The Reader resists the imprint, much to Paul’s chagrin, as she wants to keep her independence
Ive never done Twilight before so here’s a shot at it
You tried to ignore the chill that ran up your spine, not because the breeze had picked up and the sun had shielded itself with a cloud, but because you watched the last of the pack swim toward their net destination, a flat rock 30 yards away, you realized not only that you we’re alone with your imprint, but his increasing proximity. Refusing to turn around, you felt the old dock shift as he moved, his weight causing it to shift and groan.
“We have to talk about this.” Paul murmured lowly, though his voice seemed to roar in your ear. Your eyes fell closed against it, against him. He tentatively touched your arm, so you had no choice but to face him, albeit stepping back as you did so. It was hard to notice that the laughter and splashing that accompanied the rest of the boys had died out, meaning they had either continued their journey across the rocks that jutted out from the water, or, more likely, they were watching the two of you, waiting for a favorable outcome.
“No we don’t, I’m going to continue to pretend it never happened and you should consider doing the same.” Your voice sounded harsh in your ears but you willed yourself to stay strong. The idea of being an imprint was new to you, not something you couldn’t handle but it had been so sudden. One minute you we’re just a normal kid, offering witty commentary for your merry band of idiots you called friends, but now, now it was something else. Now they all looked at you differently, as if you were different, as if you were his and they were afraid to get too close. You just wanted it to be the same as before.
Paul had taken a step closer, craning his neck down to look at you through long lashes, and you tried to ignore the fluttering and burning that stirred in your chest. This aching, radiating burn happened whenever Paul was around, as if your body was trying to tell you something your mind wouldn’t accept. Within a moment, your logical sense kicked in, you were not a prize to be won, something to be claimed as a mate.
“That’s not how this works and you know it.” he said, an edge to his voice that was all too audible.
“And yet that’s how it has to be.” You state lowly, and before he could respond, looking at you tentatively with his lip caught between his teeth, a wave sent the dock lurching, throwing you off balance and straight into your imprint. His arms braced you as your legs fought for balance, and it wasn’t until you looked up that you realized he was looking at you as if he intended to kiss you, and when he tilted his head, to your horror, your observation became a reality. For a moment you considered it, some invisible force tying you together, drawing you into him, closing the gap
With a gasp you pulled away. You had let yourself get too close. All the things you detested came back. The idea that someone was clipping your wings of freedom, splicing away your individuality, all without a word of consent from you. Like an arrangement beyond your control, you were expected to accept your fate tethered to this supernatural being, to this supernatural life you neither asked for or we’re interested in. You stumbled backwards on the still unsteady dock.
“No, no i can’t, I didn’t ask for this, and I cant, I cant think with you here, I can’t be here” You couldn’t bear to wait and see the look on Paul’s face as you delivered what seemed to be the final blow, so you turned as gracefully as you could manage and dove into the water, hoping the frigid temperatures would awaken your senses and clear your head. You swam more gracefully than walked, quickly moving toward shore without needing a breath. As you went to kick to the surface, your ankle burned and stayed in place. Reaching down, you noticed the small clasp was stuck on something tethered to the ocean floor. Pulling and pulling, you almost gave up, no use in dislodging whatever was anchoring you to the ocean floor. In a last ditch effort you tried to slip the anklet over your foot, but it proved to no avail, as it was a well fitted as it had been the day it was given to you. Your lungs started to scream as panic set in, images of your watery grave flashing before your closed eyes. You had used so much energy flailing and fighting to unhook yourself, your lungs ached and burned and your we’re simply exhausted, and your mind started to fog. You could’ve sworn you heard a splash close by but it was likely your imagination as you slipped into the dark unconscious.
Sputtering for air, you lurched forward, couching out what seemed like half the ocean in your lungs. Your trachea burned and a strong hand came to gently back your back, trying to help your breathing return. An unseen hand wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and when you looked up, you saw the familiar face of Emily, who nodded and moved to stand beside Sam, who was amongst the rest of the pack, drying themselves a ways away. Looking beside you, you found a sopping wet Paul, eyes brimming with concern. He cared, he cared as more than a stupid imprint, he actually cared about you. You realized, a sense of remorse threatening to pull you under.
“I, uh, I’ll just” Paul started awkwardly, and made a motion to leave, and after your last conversation, you couldn’t blame him. Reaching out, you clasped his forearm, and pulled him closer,
“Stay” You said, voice still weak after the burn of the ocean water. Without saying a word, Paul moved closer, allowing you to bury yourself into his eternally warm chest, and the safety of being held and the security it brought, was enough to lull you towards sleep. This was it, this was what you had been searching for, but you were too busy running from Paul to acknowledge the potential brilliance of your relationship, the way it felt right, like two puzzle pieces finally interlocking, like everything would be alright again. Clutching him tightly, you murmured, “I think I might love you.” as you fell into the sleep that was beckoning you into its arms, and just as you were about to give into it, you heard a low rumble, “I think I love you too.”
A/N: A lot of different emotions in this chapter… the next one is going to get steamy ladies and gentlemen. Thank you for all the feedback I have received! I really appreciate it! It keeps me motivated guys!
Steve dodged the lamp that you hurled across the room at him. It crashed to the floor, the ceramic pieces falling at his feet. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at you with anger in his eyes, “You are acting like a child.”
“I don’t care!” you mimicked his pose and stared him down. “Get out of my room.”
He shook his head in defeat and pointed at the tray of food next to your bed, “Fine. But at least eat.” He turned and walked out of your door. Bucky was sitting on the floor, leaned against the opposite wall.
“That went well,” he said looking up at Steve.
Steve sat down next to him and sighed. “Yea, well she said more than two words to me so I’ll count this as a win.”
Bucky chuckled ruefully and looked at your door. He wasn’t sure what he thought would happen after him and Steve had made the decision to give you the serum, but this wasn’t it. You would barely look at him and when you did make eye contact, the hurt in your eyes was like a punch to the gut.
The sound of gentle waves lapping at a thin shoreline was the first sensory response you felt as your consciousness was reawakened. Needle-like pain pierced all known muscles and joints in your body as your heavy eyelids struggled to open. You found yourself at the grass-strewn coast of a large lake, the sun bordering the horizon and the storm clouds having formed dispersive curves in the orange sky.
We had all agreed we’re just gonna do like uh, you know, a show run. Make it look good but don’t go whatever. And then I turn around and I see the glince in my brothers eyes and I see the grin that my wife’s got and I’m like allright it’s on. And the next thing I know the gun goes and Harry’s already about 30 yards down the track.
The Duke of Cambridge about the relay race at the Heads Together training day on the 5th of February 2017
Steve and Danny get trapped in the rubble after the explosion and it becomes a race against time to get them out, especially with Danny struggling to survive. Steve has always liked you, but he’s never told you. Now, while he’s trapped with Danny, he vows to tell you how he feels if he makes it out alive.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader if you squint, like really, really hard I guess
A/N: Can you believe I wrote a 1000 word oneshot based off of a Buzzfeed Unsolved episode??? Bc I can’t either. #shaniac4life btw.
“Y/N, Reid, check out the area around the crime scene, get some samples of the dirt around the crime scene while you’re there, the ME is requesting some to verify the sample that was underneath the vic’s fingernails. JJ, Derek, interview the families. Prentiss, you’re with me.” Hotch divvied orders, and soon after, you found yourself with Spencer in the middle of the vast Idaho wilderness.
Spencer hopped out of the SUV, pointing out a small path to the North of where he parked. “The scene is about a half a mile down that path.”
Mace Windu: (Piggybacking on Depa’s back) Good work, Depa! 20 more yards to go!
Depa: Stupid Master Yoda and his strange practices…
Depa: (on Caleb Dume’s back) Young Dume, you are even slower than when I carried your grandmaster Windu on my back!
Windu: (at the side, eating popcorn) She’s fibbing, young Dume!
Caleb: Haha, (pant) Hahaha (pant)
Kanan Jarrus:(on Ezra’s back) Only one more mile to go!
Ezra: (panting) Seriously, what Jedi came up with this? (pant)
Ezra: Oh, big surprise. (pant)
Kanan:(on Sabine’s back) Go, go, Sabine!
Sabine: What does that have to do with Darksaber training? No fair, I’m not a Jedi like Ezra.
Ezra: Okay, your dad trusts me to train you, so I’m gonna start with the variation of a really difficult routine that’s apprentice-master tradition.
Kanan’s Daughter: Okay, Master Bridger, what do I do?
One minute later…
Ezra:(With Kanan’s Daughter on his back and running) So this is Jedi tradition established by Yoda but I decided to subvert the tradition.
Kanan’s Daughter: Weeeeee!
Kanan: Ezra! I can hear that you’re doing it all wrong!
Ezra: Hey, you’ve told me not to make your teaching mistakes when teaching her. So I’m avoiding your mistake. She’s not gonna bear your mistake on her back.
Kanan: You’re right, I made a mistake not teaching you right, Ezra. I get why Yoda preaches this. It’s tradition for apprentices to bear their masters mistakes. Let me show you how you really carry a mistake on your back.
One minute later…
Kanan: (piggybacking on Ezra’s back with Daughter on back)Run faster, or you’ll bore me and your student!
Kanan’s Daughter: (piggybacking on Kanan) Weeeeee!
Ezra: Haw (pant) Haw (pant), Kanan, you are a very heavy mistake!
Kanan: Yes I am! But even a mistake like me made a little sunshine of perfection like her and made you the strong man you are.
Ezra: (pant, pant) Why does she get to be the perfect one?
Kanan: I’m bias cause she has my blood and my eyes. Now 30 more yards!
Ezra: Nope, I’m done! Climb off.
Kanan’s Daughter: 60 more yards for me and daddy, Master Bridger!
So earlier today I was at Walmart and I saw that they had some cheap fabric and I thought “oh! this is perfect for my rose lalonde cosplay,” and when I was waiting for someone to cut the fabric for me this lady came up to me and asked what I was going to make with my fabric and I didn’t want to say ‘Homestuck cosplay’ so for like .5 seconds my brain was in full panic mode trying to figure out what a normal person would even make with neon orange fabric and right as I started saying “uhhhhhhhh,,,,,, I,,, don’t know….” she said “is it something for that Local Sports Team” and I was like “yep,,, 100% for sports,,, absolutely correct” and that was probably one of my most uncomfortable interactions this month.
An advance German machine gun position preparing to fire on French infantry.
April 16 1917, Berry–For days, the French artillery had been pounding the German lines along the Aisne. With one artillery piece for every 20 feet of front, a third of them heavy guns, the French, from Nivelle down, believed there would be no way that the Germans could withstand the barrage. However, due to poor artillery spotting, German defense-in-depth, and extensive underground construction along the Chemin des Dames, most of the German positions beyond the first line were intact when the barrage halted at 5:58 AM on April 16.
The French infantry began to advance two minutes later, with the barrage resuming ahead of them. The first minutes of the offensive went well, largely because the Germans had already all but abandoned their first line. Despite this, the French had difficulty physically advancing over the ground, still strewn with barbed wire and torn to pieces by the artillery assault. Pounding rain (and occasional snow) did not help, nor did the fact that their packs were overburdened with multiple days’ worth of provisions that Nivelle thought necessary for the subsequent advance beyond the German trenches and the reach of French supply lines. Soon, the barrage, advancing at 30-40 yards a minute, outstripped the French infantry, subjecting them to uninterrupted German machine gun fire.
On the Chemin des Dames, the Germans often came out of their underground caves and bunkers after the French had advanced overhead, attacking them from behind. While this had also occurred at Vimy Ridge, here, in conjunction with German counterattacks from their third line, quickly threw the French into disarray. Local retreats were countermanded, and more reserves continued to pour in on the original timetable, when the first attacks had largely not yet succeeded. Only the French supremacy in artillery prevented these masses of clogged infantry from being excellent targets for the Germans. Further attacks were ordered, but generally went worse than those in the morning, on many occasions being bombarded by their own confused infantry. General Mangin’s Senegalese corps suffered over 60% casualties, earning him the nickname of “broyeur de noir” (literally “black crusher,” also idiomatically “pessimist”).
The battle was to be the first use of French tanks in battle. However, due to mechanical and logistical difficulties, they could not be deployed until the early afternoon. Much lighter than the British tanks, the French tanks were easily taken out by German artillery, with many simply exploding into fireballs. Those that survived intact often became stuck in mud or fell into enemy trenches, not being long enough to bridge them themselves. In the one instance where they did reach their objective, they had outstripped their infantry (who were understandably reluctant to follow these exploding machines) and wandered aimlessly in the woods for some hours.
By the end of the day, after extensive German counterattacks, the French had advanced no further than a few hundred yards, and had not taken any significant portions of the German second line. Casualties were more than ten times what had been expected.
You had always lived a secluded life. Kids were never that eager to play with you, your family didn’t pay much attention to you, so you were left alone. You had always been looked at with fear and judgement steaming from you weird nature. Ever since you were younger you were always able to tell when it was going to rain, when storms were coming, if someone was lying; you were a threat to those who didn’t understand you.
You didn’t even understand yourself. As you grew up and realized these things were not normal you drew further into yourself, living the loner life that had been projected on you earlier in life.
You were 17, had just graduated from high school, and were moving to a secluded small town in Washington that took most of what you had earned in your years of working. You moved into your own small house and felt comfort in finally having your own space where no one could judge you. This was your home.
Once you moved in you slowly began noticing little things. Things you were looking for would appear on the table in front of you. Things you were thinking of putting away would be in their right place before you could move them. You thought these little things were just you and tried not to pay much attention to it. Then, one night a couple weeks later, on your 18th birthday, you woke up in immense pain. It felt like fire was coursing through your veins. After the pain passed you drove to the hospital worried that something was happening.
“Miss. Y/N,” a nurse said, “right this way.” You sat on the sterile white bed and looked around the white room. “Your heart rate seems very high. But, other than that your vitals look normal. Pupils a little dilated. Doctor Cullen will be in shortly to see you, ok?” You sat for a few minutes alone until the Doctor came in. He stopped in his spot for a split second before walking towards you, “Miss. Y/N,” he asked. “What seems to be the problem?”
You told him the fiery pain you had felt as he checked over your chart. As giving you a once over himself he told you, “Nothing seems to be wrong. If I had to guess I’d say something you ate hit you wrong and that’s what woke you up. Go home, get some rest, and take it easy today. Maybe try and get some sleep since it’s,” he looked at his watch, “2 am. And, if you have any other problems, come back in.” You didn’t see that as he left he had a hard gaze on you.
Sleep came easy to you but you were plagued with dreams of fire, water, and streaks of green wisps. When you opened your eyes is was 8 am and you knew you were up for the day.
The first our you were up was like a blur. Now, you were standing on the outskirts of the forest. You didn’t even remember why you decided to come here. You took a step forward and started your walk in the large Washington forrest. It was peaceful and something about it, the silence and complete naturalness of it, made you feel like you were in your element. An hour into your walk you felt like something was near you.
You heard a snap from behind and turned to see a large black bear about 30 yards from you. You stayed quiet and took a slight step back. Your attempt to go unnoticed failed when you stepped on a twig that cracked under your foot. The bear’s head shot up and looked around for the source. He turned towards you and raised on his hind legs.
You had read about this before. How it was best to stay still in these cases. You stood like a statue, waiting for the bear to move on. Instead, the bear began to sniff the air. Anger overcame him as he smelt you and he began charging towards you. As he got near you you threw your hands over your face on instinct and waited for the impact. Instead, nothing came You looked up and saw a clear, green tinted, energy in front of you that kept the bear away. He lost interest quickly and walked away.
You looked at your hands and then the energy. Bringing your hands down to look at them the energy dissolved. You didn’t have time to freak out about what you had just seen because a voice rang out and made you jump. “How did you just go that?” You looked up and saw a blonde man standing where the bear had been originally. He was in front of you in a second looking at your hands. “How did you do that,” his voice was intrigued not the usual judgemental and frightened tone that most gave you.
“I…I don’t know,” you said honestly. “How did you just get here,” you examined the distance he had just travel in no time at all.
“I’m…on the track team.”
“Right, and I talk to animals,” you said sarcastically. You both relaxed as a silent understanding passed between the two of you. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you offered a hand.
He seemed hesitant to touch the thing that just projected a bear away from you, but, just as you were about to take back your hand, he shook it, “I’m Jasper Cullen.”
Character(s): Scott x reader, Stiles x sister!reader, Liam x reader
Fandom: Teen Wolf
Word count: 1003
A/N: Ugh I wasn’t really sure how to end this and this is what happened but let me know how it was
Summary: Stiles’ younger sister is also a werewolf and is forced to endure being chained to a tree
“Think it’s been long enough?”
“Yes!” “C'mon Scott please?” you called out, chiming in with Liam’s hope of being unchained. “Hey, trying to have an adult conversation over here,” Stiles retorted, drawing a frustrated groan from both you and Liam. “You’re two years older than me,” he responded. “Three older than her,” Scott reminded Liam as he told the older boys “And I’m fine.” You piped up with “Me too!”, “Just let us go,” he finished; as the boys approached the tree you eyed Stiles hopefully, after all, he couldn’t keep doing this to his own flesh and blood, right?
Racial Traits Aquatic: Increases your swim speed by 50%, and you do not need to breathe while underwater. Natural Adaptation: Versatility increased by 1%. Think Like a Fish: Fishing skill increased by 15 and you can fish faster than normal anglers. Wandering Curiosity: Experience gains from discovering new locations increased by 20%.
Mglrmglmglmgl! Instant, 1 min cooldown
Rally your allies with a murloc warcry, increasing the movement speed of you and all party or raid members within 10 yards by 30% for 4 sec.
Two young herdsmen have recently discovered that La
Bête wounded on the first of this month is not dead. One of these children was guarding horned cattle near Cheminades, a
château 2 leagues from here, alone and without help, when the voracious
Bête came up to him. He ran to one of the bulls, which he was looking after, seized its tail and held on tightly. The bull faced La
Bête, fought her and kept her away with its horns, thus saving its little guardian.
The other, a shepherd, was guarding his flock the day before yesterday near the
château of Baume, was attacked by the same
Bête but a traveller [sic] in the district arrived, saved him and helped him defend himself.
Bête, repulsed, went and lay down 30 yards away but they went up to her and when they were near enough, they threw a stick at her, which hit her and made her cry out. She got up and went another 40 yards away.
They went to the
château to let them know but unfortunately the three shooters who lived there were out hunting.
Today a big hunt is being made up from fifty parishes and a prodigious number of good shots.