that.”

It’s just the two of them, plus the handful of dweeby Atlesian tech-types they’re escorting back from their foray installing some fancy hydro-filtration modules on the outskirts of the camp. And it’s not like Emerald had felt outmatched by the half-dozen Ravagers that had decided they looked like lunch—she can shoot Ravagers in her sleep, at this point—but still. The way Nora had moved around her, it was like they’d been fighting side by side for years.

Nora just cocks her head to the side. “Do what?” she asks, like she hadn’t just basically read Emerald’s mind in front of the water nerds.

Emerald does a complicated gesture with her hands, wrist over wrist, and then flicking two fingers—trying to evoke the way Nora had flipped over Emerald’s back and then kicked off, just trusting Emerald would reel her back in with a chain in midair before a Grimm could fly away with her sorry ass. “That.”

“Oh!” Nora laughs and rubs at the back of her neck, looking sheepish. “It’s nothing. I guess it’s just not a big deal for me? Like—I was there when Ren built StormFlower. The cables are newish, but we practiced so much back in Atlas… I dunno. It’s just reflex, when your weapons are so similar. Fighting with you, it’s almost like fighting with him. I don’t even have to think about it.”

Nora swallows, then, and makes a face Emerald can’t interpret—disappointed, maybe, or ashamed. Which: good. She probably should be, taking things for granted like that.

“Well—just—” Emerald’s not even sure what she wants to say. Ask, next time? Don’t? “You shouldn’t make assumptions. I’m not your boyfriend, okay?”

The venom she puts behind the word is directed more at herself than Nora—frustrated, again, that she’s put herself in the position of wanting so desperately to be liked.

Pathetic.

Nora just nods, looking glum.

“Yeah,” she murmurs, cheeks pulling in a bitter smile. “You’d think I’d be able to keep that one straight, huh?”

She says it with such pointed irony that for a second Emerald wonders if she’d gotten it wrong somehow, but like—Nora and Ren are a thing, right? That’s—everyone knows that.

“Hey, what—?”

“Let’s just go,” Nora says, and Emerald automatically falls into line behind her.

They make the rest of the walk back in silence.

-

Sometimes at night, when she can’t sleep, Emerald likes to climb up to the roof of the barracks and look out over the refugee camp.

It’s—peaceful, is all. A good reminder of where she is; how far she’s come. The night sky in Vacuo has more stars than she’s ever seen, and being able to watch over all these people who have somehow become her responsibility… well.

A part of her will always be standing on the rooftop at Beacon, looking down on pure chaos as a queasy, frightened sensation twists in her gut and its noxious voice whispers you did this, you did this, you did this. What did you think was going to happen, you stupid little girl? You don’t get to feel sorry for it now.

But she does.

Weird how the only thing that’s helped is actually doing something about it.

She hears a scuffling noise over her shoulder, and she’s got Thief’s Respite drawn and ready before she can even really register what she’s heard. She relaxes when she sees it’s Nora at the other end of the barrels, unarmed and hands raised—a funny little smile on her face, like yeah, fair enough, I should have known better than to try and sneak up.

“Just me,” she says, unnecessarily.

Emerald holsters her guns. “Can I help you?” she asks, and—what is it about her voice, that makes sentences that would be nice if any other human said them come out straight-up hostile?

Nora shrugs, hands dropping to her sides. “I was hoping we could talk; I figured you’d come up here if I waited long enough.”

Well, see—what kind of lesson is she supposed to take from that? She’s been hoping for Nora to talk to her for weeks, and acting like a bitch is the thing that gets her what she wants? Good guys are supposed to know better.

And there’s the way she said it, too. Like everyone knows Emerald comes up here to brood; like it’s a big open secret. The knowledge sits uncomfortably in her stomach, makes her feel watched. Even now, even here, she can’t get a moment alone. Not really.

“What, so you’re spying on me now?”

Nora’s eyes narrow. “I have a pretty bad track record when it comes to losing people. Makes a girl want to put in a little hustle when it comes to keeping tabs on her friends.”

And Emerald would snark at that, or maybe apologize, or something, only—

Nora thinks they’re friends?

“Well, take a seat, I guess,” she mumbles, scooching to the side as though she needs to make room on the massive, empty roof.

Nora walks over and joins Emerald on the asphalt, letting her legs dangle over the edge. Seemingly unsure of where to start, she stares at her hands. Emerald stares too, but her eyes can’t help but wander—tracing the way scars, silvery in the moonlight, spiderweb up Nora’s bare wrists and forearms to fetter her shoulders, clavicle, neck. Like cracks in a pane of glass, right before it shatters.

(Only that’s not it at all, is it? It’s not a sign of weakness, but a warning of strength. I care this much, her scars announce to the word. You wanna try me?

Hazel’s arms always looked like that.)

Emerald doesn’t want to be the one to break the silence, sure that whatever she’d say would be incredibly stupid.

Luckily, Nora has no such qualms, and opens with: “I really admire you, you know?”

Emerald stares, jaw slack, certain she’s heard wrong. “I—what?” She’d say something defensive, like yeah right or you don’t have to make fun of me, only Nora’s eyes are so wide and so guileless they don’t leave any room for argument.

“I mean it,” Nora adds. “I know we don’t know all that much about each other, but… here’s what I do know: I can’t remember a time I saw you without Mercury right behind. Just like me’n Ren. And the way you fought for Cinder…” Nora smiles a sad, private little smile. “You don’t fight like that unless it’s personal; unless someone means something to you. Just like me’n Ren. And now you’re here. All on your own. And you didn’t have to be. That’s—don’t you think that’s crazy brave? I sure do.”

Of course she fucking doesn’t. Crazy brave would have been walking away the first, tenth, hundredth time she had a flash of panic about what she was doing. Or, better yet, doing something about it. Crazy brave is taking thirty thousand volts to get to your friends; it’s flooding your veins with pure crystalline power and saying Go, I’m doing what Gretchen would have done, it’s—

She closes that door.

“It’s not like I really had a choice,” she sighs, dodging the question.

“Oh, you know that’s not true,” Nora scoffs dismissively, tilting sideways to nudge Emerald with her shoulder.

And Emerald jolts, because—look, it’s not like no one touches her. They have to manhandle each other all the time in battle, and… and Oscar gives her high fives sometimes, which makes her embarrassingly pleased. But what Nora’s offering now, that kind of buddy-buddy casual contact…

… it’s been a while, is all.

“So, why did you want to talk to me?” Emerald asks, overwhelmed and suddenly desperate to find a way to get this conversation over with. She feels like she’s sprinted five miles; like she’s had the crap kicked out of her and she has to go somewhere to lick her wounds. Too much, too fast.

Nora laughs—a chuffing, cynical noise that doesn’t sound at all like her. “Looking for pointers? See, I’m trying this thing where I do things on my own, but I just—I suck at it. Like today; you saw. Even when I’m not with Ren, all I do is… is act exactly the same way I do when I’m with Ren. Like I literally don’t know how to exist without him, whether he’s actually there or not. And I know that’s not fair to anyone; I didn’t mean to treat you like—” She shakes her head, biting her lip. “You’re not just some stand-in. It’s not you at all. I’m just—broken, or something. One trick pony.”

“No, hey—”

“But you figured it out,” she barrels on, which is good, because Emerald doesn’t actually have a clue what she would have said there. “You don’t have anyone and somehow you’re just, like—good to go!” Nora says it cheerily, like it’s a compliment, but has the grace to balk a little when she hears how it sounds. “…sorry. That’s—sorry.”

Emerald shrugs, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin there. She feels like an idiot; building it up for weeks like spending time with Nora would solve all her problems when, surprise surprise, Nora’s just as fucked up as she is.

“Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t have any hot tips,” she mutters into the crooks of her elbows. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing. Like—you want to know the really sad part? I was just following your lead.”

“My…?” Nora can’t even finish repeating it, which: Emerald can’t blame her. It’s so dumb. “Huh?”

“Come on. You know.”

“I don’t,” Nora says, voice thick with exhaustion. Like she’s sick of herself. “Ask anyone—I’m not the brains of the operation.”

Hearing Nora talk about herself that way makes Emerald’s chest feel tight; like her ribs have locked in place so her lungs can’t expand. She doesn’t know how to explain it; not without sounding like a starry-eyed fangirl or a moron with a crush and that’s not what this—it’s only that—

She chooses to start a different way.

“You wanna know why I switched sides? Like, really why?”

Nora softens, and reaches out to touch the back of Emerald’s left hand, where it dangles over her knee. “Sure,” she says, but Emerald barely hears it; it’s taking all of her concentration not to clench her fist or pull away in response.

“I overheard Oscar—or, Ozpin, I guess, I don’t know—talking to Hazel about Salem, about her goals. And… listen. No one joins under Salem because they’re trying to kill the world, okay? I mean, no one but Tyrian, anyway. We were all just trying to… find ways to get by. And when Cinder found me, she—” Emerald swallows, hard. This cuts too deep, too close. It’s not something she can just say. “I wasn’t trying to be some big villain, or something. I was just—looking out for the people who were looking out for me. And why wouldn’t I? No one else ever seemed to think I was worth it.”

“Of course you are,” Nora cuts in, quiet but vehement. “Everyone is.”

“See, the worst part is that you mean that when you say it,” Emerald grumbles, scrubbing at her face until smears of color kaleidoscope behind her closed eyes. “I figured people like you didn’t exist, and then Cinder and Merc were glad to prove me right, and—I let them. You know? And maybe if I’d just held out a little longer…”

“You’re not the only one here who’s ashamed of her past. Harriet tried to blow up Mantle, like, a month ago.”

“That’s not—forget that. I’m talking about you. Nora.” It’s the first time she’s ever said her name like that—addressing her, in conversation. It feels… astonishingly intimate, for so small a thing. Emerald powers past it. “Every day, I see you do something ridiculous, like double back on a patrol because you forgot you promised some kid a candy bar, or something, and that—matters. To me. It’s so stupid, but it’s not, because… argh! I want—it’s—” She tries to get her mouth to form the words, that’s the kind of person I want to be, but they stop in her throat.

Still, Nora seems to get the message. Her eyes seem suspiciously shiny for a moment—but when she blinks, it’s gone. “I… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Emerald grumbles. Saying it like she means it: seriously. Don’t mention it.

“I understand what you mean, though. For years, the only person who looked out for me was Ren. And if he’d said…” Nora trails off, then, cocking her head to the side as she works through something. “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just. I remembered something. I was about to say that if Ren told me the only way for us to get by was a life of crime, or something, I would’ve taken his word for it, but—the opposite happened. We decided to enroll at Beacon. And that wasn’t his idea; it was mine. I always wanted to be a Huntress. To… to be the one strong enough to help people, instead of always needing the help. He wasn’t sure if we would make it, but I was. We were together, right? How could we lose?” She chuckles, a little, shaking her head at herself. “Get a load of that. He followed me.”

They smile at each other, then. Like they’ve figured out something profound. Maybe Nora has; Emerald hopes so.

“I’m glad you’re here, Emerald,” Nora says, and—there it is again. The frisson of electricity that comes with being referred to by name.

Of course, then Emerald ruins it by blurting out:

“Of course you are, all your other friends are dead.”

Which—“Fuck!” she sputters, because she didn’t mean to say that. What is wrong with her? “Sorry! Sorry.”

Nora only grins at her, feral and incisive. “Yeah, well. Yours are evil, so. Pick your poison. At least I’m proud of mine.”

Touché.

“Still glad I’m here?” Emerald jeers, because her first instinct is still to press on the bruise to see how much it hurts.

Nora laughs, and gets to her feet. “Believe it or not, yes. If putting your foot in your mouth was all it took to get booted from Hero Club, I’d have been kicked out a long time ago.” She reaches down to offer Emerald a hand; Emerald takes it, letting Nora pull her to standing. “Now go and get some rest, huh? None of us can ever sleep when you’re up here thinking so loud.”

“That an order?”

“Advice. Friends give it, from time to time.”

And—yeah. Maybe they do. 

[ray-ray-writings]

Sweet as Cyanide-Dream

This is a Dream x gn!reader in the dreamsmp! This follows cannon (ish), but does not follow cannon dialogue. For my own sake, I have written my own dialogue for the scenes that happen in this imagine. I just have a really hard time copying dialogue like that and I really enjoy writing my own stuff like this. I hope that is okay and I hope you all enjoy!

You can find a part two here! 

Check out my masterlist here!

The whole server thinks that Y/N is being forced to stand by Dream’s side, but they couldn’t be more wrong. They all believe they’re just a sweet innocent creature, but many times people forget that sweet things can be poisonous. 

Y/N’s POV

For everything Dream has done, I have stood right beside him. Both figuratively and literally. I have supported just about every decision Dream has made for the Dreamsmp. I have also stood beside him while he made these decisions in the physical sense. Many times when Dream would go ‘overboard’ or ‘crazy’ I would ‘reel him back in’ making myself seem sweeter and more approachable to those who dared oppose my lover. When Tommy was exiled, I went with Dream on his daily visits and when Dream forced Tommy to put everything he had in a hole, I would convince Dream to let Tommy keep one thing so he wouldn’t have to completely restart. I was Dream’s other half… Dream’s better half. 

Oftentimes I would be questioned as to why I was with him. Many didn’t believe me when I told them the truth. They came up with the idea that Dream held me captive and forced me to be with him, which wasn’t true at all. The truth is I love Dream. I love him with all my heart. I also love the power that comes with being Dream’s lover. Nobody questioning my decisions or my orders. Being treated with respect because everyone was too scared to face my boyfriend wrath… Well almost everyone. 

Tommy never seemed to fear Dream. Tommy stood his ground, fought for what he believed in, and never gave in easily to Dream unless something that he truly cared for was being threatened. That’s why Dream wanted to put a stop to it, once and for all. Together we built a base, far away from the main area of the SMP. Somewhere we could keep everyone’s prized possession, but mostly Tommy’s prized possession, the discs. The discs meant everything to Tommy, literal wars have been fought over them. Which is why we had to keep them safe. After the base was built and filled, Dream invited Tommy and Tubbo to ‘talk’. I waited underground as the three of them fought. 

I waited in anticipation in my little seat I had made as the elevator descended. There stood a gobsmacked Tommy and Tubbo and a smirking Dream. I could hear Dream giving his big speech over how he had everything anyone cared for in this lair. “The discs!” Tommy exclaimed, rushing forward, carefully stepping on the gold shrine built for the discs. Tommy reached out to grab one of the discs, but was quickly cut off, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” My eyes drifted over to Dream who now had a sword to Tubbo’s throat. Tommy’s eyes widened and he quickly walked back off of the shrine. 

“Follow me boys, let me show you something,” Dream called, letting go of Tubbo and walking toward, what I have been calling, “The Hall of Attachments”. Tommy’s eyes scanned the room and locked with mine, “Y/N?” He whispered, causing me to nod and stand up. “You better do as he says Tommy,” I chimed sweetly at the boy, “You wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt, would you?” I questioned with a small pout on my lips. Tommy quickly shook his head no before following after Dream to walk down the hall. 

I followed lazily behind the three as Dream showed off everything that the two of us had collected. Techno’s favorite axe, Sapnap’s beloved fish, Wilbur’s best friend, and even Tommy’s adored cow, Henry. “We have it all down here Tommy. Everything everyone cares about. The thing that they are attached to the most. It’s here. I control it.” Dream announced with a huge smirk on his face. Tommy quickly turned to me with wide eyes, “Y/N you’re dating a psychopath. You must realize that right?” Dream’s laughter didn’t give me a chance to answer, “You say psycho, I say dedicated… Now I have one final piece of business to attend to.” 

Dream drew his sword and looked at Tubbo, “I’m going to have to kill you now Tubbo. It’s the only way,” “NO!” Tommy screamed, moving in front of his best friend. “NO! I won’t let you do it. You say you need me on this server? If you kill Tubbo, I’ll kill myself. Then what big man?” “Tommy. It’s alright. It’s time,” Tubbo said gently, slightly breaking my heart. “Move Tommy,” Dream demanded, going to move forward. I quickly reached out and grabbed his wrist, “Dream. Let them say goodbye at least,” I slightly begged, looking him in the eyes, hoping he would get the message. If they got to say goodbye, maybe Tommy would be more complacent and compliant. Dream gave me a small nod before turning back to the two boys, “Since Y/N asked so nicely, you two can say your goodbyes. We’re going to give you a few minutes. Make use of that time.” I threw the boys an ‘I’m so sorry’ look as Dream dragged me over to the corner. 

“How do you think it’s going?” Dream whispered, glancing at the two boys. I gave a half shrug with a small smile, “They seem to be following along just fine and it seems that they’re actually going along with the plan. Although, it does make me a bit sad. Are you sure we have to kill Tubbo?” I asked, looking over at the two boys that were hugging very tightly. Dream rolled his eyes and grabbed my other hand, “You know I do sweetness. If there were any other way, you know I’d do it. But this is the way it has to be.” I let out a sigh and gave a slight nod in understanding. 

We watched the two boys hug for a few moments more, Tubbo mumbling words of reassurance to his best friend… his brother before they both turned to the corner where Dream and I stood. Tubbo gave us a little nod and we approached. I was in front of Dream and I wrapped my arms around the small boy and hugged him tight to my chest, kissing the top of his head. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured in the boy’s ear. A small shrug bounced off the boys shoulders, “It’s alright, Goodbye Y/N,” “Goodbye Tubbo.” 

I let go of Tubbo and moved to stand next to Tommy, wrapping a comforting arm around him. Dream moved and took his place standing before Tubbo, drawing his sword. “Sorry, Tubbo. This is the way it has to be, you understand,” Dream smirked, bringing his arm back to stab the young boy, but it never moved forward. 

“Sorry Dream,” The familiar voice of Punz called out from the nether portal that we had built in this base. All of our heads snapped to the man who stood alone in the purple magic. “Punz?” Dream questioned, really confused as to why his most loyal pawn had appeared and was apologizing, “Sorry Dream,” He repeats taking a few steps forward, “You should have paid me more.” I felt my breath stop in my throat as almost everyone came through the nether portal. “You came!” Tommy cheered, a tear streaming down his face as he looked at the members with overwhelming joy. 

Dream, thrown off by the sudden appearance of everyone, lost concentration on Tubbo. “The discs!” Tommy screetchs, ripping himself from my side, running to one shrine, “Tubbo the other!” Tubbo, using Dream’s distraction to his advantage, bolted to the shrine. Together the boys ripped the discs off the shrines and placed them into the ender chests that were placed beside them. Dream turned and glared at the boys. Tommy catching sight of this screams, “Get behind them!” Tommy ran past me and grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind every one decorated in enchanted netherite armor, weapons on display.

Dream slowly turned back around to face the server. “Oh… Hey guys…” Dream greeted everyone awkwardly. “Dream, what the hell is this place?” Puffy questioned, glaring at the man before her. Dream awkwardly shuffled, glancing around, making quick eye contact with me, before looking back to Puffy. “Well… This is my base,” He answered. I watched everyone look around the place, most of their gazes falling on the Hall of Attachments. “And what is that?” Someone asked, pointing to the hall. 

Dream remained silent, not telling. “Go on Dream,” Tommy urged, taking a few steps toward my boyfriend, “Tell them. Tell them what you told me.” Dream still remained silent again, looking down to the ground. “Tell them Dream!” Tommy boomed, bursting through the crowd. “Tell them how all you care about is power. Tell them you are controlling their things so that you can control them! Go on! Tell them!” Tommy demands. “Tommy,” Dream attempts to console the child, but Tommy wasn’t listening.

At this point everyone was slowly looking through the hall, seeing everything that the two of us had collected over the months. Dream makes his way to the front of the group, “Guys, listen!” He says, attempting to get everyone to stop, but it was clear that no one was on his side. “Sapnap, can I borrow a pickaxe?” I heard Tommy question from behind the crowd. There was a moment of silence before Tommy pushed his way to the front, pickaxe now in his hand. “Here Dream,” He said, punching a hole in the ground. “Put your things in this hole,” I couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped my lips. Tommy looked over his shoulder at me before turning back to Dream, “And you know what. Because your girlfriend was so kind to me in exile, I’ll let you keep one thing,” Tommy announced. 

“Tommy, please,” Dream attempted to reason again. Tommy was having none of it. “One thing,” he punched, “The rest in this hole.” Dream hesitated, but obeyed. He stripped everything, but his helmet off of his body and threw the rest in the hole Tommy had created. “Good boy,” Tommy taunted before jumping down the hole and collecting everything. Tommy came back up from the hole wearing Dream’s armor and wielding Dream’s sword. 

“Now what?” Dream asked. If I were anyone else, I wouldn’t have been able to tell. But Dream was nervous. His whole plan was just foiled, the entire SMP had literally come crashing down on him. Tommy, of all people, had just robbed him of his things leaving him utterly defenceless. “What now? Now… Now I think I’ll kill you with your own weapons,” Tommy pretended to ponder before taking a swing at Dream. From the way Dream reeled back, I could tell that the blow did a lot of damage. 

“Tommy stop!” Dream cried, attempting to run away from the 16 year old. Tommy chased after Dream, swinging wildly after the man. I watched with baited breath as Tommy eventually caught up to Dream and killed him. I didn’t even have to look at my arm to know that Tommy had taken a cannon life. 

Everyone was in shock at what had just happened. Tommy, the youngest person on the server, had just killed Dream. The man that demanded to be viewed as a God. The elevator sounded, causing everyone’s attention to shift. Dream came back down, staring at Tommy in both anger and shock. I could tell Dream wanted nothing more than to take Tommy’s last life, but there was no way he could. 

“Tommy, we’re friends. Aren’t we? Can we please talk-” Tommy didn’t let him finish. Instead he let out a roar before running forward and striking yet another blow. This time when Dream ran away, Tommy pulled out Dream’s crossbow and shot him, taking yet another cannon life. My heart thudded in fear. I knew Tommy was angry and I knew he also wanted nothing more than to take my boyfriend’s last cannon life. “Come down Dream,” Tommy called in anger when the elevator didn’t return back down. “Face me like the man you claim to be. Let me-” I couldn’t stop myself. 

I raced forward and placed a soft hand on Tommy’s upper arm, “Tommy, please. Please don’t do this.” My words visibility softened Tommy. Tommy’s arms fell and he lowered the crossbow and looked over to me. I batted my eyelashes innocently as I asked, “Can you please just let him talk to everyone. He could tell everyone what he’s done. His master plan. Plus, he has something else he has to share with you and if you kill him again, you’ll lose it forever. Just would you please let him come down?” Tommy gave me a soft short nod. “Yeah, anything for you Y/N.” I returned Tommy’s smile before turning my head up to the elevator and called, “Dream. It’s okay. Come down.” 

It was silent for a moment before the elevator sounded once more and Dream appeared again. Once he was down, he took a few steps off of the elevator and looked around sheepishly. “Are you ready to talk?” I asked gently, causing Dream’s eyes to snap to me. We held a silent conversation, I mentally told him the jig was up. It was time to tell all. The worst they could do was leave. Dream let out a sigh and nodded. “First come here,” Tommy demanded. Having nothing, Dream had to obey. Tommy built an obsidian wall around Dream and finished it off by placing a block in front of him, making it so he couldn’t get out. “Go on, tell them.” 

And so he did. Dream spilled everything. Everything about the hall, how he wanted power and he was willing to do anything to get it. He told about how horrible to Tommy, Dream was in exile. Dream told about how he was the one who blew up the community house. He claimed that if something awful happened, it was probably him. Dream even spilled about the book that JSchlatt had given Dream, the one that made him switch sides. Dream told that if he were to lose his last cannon life, Wilbur would be gone forever… Anyone that had lost their lives would be gone forever… 

That being said, he left me out completely. He left out that it was our plan. That we were in this together. I silently cursed and thanked him. I wanted us to be together in everything, but I also knew that nothing was going to get accomplished if nobody trusted either of us. I had to remain this perfect picture of innocence. I had to be sweet. I couldn’t be poisonous. 

It was silent for a while after he spilled everything. “Team meeting,” Tommy announced, turning around. Everyone was very confused as to what the hell he was talking about. “Everyone, gather round,” he demanded, waving his arms. Everyone piled into a big, tight knit circle, sending one another confused looks. “What do we do with him now. He has to be punished, but we cannot take his last life, but he cannot walk around freely” Tommy explained, looking around at everyone. No one spoke up… I knew what I had to. 

I looked to Sam as if I had a sudden idea, “the Prison,” I whispered. A look of recognition flashed over his face as he nodded, “Yeah. It would be perfect, it’s complete and it’s something he made me build. The symbolism… Incredible, getting locked in his own inescapable prison.” Everyone murmured amongst themselves in confusion. Oh, that’s right. No one knew about it. “We’ll explain later. But it’s perfect and we won’t have to worry about him. I’ll escort him there myself,” Sam claimed before turning back to my trapped boyfriend. 

“Dream, for your crimes against the server, you’re under arrest. You will be escorted to the inescapable prison you had me build and will be in there until for an undetermined amount of time.” Sam announced boldly, moving to the obsidian. Dream’s eyes widened at his words. We certainly didn’t plan for this. Sam began breaking the obsidian to from him trap and I could only watch. 

 “Y/N,” Niki whispered, jarring me out of my thoughts. I turned to face the sweet girl and she immediately pulled me into a hug. She was trying to console me, after all, everyone believed that I was with him against my own will. I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her back. “I’m so sorry it took us this long. But you’re free now” She claimed. I mentally laughed at her words. Sure, to them I was free but I honestly had never felt more trapped. Swallowing harshly, I nodded, “It’s okay Niki. I’m okay now. Thank you,” I forced out, trying to sound as nice as possible. 

Niki pulled back and gave me a sweet smile, nodding. “No problem sweetheart. And if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out to any of us.” I faked a sweet smile and nodded, “Yeah, will do… Hey, I think I’m going to walk with Sam to escort Dream to prison, just to make sure that 1. He doesn’t try anything and 2. That he actually gets locked up… An ease of mind thing,” I explained to Niki. She immediately nodded, “Yeah, sure thing. How about afterwards you come by the bakery and we can make cookies together.” I nodded and gave her another smile, “Sounds good Nik. I’ll see you there then.” 

I quickly walked over to Sam and a now handcuffed Dream. “I’m going to go with you, just to be sure,” I explained quickly, seeing Sam’s confused face. Sam looked me up and down before giving a nod. “Alright, we’re going to head out,” He announced to everyone. Heads turned back to us and they’re eyes followed us as we walked to the nether portal. I gave a small wave as the three of us disappeared in the purple magic. 

The walk to the prison was silent. Dream didn’t have much to say considering how we couldn’t really talk about a plan in front of Sam. Sam also didn’t have much to say, there being a slight tension as we walked. All the way there, my thoughts were going wild. I spent the entire time thinking of a way out of this. But I couldn’t come up with one, at least not right now while everything was still so new. 

Sam let me enter the prison. In fact, he let me go as far as being in Dream’s cell. “Hey, I know you’re really not supposed to, but I’ll give you all my things and stuff but could I just get a moment alone with Dream?” I asked as sweetly as I could, batting my eyelashes, praying he would say yes. Sam hesitated for a moment before he stuck out his arms. I piled everything from my inventory into his arms, moving so that he could see that I had in fact given him everything before he left the cell with the promise he would be back soon. 

As soon as Sam was out of sight and ear shot, I rushed forward and engulfed my boyfriend in a hug. “I’m so sorry,” I muttered into Dream’s shoulder as I clutched him. “It’s not your fault. I should have seen this coming. Who knew Punz would be the one to betray me,” Dream spit in anger, not directed at me. “Doesn’t make me less sorry… What do we do now?” I asked, pulling myself ever so slightly out of his arms. “Lay low for a while,” He commanded, “Everyone will be checking up on you because I just got thrown in jail. Make sure to act as happy as possible, you’re free after all,” He claimed with a dark chuckle. “We’ll figure something out. A prison break of some sorts. It may take a long time. But we’ll do it okay. You and me,” “You and me,” I confirmed. 

The rest of our time alone was spent in a tight embrace. Our plan had fallen apart. I wouldn’t be able to visit much due to the fact I was supposed to be acting happy that Dream was in his own prison. Once we could hear Sam’s footsteps, we pulled apart. I pressed a rushed kiss to Dream’s lips before stepping away from him just in time. “Alright Y/N, it’s time to go.” I nodded and moved to stand beside Sam. Sam pressed a button and iron bars came up, locking Dream in a cage. Sam then pressed another button and lava began to flow from the ceiling. Right before he disappeared from view, Dream mouthed an ‘I love you’, me mouthing one back. 

I was now metaphorically on my own. Alone in a server where everyone hated my boyfriend and would absolutely not be willing to help me break him out of prison… Wait. There is one person that might not be willing to help, but he might have to… He’s the perfect person to do this and he can’t say no. After all, Technoblade still owes us that favor. 

There you go! I hope you enjoyed, and if you did, be sure to leave a like!!