Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.
Warning(s): Fluff & Angst
A/N: A scene is lowkey inspired by the perks of a wallflower in this chapter sksk enjoy you little cuties !! sorryforthewait
Richie pulled over, smirking as he watched Eddie’s confusion grow.
“You stopped here?”
“Yep, now get out.” Richie hummed, before climbing out of the truck doorway- grabbing his keys and standing to his feet.
Eddie was confused, his head tilted as he climbed out and looked at his surroundings. What stood before him was a tall abandoned carpark building surrounded in intertwining railings, the strands of thin grass below standing tall and knee length to Eddie.
“This is an abandoned building.”
“Well done, captain K.” Richie spoke with sarcasm, hands in his pockets, “This is my hideout.”
Eddie stepped forward next to Richie, glancing at the wired railings that stood before them both. “So, how do you get into the hideout?”
Richie hummed yet again, walking along the side of the metal, his fingers trailing against each curve. His eyes fixated on a small gap that he used to climb through when he was younger. “I’m presuming you’re not a climber, right Eds?”
“I am not climbing that thing, no way.” Eddie folded his arms, “There should just be an entrance-”
New environments were never a comforting thought for a young
child. Y/FN Y/LN was no exception. Having moved into a new suburban home close
to her kindergarten, Y/N didn’t have many friends to begin – if any at all. The
world seemed too big for her tiny mind. Five years of living and Y/N was still
as shy as they come.
The first day of kindergarten arrived, and Y/N wanted to
show off her new glitter shoes – the ones that glow and sparkle in the sunlight
when she’d walk. Of course, she was way too shy to ever ask her classmates what
they thought, and to her, it was almost as if they never cared. Swinging her
feet as she sat in her chair, listening to the teacher introduce herself, Y/N
bowed her head, shamefully staring at the shoes she thought would bring her
A tiny, chubby cheeked boy with straight black hair turned
his attention towards Leg-Swinger, her pretty hair put up in pigtails as her
shiny shoes rocked back and forth. His straight and stern face was tough for a
fellow five-year-old, his eyes staring at the little girl across the room
intently. Diverting his attention back to the teacher, the little dark-haired
boy began to swing his feet.
Mrs. Park had finally released the tiny children, sending
them off to the playground. The sun beamed down as Y/N sat on the edge of the
sand box, her tiny legs burying her shoes and hiding the glitter. It was
embarrassing – all the other little girls had regular pink Barbie shoes and the
boys had their trucks and racecars. Y/N had glitter.
“I like your shoes, lady.” A tiny, squeaky voice piped up
from behind Y/N, making her tiny body shake and whirl around. Her eyes landed
on a timid boy, his hands wringing the hem of his shirt as his hard gaze met
her surprised face.
“Y-you do?” Y/N questioned, pink rushing to her cheeks. A
reassuring and forceful hum rumbled his throat as he nodded vigorously. His
black hair bounced as he nodded.
“I’m Jungkookie,” the little boy nervously pointed, “Who are
Y/N’s nose crinkled as she crossed her arms over her chest,
“I’m not lady, Jungkookie.”
“Then who are you?”
“Y/N,” Jungkook swallowed, “You’re pretty.” He blurted out
before running away, the dirt flying from his shoes as he ran.
“Wait!” Y/N called out, watching him disappear into the
playground slides. Turning back to face the shoes buried in sand, Y/N’s legs
slowly pulled out, letting the sand fall off from the glitter.
So first you pick your poison. Maybe it’s one of those nice ointments, But if you aren’t fancy, Maybe it’s a wormwood tea, Or a mugwort tea, Or a mushroom tea if you’re kinky like that. And you drink it all at once. You set the cuckoo clock ticking. And with each tick-tock, You go down further into yourself Like a musket ball being rammed into a gun. And you think, “this is bullshit,” But you do it anyway And when the clock screams “cuckoo,” Your soul comes out of your mouth In the form of a crow And you fly to the West. Your arms - Your arms twitch in every world - flapping - And your beak - because you have a beak - Barrels through dirt. Earth upon earth, down and down, Dirt flying Until you reach the Underworld, Where the sun is ever-setting And the skies are gray And the heavens are dotted with the roots of trees, Which shine like stars.
Summary: You’d always kept an eye out for those alpha boys down the road. Either one alone could’ve swept you off your feet but it was both of them together that drove you crazy. Unfortunately, a few too many incidents involving some bad apples turned you off of alphas altogether. So, now you’re content to live out your days on your family’s farm. That is, until Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes show up on your doorstep looking for work.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes, eventual Steve x Bucky x Reader
Series Warnings: Farm AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, NSFW (18+), Smut, Angst, Fluff (yes, all of ‘em lol), mentions of past sexual assault, M/M and M/F/M sexual situations, some violence, and all the usual warnings that come with omegaverse stuff
Word Count: ~2268
A/N: The idea was sparked by [this] @angryschnauzer post from a while ago that had all sorts of ideas going off in my head until I settled on this one lol. Hopefully I’m not stepping on anybody’s toes by doing this! If so, please feel free to message me about it. If not, hopefully y’all enjoy my farm AU! This chapter is mostly set up, smut in the next one!
Tags are at the bottom! If any of y’all don’t like a/b/o or smut or farm aus or whatever else lol, just message me or send me an ask and I’ll leave you off of the taglist for this series! No hard feelings ♥♥
Your dress kicked up in the late afternoon breeze but you paid little attention to it as you moved around the yard to prep things for tomorrow’s work. Your father was the only other person around for miles and he’d been cooped up inside the house reading a book for most of the day.The evenings gave you little reprieve from the summer’s heat and it was a wonder that you didn’t waste your days away down by the stream on the back of the property.
With your mother up in town to take care of some paperwork, you’d been left with most of the chores around the farm until she got back. You were taking down the washing when they rolled up in Mr. Barnes old truck, kicking up dust as they rattled down the dirt road leading up to the house. Despite the dust and noisy exhaust, you could still scent the both of them as they pulled up next to your daddy’s truck near the haybarn.
aaaaaa ;; I’m sorry for this being so late I’ve been so busy ~ little goose
little guy! Show me what you got!” Cait got into a fighting stance and smirked at Maxson. In a matter of seconds she was flipped over and on the ground.
“Watch what you say, civilian. I will not tolerate-” Cait had got up as he was speaking and sucker punched the Elder right in the face. The fight was on. It lasted around 3 hours tops, both getting knocked around by the other. The fight was closed to a tie because never of them would give up. Curie scolded them both when they were done, saying that “it was a hazard to their health” if they continued. Maxson suffered from a fractured wrist, a broken nose, and a cluster of bruises making his face swollen. Cait suffered a minor concussion a black eye, a few cracked ribs, and a sprained hand. They both decided it was best to not do that again, unless they got bored.
Maxson raised an eyebrow at the Mr. Handy.
“Sir? If I may, I don’t think it would be wise to conduct a fight against you, my saw arm alone is enough to give you stitches. I wouldn’t want to worry Miss Curie.”
“I suggest if you don’t want to be turned into a scrap heap, then you better stay back.” As Maxson said that, it made Codsworth run tail and run, he didn’t even want to fight the Elder of the brotherhood anyway.
Curie is a sweetheart, why would anyone want to fight her? She doesn’t even like fighting, only when it’s necessary. When asked to Maxson she was in shock.
“Fight him? He has done nothing wrong to provoke me! Yes I mean he can be a bit ah, rude to me but that’s not a reason to hurt him!” However, she still ended up to face to face with him.
“Monsieur? If I may, I do not wish to fight you.” Curie crossed her arms in protest. Maxson didn’t say anything, just shrugged and walked off. He’d never admit it but he was quite fond of Curie since she helped people no matter what, despite being a synth.
“Me? Fight elder Maxson? You’re out of your mind.” Danse crossed his arms and stared at the person who dared him.
“Last time that happened I ended up with a few broken ribs and a hand. I was off the field for almost 5 months.” He looked at the ground and then back up,
“Of course I was more naive and less aware at that time, maybe I will take him on again.” Later that day, Danse was seen fighting Maxson. He wore a swollen face and a bloody nose just looking at him, however he also had a broken rib and a sprained ankle. Maxson had a black eye and what seemed like a fractured hand. Maxson was winning, Danse was unfortunately too cocky to take him on, leaving him on the ground after being flipped over, and then being left with a shattered pride.
“me, fight that hunk?” He laughed loudly, “Oh goodness, you gotta be kidding me!” He wiped a tear from his eyes from laughing so hard.
“Well, you only live once, am I right?” He got up to go find Maxson. Once he spotted him, he popped a stealth boy and snuck up to him. He forcibly pulled the elder down, however he did not expect him to reach blindly in the air and take a lucky grab at the spy, pulling him down too. Deacon slammed onto the ground, giving him a small nose bleed.
“Using a stealth boy, eh? Coward, show yourself!” Maxson yelled out in anger. Deacon quickly ran off, but kept his cool as he told the person who dared him that he totally beat Masson with just one punch. No one believed him since they saw Maxson the next day with no bruising or swelling showing that he’d been in a fight.
He tilted his head in confusion. He was a sweet dog (most of the time), why would he jump Maxson? Dogmeat didn’t move, he just sat down, scratched himself and rolled around on the ground in boredom.
“I’ll gladly do so.” Hancock smirked a mischievous smirk. He strolled up to Maxson with a wide grin on his face.
“What do you want, ghoul?” Maxson looked at him in disgust.
“Oh nothing, just wanted to give you something.” Hancock punched the elder in the face and yelled out, “Fight me you little punk!” The fight my friends, was on. Maxson was strong and fast, but Hancock was swift and flexible. He was like a fox letting a bull charge him but then jumping to the side at the last second. Maxson was able to get a few punches on the mayor but soon found himself on the ground in pain. Hancock had body slammed him to the ground and walked off with just a broken finger and a slight limp in stride that wpuld last at least a week. Maxson however had a cracked rib, a black eye, and busted lip. No one ever let the elder live that down. Who couldn’t talk about it? The elder of the Brotherhood of Steel had just got his ass kicked by a skinny ghoul from Goodneighbor.
Maccready nervously chuckled
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, I mean I’m not really trained in hand-to-hand combat.” However he strolled up to Maxson and was about to punch the guy in the face but when he turned around and questioned Maccready, the poor sniper just about jumped out of his skin and ran away with his tail tucked between legs.
Nick: “Listen, I would and I really want to, but he could easily turn me into a scrap heap the next time he saw me, so I’d better not.” The detective lit up a cigarette,
“However, maybe if I’m feeling risky I might just fight the guy”
“Bring it Maxson! Fight me!” Piper put her fists up at the taller man. Maxson looked down at her and scoffed.
“Do you really want to do tha-” before he could finish his sentence, piper went right into fighting dirty and had kicked him right in the baby maker. The elder held his groin in pain as a tear welled up in his eye, but he held it in. He gasped slightly before maintaining his posture and got rewards with a strong kick to the shin bringing him down on one knees. Piper cheered,
“Hey guys! I just brought the elder of the Brotherhood of Steel to his knees!! How many of you can say that, huh??” She walked laughing and pumped her fists in the air, she was definitely writing an article about this.
“Oh I don’t know, he’s a really strong guy….but I always wanted to challenge him!” Preston smiled and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. Later that day, he walked up to Maxson and bluntly told he wanted to challenge him to a fight.
“Challenge me? To a fight? You do realize you are addressing the Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel, correct?” Maxson challenged Preston, his back straight and staring sternly at the Minuteman.
“I know exactly who I’m addressing and I’m challenging you to a fight.” Preston stared down the Elder.
“Very well then.” With that, the two were at each other, punches flying and dirt being kicked up everywhere. Soon enough, Preston landed a punch square Maxson’s face. The sweet pure man soon realized that was a mistake since he then found himself on the ground, wheezing, flooding coming from his face. He groaned as he slowly got up, suddenly feeling nauseous.
“Monsieur! Oh dear, you need to be treated immediately! You too Monsieur Maxson! Come come! ” Curie had ran up to scene of the fight just in time to see Preston go on the ground.
“Curie I’m fine..just need to catch my breath..” Preston almost went unconscious as he stumbled to Curie’s place. He was diagnosed with a few broken ribs, a bruised shoulder and a broken nose, Maxson however, had a broken nose and a fractured jaw. Preston decided to never challenge Maxson again.
As soon as he was dared he got a wild grin on his face.
“Strong smash small human? STRONG SMASH PUNY HUMAN!” He ran over to Maxson bellowing a loud roar. Maxson silently thanked whoever was listening that the super mutant was so loud that no one could hear his high-pitched scream as he was taken into the mutants arms and thrown like a rag doll. The Elder suffered from a number of injuries: broken leg, arm, wrist, a concussion, and extremely sore joints and muscles for next few months. It took a ton of persuasion to convince Maxson not to terminate Strong for treating him so poorly.
“I will gladly punch the shit out of that surface filth.” Standing up, X6 walked out of the room, finding Maxson easily.
“Excuse me, sir? I wish to speak with you.” Maxson turned around at the voice, seeing who called him.
“What do you wan-” before the Elder could finish, he was punched in the face, kicked in the shin, and thrown on the ground in a matter of seconds.
“Hm, always wanted to do that.” With that, X6 walked off calmly, like nothing happened leaving Maxson in a stunned daze wondering what had just happened.
Maxson was aboard the Prydwen, strolling towards his quarters when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted something. He stopped and looked around and saw someone right beside him. Thinking it was an attacker, he launched himself at the intruder only to come into contact with a wall. No, wait, it was mirror. Maxson launched himself at a reflection of himself like a puppy seeing itself in a mirror for the first time. Humiliated and sore, Maxson was just glad that no one saw that and he shamefully shuffled into his quarters and stayed there for the rest of the night. However, he did not see the newest recruit climbing up from the command deck just in time to witness the scene. The next day, Maxson walked down the hall wondering why everyone was whispering and snickering when he walked by.
Gage laughed, loudly. “That little guy? I bet you 30 caps I’ll win!” Gage quickly strolled up to Maxson with a huge grin on his face. Maxson turned around and in exchange, got a sucker punch to the face. He staggered backwards slightly from the force and held his bloody nose. “What the hell??” Maxson’s eyes flashed a lethal look towards Gage and lunged towards him. Maxson had Gage underneath him and was angrily punching him. Gage quickly rolled away and ran off, limping ever so slightly. Gage lost his thirty caps and a got rewarded with a broken nose a few chipped teeth and two black eyes.
“Why would I do such a thing?” Ada was confused, why would she attack someone just to attack someone? She walked away from the person who asked her and went to go do her own thing leaving the person slightly disappointed since they didn’t get to see a fight.
Anonymous said:What about a human prince and fairy prince meeting? 👀
baconator153 said:Can I have some prompts about a human just realizing they were trapped in the fae realm? With the fae who fed them the faerie food wanting them as a prize or a pet? I loved your other fae prompts!
Anonymous said:Could I possibly ask for some nice fairies? Perhaps a fairy helping a human escape their abusive family or saving them from imminent danger? /even though that would probably result in the human owing them something >.>/ thank you!
Anonymous said:Some prompts about the fairies that aren’t complete dicks to the human? Ty <3
Anonymous said:Could we get some exclusive seelie and unseelie prompts? I really love your fairy prompts!!!!
1) “Apparently,” the prince said. “We are to be betrothed.” It would be an alliance between their kingdoms, between the mortal world and the immortal court. They tried for a friendly, diplomatic smile and held out a hand to shake. “Perhaps we can set aside our childhood differences? For the good of our people.” They were well aware of the people watching. “But, of course. We are not children anymore.” The fey prince returned with a singularly beautiful smile, clasping their hand and then leaning in to press a kiss to each of the prince’s cheeks, drawing them into a fond and conciliatory embrace. “I’m going to tear your heart out with my teeth before I ever marry a human, royal or not, no matter what my mother says,” they hissed in the prince’s ear. They pulled back, smiling again, as people clapped. Alright then.
2) It had been the perfect picnic. Their date had seemed so lovely, so attentive, so wonderful in the sunlight. Until they tried to leave. They’d hit an invisible barrier, an impossible barrier, again and again and again. They didn’t understand at first. They didn’t believe in fairies. Now…they tried reason, peruasion. People will be looking for me, they’ll be worried. I would be inconvenient to keep, I don’t even know anything about fairies. I’m flattered you’ve taken such a liking to me, but I really do have to get home. I’ll come and visit you, you don’t have to keep me like this. Rage - you can’t fucking keep me! I’ll kill you before I let you keep me. You tricked me! Despair - they crumpled on the forest floor, resolutely ignoring the fae. Stomach churning from having tried to throw up anything fae, head pounding from crying. Now - “just let me go, please.” Nothing left but to beg. “Don’t be silly,” the fae murmured. “My sweet treasure, I will take such good care of you. You won’t miss your home once the sun sets. I hate to see you like this.”
3) They sprinted through the forest. Clothes torn, tears in the corner of their ears, fear growing at the tramp of boots behind them. The branches of trees whipped cuts in their arms, tangled in their hair. They pushed themselves to run faster - they couldn’t get caught, they absolutely couldn’t get caught. The twisting of the undergrowth sent them flying. They hit the dirt hard, face down. Whipped around in terror of the pursuers right at their heels and - light. The trees coiled protectively, the vines snagged at their pursuers and sent them flying back. Thorns grew where there had been no thorns before; thorns fierce and wicked enough to impale a man in armour. They watched stunned. Jumped violently as a hand rested gently on their shoulder from behind. “It’s alright, you’re safe here. Stay in this area of the woods for as long as you want, you will find plentiful food and water and soft flowers upon which to lay your head. Just don’t try and hunt or start any fires. And don’t attempt to take anything with you when you go.”
4) “This has been amazing,” the human said with a smile. “But I really should be getting home now. People will be worried.” “You’ll visit again?” the fairy asked eagerly. “So little changes around here - we would be happy if you came again. Maybe you could bring some of that ice cream you talked about?” “Ice cream and a cactus, gotcha. Next Friday?”
5) The seelie looked over at the sovereign of the unseelie court, heart hammering in their chest. Even the sight of them gliding through the party brought a touch of frost to the summer festivities. A darkness. They came over and held out a hand to the seelie. “You said you liked dancing.” There was absolutely no chance that the unseelie was truly there to dance, nor to party like this.The sovereign of the summer court gave them a look - when pray, have you talked to an unseelie sovereign about dancing? The seelie accepted the hand. “Yes. Perhaps you’d do me the honour?” A century of treaties and peace negotiations were not about to be blown because they felt their heart might drop out of their chest.
6) “Apparently,” the prince said. “We are to be betrothed.” “I thought it an excellent idea when I suggested it.” The prince missed a beat, heart stuttering. “You suggested it?” “Of course,” the fey prince said. “I know you’re mine, but we may as well make it legal in your realm.” They had never met before in their life to the prince’s memory.
He can remember the exact moment he wanted to do this.
He was six years old, sitting in the passenger’s seat of his brother’s truck while Liam paced around in the light coming from the parked vehicle’s headlights, voice raised as he fought to keep Killian with him.
He was listening to the radio- crackling due to distance, but enough for him to hear the woman talking about the latest space launch.
With bright eyes, Killian had stared up at the night sky, counted the stars, and suddenly desperately wished he could be there. Not here, with Liam or in the system where he’d likely end up. If his parents didn’t wish to stay, then neither did he.
He turned his smile on me, and a weighted dread settled in my gut. Very few of the monsters that we’d hunted gave me that feeling. The fact that he’d done it almost instantly was probably not a good sign.
“So this one thinks she’s smart,” the man started, “and that one thinks he’s tough. And that one,” he gestured at Sam with his free hand, “well that one just wants to blast my head off because I’m threatening the little lady.”
I growled at the title and made a move to rise from the crouch I was in.
Hi I'm really glad the requests are open again, is it possible to do a scenario of revali in a soulmate au. Please and Thank you. By the way, I really love the stuff you do have a nice day :)
[A/N: efhskbebobdvk thank youuuu, and sorry it’s so long! I was really inspired!!]
You had been traveling between villages for a few weeks selling merchandise and the likes, but today was going to be a relax day. You had been taking your time to walk the farmer’s market admiring all the different jewelry and large vegetables, and stop occasionally to look over precious stones.
You weren’t sure why you chose to come today, but you paid no mind and tried to enjoy nonetheless. However…there was a strange inkling that wouldn’t leave you alone and you occupied yourself in merchandise that wasn’t even interesting to you, but for some reason you felt you needed to stay.
When you came to a vendor, their spread was out of place from the others. This one had shrunken heads, bird skeletons in cages, and different pots filled with different ingredients. The smell was overpowering, but for some reason you decided to look within the stall.
Further into their makeshift tent, books lined the walls on rickety shelves. You ran your fingers over the spines of the books noticing none of them had any titles. You found it odd how some look brand new while others looked worn and well read. Not a one matched, but some had similar spine decor.
You were about to walk to another shelf when one book caught your eye. It was a deep navy blue, with a red and white spine. You traced over the intricate impressions in the cover and mused to yourself that the material felt soft as feathers. Gently picking it up you looked it over and like all the other books it did not have titled, nor an author. When you opened it, your confusion only increased as you flipped through all the pages. There was not a single word nor picture in it.
Strange, you thought, and went to pick up another book only to find you couldn’t. You set the book you were holding down and used both hands on the other to take it off the shelf. It would not budge for the life of you, it was like it was glued to the spot.
“You can try all you want, but you are not the owner of that book.”
You spun around from the sudden grainy voice, and the shopkeeper was hunched over at the entrance. They gave you a wrinkly smile as their hand shook to hold up one finger. They pointed to the book behind you, “That is your book.”
You raised a brow before looking between them and the object, “…And why is that?”
They hobbled in using their cane and walked by you all the while speaking, “Do you plan to take responsibility of each and every book?”
“Then you do not need to know anything more than that.” They ran their crooked fingers over the blue book. “Why did you come here today, young one?”
You were taken back, not sure where this was leading, “I had the day off, I suppose.”
“You do not sound sure.”
“Erm…I am not sure what I would need to be certain of.”
They gave a slow smile, their jaw jittering along with their body. “Take the book.”
“Wha-, well, I don’t know if I want it. It’s just a journal.”
“Is it now?”
Their question fluttered around your head like a bird in a cage, and it left a deep curiosity that began to slowly burn. You weren’t even aware, but you had picked up the book, running your fingers against the soft cover. Gazing upon this hardcover it gave you a familiar feeling, and you looked up, “How much will it b-”
The old person was not there and the makeshift tent you were in was gone.
You looked around with wide eyes to realize you were in the middle of the farmer’s market still. Taking a step back, the shop you once were in, now you stood on a patch of dirt. You held the book closely to your chest and you decided that you were done looking around for the day.
Finally home and in your bed, you were reading a book under the lantern’s light, but you weren’t able to keep focus. Your eyes would wander to the journal on your nightstand, its existence proving to be loud and obnoxious. You sighed and leaned over to grab it to pull it back in your lap. As you flipped through the pages again you were scolding yourself that there was nothing there. You ran your hand along your head in frustration, and left it open at a blank page.
“What’s so special about you?” But the book did not answer your heated question. You leaned back against your headboard feeling like giving up, and blankly stared at the page of the book. You ran your finger along it as if reading a sentence, but you began to squint your eyes.
Was there….something forming on the page?
Upon closer inspection, an image slowly bled its way in. An image emerged overlooking mountains high in the night sky while clouds slowly made their way across the horizon and leaves rustled from the winds. You were in awe and amazed from the slow motion image, and you rubbed your eyes thinking you were seeing things.
But you weren’t.
Though you were terrified of this strange phenomenon, each night you open the book to find it had new paintings of different scenery and sometimes people. You gather that whoever this was, is a Rito given one photo had their arm stretched out with a large bow held by their wings. It was like a drug you couldn’t wean yourself off of and you anxiously await the night to fall asleep to these images.
The Rito was apparently close to the Princess as there was one image of her with a young blond man kneeling in front of her. You gathered that these images were memories, and whether they were current or from the past, you could not decipher. You were becoming fond of whoever this Rito was and adored they images from their point of view in the sky.
One night while admiring the old paintings something new happened. A new image bled onto the page, this time of the Rito’s wings held in front of them as if they had committed a heinous act. Their hands shook and looked pain..
‘I feel so alone.’
It read underneath the painting causing a sharp pain to shoot through your body. You ran your fingers along the image as if they could feel your comfort. “What’s wrong..?” You whispered and your heart felt heavy as the book did not reply…
‘They doubt me.’
‘Why him? Am I not good enough?’
‘I have worked so hard. I do not understand.’
‘I am afraid…’
Each night new paintings appeared with a text underneath, and they grew more desperate. Their images were becoming distorted and began to come in like melting strip of film. The more the weeks dragged on it spurred you to try to connect to this Rito that was a complete stranger. You whispered encouragements you knew they could not hear and brought the book with you everywhere as if it was a way for them not to be alone.
You were sitting on a rock somewhere in the Great Plateau flipping through the pages again. It was like watching a timeline of a sound person slowly coming undone. Some days this Rito would have wonderful and beautiful days, and others…they were wallowing in self hate. You sighed coming to an empty page, “I wish I could help you….”
As if the book heard you plea a new painting came and what you saw made your jaw drop. It was you, clearly blurry and more of your lap than anything, but it was your clothes being swept in the gentle wind. Beneath it, words appeared..
‘Who is this? Why is this person in this book?’
Frantically, you scrabbled about looking for your travel sack and rummage through to find a quill. However, before you could attempt to write a reply in a silly hope they would receive it, a new image appeared, but this time of your hands holding the book.
‘Their book almost looks similar to my own.’
And you gasped, feeling excitement course through your veins. You stood up holding the book out in front of you, “Yes! Yes! It’s because they’re connected! Oh please! Tell me you can hear me?! Sense me?! Something?!” But there was no reply, however, it spurred a intense feeling of determination. They had a book that was in connection to this one, and you knew that somehow they would be able to see your memories.
With a burst of energy, you bound for the Rito village across the land and you hoped that they could see what you see. Maybe they would realize you were on your way and your heart rammed in your chest from fear and excitement. You had no idea what these books meant to either of you, but somehow you know it was the fate of the Goddess that you two should meet.
When night fell, you sat by your small campfire for warmth and held the book in your lap while patiently waiting for a new image. It seemed like hours before a new painting emerge and this time it was them soaring in the nighttime sky. You held your hand to your mouth in astonishment at the words appearing before you.
‘Are you still waiting?’
“Yes!” You said in excitement, beaming at this wondrous phenomenon. You could only wonder what images along with words appeared for them and you looked up to the sky in great anticipation. “Oh please, oh please. I’ve been waiting so long.” You whispered to the sky and bounce from your spot on the ground. It was exhilarating, it was magical, nothing in this world could top this! You could hardly sit still and stood up to turn in a circle looking at the sky. You closed your eyes and pressed the book tightly to your chest. “I don’t know how this works, but please come soon.”
An hour or so passed and you were still wide awake. Nothing new appeared in the book and you were becoming impatient. Slowly, and surely, you heard loud flaps in the distance and right as you turned around a gush of wind blew harshly causing you to shut your eyes from the flying dirt. As you blinked away, your vision gazed at the feet of a Rito and followed it up to their face. For a Rito, he looked quite handsome and within his wing was a book with your colors but matching spine decor.
He looked a little smug as he looked you over and quirked a feather brow up. He noticed the book in your hands and held his up, “Seems we might become reading partners. Shall we open a book club?”
You snorted and shook your head at his jest, but the excitement bubbling within you was about to burst. “Strange book club with only two members.” You took a step closer and tried to ignore the awe you felt at his height.
His beak quirked in a smile as he too took a step closer, “Well, they do say three’s a crowd.”
“I’ve been anxiously waiting to meet you.” You spoke in a hush voice, finding the air within you disappearing, but it was not unpleasant. He gave another cocky smile and pulled up a page from his book, it was of your point of view looking up to the sky with the captions underneath, ‘I’ve been waiting so long.’
You could feel your cheeks burn and gave a sheepish laugh.
“I am Revali.” He spoke surely, but gently.
“I…” You laughed and smiled, “I’m [Name]…” You placed your hand on top of his book and he looked at you curiously as your eyes glimmered with your deeper emotions, “And I will make sure you never feel alone again.”
Summary:Three years after you almost die from a werewolf attack, Peter Hale comes to you, tortured and bloodied, seeking a safe haven. What could possibly go wrong? Characters in this chapter: Peter Hale, Chris Argent, female reader Characters mentioned: Derek Hale Pairing: Eventual Peter x reader [slow burn], Past Derek Hale x reader, Derek Hale x Braeden Word Count: 1,769 Warnings: Language, angst, Peter feeling your pain [it’ll make sense], female reader getting drunk Author’s Note: This is my first time writing Peter, so if I get something wrong, I’m sorry. Miss the Beginning?
You should have gone to bed when Peter called a truce after your little temper tantrum, but you didn’t. Rather, you sat on the couch and worked hard at finishing the bottle of whiskey.
Was what Derek said true, were you still in pain from the alpha three years ago? You thought you’d overcome the oppressive, suffocating, debilitating physical pain of it, learning to live with the gruesome scars left behind. Maybe you didn’t feel it anymore because of your coping mechanism; Johnny Blue and Jack.
You scoffed before taking another long pull. It wasn’t like drinking was the worst thing in the world. You weren’t out there trying to score some illicit drug. Although, it wasn’t difficult to see the appeal. The mind-numbing bliss as it raced through you, turning everything beautiful up to level 15 while shutting off everything you wanted to but couldn’t forget. Maybe it was time to take a step back from the bottle and onto something new.
Tiffany got up early and lit the fires. When her mother came down, she was scrubbing the kitchen floor, very hard.
“Er…aren’t you supposed to do that sort of thing by magic, dear?” said her mother, who’d never really got the hang of what witchcraft was all about.
“No, Mum, I’m supposed not to,” said Tiffany, still scrubbing.
“But can’t you just wave your hand and make all the dirt fly away, then?”
“The trouble is getting the magic to understand what dirt is,” said Tiffany, scrubbing hard at a stain. “I heard of a witch over in Escrow who got it wrong and ended up losing the entire floor and her sandals and nearly a toe.”
Mrs. Aching backed away. “I thought you just had to wave your hands about,” she mumbled nervously.
“That works,” said Tiffany, “but only if you wave them about on the floor with a scrubbing brush.”
Can I get any sort of Tony whip? Maybe even a character death? It's been that sort of day
I’m sorry, anon. I hope you feel better soon.
This is in relation to the recent Infinity War info.
Tony can’t breathe.
There’s dirt flying around the air, the ground trembling with agony. Around him are his teammates, the ex-ones and the ones that stuck by him. The Guardians are forming a flock behind him under Quill’s order. Other’s like Strange and Mantis, are off to the side; down but not dead. At least, he hopes.
Standing before them all, with his twisted smile in place, is Thanos. On his right hand is the infinity gauntlet, the infinity stones gleaming despite the overcast.
But Tony can’t get air into his lungs.
His suit is damaged but functioning. His stats are low around to FRIDAY, barely above critical. Oxygen is pumping into his suit at desperate speeds.
When FRIDAY doesn’t reply, Tony closes his eyes. He can’t give up, regardless of his limits. None of them can give up. No matter what. The fate of the world is riding on their shoulders. He promised Pepper he’d come home. He promised Rhodey he’d take him to Italy for his birthday. He promised Peter he’d make it into MIT.
“What do we do?” Natasha’s voice calls softly.
“We fight until we can’t fight anymore,” Tony hears himself say. “Because it’s our duty to not give up.” God, he sounds like Steve.
Nobody can when Thanos raises his covered fist and a green beam of light shoots from his palm and smacks right through them like a knife through butter.
Tony is thrown back several feet, slamming into a stone wall in full force. Alarm bells go off in his suit, but he can barely hear them. His ears are ringing. He tastes copper. His vision blurs.
“The next aim is for Peter,” FRIDAY says, her voice falling softly. “Sir, orders?”
“FRIDAY, put all power into the foot thrusters and get me to Peter. Now!”
He doesn’t feel himself move, but he knows he is. He sees himself fly past everyone -
- and he doesn’t make it.
Peter is sent back several yards, body smacking into the ground over and over and over and - Tony hears someone screaming. It takes him a moment to realize it’s himself. He’s screaming. Pleading. The words tumble out of his mouth when he lands next to Peter and yanks off the face piece.
“Kid!” Tony calls. “Peter! Peter, wake up!”
“T-Tony?” Peter answers, voice raspy and full of pain.
“Yeah, I’m here. You’re gonna’ be okay, you hear me? You’re gonna’ be okay.” Tony hears the others fighting in the background - the sound of Thor’s hammer smacking on something metal, the sound of Steve yelling his voice raw, and Barnes and Rocket firing off their guns - and tries to block them out for a moment.
“Tony, I’m sorry.” Small tears start trailing down Peter’s face. “I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Tony replies.
“I’m getting you out of here, okay? Just give me a sec - “
“Tony! Watch out!”
Tony knows what that means, but he doesn’t move. Instead, he leans closer and covers Peter, using his hand to shield Peter’s exposed face. He plants himself in the ground next to Peter, ordering FRIDAY to secure him to the ground by any means necessary.
The blast smacks into him, but Tony hangs on. He keeps Peter covered despite pain riddling his body like someone taking a hammer to him. His heart is beating fast - too fast - and then the pain stops. All at once. He can’t feel his hands. Can’t feel anything. His vision is blurry again. There’s a ringing in his ears.
Summary: As Archie’s older sister you return to Riverdale amid the closing of the Jason Blossom murder case when tragedy strikes your life. Traumatized you race home from England to the comfort of your Dad’s arms. To think it tragedy would strike again in the Andrews family just weeks are your return.
Characters: Jughead Jones x Andrews!Reader, Archie Andrews, Fred Andrews, Betty Cooper, Veronica Lodge, OFC!Ruth Abbott, and Mary Andrews
Disclaimer: I do not own Riverdale or the characters. Nor do I own any images, gifs, jokes and lyrics that may appear in this.
Warnings: Swearing, injuries, traumatic event, Riverdale shooting, death (mentioend), fluff and angst
A/N: I really love this one for some reason. Please request more Teen Wolf and Riverdale imagines. Thank you.
Walking towards your seats near the front of the room in the concert area you giggled with the girl beside you. Both with a closed can of alcohol, thank god for the youngest age limit, you were excited for the concert to begin. It was your first in your new home and to have it with the first person you connected with after the flight you were ecstatic.
“Oh my god! I can’t believe we’re seeing this!” Ruth screamed over the music. It was getting you pumped and hearing Ruth’s accent really set into your mind.
“Best way to end the week and our break begins!” You yelled back as the announcer called out the band.
“I hope your pumped London! Give it up for Machine Gun Kelly!” The entire Hype Park area freaked as he walked on stage.
You weren’t crazy obsessed with him but Ruth was a massive fan so when he announced he would be appearing in the small concert you knew you had to come. Getting cheap tickets was easy when you knew the right people.
“We’re going to start with Bad Things!” MGK called out before it began.