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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years

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It Had to be Witches

Dean and Sam are on a hunt at Rowena’s request. When Sam is out of commission, Dean has to work with you.

Warnings: Unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!) male oral receiving, fingering, mention’s of witchcraft, brief mentions of ritual style murders, brief mention of animal sacrifice, Dean is a sad boy.

Word count: 3567

All written and proofread (poorly) by me. All mistakes are my own. Please don’t copy or repost my work. Likes are great and I’ll love you forever if you repost and comment. Thanks for reading.

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Sam and Dr. Philips examined each of the women’s bodies. Carved into their limbs were runes consistent with the ones Rowena described. She said she was sending an expert who lived in the area but the boys hadn’t made contact yet.

“The other agent who was just here asked the same questions. Don’t you guys talk to each other?” Dr. Philips covered the bodies. Some of the women he knew personally.

“Different departments. You said he was just here? How long ago?”

“She. Her name is Diana Luna. She’s down at the evidence locker. All the women had the same necklace. She went to check it out.”

Sam thanked the doctor and set off to find you. First he called Dean. “Looks like Rowena’s story checks out. Her expert was just here. The bodies were marked with runes and all of their tongues cut out. And, get this, they all had the same necklace. Maybe a coven?”

“Of course. Of course it’s witches, Sam. Look, don’t go far. I’m on my way.” Sam was sitting on a bus bench reading coroner's reports when you approached him. Due to the nature of the case, Rowena insisted the elder Winchester carry out the task at hand. “Use Sam as bait.” she instructed.

“Agent Cornell? I’m agent Luna from the Lansing office.” You extended your hand. “Director Macleod sent me.”

“Yeah, I bet she did. Bring me up to speed.”

“Sure. I’ve got what you’re looking for right here.” You blew a very potent powder in his face knocking him out. You put the lankier Winchester into your truck and sped back to your house. Getting his dead weight up the stairs was a task but you did it. “Sweet dreams, Sam.”

Dean searched the entire town square for Sam with no luck. He tried his phone again and it was going directly to voicemail. Sam could hold his own against any witch but Dean was still worried. As he unlocked the door to the Impala, he heard you call his name over his shoulder and turned his head to see who was speaking. You blew the dream dust into his face rendering him unconscious.

He was heavier than he looked. You shoved him into the back seat and pried the keys from his hand. Baby growled angrily when she started but you had her purring for you in no time. You drove him back to your house and dragged him inside where you intended to tie him up. Rowena coached you on all their tricks. You took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and divested him if anything sharp. With his wrists and ankles bound in a pretty decent slip knot you splashed his face with water to wake him.

“Morning, handsome.” he smirked as you wiped his face.

“Big mistake, sweetheart. I’m guessing you’re the one we’re looking for.”

“Pretty and dumb. Rowena was right and you would be guessing wrong. Her name is Teresa Wilson. She came seeking asylum with our coven a few months ago. Said her whole order was obliterated. Turns out, she wasn’t exactly who she said she was.”

His face split into a cocky grin, “They never are. What do you want with me?”

“You need to help me find her. Rowena gave me a locator spell. When I cast the spell, I’ll need your fancy bullets. Problem is…”

He laughed heartily, “Problem is you can’t touch ‘em, am I right, sweetheart?”

“You would be correct.”

“And what’s in it for me?”

You took a step back just out of his reach just in case, “If you help me I’ll let your brother live.”

He strained against the ropes veins bulging in his forearms. “If you touch one hair on his head I’ll rip you apart myself. You hear me, witch?”

Your nails dug sharp into the meat of his cheeks so he would look at you. “Relax, baby. Your brother is safe. He’s asleep upstairs dreaming of puppies and rainbows as we speak. But if you don’t help me, he’ll never wake up. And, Dean, when I kill someone, it sticks. No resurrections for Sammy this time.”

You’ve never seen a human man snarl before. It was pretty cute. Rowena warned you not to be mesmerized by his sweet face and his Disney Princess eyes but you couldn’t help it. The man looked like he would, in fact, rip you apart. And, Hecate help you, you wished he would. You traced a finger along his sharp stubble covered jaw. His eyes turned up to look into yours, throwing daggers at you. “Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re angry?”

“All the time. Get to the spell so I can take my brother out of here.” he growled.

“It’s not time. If I untie you, are you gonna be a good boy or do I have to hit you with my knock out dust again?” You couldn’t take your eyes off of his perfect lips smiling at you.

“Sure, mommy, I’ll be a real good boy.”

You knelt in front of him and parted his knees slightly to undo the first knot. “Such a smart ass.” He growled low in his throat when you peered at him through your lashes. His dick grew painfully hard against his jeans as you slid your hand up his legs to maintain balance. Of course you noticed though he tried to squeeze his thighs together to hide his arousal. “Do you like me like this, Dean?”

Of course he did. You were just his type. A little bratty but you had a good heart. Rowena told them about you. The little warrior for the Grand Council. They constantly sent you to do their dirty work and you did so without question like a good soldier. No wonder Rowena paired the two of you. You were the female version of him. “Like what?” His voice was low and dripping with need.

“On my knees for you. Looks like you do.” You winked at him but he looked away embarrassed.

It had been a long time since he felt a woman wrapped hot around him. Everything in him wanted to follow your siren song and happily crash. He couldn’t do it. This story always ended bloody. “You couldn’t handle it, sweetheart.” He peered down at the bulge in his pants. So did you. Your core heated at the thought.

“Is that a dare or a double dare?.” He spread his legs and licked his lips inviting you to take what you wanted. You shook it off and focused on the task at hand. “Well in any case, I made you dinner. Pot roast, potatoes, peas and carrots. Eat if you want.”

It did smell amazing. His stomach growled remembering that all he had was coffee this morning. The living room and kitchen were well lit and warm. He felt at peace in this place. More so than the bunker where it could sometimes feel clinical and cold. “You got a pretty nice place here. You all alone?”

A sly smile played on your lips, “Just me.” You sat the plate down in front of him with a cold beer and a bottle opener. The oven timer dinged and, when you opened the door, the aroma of cinnamon and spice wafted through the air.

“That pie?” He sounded choked up.

“Apple. I have an orchard in the back. Rowena filled me in on how to keep you happy.” You sit it on the windowsill to cool while you ate. “I can’t have you bashing me over the head and running off before we kill this bitch.”

He shoveled a fork full of potatoes and gravy into his mouth humming in appreciation. “Why me? You had Sam here. He’s much better at this witch stuff than I am. Why drag me out here?”

“You’re more reliable when making difficult decisions. You’re what I need. Another beer?” He nodded breathing in the soft floral scent that wafted off of your skin as you moved.

You didn’t offer any further information and Dean thought that was probably for the best. If he got in his head about the situation he would lose his nerve and that can’t happen. That’s how people die. As of late, Sam has had a lot on his mind. Dean would have to shoulder this burden. At least Sammy was getting some rest.

The two of you shared a comfortable silence only marred by silverware hitting ceramic. “Well that was delicious. Thank you….umm…I don’t think I caught your name.”

“I didn’t give it to you. I’m Y/N. But I wouldn’t mind if you kept calling me sweetheart. Pie?”

Dean's heart beat hard in his chest at the thought of calling you sweetheart “Maybe a little. So when do we do this thing?”

“Eat your pie then meet me outside. I have to prepare.” You slipped out the back door down a dimly lit path to your cauldron. You threw in the mandrake and tobacco. Last was the chicken that you had to slaughter. You grabbed a hen from her coop and stabbed her with your athame. It made a terrible sound which sent Dean flying through the back door ready to fight.

“What the hell was that?”

“Chicken.” You allowed the rest of its blood to drain and discarded the carcass. “periisti. lates. Ego te quaero. I vestrum adprehendet vos.” You chanted over and over until a glowing beacon appeared. “We have to follow it.” The orb circled the two of you then floated towards the Impala. You retrieved his keys from your pocket and started off for the car.

“Whoa whoa whoa. What are you doing?”

“Following the orb.” He grabbed your arm as you started to slide into the driver’s seat.

“No one drives my baby but me. You sit shotgun.” He impatiently waited for you to scoot over. When you reached for the radio he slapped your hand away. “Are you serious?!”

“What? There were other decades besides the 70’s.” He bit his lip and flared his nostrils letting out an unsettling growl. “Driver picks the music.”

“You are a child. Just drive. The spell won’t last forever” you huffed.

“So, just you huh? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?” You didn’t answer keeping your eyes trained on the orb. “Yeah me neither. Maybe later we can grab a drink.”

“My god. Can you keep it in your pants until we’re done? It took a left!”

He sped up taking off after it, “I see it. So that’s not a no.” That was all the invitation he needed. The truth was you would have given it up the moment those green eyes stared into your soul.

“It’s not a no. Let’s focus.”

Baby ate up miles of dirt road before reaching the highway. A couple of miles ahead the orb sped for an exit into town. You were led to the motel where the boys were staying. The door to their room was wide open and there Teresa stood bathed in the light of the orb. You bid it a job well done and sent it on its way.

Teresa, caught off guard, quickly muttered a spell pinning Dean to the wall, sending the gun skittering away. You faced each other down while Dean struggled. “She’s a kid!” he groaned in pain.

“I’m nineteen thank you. You don’t have to do this Y/N. Come on. We’re sisters. We share the same DNA. Let’s take them on together.” Tears welled in your eyes. You may have been blood but you weren’t sisters. She grew up far out of the Grand Council’s reach while you were their trained lap dog.

“Only half little sister. You’re hopped up on enough stolen magic to power the entire city. The Grand Council sent me to take you down. Adiuro te in nomine Hecate. Adiuro te in nomine Dianae. Tuae vires cum luna decrescant.” you chanted. She fought back but the binding spell was powerful. She didn’t have enough magic to hold Dean and fight you so she let him go. When he regained composure, he dove for the gun.

Without warning, Teresa gained the upper hand. She held out her arm and used all of her might to pull you towards her. Blood stained tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breath. With every last ounce of strength you had you doubled down on the binding spell long enough to hold her so that Dean could put her down. The blast of the shot filled the small motel room filling your ears with a high pitched whining. You collapsed onto the floor where Dean scooped you into his arms.

“Hey, Y/N. Wake up. Stay with me. Shit.” He carried you to the car and gingerly set you down next to him. The drive back to your house felt long. When he got you inside he placed you on the couch and called Rowena.

“Is it done then?” she asked in her thick Scottish brogue.

“Yeah but your girl’s unconscious. She’s breathing but she used a lot of magic. A lot. I don’t think you’ll be calling on her anytime soon.”

“Keep her warm, Dean. I’ll be there soon.” The line went dead. He sat on the floor in front of you and brushed your hair from your eyes.

“Sweetheart, you need to wake up. We were supposed to grab that drink, remember?” He pressed his lips to your temple lingering there for a moment when he heard Rowena’s laugh trill behind him.

“I should add matchmaker to my long list of talents. Out of the way, Dean. I’ll get your girl fixed right up.” She patted his hand and pushed him aside.

His face flushes hot burning all the way to his ears. ”She’s not my girl.”

“Of course. Now, what seems to be the trouble, dear?” She placed her hands on your head. Her eyes glowed as she spoke over you. Your lashes began to flutter and you woke up. “There she is. Good as new.” You and Dean exchanged a look. “That appears to be my cue to go check on Samuel.”

“Thank you, Rowena.” your voice was hoarse barely above a whisper.

“Not at all, dear.”

Dean pulled you into his lap rocking you gently, “You scared the hell out of me, sweetheart.”

“I had to stop her. She hurt too many people.” You felt guilty for ending her but even guiltier for letting her go as far as she did. Guiltier still for not pushing harder to be in her life. “It was my fault.”

“Hey, no it wasn’t. What? You think you should have been a better big sister? You didn’t lead her down this path, Y/N.” You rested your head on his shoulder “All these years and all the stupid fucked up shit Sam and I did, I blamed myself. I took on that burden. Alone. It’s a lonely awful place to be. I’m begging don’t do that to yourself.” He held your face in his hands forcing you to look at him. He wanted to kiss you. You would have let him if he leaned in. Instead he brought you back down to his chest just to hold you. He saw so much of himself in you. You were headstrong and self righteous but your intentions were altruistic.

You melted into his arms so lost in him that you didn’t hear Sam and Rowena slip out. Dean offered his brother only a small nod to let him know you were ok. He had several texts from Eileen anyway. Happy to see his brother didn’t have to spend another night alone, he went back to the bunker.

You sat in silence for a while when you started yawning. “Shit. What time is it?”

“After midnight. I should get outta here.” You untangled yourself from his grasp but didn’t stand. His hands stayed respectfully at the small of your back. You locked eyes with him. Your core tingled as he brushed errant hair from your forehead.

“Or you could stay. We haven’t had our drink yet. Though, you don’t need to get me drunk, handsome.” You kissed his jaw and down his neck working your way to his collarbone. A soft moan escaped his lips when you nipped at his neck. “I mean you enjoyed me on my knees and all.”

“As pretty as you looked,” his voice was low and gravelly, “And, I mean you looked gorgeous. We really shouldn’t.”

You genuinely pouted your lips backing off of your ministrations, “Why not? I want to. And you clearly want to. You’re a fucking legend, Dean. Show me just how legendary you are.”

He arched a brow at you and smirked in the way that only Dean Winchester does. “Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart.” Finally his lips were on yours. The force of his kiss took your breath away. It wasn’t predatory or greedy. It was slow and sensuous bordering on hunger. His whole body was hungry for you. Dean Winchester was hungry constantly looking for something to fill the hole inside him. For the moment, that was you. He felt like he was floating and was suddenly very warm. If he stopped kissing you he knew he would just stop breathing. He couldn’t bare the thought.

“What are you doing to me?” His chest heaved. “I feel like I’m on fire.” Surely this must be a spell or enchantment. He pulled you back in for more but this time his hands strayed from your back. They traveled to your hips then under the hem of your shirt to feel your flesh warm against him. He had to feel you. To be inside of you. Deft fingers unbuttoned your jeans. Without breaking the kiss he stroked your clothed core working up a rhythm that flooded you with arousal.

“Touch me, Dean. Please” you cried. Pushing your panties aside his fingers explored your dripping pussy. His pace is maddening. Your hips snapped fucking back hard. “Fuck, Dean. So good. I need your cock. Want you to split ne open.”

“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Princess. Come for me and I’ll give you what you want.” And so you gushed around him moaning like a witch on fire. When your heart slowed to a normal rhythm you stripped naked. Before he could get undressed he took a moment to kiss and touch every inch of you. If this was only for tonight he wanted to savor you. “God you’re beautiful.”

“So are you.” You pulled him up and undressed him, never once breaking eye contact. His cock was red and weeping just aching to be touched.

On your knees in front of him you took the whole burning thing in your mouth. To Dean, you were the most stunning creature to exist. You swirled your tongue around the head while you hollowed your cheeks sucking him in deeper still.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Fuck that feels good.” His hands grasped the back of your head keeping you steady while he fucked your face. It started feeling too good like he would blow his load in your mouth. He had to feel your sweet cunt. “Let me feel you, baby. Fuck I need you.” You pulled off with a pop and climed into his lap. Both of you whimpered when you sank onto his length. The stretch was exquisite. Your pussy held him so tight. You ground your clit over his pubic bone while he fucked into you with a brutal pace. “You feel so good. M’not gonna last. Come for me, baby. I need it.” Your twat fluttered around him, milking him for all he was worth. You kissed once more fighting to hang on to the last tendrils of tenderness and warmth that you could.

“Stay. Please. Just for tonight” you whispered.

He tightened his grip on you. “Of course, sweetheart. All night.”

He hated to leave you but the sun rose like a beacon calling him away. If he didn’t leave then, he wouldn’t have ever left. Last time he stuck around and fell in love, he had to learn the hard way that he could never have this. Maybe he would call you the next time he swung through town. Maybe you’d spit in his face for bailing. He brushed the hair off your forehead and kissed your temple. “Bye, sweetheart.”

You woke when you heard the Impala roaring to life in your driveway. He left a square of paper with a phone number scrawled in pencil “I’ll always answer. -DW” You put on your robe, went down to your cauldron and threw it in with a few bundles of sage and some witch hazel to sever any feelings. On the next full moon, you’d do a cord cutting to make sure it sticks.

“See you around, handsome.” In his eleven hour drive back to the bunker, any feelings that you have would slowly fade. The two of you would go back to being too afraid to feel and far too afraid to fall in love. Dean wouldn’t hear from you again. He wouldn’t really remember where you lived. But, every time he drove through Michigan, he’d feel a twinge in his chest. And, no matter how many rituals you did, you’d feel him too.

#sam and dean #dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean winchester smut #Dean Winchester fluff #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x witch reader

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flamencodiva · 4 years

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Wait For Me

Description: Dean and the reader were always an off and on kind of thing. What Happens when Dean realizes he’s too late?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Language, supernatural Violence, Character Death

Word Count: 1506

Beta: none all mistakes are my own

He watched her as her hips swayed to the music. The beat of the music was bouncing off the walls of the nightclub. Although it wasn’t his scene, they had a hunt to complete. It seemed local monsters felt it was perfect to prey on horny, drunk club goers. But here he was with his best friend of over fifteen years. Her hips swayed to the Latin beat, well then again she was latin. Her father had been very good hunting buddies with his. But something changed, he felt a primal need to grind up next to her to keep the men staring at her away. She turned as was surprised to see him as the one grinding on her.

He shivered when he felt her hot breath in his ear, “You don’t dance to this Dean, what are you doing?”

“Making sure that you know I got your back” he shrugged and took a big sip of his beer.

“Dean…” she began, she knew this game.

They had been playing it since they were sixteen. Dean was her first, and she was sure she was his. After the initial shock, they developed friends with benefits that is until Cassie came into the picture. After that, Y/N had kept her distance, even going so far as to leaving Dean alone with Cassie for the duration of his relationship. It was on and off with them, more of a scratch an itch after a hunt kind of relationship.

“Y/N, Let's just enjoy and gank a monster huh?” He continued to drink his beer as Y/N danced with him.

He felt her perfect ass grinding on him every time she turned. It took all of his willpower not to start kissing her neck and take her on the dance floor. They were here on a mission, and he needed to focus. After the third song of the same sensual beat, Y/N tapped his shoulder and pointed towards the back of the club. The Vampire had seduced a girl looking no older than twenty.

“let’s go,” she took his hand in hers and led him towards the back.

They had gotten there in time to behead the bastard and rescue the shaken girl. The alleyway was now empty, the vampires body and head tossed into a dumpster. Y/N, sighed in frustration, she was turned on, and the last thing she needed was to fall back into the arms of Dean Winchester. The last time she fell into bed with him, was after the leviathans were out in the open. Bobby had recently died, and he had contacted her to meet. She hadn’t seen him since he left to be with the Yoga instructor and her son. She had sworn to never be with him, but his eyes and the fact that tequila was her weakness, made things fall into place.

She had snuck out after that ignoring his calls until she saved him from a feral werewolf years later. But that time, she steered him to the local bar skanks and made her exit, telling Sam not to let him contact her again. But here she was, with him again and she couldn’t help take his scent in. Dean growled slightly as he pushed her up against the wall of the club in the alley. His lips crashed into hers, and his tongue explored her mouth. Y/N gasped and moaned at the invasion of his tongue in her mouth.

She pushed her tongue against his battling for domination, her fingers in his hair tugging on it, inciting a sexual grunt from him. The one thing she remembered, he loved having his hair pulled. Her panties were wet with excitement as she hiked up her skirt and pushed her panties aside. There was no time for foreplay; it was going to be quick and dirty. He was already free of his pants as he pushed her up on the wall and entered her. Dean was slamming into her, her walls screaming to fill every inch of him.

“Y/N,” he moaned in her ear, “God I missed your tight pussy.”

“Save the dirty talk Winchester and just fuck me, I have an early hunt tomorrow,” she commanded and pulled him against her.

Dean pushed fast and hard, slamming into her until he could feel her walls clench around him close to her release. He twitched inside of her, his body coming close to ecstasy.

“I’m gonna…” She moaned.

“Cum princess, cum all over my cock.” He told her as her sweet release came, and he filled her with his hot seed.

Dean let her down gently as she adjusted herself. She avoided his gaze, and he had been fighting his feelings for her since he was eighteen. He watched as she grabbed a napkin from her purse and cleaned herself off.

“Y/N,” he muttered.

“Thanks for the help and the stress relief,” she cut him off. “I guess I’ll see you around,” she walked off leaving him alone in the alley.

She gasped as the angel blade penetrated her left side. The demon gave a triumphant smile as he pushed the blade in deep.

“Dean Winchester’s whore,” it sneered, the black eyes peering into hers.

“You’re all talk for a demon,” she plunged her demon blade into the demon's neck.

One of two blades in the world that had been passed down from generation to generation in her family and she was glad Dean had the other. She panted as she removed the angel blade and slumped down against the wall in the building. Her last night on earth and this was how it would end. She hadn’t told anyone where she was, and she figured she would always die this way. She felt the blood pool on her hand gushing out of her wound. She felt the tears pool in her eyes. They say that a person's life flashes before their eyes when they are dying, and she saw it. Green eyes in her life, happy, sad, angry. They haunted her throughout her adventures, and there they were at the end.

She let out a strangled cry and cursed. Her breathing began to slow as her heat began to weaken from the loss of blood. She never noticed the familiar rumble outside and the pounding of heavy footsteps echoing throughout the warehouse. Her vision blurred and she heard the voice it sounded far away.

“Y/N! No, No!” the gentle but callous hands were warm against her cheek, she knew who it was, “Come on sweetheart stay awake.”

“Dean,” she coughed, and the taste of iron filled her mouth. She could feel the some of her blood trickle down the side.

“Shhh, don’t speak princess, we’ve got you,” his voice croaked, “You can’t leave me, there is too much we haven’t said, too much that I should have said” his voice cracked.

She chuckled and coughed, “I love you,” she said it as the tears began to flow, “God… I've loved you since you, and I took each other's virginity, Dean.” She let out a painful moan and strangled cry.

Dean screamed for his brother to hurry with Castiel, but the angel shook his head sadly.

“I’m sorry Dean… We’re too late, Billie isn’t letting me heal her” he said somberly.

“No,” he said in a strangled voice as he sobbed softly. “Y/N, sweetheart fight it, please.”

She shook her head and lifted her hand to his cheek, “It’s ok, It was good to see you again, and we went out with a bang” she chuckled at her joke and coughed up blood.

Dean shook his head not able to say anything as her life slipped away. He held her in his arms and cried. His best friend, his first real love that he was scared to admit was now gone. He had hoped that once this was over, he could find her and marry her, but it wasn’t meant to be. All the time he wasted with Cassie and Lisa, he regretted not being with her. Her body went limp in his arms, and it took Sam and Cas all of their strength to pry him from her body.

Sam carried her to the Impala, letting Dean be with her until they were safe and away from the warehouse. Dean spent his time preparing her body and wrapping it carefully for her funeral. He helped Sam and Cas create the pyre for her body.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sniffed, “I was a coward, I was afraid of what was in front of me, afraid of this spark you gave me,” he whimpered as the tears fell. “Wait for me ok? I will take you on the best date I can think of in Heaven, you just have to wait for me.”

He lit the pyre, the blaze crackling and sizzling over Y/N’s carefully wrapped body. Sam and Cas watched as Dean stood in silence saying his final goodbye.

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har-rison-s · 3 years

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stellars: 20

a/n: welp, we all know what's unavoidably coming. not gonna lie, his death made me really sad. i remember sitting in the theatre with my bestie and her sister, who just happened to be there with us on accident, crying at his death scene, and she hadn't even watched the first movie... it was so sad :( and the music written and played during that scene just crushes my heart every time. winston truly deserved better :/ anyways, happy (sort of) reading!

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warnings: decriptions of the flare virus, character death, mentioned (subtly) suicide

“Those mountains, that’s gotta be it,” Thomas points out, even stretching his arm out before him for effect, “that’s where we’re going.” He says and breathes deeply in and out. The gladers don’t seem to be encouraged by that. Mars glances at Thomas and adjusts the hood of her jumper around her head. She looks back at the mountains.

“That’s a long way off,” Newt says, voicing what everyone else but Mars and Thomas seem to be thinking. The brunette looks at him, denial in his eyes.

“We can make it.” He says. “Let’s keep moving.” Thomas urges and the gladers begin to take steps forward. But Winston suddenly collapses in his effort to follow, dropping from between Teresa and Frypan into the sand below. Everyone calls his name, but he doesn’t seem to be answering. Frypan is at his side immediately, and sees that Winston is heavily sweating and gasping for air, wheezing for it.

The gladers look between themselves. Mars furrows her eyebrows. “We need to find a way to carry him,” she says, “make some… something to carry him in.”

“Like a stretcher?” Newt suggests, and Mars shrugs, then nods. There aren’t many other options. The boys immediately get to work, trying to find anything usable for a stretcher around them. Aris finds metal rods under some layers of sand, which Mars deducts they can use as the sides. She gets to work in tying any available clothes and fabrics between the tube-like objects to create a make-shift bed for Winston. Teresa, Thomas and Newt join in helping her, and they all, like Mars herself, wonder where these survivalist/engineer skills in her seem to come from.

A last abandoned bridge stands between them and the rest of the wasteland that Jansen deemed the Scorch. The gladers are all exhausted from the journey they’ve made this far already, even Thomas’ energy is expendable, but they keep moving, and work in shifts to pull Winston along. It’s already draining to walk just by yourself, but to pull another person along with you is unexplainably tiring. And the sun makes no hurry in setting.

After they’ve crossed the river valley and passed the bridge at that, the gladers find a stone building behind a sand dune, where they’re able to hide from the sun and wind. They lay Winston down on the sandy ground, which he deemed most comfortable, and make camp near him, all under the stone shack. Mars and Newt settle down by the far corner, where the shadow is the longest and most pleasant. Mars takes the backpack and her jacket off, and lays the article of clothing down so she and Newt would have something to sit on.

They sit down with a grunt and sigh out of effort. Their legs feel like rubber. Mars opens her bag to see what they can have for lunch. The same granola bars and canned food that Frypan gave them, nothing more. “One bar each for now,“ Newt suggests. Mars looks at him, then down at their ‘menu’ and sighs. She’s hungrier for much more than one granola bar, but she doesn’t have much of a choice. The time they’ll spend reaching the mountains is unknowable, incalculable, so she knows they must save their resources as much as they can. She reluctantly nods and hands Newt one of the packets, takes another one for herself and then closes the backpack to lessen her temptation for eating more.

Newt notices her mood growing sour, and understands her very well. He’s been in a similar situation before. He wasn’t exactly the first one in the Glade, like Alby was, but there was a point when the Creators hadn’t sent food up to the Glade for a while, and the Gladers had to live on scraps. It was during a period that, Newt suspects, the Creators were figuring out how regularly and how much food they needed to send up in order for the gladers to be eating and living normally. It’s just a guess, but could be true. So he knows what it’s like to live on scraps.

“It’s just for a while,“ he tells Mars, hoping she’ll understand. She looks up at him, her granola bar between her teeth, and nods, looking away at the same time. She prefers not to talk, feeling like all her anger will bubble up and explode at the wrong person if she starts speaking. She also theorises that after eating this small bar she will be in a better mood, too, so she tries to enjoy it and get it down to her stomach to her best abilities. Newt watches her for a while, but looks away, giving her some space. He finishes his granola bar before she does, and crumples the packet between his fingers, stuffing it into his pants’ pocket afterwards. He presses a kiss to Mars’ forehead before rising to his feet and walking towards the other end of the shack.

Mars sighs, but lets herself a smile at Newt’s kind gesture. She knows what he’s trying to say, and she appreciates it very much, even if she is a grumpy gremlin at the moment. She’s just exhausted and hungry. She doesn’t even want to think about walking in the near future, though she knows that this break will be over and they’ll be on their way again soon. She rests her back against one of the stone pillars and closes her eyes, sighing again.

Soon enough she hears footsteps approaching, and she guesses it’s probably Newt again. But when she squints one of her eyes open, she sees it’s Minho. He crouches down next to her. “How’re you doing over here?“ He inquires, a playful smile on his lips. Mars shakes her head. “Thought so.“

“And you?“ She croaks out. Minho shrugs and looks out towards the wasteland of sand behind them both. “How’s Winston?“ He sighs at the question.

“Not well.“ He answers. “Hasn’t eaten anything, or drank his water. Something’s wrong, but I don’t know what.“ He admits and looks back at Mars. She gives him a look of disbelief.

“You and I both know what’s wrong,“ she corrects him, “we just can’t bear saying it out loud.“ She pats Minho’s hand. He considers her words as he looks at her hand, glances up at her again. And he nods, rising to his feet afterwards in silence, his eyes now sad. Mars watches Minho as he leaves, returning to his previous spot on a pile of rocks, and looks over the rest of her friends. She didn’t mean to make Minho sad, but… they should be thinking realistically now, optimism won’t get them far. She knows that, and Minho knows that.

“How’s it lookin’?“ Comes a shout from Newt that, Mars realises, is directed towards Thomas and Teresa. They’re standing almost at the top of the sand dune they all climbed down from. They seem to be talking to each other. Thomas glances over his shoulder at Newt, and sees Mars far behind, too. She gives him a wave.

“Just a little further,“ Thomas calls back, nodding at Newt. Now that’s a pile of klunk, Mars knows now for sure. There’s no way they’ll make it for the mountains today, they’re farther away than that. And they're all exhausted. Newt turns back to face his friends, thinking the same thing Mars is, and sighs.

“That’s not very convincing,“ he deducts and makes his way back to Mars. She keeps watching Thomas and Teresa, suddenly growing suspicious of them both. What is so private that they have to talk to each other alone? Mars feels her anger returning and shakes her head with closed eyes. She has to keep calm, and she definitely can’t hold any form of grudge against any of her friends now. It would be useless, and would only burn her energy more.

Newt doesn’t say anything as he sits across Mars, his legs crossed in front of him and arms locked around his knees. She doesn’t say anything, either, and so they just in silence, bubbling in their own personal turmoil inside rather than outside. They have both nothing and everything to talk about, but they know it’s better to save up their energy and breath for the walk further, rather than spend it on some words that will go nowhere.

A sudden movement, followed by the loud sound of a gunshot, brings them out of their exhaustion break and focuses their attention on their friend group. Frypan yells for Thomas and Teresa to come back down while Mars and Newt are scrambling to their feet to see what’s happened. Upon arriving, Mars squeezes her head in between Minho and Frypan, and sees that Winston is awake, but he’s crying. Frypan has the most terrified look on his face, and Newt notes the gun that’s been thrown into the sand just seconds ago.

“What happened?“ Thomas asks his friends.

“I don’t know, he just... woke up, grabbed the gun and tried to…“ Frypan doesn’t finish the sentence because he certainly doesn’t want to. It’s too gruesome of a thought. Mars thinks Winston might have tried to shoot Frypan, or someone else, but then—

“Give it back,“ the wounded boy pleads.

“Winston, you okay?“ Thomas asks, looking right at the boy in question. Quite a dumb question to ask, Mars thinks. but she looks to Winston. He’s shaking his head.

“It’s growing… inside me,“ he says and lifts up his shirt, no doubt to show his wound. But the sight is much different than his friends would have expected. There’s no visible scratches or blood, not the regular kind, at least. Where light blue veins should have been, dark red ones, so dark they look black, cover the boy’s lower stomach, making the whole wound look like a spider. The gladers pull slightly away, gasping. Mars is one of the closest to Winston, and she sees ribbons in different colors snaking under his skin. They look like venom, and the smell the open wound has is horrible. Very similar to the smell in the abandoned mall. Mars’ eyes brim with tears, “I’m not gonna make it.“ Winston declares with another shake of his head. Mars covers mouth with her hand and turns away. The gladers have all fallen silent. “Please. Please, don’t let me turn into… one of those… things.“ Winston speaks with hiccups in his voice, wheezes in his throat.

Mars dares to look at him again, but the sight saddens her. She understands Winston. But what can they do? They can’t kill their friend, they can’t kill Winston. Newt holds the black gun in his hand, it lays heavy against his muscles, and he moves to sit by Winston’s side. Mars draws in a quiet gasp, thinking Newt’s actually going to do the deed, going to put Winston out of his misery. But instead, the boy gives the gun to Winston, wrapping his trembling fingers around it.

“Thank you,“ Winston manages to tell Newt, “now… get outta here.“ He pleads, and it only makes Mars tear up more. She can’t seem to move, in a bad way hypnotised by what she sees. Her and Winston hadn’t grown to be close friends over the days they’ve known each other, but they still fought for each other, they fought together. They’ve come this far… and now she has to say goodbye to him. She doesn’t think she’s able to.

“Goodbye, Winston,“ Newt tells him quietly, in the voice he can muster up, and it's so hard to, before rising back up to his feet. Mars can see how much it hurts Newt to do this, how it pains him to see his friend like this, for the last time. Newt looks defeated. Mars wants to stay, and she also wants to run away as fast as possible, but she can’t begin to move her feet, or move any muscle in her body at all.

Frypan and Minho say their goodbyes to Winston, and Mars still stands there by Winston’s side. An arm locks around her shoulders, and she knows it’s Newt’s. She draws in a shaking breath and bids her own farewell to the infected boy. “Bye, Winston,” she whispers and sniffles, more tears dripping down her cheeks simultaneously. Newt gives Winston one last wave, as if they were back in the Glade, as if they were just passing each other on their daily routines. And Newt begins to lead Mars away, back on their way towards the mountains.

Passing Thomas, Mars catches the guilty look in his eyes, and the tears that brim them. She can only guess how guilty he feels. Leading his friends out of the Maze, then WICKED catching them again, then leading them out into the Scorch. And where has that gotten them? Winston didn’t even want to leave the Glade at first. Thomas suddenly wishes that Winston never came with him. He wishes he never asked him to come along. It’s all his fault.

“I’m sorry,“ is all that Thomas can offer to the former Slicer, barely able to speak through his tears. It’s the last thing Mars can hear before she’s climbing the sand dune again, with Newt by her side, clutching her close to him. And with her exhaustion, her muscles hurting and her mouth and lungs going dry, her eyes overspilling with tears, and her heart filling with all different types of emotions, Mars can’t go any further. She collapses into the sand, onto her hands and knees, and sobs. She can’t do this anymore.

Newt pinches the bridge of his nose, tears threatening to spill from his own eyes, and sighs deeply, trying to get himself together. He can’t deal with Mars right now, having his own troubles, after losing Winston. But he can help her. “Mars, darling,“ he pleads quietly, placing his hands on her shoulders once again, he tries to raise her up, “get up, please, we have to go.“ She shakes her head at him, and Newt sighs again, deeper this time. He’s so close to bursting out crying himself, but they can’t waste their strength on crying anymore.

Luckily, Minho has noticed they’re not moving forwards, and is coming back towards them to help out. He nods at Newt, communicating to him without words, as close friends do, and they raise Mars up to her feet again, helping each other. Neither of them can carry Mars, not emotionally, not physically. So Newt nods at Minho, thanking him for the help and telling him to go, telling him he can manage from here on out. Newt sighs with closed eyes before bracing himself again. He swings their backpack onto his shoulders and clutches Mars’ frame with one hand while his other one grips her jacket. He knows the sun is very much deadly until it sets, and that they both could use some shielding for their faces, but they have no time for that now. It would only take longer to get her to do something.

So he just begins walking, the trembling Mars by his side and taking steps of her own along with him through the sand, despite that it takes everything in her to just take each step. The wind blows sand into her face, and her tears mix up with the sand, making everything around her eyes itch. Sand flies into her eyes, making them irritated. She groans angrily at them, but keeps walking, all the while doing her best at getting the sand out. She’ll have to hold her hand in front of her eyes from now on, she knows. So she tries.

The gladers make the rest of the journey in silence. Thomas walks at the very end of the group, around eight feet behind Mars and Newt, who both make their way while silently crying, tears spilling down their cheeks, as they can no longer hold them back. Mars feels like she won’t ever stop crying. The pain for Winston, for his life, the fear of the virus and the people infected by it, the pain for all the kids their age left at the WICKED facility so present and strong in her chest that it seems it won’t end for the rest of eternity. She wishes it would all stop. She wishes she wouldn’t feel so much for everyone and everything, just for a while.

Only after a few miles, the sound of a gunshot stops the gladers in their track. They know what’s happened, yet they look between each other in despair. None of them move for the next few moments, they just stand in the silence. Until Thomas starts walking ahead again, and the rest of them follow. That was the sound of Winston ending his own life, Mars acknowledges. It shouldn’t have been like this. It should never have been like this. This is so unfair.

The gladers keep moving towards the mountains until sunset. When it comes, it brings relief to them all. Mars feels like she can breathe just a little easier. Among the wasteland, the group find an old, abandoned ship that has tilted to one side, and they deem it good enough to spend the night at. It provides shelter from the wind and sun. Mars’ theory about a river or sea previously running through this valley was correct, the old ship only proves it.

Frypan and Minho get a fire started while everyone else gathers and makes camp around it in a circle. Mars has been quiet ever since they left Winston, and so has Thomas. Minho, Frypan and Newt have uttered a few words amongst themselves, but the rest have been quiet. Mars even looks to have become sort-of catatonic.

Newt has left her to her own devices for the most part. Frankly, he’s too exhausted and in too much of his own inner turmoil to help her out of hers. He feels a bit bad about it, but he just can’t deal with that much right now. It’s not like it’s hard to take care of her, of course not. Everything is just a bit too overwhelming for them both. A little space from one another won’t hurt.

Mars settles her jacket and scarf against a wall of some sort, and sits with her back against it. Upon yawning and touching her face, she finds hurt parts of skin on her features. They’re hot to the touch and seem to burn when she gently presses her finger against them. Could they be some kind of sun burns? From the deadly sun? She shakes her head, her eyelids dropping once again. Another thing to deal with.

The sun has completely set, leaving the gladers in the dark, apart from the small fire Frypan and Minho have started. They simply sit next to each other, some further away than others. Mars sits the farthest out of them all, but she still makes a gap between Newt and Teresa. She watches his back, sees his every inhale and exhale of breath, how his lungs and rib cage move along with every breath. She sees his blonde hair full of sand. And suddenly she feels guilty about her breakdown, about him having to help her walk earlier. She draws her knees closer to her chest and an absent look fills her eyes. Suddenly she wishes she wouldn’t be here at all. Wouldn’t be such a burden. He’s clearly suffering himself.

“I thought we were supposed to be immune,” Minho dares to utter the first words between them all. There’s truth in what he says. The gladers all believed that they were immune to this virus. That’s what the chancellor lady said. Perhaps it was just another one out of a million lies WICKED has told them.

“Not all of us,” Teresa says and in such a firm manner that it makes Mars suspicious. She sounds like she knows something. Figuring the gladers would have some questions after her response, Teresa quickly adds in a shaking voice, “I guess.” She shrugs her shoulders. Still, Mars’ suspicion doesn’t go away. There’s something Teresa isn’t telling them. No doubt Thomas knows about it, too, whatever it is.

“Well…” Newt crosses his legs in front of him and sighs, “if Winston can get infected, we should assume so can the rest of us.” He states and looks around at his friends. He knows they’re not exactly the words they’d want to hear, but they’re true. Their chances were always slim, and now they’ve seemingly doubled down to almost zero. Mars nods, suddenly feeling much more present and alive than she did in the moments before. Like his words of truth brought her back to Earth.

She never notices, until he speaks up, that Frypan is silently crying. “I never thought I’d say it,” he starts to say, and Mars lifts her eyes to look at him, wondering what could ever come next, and she sees the tear lines streaking the boy’s cheeks, “but I miss the Glade.” He admits and gulps with a heavy feeling in his throat and heart.

Mars nods again, agreeing with it. Everything was, in some ways, so much simpler there. They had rules they lived by, everyone had jobs, everyone had a role to play. Order, routine, goals. And what do they have now? They’re out of control of the completely foreign environment they’re forced to live in. There’s no rules here, except maybe to stay together and stay alive. There’s no order. Do they even have roles to play? And what about their goals? The only goal right now is to get to the Right Arm—if they’re real—and get to them alive.

They were sort-of safe in that small Glade. Up until the Doors didn’t close and Grievers came inside, of course, but… it was a home to them. Now they have no idea where home is, or was, or if there even is one. They don’t know where they belong. And all these questions, all these problems, they didn’t even think of in the Glade. There was no need to. Sure, about the home thing—everyone had had their doubts about it, had their doubts that the Glade was their home. But Sun flares destroying the Earth? A deadly, contagious virus that attacks the brain? People experimenting on them and using them for a supposed cure? None of that had crossed their minds.

So to some level, that amnesia they were put under before entering the Maze, was good. Sometimes not knowing is the best thing a person can do. Just being a little fool saves you from everything, from hurt and confusion. And so Mars wishes she was just that. Maybe she’d be happily getting drained for the cure in the WICKED facility, dreaming about Newt, not having any idea of what’s actually happening to her, and then dying. Unaware of the horrors of the world. But would that be better in any way than fighting for her life out here with her own body and soul?

She wipes her fallen tears and sniffles. She can imagine that the Glade grew to be a real home for the boys. They spent three years inside it, trying to find a way out, and yet they lived there for three years with each other. Together. With their rules and jobs and routines and roles to play. She believes that Frypan misses it, and she knows well why. It’s great being free, but… at what cost?

Mars looks to Thomas and sees how sour his facial expression is. He must feel incredibly guilty about Winston, about Frypan, about everyone and everything. He must think he’s the reason Winston got infected, he must think he’s the reason they’re in this very unhopeful situation now.

But he’s wrong. Mars knows he’s wrong, and wants to tell him so. He’s the reason they’re free. They’re all free from WICKED thanks to him. More of her tears fall as she watches Thomas, storms alive in his skull that are visible in his eyes, now filled with tears, too. She wishes she could find the right words to say to him. To make him feel better, to remind him of what he’s done for all of them, to set his mind straight again.

Thomas rises to his feet and walks away from his friends, everyone looking after his leaving figure. Mars almost jumps to her feet and jogs after him, but something freezes her in place. And Newt is the one who beats her to it, anyway. She guesses he must know how Thomas feels, too, just like she knows. And he’s actually better at words and saying the right thing than she is. He always has a firm, optimistic belief and solution for everything. So she remains seated, watching the fire and glancing at the two boys sitting near-by once in a while. Her closest friends.

Maybe she should finally get to sleep. It seems like days since their first camp outside the abandoned mall, days since Mars last slept. She pulls her jacket and scarf down to the sandy ground, stretches them as far as they go, so less of her body would be laying on the cold, itchy sand, and lays down on them. She pushes her hair behind her ear and keeps her eyes fixated on the fire. Her friends seem to have the same thought as her about sleeping, and soon, more or less, all of them are laying down on their sides or backs and trying to fall asleep. Thomas, the last one to do so, destroys the fire so they wouldn’t be seen during the night, and gets to sleep, too.

A soft knock comes to her door, and Annie immediately rises from her bed, awake in an instant. “Uhh… come in,” she tells whoever it is on the other side, and finds her voice a bit shaky and hoarse. She clears her throat just as the person opens her door and steps through. Quite the odd time of night to be coming into her room, if it’s one of the staff. Her clock on the wall shows that it’s ten minutes past midnight.

But through the door steps a boy, and then another one behind him, and a girl is with them, too. Annie furrows her eyebrows, suddenly scared of them, and suddenly scared of the fact that they are three against her in a closed room. She pulls herself back into the depth of her bed, stretching the covers over her legs. But one of the boys smiles.

“We’re not gonna do you any harm,” he tells her. It’s the one with dark brown hair. The girl seems to have hair of the same color. The other boy has blonde hair. Annie still feels uneasy, “well, hey—my name is Thomas.” He starts and walks over to Annie’s bed. He extends a hand towards her. “What’s yours?”

She gulps, but she can see in the boy’s eyes that he truly means well. He doesn’t have a trace of that pretend kindness the staff do on his face. She gives him her hand and they shake. “I’m Annie.” She tells him and even manages a smile.

“We hope you weren’t doin’ anything important,” the blonde boy says from behind Thomas, and Annie stands up to see him. To see all of them. The blonde boy has something different in the way he pronounces words, and talks in general, “come with us. We’re gonna show you something cool.” The blonde grins, and Annie immediately feels at ease.

She finds that they’re all wearing the same pyjamas - white shirts and blue trousers. Annie is the only one to wear any socks, though, the rest of their feet are bare. She wonders how they’re not cold. But she nods at the blonde boy, and he leads them all outside. Annie pauses at the door, and the three kids look back at her. “Are we…” she starts to ask, but the question dies on her tongue, “won’t we get caught?”

Thomas and the other two look between themselves before shaking their heads. “We’ve been doing this for a while, and they haven’t stopped us yet.” The blonde boy says. “Oh, I’m Newt.” He offers her his hand, too, and she shakes it. “Come on, we don’t have all the time in the world.” He says and closes the door to her room. The door Annie thought was always automatically locked as it closed. Has it been open all this time? Has she had the chance to wander around all these years? “We’ve heard a lot about you, Annie,” the blonde boy says as he leads them three down the hallway, “was a bit of a hustle to figure out where exactly they keep you, but Teresa here is a bit of a genius with all the computers and cameras—“ the dark-haired girl nods at Annie, and she returns the gesture, adding an uneasy smile, “—so we found you. Still, it takes some time off our fun times to come and get you, but I bet you it’s worth it.”

Annie keeps quiet, not really knowing what to say and not wanting to voice all her anxieties about their current situation. She doesn’t want to seem like a party pooper, because these kids are obviously just like her and they’re nice to her, and they’ve promised to take her somewhere fun. She doesn’t want to ruin the fun with all her questions.

The blonde boy leads them into an elevator that takes them down to one of the lowest floors, and then he takes them down a few twists and turns until finally, he stops at a door which has a sign ‘maintenance room’ on it. But it looks old, and the door looks rusty and covered with dust. “Here we go,” Newt says and swings the door open.

The kind of room the door reveals doesn’t surprise Mars in the slightest. An actual old maintenance room, shelves lining the walls, old cleaning equipment scattered here and there. But what surprises her is the room’s inhabitants. Two other boys. They sit on old chairs that face the door, and their faces shine in joy at the sight of Annie and the others. They have the same pyjamas on as Annie does. Newt quickly closes the door behind them, making Annie feel a bit more uneasy again, and they step inside properly.

“What do we have here?” A boy about Newt’s height approaches Annie, the other boy, taller than him, right behind him. But their stances aren’t threatening. “You must be Annie.” He says and shakes her hand. What a weird night, Annie thinks.

“Yeah, how do you know that?” She asks and looks over the whole group of kids, confusion apparent on her face, but, with that, a smile, too.

“Through the grapevine,” the other boy says with a grin on his features, “we’ve heard that you’re the most hopeful subject of us all. Supposed to be taking us to space and what not,” he says and makes the kids chuckle, “I’m Alby.” They shake hands. “This here is Minho.”

Annie feels overwhelmed with all these people, and with all the information they’ve given her so far. She sighs but tries her best to maintain a kind and polite face, tries to smile as true as she can.

“I pictured you looking way different,” Minho admits, and that makes Annie laugh. Genuinely laugh.

“Yeah? How did I look in your head?” She asks and crosses her arms over her chest. The other kids see that she has some kind of attitude, it becomes more apparent with the grin that grows across her face.

“All nerdy and stuff,” Minho answers while he takes his seat back on the chair again, “but you don’t look like an Annie at all.” Annie laughs again and shakes her head. She moves to stand by one of the shelves, resting her back against it.

“Can you tell us about the space mission?” Newt asks, taking a seat on the dirty floor, his face alight with glee and curiosity. Annie looks at him, at first missing his question completely, but then she considers it and looks away, sighing. “Come on, give us something.”

“Where will we be going, which planet?” The boy named Alby asks. Annie still looks with incomplete trust to them all. The staff might be watching them right now, they could hear everything that they’re saying. Annie doesn’t even know if she’s supposed to talk about it to other kids. She honestly didn’t even know she could meet the other kids. She always knew she wasn’t the only one here, but meeting them seemed like an impossible chance.

“Um… Mars.” She says quietly, her leg moving from side to side out of anxiety, as she looks at the ground beneath her. She’s scared she’ll get punished for telling them, punished for hanging out with them at all.

“Hey, don’t worry,” the Thomas boy rests a hand on her shoulder, “you’re okay here with us.”

Annie shrugs. “I’m just scared they’ll punish me,” she admits with a shaky voice, “like they did when I refused to take my made-up name.” She says and anxiously looks around at the others. They know what she’s talking about, and Thomas and Teresa understand her most of all. But they haven’t taken away their part in building the Mazes, so there’s hardly a chance they’ll remove Annie from the space mission. Especially when she had the idea for it, at the bright age of five, and has been its driving force ever since.

“They won’t,” Teresa promises her, “me and Thomas are… sorta special like you. They haven’t done anything yet.” Annie looks at her and nods. Her words comfort her very much, and she takes them to heart.

“You know what,” Minho starts to say, “I think I know what kinda name suits you.” He tells Annie, looking straight into her glassy eyes. She waits for him to speak further, it is apparent in her eyes, and he does. “Mars.”

Annie bursts out laughing. “But that’s a planet!” She protests.

“So?” Minho makes wide eyes. “Annie is a stupid name, no offense—“

“It’s not my real name.” She says, shaking her head. “You can apologise to them all you like.” She tells Minho and raises her finger up towards the ceiling, indicating she’s talking about their higher-ups. That makes everyone in the room laugh.

“I’ll make sure to,” Minho responds, “but anyway, Annie is a stupid name and… well, if they can choose a name for you, then why can’t we?” He shrugs.

“I kinda wish I could choose it myself,” she admits with a heavy sigh, “but Mars is cool.” She tells Minho and grins wide, through her gathered tears. Newt stands up and walks over to her.

“We don’t have anything to toast with like they do in the movies, but,” he clasps a hand on her shoulder tightly, shaking her whole frame and making Annie chuckle lightly, “here’s to Mars.” He says and gives her a smile before looking around at his friends.

“To Mars!”

The following day Mars could only describe as a horror movie. Only one without cranks or people chasing them. One where the biggest antagonist is the sun and its incredible heat. And the wind. And the sand. It’s just exhausted gladers against the deadly elements of nature.

When it feels like they’ve walked a couple of miles already, in reality they’ve walked half of that imaginary distance. Water is running out, there are no signs of shelter anywhere, in the far or near distance. It would be better for them to move during the night, because the sun doesn’t bother them during the night, and they won’t be seen in the dark. But they can’t sleep during the day, because the sun is too bright, and it’d be way too dangerous to lay unconscious in the middle of the Scorch while the sun shines. They’d be too visible, and WICKED would find them in a snap of fingers.

They’re all out of options, except to keep moving. So they try their best to do that. The gladers don’t talk to each other at all, saving their breath, energy and mood. Cause they know that they’re all pretty easily annoyed. Once the water and food will be gone--which they will soon--Mars would not be surprised if any of them began to get angry at each other for that. It would be useless, but unavoidable.

She’s surprised, though, when Thomas makes his way to the back, where she walks, at the very back of the group, a few feet behind Newt, and walks next to her. She looks at him, squinting her eyes in the thankfully dying sunlight, and wonders when he’s gonna speak up. Because it seems pretty obvious that he will.

“You’re the only one I can trust with this,” he begins with a confession, and Mars is glad he’s whispering. She’s sure the others would have heard him if he was speaking in his regular volume of voice, “I think… something’s wrong with Teresa.”

Mars furrows her eyebrows. “Is she infected, too?” She asks and grows scared at the same time, panic rising in her like a hungry predator. Thomas shakes his head. Mars feels a little relieved.

“She told me… she thinks we should go back,” he says.

“What? That’s insane!” Mars immediately protests. But Thomas nods.

“I know, I know,” he says, “just listen. She said they gave her her memories back.” Thomas explains. Mars makes a bewildered face. She got her memories back? Why only her? And why her exactly? What's going on? “She remembers quite a lot more than we do. And there’s… something she’s not telling me.”

“I knew she knew something,” Mars says with a shake of her head.

“How?” Thomas inquires.

“It was in the way she said we’re not all immune,” she responds, “the way her voice sounded. Like she knew it for a fact.” She sighs again. “Did she say anything else?”

Thomas shakes his head. “Nothing useful, really,” he replies, “but, like I said, she’s hiding something from me. And doesn’t want to tell me much.” He sighs. “I think we should be really careful around her, you and me. And… I was wondering if you’d had any new memories.” He admits, and turns his head to momentarily look at Mars.

She looks back at him and then looks back towards where they’re going. Does she have any new memories? Ones that Thomas doesn’t know about? “Well… I had one with Chancellor Paige.” She starts to say. “She was in a room with you, Teresa and some other people. I don’t know who, but Jansen was there, too,” Mars sighs, “she was telling everyone that a mission to go to Mars failed,” once again, the sentence rises amusement in her. Only this time she lets out a dry, airy chuckle, “apparently, I was the head of that operation. So because it failed, my team were… killed, and I was to be sent up into the Maze soon, with everyone else. But… she said something about me having manual memory loss, instead of what everyone else had, I guess,” she sighs, “and Jansen was to be in charge of it.”

Thomas considers her words, and thinks he can remember something like that. A big announcement that made him very sad. But it also gave him something to do, something to think about, someone… Someone to protect.

“I also had another one just last night,” Mars draws him out of his realisation, “the first time I met you. And Newt, and Minho. Alby and Teresa, too.” She looks down at her feet slowly moving across the sand. “How Minho actually gave me the name Mars.” She grins. “I’ll have to tell him that later.”

Thomas nods, though his eyes and mind are absent. “The picture becomes clearer.” He says to Mars, and the words confuse her at first, because they’re just so strange. She turns her head to look at him. “Remember I told you… about that feeling I had towards you?” Thomas seems to ask even quieter, below the volume of a whisper and at first, Mars thinks she’s heard him wrong. But she takes in his words and nods, remembering the first night Thomas was in the Pit. “That memory… could explain that.” He says. She sighs and takes a pause.

“This is a bit… off-topic and potentially useless, but,” Mars squints her eyes and furrows her eyebrows as she looks up at Thomas, “was that—did the feeling—I mean, I saw you looking funny at me and Newt… yesterday. Could that feeling have anything to do with it?”

Thomas’ eyelids flutter in a way that says she’s unmasked him. And he knows she’s seen it, so he has no choice but to nod. “Yeah, sorry,” he says, “I feel stupid about it.” Thomas shakes his head. Mars feels quite awkward, and can only guess Thomas feels the same way. “It just… I don’t know, I’m not trying to excuse it, but the feeling sort of gives me, like, this notion that I’m the one to protect you, you know? But then… it’s Newt.” He articulates his feelings with hand gestures, but then his hands fall by his side again. Mars huffs. She’s glad he’s not jealous in any way, but she doesn’t really know what to tell Thomas in response. They walk in tense silence. “Are you guys… not talking?” Thomas squeaks out to Mars.

She looks ahead at the boy in question. “Yeah, but not in a bad way,” she says with a short sigh, “he needs some space to deal with… stuff, and so do I. Better not to burden each other with ourselves. For a while, at least.” She shrugs. Thomas is saddened by those words. Mars turns to look at Thomas momentarily, and sees the look in his eyes. “Tell me about that feeling more.” She requests.

Thomas gives her weary eyes, but decides to do as he’s requested to. “Well, um… I think that memory is… where the feeling comes from. Like, where it started.” He says. “I felt… that... what WICKED was doing was wrong. Already before then, before that announcement. But with what they decided to do with you that day, I sure knew which side I was on, immediately.”

“And which one is that?” Mars asks him. Thomas looks ahead. He sees the sun setting deeper into the horizon. He feels the slight wind against his face. He feels exhausted, and yet… he is free. Like his friends. Newt did well to remind him last night. He sighs.

“Ours.”

part twenty-one?

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justanobsessedfangirl · 4 years

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Once Bitten, Twice Shy - Chapter 1 - The Maze Runner Newt Fic

Request from Anonymous: Hello!! I was wondering if you could do a Newt (TMR) imagine where the read and Newt have been dating for awhile and a new shebean comes (other than Teresa) and then Newt secretly cheats on the reader with the new shebean but all the other graders know and try to tell the reader but the reader refuses to listen, she later finds out and then it just becomes SUPER deep and sad from there. Please and thank you xx

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Once Bitten, Twice Shy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Author’s Note: Alright, so I got a little carried away and made it a whole fic. Whoopsie. Thanks for reading! :)

Word Count: 3.2k

A drop of sweat trickled down your neck to your spine as you waited for the Box to rise. Newt was to your left, standing tall, staring down at the elevator. He had a hand on the small of your back. It was a little gesture, something he’d done without thinking when you’d walked over to him.

Your lips quirked into a small smile. You took a step closer to Newt, and he responded by gently pulling you to his side. A breeze ruffled his sandy hair and cooled your hot skin. Newt grinned and said, “Promise you won’t fall for the Greenie in there?” His accent played like music over his words.

“Only if you promise, too.”

Newt laughed and squeezed your waist. “I promise.”

You raised your hand, biting back a smirk. “Pinky promise?�� You wagged your pinky in his face.

“Of course, love,” he said, tone bordering between teasing and serious.

The two of you interlocked pinkies. He looked at you, his soft brown eyes making your heart flutter. The Box screeched to a halt in the background.

“I promise,” you said. You pecked his pinky, then pulled away, all smiles. Newt’s attention stayed on you, a goofy, blissful grin on his lips.

“It’s a girl!” someone shouted.

Newt’s gaze shot to the Box.

You turned too. In the Box, standing amongst barrels of water and crates of building supplies, was a girl. As the sunlight hit her, she shrank into a corner, wrapping her arms around herself. Her long auburn hair was draped around her shoulders like a shawl, visible even in the shadows.

No one said anything for a moment, just let the bugs sing in their trees, let the wind blow, let the Box creak. Then Newt approached the edge. “Welcome to the Glade,” he said.

The girl’s head swiveled from side to side as she took in all of the people surrounding the Box.

“Everyone, back up!” Newt called.

There was a shuffling of footsteps, but the boys hardly moved. They wanted to see her.

You felt your back stiffen. You could remember being in her position. You could remember waking up with no memories, not even of your name, and being surrounded by strangers. Male strangers.

You joined Newt at the edge, letting the girl see you, assess you, before you jumped down into the Box. She immediately cringed away, her back pressed to the wall. You raised your hands.

“Welcome to the Glade,” you said, repeating Newt’s words. “I’m Y/N. Do you remember your name?”

She looked at you with large, scared green eyes. Freckles danced across her cheeks. She shook her head.

“That’s okay. Most of us didn’t when we got here. Let’s get out and then we can explain.” You tried to keep your tone light and helpful, side-stepping the inevitable questions for a few moments.

The girl nodded. She cleared her throat. “Okay.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it didn’t waver.

Nodding, you walked with her to the side of the Box. You helped boost her up at the wall. Above, Newt and another boy grabbed her arms and pulled her over the edge. Gally reached a hand down for you.

Newt was already introducing himself when you got out. The girl’s eyes darted from his face to the other boys to the walls. She had her arms wrapped around herself again, maybe hoping that if she squeezed herself tight enough, she’d wake up and find that all of this was a dream.

You went to Newt’s side.

“Y/N and I will give you the tour.” Newt looked to you for confirmation.

You nodded. You gave the girl a small, friendly smile. “We’ll show you the gardens first. They’re a lot calmer than this.” Around you, the boys had begun talking, jostling, laughing. Each yell made the girl flinch.

The three of you began walking, you and Newt on either side of the girl, but not before Newt grabbed a boy and told him to tell Alby about the new Greenie.

“Who’s Alby?” the girl asked. “What’s a Greenie?” She was speaking louder now, almost at a normal level, as you all left the crowd behind.

“Alby’s the leader of the Glade,” Newt said.

“You’re not the leader?” she asked. “I would’ve thought...” she trailed off. “I don’t know.”

A small, almost embarrassed smile tugged at Newt’s lips.

You laughed. “I thought that too when I first got here. He’s second-in-command.” Your eyes traced over Newt, studying your boyfriend. It had to be the way he carried himself. Even walking with a limp, he seemed like someone who knew what he was doing and who would help people who couldn’t figure it out. Your heart swelled, a mixture of happiness, pride, and love fueling it.

The Greenie nodded, and you saw she was also staring at Newt. He looked up and they met eyes.

“What was your other question?”

At the sound of your voice, the girl’s attention turned to you.

“You wanted to know what a Greenie is, right?” you asked. She nodded. “Well. It’s you. You’re a Greenie. You’re the new kid.”

She mulled that over for a few seconds. “I don’t think I like that too much.”

Newt laughed. “You’re gonna have to get used to it until someone else comes up, Greenie.”

“At least, until you remember your name.” You stopped as you said that, standing at the edge of the garden. A few boys milled among the rows of vegetables, pulling up a weed here, harvesting a tomato there. The air was heavy with heat. It felt like a warm blanket wrapped around your shoulders. You wanted to snuggle into it and smell the fresh dirt around you.

The girl made a noise. A surprised cough, or maybe a strangled yelp. Then, under her breath, she whispered something.

“What was that, love?” Newt asked, leaning toward her.

“Margaret,” she repeated. She said it again, “Margaret.” Lifting her head, meeting the plants with a steady stare, she said, “That’s my name.”

You smiled and tried to meet Newt’s eyes. He wore a broad grin. He stared at Margaret.

The next few days were a busy blur. You and Minho had a few close calls in the Maze, getting back with less time than you were comfortable with before the doors closed. And, even if the running was hard and the Maze was the same, you’d have to go back and map it all out, and see that it was a repeat from a previous day in the Maze, and put the map with all of the others, and then finally get some food and get some sleep and hope that tomorrow would be better.

It wouldn’t be as bad if Newt wasn’t also busy. He’d come to your room late. The two of you would fall asleep, tangled in each other’s arms and legs. And then you’d have to leave early the next morning, with only a sleepy “Love you” to fuel your day.

Standing outside the Maze, waiting for the doors to open, Minho by your side, you wondered aloud if being a Runner was worth it.

Minho scoffed, bouncing on his toes. Nervous energy radiated from his body, subconsciously setting you on edge. The wall was beginning to rumble. “Of course it’s worth it.” He slipped through the crack, setting off at an easy pace. You followed. “We’re, like, the coolest people in here.” He sounded distracted.

“With competition like ‘Captain Gally,’“ you said, using air quotes, “that’s not too hard.”

Minho’s loud laugh filled the early morning air.

“It wasn’t that funny, Min,” you said when he still hadn’t stopped.

He cut his laugh off abruptly, sneaking a glance at you out of the corner of his eye. “Sorry.”

You peered closely at him. His gait, normally smooth and confident, was a little different. Awkward. Uncertain.

You decided not to push it. Not this early. Not when all you could think about was the day ending and finally getting to be close to Newt again.

Minho cleared his throat as you two turned left. It was like he’d read your mind when he asked, “So, how are things going with Newt?”

“Good.” You couldn’t bite back your smile.

“Yeah?” There it was again! There was something fake in his tone, something falsely cheerful.

“Yeah,” you stated. Your smile slipped into a frown. “Why?”

Minho began slowing as you approached the intersection where the two of you would split up. “Well...it’s just. I mean, I’ve been hearing some things...Don’t you think he’s spending a lot of time with Margaret?”

“He’s showing her around,” you said stiffly. Newt had spent a lot of time with you when you’d first arrived. It was normal. “She hasn’t stuck with a job yet. It’s his responsibility to help her.” The words coming out of your mouth were Newt’s, the ones he’d told you a few nights ago as you lay next to each other, muttering details about your days as you drifted off.

Minho was nearly at a walk. The intersection was straight ahead. “Y/N. I’ve just...I’ve heard.” He paused to take a deep breath.

Coldness flooded your chest. You could hear your heart beating in your ears. Icy fingers of dread began clawing at your lungs, restricting them, squeezing them, making it hard to breathe. You sped up.

“I think he’s cheating on you, Y/N.”

You sprinted to the right. “I’ll see you at the doors, Minho.” You didn’t turn around as you yelled. You didn’t look to the sides at the ivy-covered walls. You didn’t look at the ground. You stared straight ahead and you did your job and you ignored the little part of you that thought maybe there was some truth to what Minho had said.

There couldn’t be.

You shut the idea down with each footstep, each pounding footfall that propelled you farther and farther. In your mind, you could see Newt standing at the edge of the Box, the sun shining behind him, on the day you’d arrived. His lean figure had screamed authority. Safety.

And yet, you’d run that day. You’d run from the Box and from the boys and from the fear. Minho had been the one to tackle you to the ground. He’d pinned you there until Newt caught up. Newt had explained the very basics of the Glade while your body was flat against the ground, and, after a few minutes, he’d offered his hand to pull you up and you’d accepted.

You could still remember how your panicked mind had settled, just a little, as your hands briefly locked together like lost puzzles pieces.

Newt had been the first one to make you smile in the Glade. You couldn’t even remember what he’d said, exactly, only that he was giving you the tour and he’d made a dumb joke, stumbling over his words and looking at you earnestly, hoping you hadn’t noticed. You did, and that’s what had made the joke funny. Not funny enough to get a full laugh, not when you’d just found out that you were the only girl trapped in an enclosed area with a group of strange boys. But enough for you to exhale a little more air through your nose and crack the smallest of smiles.

Newt was the one you’d gone to when you realized you were meant to be a Runner. You’d bounced between jobs, spending a few days feeding animals as a Slicer, bustling around the kitchen with Frypan as a Cook, and annoying Clint and Jeff in the Med-jack tent. You’d liked your time as a Builder, with the physical labor and the sun on your skin. Those were the same reasons you’d liked working as a Track-hoe, with the added bonus of spending more time with Newt. But something was missing in each job. You craved adventure, excitement, freedom.

Newt hadn’t wanted you to do it. That was the first time you’d seen him angry. And afraid.

But Newt was still the one who’d convinced Minho to give you a shot after the two of you had had a deep conversation that bled from night into morning. You hadn’t just talked about the Maze. You’d talked about your hopes and your fears and your passions and your feelings. And, as the sun broke over the hammock you both lay in, you’d kissed.

Newt was the one you poured your heart out to. Newt was the one. He was always by your side.

You picked up the pace as your heart cracked against your ribs, reminding you with its steady beat Not - right - now. He’s - not - right - now.

Right now, back in the Glade, he was probably with Margaret.

You rounded a corner, going too fast, almost sliding on the stone floor.

They were probably in the garden.

A tangle of ivy caught on your arm and you ripped it off the wall as you sped past.

He was probably helping her weed the plants. You wondered if his hands were on hers, his hands that were supposed to be on you. You wondered if she liked his brown eyes as much as you did. You wondered if he was looking at her like he looked at you. Like he used to look at you.

You wouldn’t cry in the Maze.

You wouldn’t cry.

Because it wasn’t true.

Later that day, a map of your section of the Maze imprinted in your brain, you reached the doors with plenty of time to spare. You didn’t think you’d ever run at such a fast pace for so long. The only way to turn off your mind had been to go faster, to outrun every thought you had. You didn’t want to stop.

So you didn’t. You ran past the doors, where you were supposed to meet Minho, and headed directly for the Runner’s Hut. You heard Minho call your name as he emerged from the Maze. He trailed after you. You were already sitting down and drawing your section when he entered the hut.

“Y/N-”

“Can’t talk right now, Minho. I don’t want to forget anything.” You didn’t look at him. You were perched on the edge of your chair, ready to take flight as soon as you finished. Underneath the table, your legs were shaking. Sweat dried on your legs and your hands felt clammy.

You could feel Minho’s eyes on you. The silence in the hut was stifling. Pen flew over paper as you sketched a dead end.

You heard Minho clear his throat and you had just enough time to squeeze your eyes shut before he said, “I know it’s hard to hear, but it’s the truth, Y/N.”

You hated how his voice sounded, devoid of the teasing, playful lilt that was always present. It was always there, and now that it wasn’t, your heart was beating too fast and your palms were sweating and you finally managed to finish your drawing. You shot up, avoiding looking at Minho.

“I’ve gotta go,” you muttered.

You were trying to skirt around him to get to the door when he put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said softly.

Something inside you snapped, and a wave of anger rushed through your limbs, a roaring fire inside your muscles that wanted you to push him away and sprint back into the Maze, where you could run and no one could find you.

Barely tempering your rage, you pulled away from Minho. “You don’t know anything!” you snarled. “Stop lying to me!”

A flash of hurt lit up Minho’s eyes. He was frowning, and his lips parted to say something, but you beat him to it.

“Newt would never do that. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but if you say anything like that again, I’ll-” You cut yourself off. You’d what? You’d kick his ass? You’d leave him in the Maze? You’d tattle? “Just--Just leave me alone.” You spun around before he saw your eyes get wet with heavy tears.

You wouldn’t cry in the Glade.

You wouldn’t cry.

Because it still wasn’t true.

By the time you reached the kitchen, your eyes were completely dry and you’d managed to plaster a fake smile on your face. Gladers passed you, some holding dinner, others merely chatting, and you exchanged pleasantries.

“Hey, Y/N, hot day in the Maze today?”

"Y/N, have you seen Newt? Or Clint?”

“Y/N, if you ever wanna help out as a Builder, we could use you.”

“Here, Y/N, have a sandwich.”

You didn’t really care what anyone had to say except for that last person.

You smiled at Frypan and accepted the plate. “Thanks. I’ve been looking forward to this for the past two hours.” You paused in front of him. “Have you seen Newt?”

The smile on his face faltered. Frypan shook his head. “No...Have you talked to Minho?”

You recoiled. What did he know? You saw Minho walking closer, stopping to talk to a group of boys, all of them looking over at you. Did everyone know? Even Chuck, who stared up at Minho like he was some kind of hero?

You felt eyes all over your skin. They were piercing. They were pitiful. They were wrong. You shoved the plate back into Frypan’s hands and turned around without another word. You took a wide arc around Minho’s group, giving all of them a hard glare when it looked like they might try to stop you.

Rage and insecurity coiled in your stomach. If Newt was more than enough for you, weren’t you also more than enough for him? Why did everyone think he’d leave you so easily? You’d hardly seen him the past few days, but that didn’t erase the weeks spent by each other’s sides. That didn’t erase the first time he’d looked in your eyes and said, “I love you,” and then kissed you like his life depended on it.

Your mind whirled, so you gave up trying to pick a destination to walk to and just let your feet go. They carried you over rocks and roots and into the woods, and they stopped to let you know that it was time to sit on the log in front of you. You complied. In the dwindling daylight, you stared at your knees and tried to breathe.

Minutes passed. Your thoughts melted away. Birds tweeted in the trees, the last calls of the day. Fireflies began to light up around you.

You needed answers. You needed to talk to Newt. With renewed purpose, you rose, ready to look through every poorly-made building in the Glade until you found him.

A stick cracked to your left. It was hard to see in the dark, especially with the leaves overhead and the thick tree trunks around you, but there was a flash of color among the blackness.

You crept closer. Your muscles tensed, ready to leap into fight or flight mode, depending on what was in the woods with you. Leaning around a tree, you saw red.

Red hair.

Margaret.

And pressed against her body, holding her close, so close, too close, far too close, was Newt. And their lips were together and their bodies moved in rhythm and you gasped and they turned to look at you and your instincts went into overdrive and you ran away to the sound of Newt’s voice calling out for you.

You wouldn’t cry in the woods.

But you were crying.

Because it was true.

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mewnia · 2 years

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Finished some major illustrations depicting my world for Voice Carries the Music! Four sacred sites, four sketches created by Asher along his journey, and then the map that Asher uses. It was fun!

#Voice Carries the Music #VCtM #illustration #world building #mewnia's pawprints #Cassindra (Voice Carries the Music)#Wian (Voice Carries the Music)#Teresa (Voice Carries the Music)#Attituq (Voice Carries the Music)

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myelocin · 4 years

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home is along the sky, because you are the sun

synopsis: “if i ask you the question about what you wanna ask from life and how you’ll feel if you let go, how would you answer?”

characters: hirugami sachiro, you, hanamaki takahiro

genre/warnings: fluff, domestic!au, poly(?) relationship [or friendship idk it really depends on how u], baker!makki, aspiringphilosopher!sachiro, just fluff rlly

wc: 2,400+

a/n: wow, how where do i even go from here. this is for you, @strawbericream, the person who created a safe space for me to find home in even before i started this blog (also the inspiration why i started this blog in the first place). all my love and good wishes for you & the path you take. continue to see the beautiful parts in life, teresa :)

Hirugami Sachiro asks you to watch the stars with him one day and the story begins like that.

“Do you even know anything about the constellations?” you ask, leaning back and watching the midnight blue unfold. From your peripheral vision, you see him shake his head. He was probably smiling at your question too. You don’t turn your head to confirm; it’s safe to say you know him well enough to be certain of that.

“I don’t,” he replies, traces of mirth swaying in the tone as he cranes his head to face you. “I just like to watch when the world is still and pretty.”

“Poetic,” you comment, then later chuckle when he knocks his shoulder against yours. Sachiro had a habit to be soft in both his actions and words—something you adored, you decided.

“I try to be,” he admits with a sigh, hands raised in mock surrender. He sounds a little dreamy, you think; fitting for someone like him.

Despite the occasional sound of the cars zooming past your building in the streets below coupled with the constant buzzing of your phone against the plastic Tupperware next to you, the moment you stayed in silence with him felt almost dream like. The good kind, too.

Because at 23:11 in an open rooftop of the apartment complex you’ve been living in, you stare up and render yourself speechless when the milky way above you begins to dance in the sky.

Slow swirls, twinkling stars, and wisps of something you don’t know but think is beautiful anyway. It’s much like life and the world, you suppose. Just filled with moments of things that pass your eye every day, but only truly see its beauty when you clear your mind and just look.

You look at Sachiro beside you, looking like he’s within the clouds and smile.

“What do you think about when you see the world?” you ask him.

“I just try to observe and not really think,” he replies, and you nod because he says it in a tone that makes sense.

There are too many hours within the day where all that consumes your thoughts are questions of whether you’re taking two steps forward or four steps back. In a sense, Sachiro’s words hold a semblance of truth to them because sometimes what you really need to do is just look at the world as you allow it to just be.

Where you don’t question why the sun rises, sets, or moves with a pattern in the sky every day. Why the moon is the reason for the push and pull of the waves that also happened to be the representation of the desire to be “free”.

Of what makes the blood in the veins flow and represent life even if the sight of it could also mean the loss of life.

In the irony of things, your thoughts spiral after Sachiro beside you tells you to do the exact opposite of that.

So you look up.

The stars above look like splattered dots as some merely blink, while others twinkle. You can’t decide which one you prefer; they all connect to you in a way. And as you keep staring, you come to realize that the night isn’t pitch black, but rather a dull gray—because when the clouds of a deeper hue roll in sight, their colors are vibrant.

The wind says hello and you shiver in time with the ruffle of Sachiro’s hair. It looks soft, you muse. You know it’ll feel like it too.

“If I ask you the question about what you wanna ask from life and how you’ll feel if you let go, how would you answer?” he asks, turning to face you.

You look at him, taking note of the expression on his face that sort of borders the edge between teasing and genuine curiosity and sigh—pondering about his question.

Life is well, too unpredictable to ever commit your heart a hundred percent to one stationary thing and expect life to deliver it. Even though there are some things you want, at the same time, asking life to deliver the specifics would be like trying to balance on water.

And as for letting go, well, you turn your face away from him and look up into the sky again. At the clouds looking like heavy cotton on a blank canvas. You can still feel Sachiro’s stare at your profile when you exhale and sigh, “I don’t think there’s answer; just live life and let the current flow I guess.”

He smiles; Sachiro knows you got his message.

“It’s gonna rain,” you comment, breaking the silence again as the wind picks up and the blinking stars hide behind the clouds aching to weep,

Beside you, Sachiro hums.

“We’re not gonna get up are we?” you add with a laugh, realizing his intention.

He laughs, eyes meeting yours in the middle when you crane your neck and do the same. Even under the dim lights, you could still make out the hue of a soft walnut.

The color of warmth—promising. And it was fitting, because you always found that Sachiro’s words were rather nurturing.

“Why don’t we just let the world be,” is what he says as the two of you lack back down and face the sky, basking in the world and letting the current be, as the raindrops begin to fall.

You consider Hanamaki Takahiro as the being that’s heaven sent because two days after letting the world “be” and laying in the pavement, drenched in the rain with Sachiro, you’re at home with your head held in between your hands and a sniffle to remind you of the cold you’re braving through.

“On a scale of one to ten how much do you regret laying in the rain and pretending to be in a music video for fun?” Takahiro laughs as he plops down on the seat next to you.

Sniffling, you roll your eyes and grab the mug he held out to you.

The mug in your hands felt warm, and when you inhaled you smiled—Takahiro was quiet in many ways about his affections, always preferring to mix his comments into bouts of humor, but he was always the one to remember the little things.

You recall that you’ve only mentioned your favorite kind of tea once as a passing comment when you were at a grocery store together some years ago, but every time you’re at his apartment, you always smile when you see the familiar packet tucked into the corner of the pantry next to the mug he knows you like the best.

“What were you even talking about?” he asks again, shuffling closer to pull the blanket closer around your frame.

“He said some poetic shit again and I got carried away, so look at what happened,” you pout as Takahiro’s own expression lights up in mirth in front of you.

“Did you learn something, though?”

“I always do,” you answer him with a soft sigh, bringing the mug closer to your lips.

“So am I the dumb friend that only gives you tea while Sachiro’s the one that gives you life changing advice?” Takahiro huffs, expression one of mock offense as he leans against the seat.

Smiling, you close the gap in between the two of you as you sit next to him and drop your head on his shoulder.

“No, you’re the one that always grounds me back to earth and make me feel like the ugly world is okay,” you confess, craning your head up and pressing a kiss on his jaw.

Takahiro hums, stretches one hand over your shoulder as he brings you closer to him while his head drops on top of yours.

“Warm,” you murmur, your mug of tea set on the table but hands still warm against Takahiro’s palm.

“You’re leaving soon, aren’t you? How do you feel?” he whispers, his hand rubbing your shoulders and chest rising and falling in time with his breaths. You can still taste the lingering flavor of the tea on your lips, and the low rumble of Takahiro talking about nothings in the room vibrates your cheek pressed against his chest.

“I feel warm,” you murmur again, then smile when his other arm comes around and secures you in a solid embrace. He smells faintly like pine; and for a second you slip into the thought that it’s winter outside, and you’re under your covers while the world outside swirls with the current.

“Of course you do,” Takahiro laughs, then presses his face against the crown of your hair.

You fall in to slumber with the thought of home the only thing in your mind.

When you wake up, you’re in bed facing the window. You’re left feeling a little groggy for a few moments as you sit up and rub your eyes, thoughts a haze as you gradually allow reality to trickle in your senses.

The blinds are shut and the blankets pooling in your lap still feels warm. Warm like sleep.

Like the mug of tea cradled between your hands earlier.

Warm like Takahiro’s chest as the scent of pine and spring lulled you to sleep of what you could guess to be just hours ago.

It’s already 12:03 am, you realize when you open the door and take slow steps into the hallway, your slippers making light noises over the wooden floor. Blinking away the lingering remnants of sleep, you peer into the hallway, faded light trickling from the kitchen into the area where the hallway opened into the living room.

Then, when the haze in your thoughts clear, you blink and scrunch your nose when you realize the room smells faintly like strawberries. Bunching up your blanket and draping it over the back of the couch next to you, you walk towards the kitchen in curiosity.

The room around you feels warm; like the kind of warm that lingers in the room when you’ve been cooking all day.

“There she is,” you hear a voice to call as you round the corner and enter the room. It’s Sachiro, you notice. He’s leaning against the counter to your far left as Takahiro next to him stands with a bowl of something whipped balanced in his hand. You have half the mind to ask you why they’re at your apartment instead of at home, but you suppose that because their presence is always welcome, at the moment you don’t really seem to mind.

“Morning,” Takahiro greets as he turns his head to look at you.

“It’s midnight,” you comment as you take a seat in the table on the side that faces the two of them.

“It’s also your birthday,” Sachiro laughs as he carries the rack of what you assumed to be cooling layers of cake and takes the seat opposite to yours.

You scrunch up your nose and fold your arms over one another as you lay your head and face him. He smiles, in the way that’s gentle and patient before reaching over and booping the tip of your nose.

“You forgot about it didn’t you?” Takahiro adds with a laugh as walks over and takes a seat in the side between the two of you.

“It’s still night in my book, so I’ll feel like it’s my birthday when we hit tomorrow,” you yawn, feeling your eyelids grow a little heavy. “Why are you two baking a cake?”

“Because we know your schedule’s only gonna pile up from now,” Sachiro says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“And because it’s your birthday,” Takahiro points out, scooping a dollop of the cream into the first half of the cake.

At the sight, you perk up and scoop a little of the excess on the side of the bowl, plopping it into your mouth. You brighten up, smiling as you recognize the taste.

“Strawberry cream?” you grin at Takahiro.

“It’s your favorite isn’t it?” he asks, despite already knowing the answer.

“Happy birthday,” Sachiro greets in a sing-songey voice, leaning his body forward and grabbing your hands in his. He stares at you, smiling eyes and all as the warmth in his voice ricochets in the quiet room.

“You excited to start this new arc?” Takahiro asks, taking a break and facing you with his head propped up by the palms of his hand.

“I am,” you reply softly.

“Issei, Tooru, and Hajime texted early saying congratulations,” he adds and you beam at the mental image of them. They always did bring you smiles, you realize.

“We’re proud of you,” Sachiro says, squeezing your hands.

You smile, thinking back to his question that night. Of what you wanted to ask of life, and you realize that instead of asking it for something you want to say thank you instead. For the good parts, good memories—lasting memories and connections you’ve made.

In reality, the current you’re on still flows without assurance towards any direction, but for now, you realize—in this room, in this moment, the waters are nothing but calm.

You hear Takahiro scoop another dollop of the strawberry cream into the second layer of the cake as you listen to Sachiro pose another question where you know would let your thoughts drift into unknown waters again.

But in the moment, because you’re home, you smile and tell life thank you.

Takahiro and Sachiro look at you as you stare at them, a dreamy look in your eye that only tells them you’re drifting somewhere good.

The two share a look and laugh softly.

It’s a little past 12:40 in the morning when the streetlight visible down the street from your apartment window flickers like it’s going to go out anytime soon, and Takahiro’s finished crumb coating the cake, that the three of you finally snap back to the present and share a smile towards each other.

Your schedule with the unmarked checkboxes lay next to your laptop at your desk while the plans for tomorrow piece themselves together at the back of your head. Wherever the current takes me, you think.

“Thank you,” Takahiro says, and beside him Sachiro’s smile mirrors his.

“For?” you laugh.

“Just cause,” Sachiro laughs and intertwines your hands with his once more.

When you smile at them, they catch themselves a little blinded.

They’ve always thought that you’ve belonged with the sun.

Thank you for the stories and smiles, Teresa. Here’s our wishes to your future! May you always always tread in the beautiful parts of life. <3

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the-shadow-of-atlantis · 3 years

Text

Meeting Family

Tagging: @melyaliz @sea-quinn @lizartgurl @speedypan @coffee-randomness @uncpanda

Read Earlier Parts Here

A/N Nick and Debbie mentioned at the end belong to @melyaliz

"What are you thinking about kitten?" Selina asked as she carefully brushed the little girl's hair.

Annabella had a little frown on her face that matched her father's when he was deep in thought. Her little brown eyes met Selina's in the mirror.

"What's a grandma?" Annabella asked.

"Well a grandma is what you call the person who's the mommy of your mommy or daddy." Selina said simply as she began to grab strands of Annabella's hair.

"But… daddy doesn’t have a mommy anymore. And you're not my mommy. So how can I have a grandma if I don't have a mommy?”

Selina's heart ached for the little girl, again she found herself thinking about whisking her away. But Bruce was stubborn; they had to stay in Gotham. According to him it was the best option.

"You do have a mommy kitten, she's just not here." Selina sighed, this was a conversation she needed to have with Bruce not her.

"Why can't you be my mommy?" Annabella asked, her voice coming out so soft Selina almost wasn't sure if she heard her right.

How do you explain to someone so young that you just weren't ready for that title no matter how much you loved them? How do you tell someone that even though they love their father so much the commitment scared you? Alfred cleared his throat making Selina jump slightly. She quickly secured the braid she was working on with a hair tie.

"Mrs. McNider has arrived." Alfred announced.

"She's not used to strangers." Bruce said as he approached the manor. "In fact she's pretty protective of any one she's grown up with. So if she doesn't approach you immediately don't take it personally. She has a pretty set schedule though it got a bit disturbed after the… incident. If I’m being she hasn't really been sleeping in her room lately though that was already a slight issue before what happened. I've already added more security measures because once the paparazzi catch wind of who you are it's only a matter of time before she realizes.”

"I see you haven't changed Bruce." Teresa chuckled as they reached the door. "Let's just take this one step at a time."

Bruce made a face as if he did not like that plan and Teresa couldn't help but smile. The doors opened then and Alfred stood in the entryway.

"Ah Mrs. McNider, I hope you had a pleasant flight." Alfred greeted.

"It was wonderful Alfred." Teresa smiled as she stepped inside. "Now where is my granddaughter?"

"Hiding." Said Selina, she stood in the middle of the entrance and just behind her clutching her leg was Annabella.

Her little face peered over the side of Selina's leg and Teresa couldn't help but gasp. Deep down she must've been expecting the features of her daughter. Despite the pictures she had received she thought maybe her eyes would hold the coldness her daughter carried. Instead Annabella's soft brown eyes studied her with such intense curiosity they seemed to bore deep into Teresa's soul. No, not the eyes of her daughter, they were the eyes of her lost son.

"So you're a grandma?" Annabella asked, stepping away from Selina.

"Yes, I'm your grandma. Though if you don't mind I would prefer the word abuelita." Teresa smiled as she bent down to be at eye level with her.

"Abuelita." Annabella tested the word out. "Why?"

"Because that's the spanish word for grandmother." Teresa explained.

"Tú hablas español?" Annabella asked, excitement lighting up her eyes.

"Sí." Teresa chuckled.

"Ms. Wayne, why don't we show your abuelita where she will be staying." Alfred suggested.

"Okay." Annabella beamed, taking her grandmother's hand and leading her through the manor.

By the end of the day Annabella decided that grandmother's are the best. Hers especially, Teresa did not mind answering all of Annabella's questions. And Annabella was convinced that her grandmother's handbag was magic since she always seemed to have just the right thing to use throughout the day.

As soon as Annabella's head hit the pillow she was out like a light. The adults all stood around as they watched her sleep.

"This is the first time she's fallen asleep so fast." Selina whispered.

"She'll be up soon enough." Bruce frowned as he felt his phone buzz. "I have to go into the office."

"I guess I should go home too then." Selina sighed, she turned and gave Bruce a peck on the cheek.

Teresa watched as Selina quickly and quietly walked into Annabella's room and gave the little girl a soft kiss on her forehead. With that she went out and Alfred escorted her out to her car.

"She wants to run, you know." Teresa said, focusing on Annabella now.

"I know she told me." Bruce said, wondering how she could have known that.

"But she's still contemplating it. Unless you tell her the truth, there's a chance she will stay. She needs to know why you're so driven to stay here."

"It's better for Annabella."

"Is it? Or is it better for you?"

"What do you see?" Bruce sighed.

"She will suffer one way or another even if you leave. How I'm not quite sure, but she'll pull through, she's strong. She'll be even stronger if she has more people supporting her, she needs more family and more friends."

"We're all she has."

"Now Bruce we both know that's not true."

Bruce simply frowned at that knowing that. Okay so maybe there was other family but he couldn't risk bringing them into their lives.

"Go, I'll watch over her. Make sure she stays in bed." Teresa urged as she lightly guided him away from the little girls room.

The week got better for Annabella and by the end of it she had her grandmother wrapped around her finger. For all her meals Annabella was allowed to help her grandmother prepare the food. Well she was allowed to pour things into the pots and pans at least but the kitchen was filled with music and laughter.

Though Annabella had considerably warmed up to Teresa every time they went out to the park or just to tour Gotham Teresa did notice the little seemed to cling to her. For good reason strangers were still scary for Annabella. Still they needed to work on her people skills.

In the evenings they would relax with some tv while Teresa worked on a craft. Annabella loved to ask hundreds of questions on whatever her grandmother was working on. She was even given little tasks like sorting the yarn for hitting or organizing the strips of fabric for a quilt.

By the time it was bedtime Annabella she went to sleep with ease. Bruce had to admit he was impressed but even he could tell Teresa was a little winded. Maybe she had a point, maybe he should bring in more family.

"She has an aunt and uncle that have children. They are all the way in Tokyo and I haven't spoken to them in years but… I'm sure they would be thrilled to come and spend some time with her." Bruce looked at the woman who smiled knowingly. "What?"

"I knew you'd come around." Was all she said making Bruce feel uneasy.

"What did you do?" He asked, he was still trying to figure out just exactly what she was capable of.

"Nothing I haven't done before." Teresa waved her hand dismissively. "Now off to bed for you too. There is no light in the sky yet and you won't be young forever."

~~~~~~~~

Nick sighed as he rubbed his eyes. He really needed to take a break from the computer but he just had one more task to do. Blinking, he stared back at the screen and clicked on his junk folder. Without meaning to, he accidentally clicked on one of the files. He was about to exit out of it when he noticed the header.

“Hey honey?” He called out and blinked again wondering if maybe he was just sleep deprived.

“Yeah?” Debbie asked, coming out from Jens room holding the book she no doubt took from the girl in order for her to go to sleep.

“Um, since when did Bruce have a daughter?” He asked cautiously, still unsure if the article was real or not.

“What?” Debbie asked, walking faster. She stood behind him and bent forward to see what her husband could possibly be talking about.

There in the email was an article from the Gotham Gazette a large photo was displayed that had Bruce walking out of an ice cream shop holding a little girl that looked to be around five. Next to him was an old woman who had a soft smile on her face. In the bottom corner was a picture of two women but one seemed vaguely familiar. The header read Who’s the Real Mother?

Debbie didn't bother to read the article, instead she focused more on the little girl that Bruce carried. It was hard to really see any of her features in the black and white photo but there was no mistake when it came to the way that little girl smiled. She had Aunt Martha's smile.

“I’ll start looking into flights.” Was all Nick said as he opened a new tab.

“I’ll start packing.” Now all Debbie had to figure out was if she was going to slap her cousin or kill him for not telling her about her niece.

#oc x bruce wayne #batsis x bruce wayne #throughout the years

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 4 years

Note

For the Fairy tale au what about yandere prince!giorno with cinderella!reader? Giorno could convince everyone he's rescuing them from their life. Or you could do yandere prince giorno with sleeping beauty reader, where reader doesn't wake up after being kissed, instead waking up in the palace chained up. Naturally if you don't like this request feel free to ignore it, or if you want to use other characters that's fine too. I hope you feel better soon! Your mental health is important!

Thanks for your support anyway here it is.

Prince charming

(yandere Giorno Giovanna X Female Reader)

You were always a happy and humble girl. You always looked towards the bright side of any situation, even after all the hardships you had faced. To you every day was a new beginning

You let out a sigh as you wiped the sweat off your forehead and marveled at the marble floor that you had spent hours cleaning only for it so all be ruined when you stepmother and stepsisters walked all over it with their dirty shoes.

"I can't wait for the ball, to meet the prince would be a dream" Abigail mused as she twirled in her beautiful dress.

"Oh just imagine it, the sweet music that would play as you looked into his saphire eyes" Teresa wooed as she followed her sister.

"What's happening?" You asked them and they gave you a look of disgust.

"None of your business cinderface!" They spat.

"Oh dear girls don't be so harsh on her, we should at least give her a chance" your step mother spoke in such a sweet voice.

"What?!" The twins gasped in horror, none of you had ever heard her speak so nicely to you.

"She can come... But only if she cleans through the whole mansion... And manages to get herself a suitable dress before Friday afternoon" she said and your stepsisters cracked up while you felt you stomach twist, you only had three days.

🐞🐞🐞

You watched your step relatives from the attic window that you had just cleaned. Today your sisters had planned to get their dresses and of course you weren't included in such affairs, you never were and you didn't mind it. You were just content with the few little things around you.

Even if you were able to go to the ball. The prince wouldn't spare a moment for a housemaid like you but still some sort of urge to see the prince in person was there, maybe you just wanted to see the male in which your step sisters gushed over.

You were soon brought out of your thoughts by a sudden thud. You wiped your head to the side to see that one of the many boxes had falled off of one of the shelves. You walked to it and flipped it over to put the fabric back inside only to find it was a dress with a large sum of money folded in it as well as an envelope with your name.

You opened it to see the old letter, the paper yellowed with age.

To my dear (Y/n)

This is my present to you on your eighteenth birthday.

I wish you the most luck my blessed child and I wish I could have watched you grow up to be the beautiful woman you are today but alas while I write this letter to you my body grows weak and my memories slowly fade.

I love you and even thou I am no longer alive my soul still watches over you.

From your loving mother

Your eyes began to tear up as you finished the letter. You missed your parents. They use to shower you with their love and attention. This seemed like a sign that you mother was watching over you. The dress itself was a bit old and plain but with the money you could buy some stuff to make alterations.

You quickly finished cleaning up the attic before putting the dress on a mannequin and placing it in your room before grabbing the money and leaving the house to go to the nearby town and buying anything you thought would look nice to add to the dress.

Once you got home you quickly finished up the rest of the duties with a whole day to spare.

🐞🐞🐞

The day of the ball arrived and you grew ever so excited for the night to come. You helped your step sisters get into their gowns, of course they had to make a huge fuss about how you weren't doing something right but it didn't bother you in the slightest.

"So (Y/n) did you manage to get yourself a dress?" Teresa snickered.

"Yes I did actually" you replied which caused her to nearly choke on air.

"Really now (Y/n)... Care to show us?" Your step mother asked in a cynical tone.

"Of course" you replied before going to your room and changed into it before coming back in to show them.

"Where did you get that from?" Abigail asked in a snarky tone.

"In the attic I found a box with this dress in it along with some money, so I used it to make a few alterations" you explained.

"So you stole from me?" Your step mother hissed.

"No I'd never do such a thing, in the box was a letter from my mother... It was supposed to be my eighteenth birthday present" you explained as she stormed towards you.

"Lies! After all I've done for you!" She screamed as she ripped the sleeve of your dress.

"You're nothing but a disrespectful brat!" She said as she tackled you to the ground and began to tear your dress to shreds.

"You are nothing but a thief!" She roared as she got up before fixing up your hair.

"Abigail, Teresa. We will be leaving to the ball now" she sighed.

"And as for you (Y/n)... You will be punished for what you have done when we return" she hissed as she along with her daughters left the room as they made their way to the carriage waiting for them, leaving you as a teary mess on the floor.

You cried and cried, uncertain as to why you'd be accuse of such a thing. Until a bright light emitted from the room. When you looked up you saw an orb of light like a giant star.

"Dry your tears my dear...you have done no wrong" a ghostly voice said.

"What are you?" You asked only for the voice to let out a light chuckle.

"I promised you my soul would watch over your my child" they replied.

"Mother?" You asked.

"Yes it's me dear, now I wish to help you"

"But how?" You asked.

"Come to the garden, then I'll tell you what I need" she replied before floating out the room.

You stood up and began to follow the orb of light though the house until you entered the garden.

"Now my dear. I need you to find me a pumpkin, a frog and four mice" she explained. You did have doubt in catching the animals she had requested but it seemed that they instantly came towards you.

"I see the animals can sense that you have a pure heart, they seem eager to help" your mother explained. You quickly ran to the vegetable garden and picked out the largest pumpkin. You struggled to carry it but you absolutely refused to drop it.

"I have everything mom, what now?" You asked before the pumpkin in your hand turned to solid gold causing you to drop it and it quickly grew til it was the size of a shed. Then it morphed into a carriage, the mice turned into horses and the frog turned into a stumpy little man. You nearly fell back in suprise but some invisible force caught you.

Your dress mended itself and turned into a beautiful white gown, a pair of glass heels slipped onto your feet and a white mask appeared on your face.

"Now (Y/n) before you head to the ball you must understand two conditions, the spell will wear of at the stroke of midnight and if your mask is removed then the spell will also fade" she said before the stumpy man lead you to the carriage.

"Thank you mother" you said to the wisp before you hopped in.

🐞🐞🐞

You looked out the window as the carriage approached the castle that loomed in the distance. It was like a fairy tale, it was like you were in a fairy tale. The carriage eventually halted and a servant escorted you into the castle grounds where many chatted away.

"Wow your dress is so beautiful miss" a familiar voice said. You turned your head to see Teresa.

"Who made it?" Abigail asked, obviously the two didn't realise it was you.

"My mother made it" you replied and the two girls laughed.

"You just like our step sister" Teresa said.

"She does, but we know your not her... She couldn't get a dress like that" Abigail snickered before they walked of.

'That was a close call' you thought, maybe the mask was magic or maybe the two were just stupid but you thanked God they hadn't noticed.

You simply watched as men and women danced the night away, sitting by the sidelines until someone tapped your shoulder.

"What is a beautiful woman such as yourself standing around here, surely someone would ask you to dance with them" asked the male beside you who's hair was like strands of gold and eyes were like sapphires.

"This is my first time attending a ball" you explained to him.

"Really?" The male asked in suprise.

"Yes... I'm but a simple house maid" you explained.

"Then would you care to dance with me?" He asked.

"Oh, I haven't danced in years... I don't want to make you look like a fool Infront of everyone" you said.

"Who said we had to dance in the ball room" the male replied as he led you away from the crowd and up the winding stairs until you reached an atrium where various plants grew and flowers bloomed in every corner.

"I can teach you how to dance" the male said in a sweet voice as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Place your hands on my shoulders" he guided and you followed.

"Good, now when I step back you should step forward and vice versa" he said and you tried to follow his but eventually stepped on his foot.

"Ow" he groaned.

"I'm sorry I didn't-"

"No you don't need to apologize, I know you didn't mean to... It's just part of the learning process" he chuckled before you tried again and in no time more you breezed through the complex moves. You both danced and danced until you saw your stepmother watching you from a distance, you were about to speak up until the male pressed his lips against yours and you quickly pushed him away.

"Senorita, what's the matter?" He asked.

"We only just met..." You muttered.

"But can't you feel our connection? When I first laid eyes on you I felt in, love at first sight" he explained.

"No... Such a thing only exists in fairytales" you responded.

"Well let it be our fairytale... You should stay with me, as my princess... You'll never have to go back to being a house maid" he said in such a sickeningly sweet tone as he tried to get you back in his hands, but you kept backing away.

"No... No!" You argued before making a run for it.

"Wait, please wait!" He called as he followed you.

"No I can't be with you! It isn't right for either of us" you yelled back as your ran down the stairs case, one of your glass slippers falling off in the process, you quickly tried to retrieve it but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Don't be like this" he cooed before trying to take your mask off but as he did it began to crack like china. You pushed away from him again and tried to run. You pushed through the crowd desperately and tried to reach the the exit but the guards quickly grabbed you.

"Let me go! I don't want this!" You screamed on the top of you lungs. All eyes were on you in astonishment as you were being dragged to the prince.

"Cara mia, please don't make a scene" the male said as you were pushed towards him however in that moment a miracle happened, a chandelier fell down between you and the Prince. You took your chance to run as the guards let go of you. You finally got through the door and ran to the carriage with not a care to the rubble that pierced your bare foot as the ring of the clock began to count down to the stroke of midnight. The carriage only got you so far until everything reverted to its original form but it was enough for you to get away from the castle.

🐞🐞🐞

You woke up the next morning and headed to the kitchen to cook breakfast only to find a stranger already preparing it.

"Who are you?" You asked the lady.

"I'm the new house maid" she replied.

"Wait since-" you were quickly silenced by your stepmother.

"We were never short on money... I was just so greedy that I didn't want to pay for a house maid" your stepmother said in a guilty tone.

"I'm so sorry for being so harsh on you for all these years... After seeing the way you charmed prince Giovanna I realised that I treated you so unfairly" he said as she stroked your hair, the mentioning of the prince.

"Please... Don't let anyone find out" you pleaded.

"I won't, but I don't understand why you wouldn't leave us after all the terrible things we did to you?" she said

"I was fine with living the life I had, I know that others may have it worse off... all I wanted to do that night was see a real ball, not attract the attention of a lovesick prince" you explained before she took you to the dinning room.

🐞🐞🐞

From there all seemed good, your step relatives treated you kindly and your step mother had plans for you all to move to a nicer mansion outside of the kingdom.

You had packed up the last of your belongings when someone had knocked on the door, naturally you opened it, your poor heart nearly exploded as you saw prince Giovanna at your doorstep along with two of his guards.

"Good morning" the male greeted as he held the glass slipper you lost.

"Go...good morning your majesty" you stuttered as you bowed Infront of him.

"You seem suprised, I'm sure you must of heard that every woman in the kingdom is obligated to try on the glass slipper" he said.

"No, no it's just that you caught us in the middle of packing but I'm sure my sister's will be down any minute" you explained as you tried to get your sisters but the prince grabbed your arm.

"Then why don't you try it on while we wait for them" he said in a stern tone as his hold on you grew tighter.

"I wasn't at the ball... I twisted my ankle" you lied.

"Then let me see" he asked. Bit your lip as you forcedly twisted your ankle, you tried your best to hide the pain before showing him your leg.

"See, it's twisted" you said causing the male to sigh.

"I see then" he said before looking up to see your sisters who were more then eager to try on the slipper, however you noticed the droplets of blood that trailed behind them. Abigail had cut off her big toe and Teresa had cut off the back of her heel, both in an attempt to make up for their cruelty towards you for all these years.

They sat down. Abigail was the first to try on the slipper and it fit the the prince's delight but as the prince looked at the shoe on her foot more closely he saw the blood.

"Are you mocking me!" The male growled at her causing her to cower away. Then Teresa tried it on and it fit but one of the guards soon pointed out the blood that dripped from the back of the shoe which enraged the prince.

"You both think you can play with my heart! the girl that I desire did not try to impress me!" He hissed with a voice full of venom. You just hoped that that was the end of it and he would just leave but you quickly noticed one of the guards had vanished, how long had he been gone for?

Soon they had returned with the other glass slipper which made your blood freeze.

"Well then... It seems we have the other slipper, since your other foot is fine (Y/n) why don't you try it?" He asked.

"I'd rather not" you said before the two guards forced you to sit, holding you in place as the prince placed the shoe on your foot, a perfect fit.

"Why did you put me on a wild goose chase to find you?" He asked.

"Because I don't want to marry you, love at first sight in madness!" You explained.

"Well I think your just too modest for your own good, or maybe your family have a role in this" he explained as an evil gleam formed in your eye.

"You mentioned you were a housemaid if I remember correctly... But you are meant to be a noble in blood, am I correct?" He asked.

You gave the prince no response.

"Did your step relatives work you like a slave?" He asked again.

"No-"

"They treated you below them did they not?" He asked again as he cut off your previous answer. You gave him no response as you looked away from him.

"Your step sisters tried to rob you of a happily ever after" he said.

"They probably made you feel unworthy of love" he continued.

"Stop it! They had nothing to do with it!" You screamed.

"You're just a poor degraded mess... You don't know even know your true worth" he explained before he planted a kiss on your lips.

"Don't worry I'll have them pay for how they treated you"

"No!" You screamed.

"(Y/n) you just don't understand... I'm the prince charming that is rescuing you" he explained. Before he left. You knew that it wasn't the last of him but you never expected him to go to the lengths that he did.

The whole kingdom was told that your step relatives were abusive. That they treated you like a slave, that they beat you, they locked you in a basement and starved you. None of it was true but the whole kingdom believed it and eventually you were forced to marry prince Giorno.

In the night of your wedding he presented you his gift... To watch your step relatives dance on a floor of coals and barbwire as the townspeople heckled and howled, screaming words of hatred to those innocent women until they died.

#yandere giorno #yandere x reader #yandere jjba #yandere #jojo giorno #giorno x reader #fairytale au #spacy works

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violetrose-art · 3 years

Text

Voices for Gods, Goddesses, and Other Creatures

Just a list of actors and actresses who I think could do a good job playing the Gods and Goddesses of Mount Olympus from Disney's Hercules (and even a few nymphs and other creatures and characters from Greek Mythology). Tell me what you think.

Persephone: Anne Hathaway (The Grand High Witch of The Witches)

Helios: Martin Short (Edward Frankenstein of Frankenweenie)

Narcissus: Diedrich Bader (Take Evans of Surf's Up)

Eris: Hynden Walch (Princess Bubblegum of Adventure Time)

Rhea: Anjelica Huston (Queen Clarion of Tinker Bell)

Cronus: Ron Perlman (Fire Lord Sozin of Avatar: the Last Airbender)

Cupid: Johnny Depp (Ichabod Crane of Sleepy Hollow)

Psyche: Helena Bonham Carter (Emily of Corpse Bride)

Harmonia: Zoe Saldana (Captain Celaeno of My Little Pony the Movie)

Hedone: Anna Kendrick (Cinderella of Into the Woods)

Khione: Brandy (Cinderella of Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella)

Phobos: Omar Benson Miller (Raph of Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Deimos: Josh Brener (Donnie of Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Erebus: Hoon Lee (Master Splinter of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Nyx: Nicole Oliver (Zoe Trent of Littlest Pet Shop)

Aether: Hugh Jackman (Memphis of Happy Feet)

Hemera: Aimee Mann (Opal of Steven Universe)

Kakia: Rebel Wilson (Raz of Ice Age 4: Continental Drift)

Arete: Estelle (Garnet of Steven Universe)

Eos: Minae Noji (Tang Chen of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Selene: Lisa Hannigan (Blue Diamond of Steven Universe)

Iris: Jill Harris (Charlie of Hazbin Hotel)

Arke: Pamela Adlon (Vidia of Tinker Bell)

Nike: Mae Whitman (Katara of Avatar: the Last Airbender)

Bia: Ashleigh Ball (Rainbow Dash of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Aura: Kelly Sheridan (Barbie of Barbie in the Nutcracker)

Nephele: Cassidy Ladden (Teresa of Barbie and the Diamond Castle)

Thanatos: Lou Ferrigno (Billy of Adventure Time)

Ker: Eva Green (Angelique Bouchard of Dark Shadows)

Apate: Jill Talley (Karen of SpongeBob SquarePants)

Aletheia: Erica Luttrell (Sapphire of Steven Universe)

Leto: Octavia Spencer (Grandma of The Witches)

Themis: Esme Bianco (Eclipsa Butterfly of Star vs. the Forces of Evil)

Mnemosyne: Whoopi Goldberg (The Queen of Rodger and Hammerstein's Cinderella)

Gelos: Jess Harnell (Wakko of Animaniacs)

Elpis: Andrea Libman (Fluttershy of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Metis: Tabitha St. Germain (Princess Luna of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Panacea: Grey Griffin (The Tooth Fairy of The Fairly Odd Parents)

Peitho: Rashida Jones (Donna Who of The Grinch)

Fortuna: Catherine O'Hara (Sally of The Nightmare Before Christmas)

Chloris: Rachel Bloom (Batgirl of Batman vs. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Thalia (blue): Madeleine Peters (Scootaloo of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Agalea (purple): Claire Corlett (Sweetie Belle of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Euphrosyne (pink): Michelle Creber (Apple Bloom of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Minthe: Erica Lindbeck (Loona of Helluva Boss)

Leuke: Abby Elliott (Janna Ordonia of Star vs. the Forces of Evil)

Orphne: Barrett Wilbert Weed (Octavia of Helluva Boss)

Orithyia: Christine Ebersole (White Diamond of Steven Universe)

Macaria (white and green): Olivia Olson (Marceline of Adventure Time)

Melinoe (black and pink): Ashley Tisdale (Candace Flynn of Phineas and Ferb)

Cora (orange nymph): Shannon Chan-Kent (Smolder of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Maia (yellow nymph): Chantal Strand (Diamond Tiara of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Eliana (pink nymph): Sutton Foster (Princess Fiona of Shrek the Musical)

Arianna (green nymph): Deedee Magno-Hall (Pearl of Steven Universe)

Catalina (blue nymph): Kristin Chenoweth (Maleficent of Descendants)

Zagreus: James Maslow (James Diamond of Big Time Rush)

Arachne: Kathleen Barr (Queen Chrysalis of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Lamia: Mary J. Blige (Irene Adler of Sherlock Gnomes)

Medusa: Scarlett Johansson (Princess Mindy of The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie)

Stheno: Kimberly Brooks (Jasper of Steven Universe)

Euryale: Kelly Hu (Karai of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles)

Eurydice: Britt McKillip (Princess Cadance of My Little Pony Friendship is Magic)

Phaedra: Jessica McDonald (Carrie Krueger of The Amazing World of Gumball)

Echo: Linda Cardellini (Wendy Corduroy of Gravity Falls)

If you guys have any suggestions or ideas, feel free to leave a comment. I'd love to hear what you think ^^

#hercules #disney hercules #Greek Mythology

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writemoment · 4 years

Text

A Pick Me Up Pt.2

Writer: Ellie-Mae (Pen Name)

Part: 2/3

Previous Parts: 1

Summary: {Request @incorrect-artist} “I was wondering if you could do (maybe a series) about the reader moving to a new town and almost getting mugged but newt saves her and becomes her bodyguard but falls for her or something like that.”

Pairing: TMR Newt x Fem!Reader

Warnings/Rated: light PTSD (over the attempted mugging), figuring out life and light fluff.

Word Count: 4,079

A/N: I’m so sorry that it has taken so long! I’ve had a lot of chaos in my life and it made writing really difficult for me. Thank you for stopping by to read this! xx

( Reader ) P.O.V.

An array of blues, blacks and purples blossomed in soft petals over my knuckles. The ice I had put on it last night didn’t do much in subduing the swell of my inflamed skin. It was cracked and caked in dried blood that had scabbed over during the night. My wince is obvious as I try to move my predominant hand.

There’s a knock on the door and I know it’s Newt come to get me. He had texted me that he was on his way. I call to him that it’s unlocked as I stand in the kitchen, bottle of peroxide in hand. There’s the sound of the door closing behind him and he walks over to me just as I pour the clear liquid over my skin.

My teeth grit, air being sucked through the spaces in between as I endure the sting of the antiseptic. White, frothy bubbles hiss as it kisses away the dirt and softens the buildup of red that had layered over the cuts.

“Do you need help?” I hear him ask as I fumble with the roll of gauze, struggling to untangle it from it’s sphere.

Huffing with a smile, I give in, “Please.” My eyes catch a glimpse of his fleeting smile before landing on his own matching blue, black scab decorating his high cheekbone. “Though, I should be asking the same with you.”

His digits grasp me softly and he gently wraps the gauze securely over my offended flesh. I try to quell the hisses of pain that threaten to spill from my lips, though I’m not doing very well since Newt’s eyes are clouded with quiet apologies. “I’m okay. Just a little sore, that is.”

“Can I at least put a band-aid on you? It’d make me feel better.” He regards me carefully, watching me in his debate. “No princess or colorful ones, I swear!” This makes the corner of his mouth tilt up and I know I’ve won.

I’m cautious of his handiwork as I rummage through the first aid kit and pull out antibiotic cream alongside a plain bandage. He raises a brow at me but ultimately doesn’t say anything. I suppose he’s choosing his battles wisely.

The dollop of thick ointment feels heavy as I swipe it over his cut, smearing it gently as I go. He, unlike me, doesn’t even flinch at the contact. Even so, I try to glide my fingers just on the surface of his skin. He’s so close to me, I can feel the puff of his breath of my cupids bow. His eyes watch me, the caramel flecks shining in the rays peaking through the window.

The whole ordeal becomes too overwhelming too soon. I quickly place the wanna-be-skin-toned bandage over his cheek and back away to admire my work. “Perfect.” I mumble to myself.

Newt chuckles, shaking his head to hide it. “Are you ready to go?” My hands fist at my pants in an attempt to dry the clamminess that has started to overtake my palms. I nod once. I grab my things before following him out to his vehicle.

The world seems less menacing in the daylight and Newt appears more boyish than he did last night. Earth mixed with the cool breeze fills my nostrils. It almost makes me forget the throbbing that’s radiating up to my wrist.

Last night feels like such a long time ago. My dreams were infected with the weight of what happened and my awakenings ached with fresh reminders. The entire event was on a diced-up replay behind my lids. It was hard to get much sleep despite the utter exhaustion that hung like a heavy fur coat over my being.

Seeing Newt and having him here beside me brings a settling peacefulness. Perhaps it’s the innocent freckles that are sprinkled over his nose or the warmth that pools in his brown eyes but I feel safe with him. There’s a trust that’s draped over my image of him and I suppose that’s why I find myself being most friendly despite not being well acquainted.

Music plays low in his speakers as we drive. The melodic sound gets swept away and carried out into the waiting world through the rolled down windows. The wind lashes my unruly locks around my face and I smile at the comfort of familiarity. With so much change happening in my life, it’s good to sometimes relish in the everyday things.

I catch Newt glancing at me. His golden brown hair is tousled and his face is rid of the harsh lines of worry he had been wearing on our last encounter. In this setting, he almost looks beautiful. In all the boyish charm and sharp handsome, he somehow struck me as a kind of anomaly. It intrigued me.

“What are you thinking about?” He finally asks. There’s a tone in his voice that makes me believe that he’s genuinely curious. He’s not trying to break the silence or cut through any awkward tension, he simply wants to know.

I’m not nearly brave enough to try and explain my thoughts about him. I wrestle with a way to reword my thinking into simple terms that won’t seem peculiar. “I’m thinking about how nice this is. Just driving. Feeling the sun on my face. It’s relaxing.” It’s also true.

“I’m glad.” That’s all he says. I might feel a bit disappointed if I didn’t notice his posture change and the way his thumbs drum against the steering wheel in time with the song.

Having company on the way back into the city took away that sharp edge of nerves that sliced at the insides of my stomach. Even when my car came into view, I felt reassured that someone was there to help me. I was grateful that that someone was Newt.

It took him no time to jump my car and get it started. It squealed in delight and roared to life, breathing in the energy radiating through it with a gravelly purr. We didn’t linger for too long and I found myself slumping at the relief of it. I can’t be positive but I’m sure Newt was being considerate of my feelings, now stained, of this area of the city.

Newt invited me over to his place to hang out, which I accepted with the knowledge that Brenda was going to be there. I followed his vehicle as it weaved through traffic on the cracked, worn down road. My hand ached as it firmly held the steering wheel, my fingers felt stiff and tight.

The farther we got from the city, the more my body sagged from the tension leaving it. I hummed along to whatever popular bop was playing on a random station and let the passing wind carry my worries away. At least for a bit.

His apartment was also located in Glade, maybe a ten minute drive from my place. Brenda had mentioned last night that he was roommates with another one of her friends. I figured it was probably as good of a time as ever to make more connections in this area.

I wasn’t particularly nervous. But there was a constant thread being pulled at in my mind; be yourself but make a good impression- make a good impression. I tried to heed it’s advice while trying to remain calm. Even if everything went to rubbish, I would have Brenda to fall back on. And Newt.

The flat was similar to mine, though in a bit of a better condition. Newt fell into step beside me as we walked over. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

His shoulders bunch up in a non-committal gesture but he doesn’t elaborate. There’s murmurs and laughter emitting from behind the door. It, despite my best efforts, makes my heart rate spike just a bit faster.

Okay, maybe I am just a bit nervous.

Newt gives me a sideways glance before pushing his way through into the living room. There’s a jumble of greetings from the small group scattered through the place. Brenda hops up from the couch to pull me further inside with an arm linked through mine.

“I’m so glad you’re here! I want you to meet everyone!” Her smile is contagious and I let her drag me into the kitchen. “Thomas! This is my friend Y/n!” Brenda introduces us.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n. Brenda has told me about you! Welcome to Glade.” Another person walks into the small kitchen and I’m introduced to him as well. Minho is his name.

“Did you guys see the shiner that Newt’s sporting?” Minho inquires with amusement in his voice. Though he’s being playful, - and probably doesn’t know about what happened- it feels like a bucket of ice water was dumped over me.

Brenda looks at me worriedly but my eyes are already scanning for Newt. I find him talking to a girl in the living room. Even with the band-aid, the mark demands attention and it’s getting just so. There’s a pang of, what I can only assume is, guilt as I watch him converse.

His eyes catch mine and his brows furrow. Looking away, I try to shake my emotions off. Minho and Thomas are engaging in a lighthearted argument as Brenda steers me away. Before we get too far, Thomas sends me an apologetic look.

“Thomas is Newt’s roommate,” Brenda explains as we step outside the back door. “He knows about last night. Minho and Teresa don’t know what happened- Minho didn’t mean anything by what he said.”

“I know. I’m not... offended. I just still feel a bit off, that’s all.” It finally dawns on me as to why Newt asked if I were okay earlier. Truthfully, I’m not entirely sure what I am right now. “I just want to go back in there and try to enjoy myself.”

Brenda looks weary but doesn’t try to change my mind. “You have me by your side. And don’t worry about Minho- He’s always getting himself into trouble without knowing it.” I force a half smile at her.

Just before we step back into the company of others, the girl - Teresa - marches out the door to meet us. We’re quickly introduced before we start a light conversation between the three of us.

My mind is barely registering anything that’s being said and I pray that my responses don’t indicate how scatter-brained I currently am. I can see the kitchen from this angle and spot the three guys talking inside. The hair on the back of my neck rises as it feels Newt trying to catch my gaze. I avoid him as best as I can but not before seeing his lips pull into a thin, tight line.

I don’t know exactly why I choose this behavior. Somewhere, deep inside, I suppose I don’t want his reassurance or questioning expression. I don’t want Newt, or Brenda for that matter, to become a crutch. Yet, I feel so small in this moment and my mind spins me dizzy.

All the relief that I had previously felt while sitting next to Newt in the car has disappeared. My comfort has been swept away with the wind and I no longer feel the ease that had been smoothing over my face earlier.

There’s a fog settled over me and I know it’s doing me no good to persevere at this rate. “I’m not feeling too good. I think I should head on home. It was a pleasure meeting you, Teresa.” I intervene into whatever context I wasn’t apart of.

Teresa nods in understanding, bidding me a safe drive home. “Do you want me to go with you?” Brenda asks, following me just out of range for anyone else to hear. But I shake my head before reassuring her with a promise to text her later.

I throw my goodbye into the general direction of the boys in hopes to make a swift exit. It doesn’t work. “You’re leaving so soon?” Minho asks with a blue solo cup angled at me.

Again, my lips spew my excuses and apologies. Newt eyes me, almost as if conducting a silent conversation; What’s wrong?

Nothing, my eyes seem to exasperatedly sigh at him. Though the lie must be as obvious as it tastes. I don’t understand why- I don’t owe any explanation to Newt or anyone else.

He quirks a brow at me, the harsh lines returning to his once boyish features. You can’t expect me to believe that. His arms cross over his chest.

My eyes harden- No. That’s what I expect you to accept from me. Believe what you want. My mood instantly sours and I hate the feelings that have overtaken.

Newt’s arms fall to his sides and his eyes soften. I can’t bear the way he’s looking at me any longer. Thomas and Minho express their ‘get better’s’ weaved in with their eyes. I tuck a tight-lipped smile into the envelope sealing my first impressions and steer my way out of there.

I half expect Newt to follow me out, but I plop into the comfort of my car with no shadow attached. The silence is deafening and I welcome it, even focus on it. I know this is just a reprieve to the chaos my thoughts will bring later on.

Huffing loudly, I start my car and drive my way back home.

****

Sweat coats in a thin layer on my flesh. The bed sheets are rumpled and tugged from their corners. I thrash at the dreams that convulse my body, panicked groans escaping my parted lips.

My body jerks up in a demented angle, startling at the shattering plunge into consciousness. Cold sweat beads atop my skin, weeping down my curves and dividing between the ravine of crevices. It leaves a sickly film behind and my clothes cling to it. There’s the pounding of blood in my ears and I can not register anything other than my shallow breaths.

In the soft glow of the room, the bright green of the digital clock draws my attention to the time; 5AM. I gulp down air but it feels rough against my sandpaper tongue- smothering me. Rolling from the mattress, I steer myself into the kitchen. Even when I eventually manage to get cold water to slip down my throat, it feels thick and has the consistency of sludge in my mouth. It coats my esophagus in a slimy slick.

My dream has vanished. A mixture of memory with magnified horrors of make-believe. I can’t even really recall the details of the phenomenon, just the terror that gripped me with it’s icy claws.

I slip my phone from where it’s plugged in and slide open a message tab to Brenda: Are you awake?

Fifteen minutes pass with no response. She must still be asleep. And how could I blame her? It’s an ungodly hour to be awake for any reason. Yet, I know that I won’t be able to lay back down to get anymore shut eye.

There’s this need that’s scratching me from the inside. It feels like glass brushing up against my inner walls. It’s a need to talk, to be listened to more than just heard. To be understood,- but mostly - to understand.

It’s been almost a week since the party at Newt’s and Thomas’s. Almost a week since I turned away Newt’s attempt to help. I haven’t seen or spoken to him since. And it’s nagged at me.

Sure, I’ve gone to work and gone out to hang with Brenda- but it was always tugging at me in the bouts of silence that leaked between all of that. It wasn’t anything I could explain further than the fact that he was there that night. Newt holds that experience with me and it feels as if he would be able to partially understand the toll it has taken on me.

I slide over to his name in my phone. Before I can talk myself out of it, I type out my message and hit send. Hey, Newt. Are you awake?

There’s an electricity thrumming through my veins as I lean against the cool surface of my kitchen sink. The dark diminishes as the sun rises, claiming it’s vibrancy from the monochrome night.

The buzz is muffled by my palm. I check my lit-up screen to see Newt’s name beside a new message. Are you alright?

Am I alright? I wasn’t sure but I wasn’t in any danger. Texts can so often be misconstrued and I that’s the last thing I need right now. Yeah... I can’t sleep. I was wondering if you wanted to talk?

I almost expected him to brush me off, to tuck his phone back into it’s resting nook and not give me another thought. I wouldn’t have blamed him after my childish behavior at the party the other day.

Everyday brings a new lesson for me to learn. True. But that doesn’t mean that I still don’t get crushed underneath the pressures of my life. I know I could have handled all of this better but I’m still learning. I swear I’m trying.

My disappointment has slipped into my throat, lodged in a great heap that has me swallowing thickly. The hand cradling my phone falls limp at my side just as the device begins to bellow it’s tone.

I jump and drop the ringing cell that’s crying loudly through the once quiet room. My hands skitter across the linoleum floor and I thumb the green answer button as I scoop it to my ear. “Hello?”

It’s Newt.

And just like before, he’s a beacon of peace and comfort in the rapids of my chaos. As a loose a greeting in the early morning light, I find my heart flutters for an entirely different reason than before.

****

Two hours.

Newt listened and spoke and related and laughed with me. He was patient and he was caring. The more I learned about him the less I felt alone. We weren’t the same and our destinies weren’t connected through some phenomenon. We were just two people who were able to find a friend in one another. A confidant.

We didn’t have crazy similar backgrounds or stories, but we had both learned life lessons. We have both become empathetic as our own paths were etched. I think that’s what I appreciated the most about Newt. He didn’t know how to pick me up, he just wanted to.

It wasn’t until Brenda knocked on my door that we were whisked back into the present. Newt had to get ready for work. “Okay- Thanks for being here for me, Newt. I appreciate it.” Brenda waltzes past me as I’m holding the front door open and I can smell that she’s packed breakfast.

“It was my pleasure. I enjoy getting to know you better.” I try to repress my smile with the knowledge that Brenda has a hawk-like gaze trained on me. “Listen, Y/n- Would you like to go out for dinner tomorrow? My treat.” He tacked the last line sloppily on the end, as if I needed to be convinced.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

A shiver kisses my skin as I hear the smile in his voice. “Good that. I’ll talk to you soon.” I suck my lip between my teeth while hanging up. Brenda has an eyebrow arched at me so high that it almost gets lost in her hairline.

“What?”

She shakes her head. “Oh nothing....” She claims but starts humming the kissing song underneath her breath. I throw an oven mitt at her as I feel my face flush crimson. “C’mon! You’re totally smitten with him. It’s obvious.”

“Am not,” I counter but the words feel forced. After a pause, I ask, “Is it seriously that obvious?” Brenda nods sympathetically and I groan. The embarrassment makes me feel like a kid again.

It’s been so long since I had last had a crush. I don’t know what to do or how to act. There is no rule book for me to review or any way that I can go about this ‘the right way’. That alone keeps me on my toes.

“Don’t stress, Y/n. He likes you, too.”

I think she’s trying to help but it has the opposite effect. If he likes me now with barely any knowledge of me, it will make it worse if those feelings dissipate with time. What will I do then if the real me is rejected? I’m not sure. I hate being unsure.

But I don’t voice these concerns. Instead, I smile at her. “Thank you. You’re the best.” Because she is and she deserves to know. Brenda grins brightly as she hands me breakfast. “So... Would you be up to helping me pick an outfit out for my dinner with Newt?”

She looks over the moon as she replies, “Yes. Yes, I would.”

****

The next evening came in a blur of nervous jitters and excited chatter. I didn’t know what to expect when it came to something like this. Especially with Newt. Brenda and I talked a bit about how I had acted at the party. Though I had reasons to feel out of control, we both agreed I should have handled the situation better. She emphasized on open communication.

“What if my thoughts don’t make sense,” I had asked, “And it leaves me feeling foolish?”

She seemed thoughtful as she replied, “You felt foolish after keeping them in, too. At least when you voice your worries, there is someone to redirect your feelings.”

So that’s what I’m going to be working on a lot more. Being on my own has taught me that being an ‘adult’ isn’t about knowing everything and being this super confident being. It’s about learning and picking yourself up with your head held high. We’re all struggling in some way and that’s just life.

I sat on the couch thinking about this while waiting for Newt. My mascara dipped eyelashes fluttered against rosy cheeks, eyes directed in a downcast as I continue to get lost in thought.

It isn’t until the bright flash of headlights cut across my window that I swim my way out of the reverie I was in. There’s the distinct sound of a car door shutting and I quickly do a once-over to straighten myself before answering the knocking.

Newt looks sheepish but sharply handsome as he leans against the frame in a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to the elbow and dark jeans hugging his hips. He’s breathtaking. “Wow.” That one word has me viewing my own casual-sleek attire with nervousness. But he doesn’t even let me be critical, “You look amazing.”

My lips curl into a blooming smile, “I suppose you don’t look too bad yourself.” Teasing him is my best form of flattery and my chest grows tight at the amused smirk he bestows upon me.

Locking the door behind me, we swiftly enter the car with excited quiet settled between us. There’s a chemistry that sparks in the atmosphere and it makes me acutely aware of how close he is. It makes me wonder if he notices or feels it, too.

Our eyes keep locking with each other and we both laugh nervously. I’ve never felt this way around someone. These conflicting emotions of calm and jittery are making me feel light headed in the best way. Pondering what Brenda and I spoke about, I decide to tell Newt how I’m feeling.

“I’ve never done this before. I’m not sure how to act.” Newt glances over to me before returning his eyes to the road. “What I mean is- I’m excited and nervous. I hope that my emotions are conveying correctly.”

His lips pull up, “You’re doing a fine job. And if it helps, I’m excited and nervous, too.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he smiles at me. It’s everything I didn’t realize I needed to hear. Newt refocuses on the road and my emotions start to focus in on one. Excitement.

As we pull up to the restaurant, one word pops into my head; Safe. With Newt I feel excited and safe. He makes quick work of parking the car before jumping out to open my door. And as I slide my hand into his, I know that there isn’t anywhere else I would rather be.

****

Part Three {Ending}

Masterlist Here

A/N: I’m sorry this took so long! I was having a tough time sorting out my thoughts and emotions so I kind of let them leak through into the story...sorry? Haha. Thank you for hanging in there with me! I know this isn’t the most exciting story but I hope you like it. - Ellie-Mae xx

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jay-and-dean · 4 years

Text

Sweat and Dirt and Cum

Demon Dean x Reader

Summary : Calling Demon Dean because you miss Dean... Bad bad idea.

Warnings : SMUT (yeah you read the title), like kinda dark (it’s Deanmon !), hair pulling, Dom!Deanmon, total marking kink, mh... blood ? A hint of dirty talk and anal play ? I think that’s it. Swearing of f*cking course.

Note : This is my part of @holylulusworld‘s 11k Celebration. I know it’s a big drabble... I promised you a round 3 Lulu... I wasn’t kidding. Congratulation again.

Also this is my first Demon Dean fic.

Wordcount : 1.2k

My MASTERLIST

——————————————————————

Tugging at the too short dress of your angel costume, you shiver. The night is cold and, out here on that parking lot, you can barely hear the loud music playing inside of the bar so no one would hear you call.

“That was a bad idea” you mutter to yourself, licking the liquor on your lips and looking in the dark surrounding you in a mix of fear and excitement. “Bad… bad idea.”

It was the worst idea indeed.

You Miss Dean painfully, yes… But he is not himself anymore, he is not your boyfriend. He is the monster he always fought now. And he proved it when he abandoned you, like Sammy, with that stupid note : “Let me go.”

“An angel, Y/n… Really ?” a voice makes you jump and your phone falls on the floor in a cracking sound that makes you hiss.

Then your eyes eagerly search the shadows behind the reach of the pallid street light above your head. Your body is shaking and a cold drop of sweat is running down your spine.

Dean is dangerous, a trained killer with torture skills. You never really thought of it when he was human, because he was a good man, but now, he’s a knight of Hell. And you texted him your location…

“Where are you ?” you ask shakily, not knowing in which direction to talk.

A shadow moves, black on black, and his silhouette tears itself away from the dark, entering the street light.

Your body shivers, your stomach is hurting with terror, but every cell of your body is screaming for him. Your love, your obsession, everything you have been missing for the pass months.

“You didn’t invite me to your little Halloween party… Angel” he smirks with an expression on his perfect face that you never knew before.

“Why would I ?” you say, trying to swallow the tears in your trembling voice. “You left.”

“So why did you call ?” his eyes turn black.

That’s when you notice the blood on his sleeves, the blood on his shoes, fresh… Everywhere.

“Oh God…” you let out a terrified sob. “What were you doing…”

“Angel, why did you call ?” he insists, taking a few steps closer that look totally threatening.

“I don’t know” you cry, honest. “I was at that party and drank a little and…”

Now standing in front of you, he lets his hands gently go up your naked arms, and touch, with the tip of his bloody fingers, the feathers of the white wings you’re carrying in your back. You sigh at his touch, tears still rolling down your face.

You missed him so much, and you need him like crazy, so you lean on his caress, ignoring the pitch black monstrosity in his eyes.

But all of sudden, his hand fists your hair brutally, making your head go back in a pained gasp.

“Why. Did. You. Call” he groans, closer to your ear.

“I…” you sob with no more tears, but his strong arm tugs even harder at your hair, so much that it hurts your neck. “I MISS YOU !” you finally let out in a desperate scream.

“Oh I miss you too Angel” he chuckles darkly, his tongue darting out to lick at your neck. “Put your little hand on my cock and feel how much” you don’t really move. “Hand on my cock, now.”

Not able to look down because of how hard he’s holding your hair, you let your hesitant hand grab his crotch, and feel liquid fill your panties.

“On my cock, Angel, not on my jeans” he groans, biting your pulse point hard with his perfect sharp teeth.

You cry out, tugging at your own hair to get free of his cruel grip, but he won’t let go.

“Dean…” you whimper, torn, scared and needy. “Stop those games, take me please… I miss us…”

A dreadful laugh comes out of his chest.

“How fucking desperate” he mocks you, his other hand playfully spreading blood on your cleavage.

You open his belt with trembling hands, push the zipper down and slip inside of his pants, finding no underwear, only his hard cock pushing at the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Dean…” you moan, your walls clenching around nothing, again and again, begging for him.

“Make me want it, Angel” he smirks, forcing your mouth open with his bloody hand to lick inside it.

You start pumping his length, moaning at the feeling of his veins and silky skin, going down to his balls occasionally. He groans in your neck sucking a hickey somewhere it can’t be hidden.

“More” he orders as he crushes you against the cold and soot darken wall behind you.

Your neck still slightly angled back, you close your eyes, trying to ignore the blood on him and the pain in your scalp, to focus on the smell of Dean, his skin, and everything you ever loved. Your other hand joins the one working to focus on the head of his twitching cock.

“Fuck yes” he moans. “You want me that bad, you’re pathetic.”

When he lets go of your hair, you gasp in relief, the burning feeling wetting your eyes.

He turns you, crushing your face on the tiles, and once again your inner walls throb in anticipation. His hand roughly cups your sex.

“I feel you fucking clench through your panties !” his bloody fingers start rubbing from your entrance to your clit harshly, sending your craving body close to the edge already. You can feel his nails scratch the wet fabric against your swollen clit and you know you’re soaking his hand.

“Please…” you whine, panting with your face against the dirty wall.

A cold feeling on your butt makes you look back and you jump in sudden fear. The First Blade.

“Sh… I won’t kill you, Angel” he lets out with a vicious chuckle. “I want you alive…” the blade cuts your panties easily, and they fall at your ankles. “I want you to walk back in that Halloween shit” his fingers come back to your folds, spreading your wetness from your aching clit to your asshole. “And I want you to walk funny when you look for my brother” his fingers tease your entrance and you try not to think of who’s blood it is on it. “Your pretty wings and dress all bloody, skin bruised and covered in hickeys” he moves to tease your other hole, making it pulsate under his expert fingers. “All filthy with sweat and dirt and cum.”

With that, and without any other warning, he bends you more and pushes his so desired cock inside of you in a sharp and brutal thrust that makes you cry out loudly.

“W-wait…” you gasp, needing a second to adjust. “D-dean.”

His face comes closer to yours, eyes flashing black again. Your thighs shake hard as you try to delay the orgasm already threatening to crush you.

“There is no waiting” he thrusts again so hard your body bangs on the dusty wall, a feral growl makes his chest vibrate on your back. “You take me, Angel. You take me everywhere and in every ways, then you can sit in my car, dripping on the seats while Sammy drives you home.”

_______________________________

FEEDBACK IS MY FUEL

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mistrose23 · 4 years

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I love you - B. Simpson

DISCLAIMER: Just pretend that the boys didn’t release the song “For You” already AND Teresa is not a real person, I made her up. Enjoy and happy holidays!

SUMMARY: A Brad Simpson Christmas fluff. Y/N and Brad are spending the Christmas holidays together. The band is also there with their partners. Fluff fluff fluff

WARNINGS: F L U F F & some sexual innuendos

WORD COUNT: 4088

* “Bab” is Birmingham slang, it’s used as an affectionate term for “love or dear”

December 23rd

The cold British air hit Y/N her face, when she reached the top of the underground staircase. She tightened her scarf around her neck, and she put on her gloves. Y/N sped up her pace with one grocery back in each hand and she made her way home. Today she had her last day of work before the Christmas holidays and she was so happy that she had some free time. With Brad and the boys their tour and her busy work schedule, Y/N hadn’t seen her boyfriend that much the last couple of months. Brad would be home when she would return. He and the boys were writing some songs for their new album for next year. Y/N was getting used to the routine they had. Songwriting, recording, putting the album together, releasing some singles, promoting the songs, releasing the album, promoting their album, going on tour and then they had some free time.

When Y/N walked around the corner and went into her street, something cold and wet hit her face. She looked up to the sky and saw that it was snowing. A smile appeared on her face and she rushed to the apartment building where Brad and she lived. Brad and Y/N were dating for five years now and they are living together for two years. They had never been happier. Y/N reached the front door, so she put down the grocery bags and unlocked the door with her keys. Y/N also pressed the doorbell to their apartment.

After a few seconds, she could hear Brad’s voice over the intercom. ‘Hello?’

‘Brad, could you open the front door for me in a second?’ Y/N said. ‘I went grocery shopping and -’

‘Hi, love,’ he interrupted her, and she could hear the smile in his voice. ‘Of course, see you in a bit.’

Y/N blushed and smiled, and she thanked him. Quickly she walked inside, kicked the door shut and walked towards the elevator. Luckily, the door was already open. Y/N stepped inside, and she pressed the button to their floor. Within a couple of seconds, the elevator dinged, and the doors opened. Y/N was greeted by a blond-haired boy with a big smile on his face.

‘Tris!’ she yelled.

Y/N picked up the bags and, put them down again outside the elevator and she jumped into his arms. Tristan was one of her best friends. She met the boys through some mutual friends and Y/N hit it off with Tristan immediately. But the curly brown-haired boy caught her eye. They went on a date because of Connor and James. They knew from Tristan that Y/N had a crush on the singer, so the two guys made a plan to trick them. James told her that they were all going out for dinner just because and Connor told Brad the same. At first they were a bit shy and awkward, but after a few minutes the two were laughing and talking and swooning. Brad and Y/N even kissed that night. And now all of that is history.

Tristan brought Y/N back from her daydream by crushing her bones. ‘I missed you so much. You look so good. How was work?’

Y/N laughed. ‘Easy. I missed you too. Work was fine, I’m very happy that I’m free for two weeks. How are you?’

He released her slowly and grabbed the bags. ‘Good, little bit tired. Happy to see you.’

‘Oh, Tris, no, I can carry those,’ she argued.

‘No, you just returned from work,’ Tristan said while shrugging his shoulders.

‘Yes and you just returned from tour today,’ Y/N argued again. ‘Plus, you guys are working right now.’

He raised his eyebrow. ‘Let me be a gentleman please.’

She giggled and nodded. ‘Fine, let’s go. I want to kiss my man.’

‘Gross,’ Tristan laughed.

She shot him a playful glare. ‘I bet you didn’t say that when Teresa wanted to kiss you.’

‘Don’t drag my wife into this,’ he shot back, but with a wink.

‘Wife...’ Y/N mumbled. ‘I never thought that you would be the first one to get married.’

‘Me neither, I always thought that it would be James,’ Tristan chuckled. He and Teresa just got married three months ago. ‘Or you and Brad. Honestly, I can’t believe that he didn’t got down on his knees already.’

‘Believe me, he goes down on his knees regularly,’ Y/N said with a chuckle.

A few seconds passed until she realized what she said. Immediately, Y/N eyed Tristan and he looked at her with raised eyebrows. The look on his face made Y/N laugh.

‘Yeah, I didn’t really need to know that,’ Tristan mumbled, but he smiled.

‘I’m sorry, Tris,’ the woman said, still laughing. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

They walked down the hallway towards the open door. Another blond man was standing in the doorway and Y/N shrieked.

‘Connor!’ she said happily, and she ran into his arms.

‘Hey there,’ he greeted her, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. ‘It’s good to see you.’

‘Missed you, Con,’ Y/N mumbled.

‘Y/N!’ someone yelled.

She peaked over Connor his shoulder and she saw James. He stood in the kitchen with a cup in his hands.

‘Go,’ Connor said to her and he released her.

He walked towards Tristan and took one of the bags from him, while Y/N made her way into the apartment.

James put down his cup and he hugged Y/N tightly. ‘Hi, sweetheart.’

‘Hey, James,’ Y/N said, and she hugged him back.

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ he asked her. ‘I was just making some for lads.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Y/N nodded. ‘Thank you. How are you?’

‘Good!’ James replied and he took another mug from the cabinet. ‘I’m really glad to be home for the holidays.’

‘Same,’ she replied, and she took off her coat, scarf and gloves.

She hung her scarf and coat on the coatrack, and she put her gloves in a drawer in the hall.

‘Where do you want the bags, Y/N?’ Connor asked her.

‘In the kitchen, thank you, lads,’ Y/N replied.

‘Anytime, Y/N,’ Tristan said when he placed one bag in the kitchen. ‘Where is that man of yours? I thought you said something about kissing him.’

James and Connor laughed, while James handed the two lads and the woman a cup of tea.

‘He wanted to finish a part of the lyrics of For You,’ James said, and he took a seat at the kitchen island.

‘Oi, Brad!’ Connor yelled and he sat down next to James. ‘Your lady is home and she wants to snog you!’

‘Connor!’ Y/N scoffed. She started to unpack the groceries and within a second, Tristan helped her as well. He put everything on the counter, so that she could put everything in the cabinets. ‘Would you turn on the radio, James?’

Y/N turned around when the music filled the room and she began to put some cereals and biscuits in the cabinet, but then she felt two arms wrap around her waist. Y/N shrieked and almost bumped her head against the cabinet door.

‘I heard that someone wanted to snog me,’ someone whispered in her ear and she felt goosebumps.

She knew it was Brad, so she slowly closed the cabinet door and she turned around in his arms. There he stood, right in front of her, their chests were almost touching. His curly hair was a bit longer than the last time she saw him, and his eyes were sparkling.

‘Brad,’ she whispered, and she blinked a few times. ‘Hi.’

‘Hi, bab,’ Brad smiled, and he kissed her forehead. ‘I missed you.’

‘I missed you too,’ Y/N mumbled, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

She needed his touch and she needed his body against hers as close as possible. Brad chuckled and he pulled her even tighter in his grasp. Y/N put her nose in the crook of his neck and inhaled deeply, she needed to smell him. He smelled like home. With dislike, he let go of her body, so that he could place his hands on her cheeks. He smiled lovingly at her before kissing her softly. Y/N was melting. Melting for Brad and melting because of this kiss. She moved her hands to his hair, and she tugged it. That was one of the advantages of Brad’s longish hair. Out of reflex, he moaned quietly.

‘All right, lovebirds,’ James said, and he clapped his hands. ‘Knock it off or get a room.’

Brad released her lips and moved his hands from her cheeks to her hands. ‘I would love to take you to our bedroom.’

Y/N blushed, while Tristan choked on his tea. He heard two of his best friend talk about their sex life two times within 15 minutes. Brad ignored it and helped Y/N putting away the last of the groceries. After that, they also sat down at the kitchen island, a cup of tea in their hands.

‘So, how was work?’ Brad asked his girlfriend and he held her hand.

Y/N blushed again and squeezed his hand a bit. ‘The same old. Very busy, I had to take care of a lot of things because of the holidays. But, I managed.’

‘Proud of you, bab,’ Brad said, and he kissed her temple.

‘How was the rest of the tour?’ Y/N asked curiously, and she sipped from her tea. ‘I read on social media that the fans loved it. But how about you? I’m sorry I couldn’t come.’

‘It’s okay, love,’ her boyfriend reassured her. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Yeah, we really appreciate it every time that you do come,’ Tristan said.

‘We don’t expect you to follow us around the world,’ Connor added with a wink.

‘I would like it,’ Brad said jokingly. ‘You have your job, I respect that. They respect that.’

‘One hundred percent,’ James confirmed. ‘But the tour was really nice. We saw so many nice things and places and cities. We tried some local food. It was great. But we are also happy to have some free time. To spend the holidays with our families.’

‘That’s great to hear,’ Y/N smiled softly. ‘Are you all going home for Christmas?’

‘I’m leaving tomorrow evening,’ Connor said. ‘Lucy and I will have a Christmas brunch tomorrow at my place and after that she will go to her family and I will go to mine.’

‘I’m leaving tomorrow morning,’ James told them. ‘Kirstie and I will visit her family tomorrow evening and on the 25th, we will visit mine.’

‘Teresa and I will stay here,’ Tristan sipped from his tea. ‘Our families will visit us, so no traveling this time. What about you?’

‘We will visit Brad’s family the 25th,’ Y/N informed the lads.

‘Tomorrow evening, Y/N’s family will come here,’ Brad said.

Everyone nodded and it was silent for a few seconds. But then an idea popped into Y/N’s head.

‘Can we do an early Christmas dinner tonight? Here?’ she suggested, and she stood up. ‘Lucy, Kirstie and Teresa are of course welcome. I can make lasagna or pasta? We have enough drinks. Oi, that reminds me, I got a Christmas present from work and it’s some fancy champagne.’

Brad stared at his girlfriend with a big smile on his face. She was talking to them so enthusiastically. Her whole face lit up and she was making gestures with her hands.

‘What do you think, Bradley?’ she asked him sweetly.

Brad laughed. She only used his full name when she wanted something from him. But because of her, he got an idea on his own and it would be great. ‘Oh, I see what you’re doing. Actually, I agree with you. We can host this dinner.’

‘I love that idea,’ James stated. ‘I’m going to call Kirstie.’

He stood up, took his phone and walked away from the kitchen island.

‘Lucy will love this,’ Connor said, and he also took his phone.

Tristan looked a bit doubtful. ‘The idea is wonderful, but it’s Teresa’s birthday today. We wanted to spend it together tonight... but I can ask her.’

‘It’s okay, Tris,’ Y/N reassured him.

‘No, no, I will ask her,’ Tristan said, and he got his phone too.

The three boys were calling their partners and Y/N leant against Brad. He had wrapped his arms around her waist and her head laid against Brad’s chest.

‘I love you,’ Brad told her, and he pressed a kiss on the top of head. ‘You know that, right?’

‘I do,’ Y/N whispered, and she turned her head to look at him. ‘You know that I love you too, don’t you?’

Brad smiled softly. ‘I do. I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you.’

‘Brad,’ Y/N mumbled, and she stroked his cheek. ‘Where is this coming from?’

‘Nowhere,’ he muttered, and he kissed her nose. ‘I love you.’

‘Love you too,’ she said with a smile and she kissed him. ‘And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you. Just so you know.’

Brad grinned and he press a kiss on her forehead.

‘I wish you gave me kisses like that,’ Tristan joked, and he joined the couple again.

‘Well, come here then,’ Brad challenged him.

Of course, Tristan accepted the challenge and he ran towards Brad. He jumped on his lap and Brad started to laugh. He cupped Tristan’s cheeks and gave him a kiss on the forehead as well. Connor and James were laughing in the back and Y/N couldn’t contain her laughter anymore.

‘You’re such a man-child, Tris,’ she said. ‘Unbelievable.’

‘You’re just jealous that he put his divine lips on my forehead,’ Tristan mocked her with a grin.

Y/N watched him, and she was thinking if she could make another sexual joke in front of Tristan. She eyed Brad doubtfully, but then she saw the playful look in James and Connor their eyes. A smirk spread across her face and Tristan instantly knew the mistake that he made.

‘I’m not jealous of that,’ Y/N said with a smirk. ‘Especially not since Brad puts his divine lips on every party of my body without even asking.’

It took a couple of seconds before all hell broke loose. James and Connor shrieked with laughter, Tristan opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out and Brad choked on his tea.

‘All right,’ Y/N clapped in her hands, trying to change the subject. ‘What did the women say? Are we having dinner together?’

‘Yeah, Kirstie was thrilled, and she is on her way with extra alcohol,’ James announced.

‘Lucy as well,’ Connor said. ‘She is brining some snack for after dinner.’

‘Teresa will be here in fifteen minutes,’ Tristan told them. ‘With cake.’

Y/N clapped in her hands. ‘Yes! This will be a great night.’

The boys chuckled and Brad gave his girlfriend yet again a kiss on her forehead.

Fifteen minutes later, the three women had arrived. Everyone wished Teresa a happy birthday and after they all were talking and laughing to and with each other. The lads had set the table for Y/N and she had started with preparing dinner. They had chosen for the lasagna and now Y/N and Connor where preparing it.

An hour passed and dinner was served. Brad placed the lasagna on the dining table, while Y/N and Lucy poured everyone a drink. Tristan cut the lasagna in eight equal parts and Teresa gave everyone a plate, while Kirstie lit the candles.

‘What would you like to drink, Teresa?’ Y/N asked the brown-haired girl.

‘What are you drinking? Champagne?’ Teresa said and Y/N nodded. ‘I would like some of that as well.’

Y/N poured it in, and she watched the girl. ‘So no love baby yet?’

She chuckled and shook her head. ‘No. We’ve talked about it and we want children, but not right now. He has the band and I have my own career. Maybe in a couple of years. First we want to enjoy each other.’

‘Well said,’ Y/N complimented her and she raised her glass.

‘Speech, Y/N!’ Connor cheered and not a second later, Tristan and James cheered with him.

Seeing as she was the only one still standing, she rolled her eyes.

She raised her glass again and looked at everyone at the table. ‘Thank you all for coming here on such short notice. I want to thank all of you for this last year. We all had our ups and downs, but together, we made the best of it. I think the high light of this year was Tristan and Teresa their wedding. I wish you all the best and many and many years. Also, a shout out to the lads with their amazing careers and their great tour they just finished. Next year, you will rock again. A shout out to us ladies with the careers of our own. I don’t know what else to say. Thank you for being my friend and thank you Bradley. Thank you for believing in me, encouraging me, dreaming with me, sticking together with and for loving me. I love you all and happy holidays. Cheers!’

They raised their glasses. ‘Cheers!’

Teresa had tears in her eyes, and she wiped them away quickly. James had his arm wrapped around Kirstie her shoulder and Connor and Lucy were holding hands. Brad pulled Y/N down and he kissed her temple.

‘Let’s dig in!’ Y/N said. ‘Otherwise it will be cold.’

The group laughed and they started eating. They ate, drank, laughed, gossiped and enjoyed each other’s presence.

After dinner and desert, the group moved from the kitchen to the living room. Everyone helped cleaning the kitchen, so now they were seated in the living room with a new drink.

‘Tris, you told me that you were working on a new song,’ Teresa said, and she sipped on her white wine.

‘Yeah,’ Lucy chimed in. ‘I heard about this song as well. Isn’t it called For You?’

‘Didn’t you write it, Brad?’ Kirstie said.

‘Eh, yeah,’ Brad mumbled, and he scratched the back of his head. ‘We’re still working on some lyrics, but I finished the chorus this afternoon.’

‘We finished the instrumental parts too,’ Connor told the ladies.

‘Why don’t you play the chorus for the ladies, Brad?’ Tristan suggested.

‘I heard that you wrote it for Y/N,’ Teresa said with a smirk.

Brad blushed heavily and Y/N looked confused at her boyfriend. What were they talking about? Did she miss something?

‘He did,’ James confirmed.

‘Would you play the chorus for us, babe?’ Y/N asked shyly.

Brad his face lit up. ‘Yeah. Let’s go to the music room.’

The group moved again, and they followed Brad to the music room. He took a seat behind the piano, while the others sat down on the couch or on beanbags. Tristan had dragged Y/N with him to the couch and she was sandwiched between him and Connor.

‘I will start with the pre-chorus followed by the chorus,’ Brad said, and he cleared his throat.

He had a perfect view on his girlfriend and vice versa. Y/N held her breath, she was nervous for him in some way. Brad placed his hands on the piano, and he started to play. Y/N couldn’t get used to hearing him play the piano and don’t get her started on his singing.

‘All my friends were lost,’ he started to sing, and he search for Y/N her eyes. ‘But I was found. Then I threw it away. When we walked on the hallowed ground.’

Tears were forming in Y/N her eyes. She knew the deeper meaning of the lyrics already. A couple of years ago, right before she and Brad moved in together, they broke up because of their work. Y/N couldn’t deal with Brad his busy schedule and that they didn’t see each other that much. Brad had the same problem and he couldn’t handle that Y/N choose her education over him. But after a couple of months they saw each other again and they talked about it. They both admitted that they were still in love with one and other and that they would do anything for the other.

‘But I will run back into your arms,’ Brad continued. ‘No matter where we are. If you need me too. If you still got some space in your heart. I will tear this world apart. For you.’

Slowly the music died, and it was silent. Brad and Y/N held eye contact and it was clear that Y/N was crying. She loved the lyrics and the music and she loved the fact that Brad wrote it for her.

‘That was beautiful, Brad,’ Teresa said.

‘Yeah, it was... woah,’ Kirstie added and she too had tears in her eyes.

Lucy also looked at him with an approving look in her eyes.

‘Thanks, ladies,’ Brad said, but he could only focus on his girlfriend.

Tristan rubbed Y/N her back and Connor held her hand.

‘Y/N?’ Brad asked with a small voice. ‘Bab?’

Y/N smiled through the tears and she nodded as well. ‘It was so beautiful, babe. Especially the meaning behind it. And the fact that you wrote it for me. I don’t know what to say. I love you.’

The boys grinned and Brad stepped away from the piano. He made her way towards his girl, who was also standing. Brad took her hands in his hands and he placed a kiss on the top of one of her hands.

‘I love you too, Y/N, more than you can ever imagine,’ he said with a soft smile.

Y/N heard something behind her, so she turned around. She saw that Teresa took her seat next to Tristan and that Lucy was sitting on Connor’s lap. James and Kirstie had dragged their beanbag closer to the rest and all the couples were holding hands. Y/N giggled, and she turned back to look at Brad. She heard gasps behind her, but those noises didn’t make sense until she saw Brad. He was kneeling in front of her.

‘Brad?’ she asked with a trembling voice.

He sat on one knee and he stared at the woman in front of him lovingly. ‘Y/N Y/L/N. You are the love of my life and like I said earlier, I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life without you. You are the light in my darkness. You make every unpleasant thing a bit more bearable. You make me happy by just smiling. And I am so proud of you and everything that you have accomplished. I love you so freaking much. You still make me nervous, even after five years of dating. I had a whole speech prepared, but I don’t know what to say anymore, because I actually wanted to ask you this question privately on Christmas Eve. But this is even more perfect, in the presence of our closest friends, our family. Y/N, will you make me the happiest man on this earth, will you marry me?’

Brad opened the velvet box with shaking hands, and he revealed a beautiful diamond ring. Tears were running down Y/N’s cheeks and she looked at Brad with a surprised gaze.

‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Yes! YES! Of course, yes, I want to marry you!’

Brad let out a breath and he stood up quickly. ‘Thank goodness.’

Behind Y/N, the lads were cheering and clapping, and the women were celebrating. Brad shoved the ring on Y/N’s ring finger, and he kissed her hand, yet again. Now, Y/N could see the tears in Brad’s eyes. Brad wiped her tears away with his thumb and he kissed her. Their kiss was full of passion and love and lust. Her arms were tightly wrapped around his neck and his arms were around her waist. He lifted her up and twirled her around. Y/N smiled in the kiss and she wished she didn’t have to withdraw. On the other hand, she wouldn’t leave him alone later tonight. Then, she had him all to herself.

‘I love you,’ Brad said to her and he pressed a kiss against her forehead, for the umpteenth time. She loved those kisses.

‘I love you too,’ Y/N said with glistering eyes.

Their intimate moment was disrupted by the lads and ladies, because the band embraced Brad in a group hug. They were jumping up and down, while the ladies hugged Y/N.

This was the happiest moment of her life so far. She couldn’t wait what the new year had to bring.

#brad simpson fluff #bradley simpson fluff #the vamps fluff #brad simpson x reader #brad simpson reader fluff #brad simpson #bradley simpson #brad simpson y/n fluff

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jerepars · 3 years

Text

Throwing Copper Extended Chapter Notes

1 / 5 Reinventing Your Exit

Hyperlinks appear in blue (underlined on mobile). The story is posted here.

Teresa could see the stress James carried in his jaw and the dark circles under his eyes. She recognized it because she’d seen it in herself before, the restlessness and slight delirium, when she wasn’t sleeping.

The first sentence is an ode to the opening lyrics of Remo Drive’s “I’m My Own Doctor”: I’ve been self-diagnosing all of my problems, carrying all my stress in my jaw.

David Lee Autry was one of many aliases James had over the last few years but one he maintained with close attention because the so-called Autry had a credit card in his name. James hadn’t exactly had time to pack a bag when he broke out of a CIA facility to warn Teresa about impending doom. He showed up in New Orleans in a stolen car, the clothes on his back, contents of his pockets, and a bullet lodged in his chest.

David Lee Autry is the name written on James’ fake passport in 2x03 (around 20:54 in the episode); Pete from the militia group reads it.

James felt a lump in this throat. Whether it was because there was something very domestic about letting someone else do his laundry or because he worried the warning he’d come with wasn’t enough to protect Teresa every time she walked out the door, he wasn’t sure. But he swallowed his feelings down and didn’t put up an argument to her laundry suggestion. He appreciated the clothing George had lent him, but oversized tracksuits and brightly patterned button-down shirts were far from James’ aesthetic. And he absolutely refused to put on King George-branded attire, aerodynamic or not, so he’d been going commando while waiting for David Lee Autry’s online order to show up at Teresa’s PO Box.

When Teresa and James meet King George for the first time in 2x01, we get the lovely scene where he yells for someone to get Teresa a King George bikini (1:12) and later points to the speedo he’s wearing, saying “aerodynamic as shit, will make you feel alive, I trust” (1:18). And, like, who am I to not bring up aerodynamic speedos and going commando?

The doctor had come back and after patching him up, again, prescribed bed rest for the patient who seemed to be doing everything to keep aggravating his body rather than help it get better. Teresa had been furious, asking if he had a death wish after all, so he’d spent the last two days bored out of his mind in bed from inactivity, barely sleeping and reading Faulkner. Or maybe he’d barely slept because he was reading Faulkner. Either way, James knew it best to tread lightly where Teresa was concerned.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t sit in a chair at a desk though. Anything would be an improvement over laying on his back and waiting for his thoughts to float up to the ceiling.

So, listen, since they’re in Louisiana, and given their close proximity to matters of death and dying, if James is going to be reading anything at all, it just feels fitting that he’d be reading Southern literature, specifically William Faulkner. As I Lay Dying is an obvious choice, but personally I think he’d be reading The Sound and the Fury. Not that it matters.

The last sentence in the second paragraph is a reference to “Dreamspace” by Glacier Veins, and the line that goes I’m on my back so I float up to the ceiling to feel different.

Teresa had cried herself to sleep that night thinking about everything that could have gone wrong, if he hadn’t made it in time, or if he had but if it had been too late for him. It wasn’t just anyone—it was James, and he would’ve spent his last dying breath to tell her to chase safety if that was what it took.

Never did I think I’d manage to make a nod to and with my one last gasping breath I’d apologize for bleeding on your shirt from “You’re So Last Summer” by Taking Back Sunday. To be here, in 2020, as an adult, and finding a way to make that reference is...strange yet somehow satisfying at the same time. Also, the chapter title is in reference to a song off the Underoath album They’re Only Chasing Safety, and it looks like I found a way to work that in as well. I don’t know why my musical inspiration for this version of Jeresa seems to come from music that peaked in the early 2000s?

There was a time when James had been her mentor to the underworld, always keeping her from sinking to the bottom, even when he’d been the one who had to make the tough calls and take the brutal actions. She didn’t think he’d ever be able to rid himself of that balancing act, of showing her the ropes but strongly advising her to untether herself from the line completely, to walk away. Teresa could still hear his voice in the back of her mind, from the night after the party at the Birdman’s when he told her in a matter-of-fact fashion why he’d sent her in: your job was to learn. Since then, and especially in his absence, it seemed there’d been only tough lessons to learn and bitter pills to swallow.

I have so much appreciation for the early dynamic between James and Teresa. The car scene in 1x05 outside the warehouse is a highlight because when Teresa gets out, all indignant, she thinks she has the last word (0:15), and James comes right back at her (0:21) to tell her how it is. He’s kind of smug about it. I love it.

And I know that there’s trouble all the time. But it’s interesting that when they get away from this dynamic (especially in S4 where it doesn’t exist, because James isn’t there), it seems that’s where the real trouble comes in.

The balance that they create is delicate.

They were so far removed from the time he’d said I’ve got a plan for a future and it doesn’t include getting killed by crossfire meant for you. But he’d chosen crossfire—sought it out, really—that was what his future devolved into. And like he’d said back then, she was trouble. More and more, Teresa had begun to wonder if there was anything the James she’d first met in Dallas wasn’t right about.

I know this scene in 1x04 is often reblogged and quoted. After watching it several times, my only question is if it’s just the lighting of the scene or did they forget to apply James’ tattoos on set that day? I can’t watch it or see gifs of it now without that bothering me.

It only took Teresa a day to get the cat to venture inside and it only took George a few minutes to declare its name: Peach. God damn, we got ourselves a grumpy cat on our hands, George had exclaimed as she sunk her claws into his flesh before escaping from his embrace like a magic trick, she’s got the same personality as Giant Peach over here. She’s little Peach.

So I guess I rolled with that bts picture of Peter from Alice’s story and wrote the cat into the story. I bet this cat makes zero appearance in S5 and at no point do any of them ever have a pet but I did it anyway. The first thought when I saw it was “Peach and Giant Peach”. Would James be a cat guy? I think he would.

George suspected there was much more to the exchange than the parting words voiced out loud, noticing there was a sense of thanks in her eyes, too. The looks Teresa and James gave each other exuded the tension between them and always made it feel at least ten degrees hotter than it actually was in any room. They had their own way of communicating that only made sense to them, that no one else was privy to. There were better odds throwing copper down a wishing well than trying to decode their language of silence.

The story title comes from “Throwing Copper” by Touché Amoré. Like throwing copper in a well. You’ll never know if wishes work only time can tell.

This is not really the part that made me decide to name the story after the song, but I was still happy to find a place for it in the narration.

“Think you might need to reinvent your exit strategy, Giant Peach,” George said with a frown, nearly in disbelief with himself over what he was about to reveal to James.

“Reinvent?”

“Reinvent. Rethink. As in don’t make one. Methinks the last thing Little Principessa needs right now is more people leaving.” George spoke without his usual puns, so James didn’t have to question if he was being serious.

As mentioned earlier, the chapter title is from a song off of They’re Only Chasing Safety, “Reinventing Your Exit”. I think this might be the biggest Underoath song there ever was? Just listening to this makes me feel 14 again. This was such a gateway to other music that I ended up loving.

Teresa’s evolving thirst for vengeance, to even the score, was foreign to James. It was part of Teresa that scared James a bit. Before he left Phoenix, he’d seen tiny red flashes of her anger, questionable decisions so far removed from when she’d stood within shooting distance on a train car and said we can do a different way, where none of us has to die. Her vision had seemed clear then; she wanted to move product without the same bloodshed as Camila. When James worked for Teresa, he’d never wanted her to lose herself in the business, and never thought she should stay in the business—those were things she’d said she never wanted, too. But being at the top in the business, like she was, it changed people. It was inevitable. It pulled them down into the fire until there was nothing left but scorched earth.

I get the sense that we are never ever getting this kind of James in canon, who is not totally cool with the part of Teresa that she shuts off in order to be queen. I think we probably get another yes man. And for canon, for the sake of Teresa being the queen, I get it. That’s fine. But, in any fic, I always find myself trying to humanize characters and not just leave them as archetypes. The reason this story got so long, the reason there was no way I was going to get through it in 2500 words or less (lol, who am I kidding, I can’t write anything of that length), is because I realized this is the James I want to explore. I want to see him push back at Teresa and not just let go, not just get shut down. Because Teresa is far from perfect and she doesn’t always make the right decisions (tbh, I think she makes a lot of dumb decisions). It’s a delicate balance between the two of them that gives the best outcome.

James’ thoughts in this first chapter are the setup for the exploration of the Jeresa dynamic in the next two chapters.

James used to see a blinding light when he looked right into Teresa’s eyes, a moral compass of sorts, always willing him to choose the humanity he’d buried so deep. But now it was light mixed with dark, integrated too well to be separated. Now looking into her eyes was like staring at a flickering light, not sure if it was going to illuminate the cave or burn out.

Here is the part of “Throwing Copper” that resonated with me for this whole thing: Like staring at a flickering light, you don't know when It'll burn out, or how much time you have left to let it light up your life.

So relevant.

I don’t want to lose you. Maybe that had been a proclamation of love in her own way, and maybe that was the last honest thing Teresa had ever said to James, after she’d realized she’d been wrong to doubt him. Those words had gripped him and followed him. He’d found solace and comfort in them even after he left, because he’d wanted nothing more than to stay, but he left to protect her because of what Devon had hanging over his head.

One of the lines in Tegan and Sara’s “This is Everything” is baby, this is the last honest look I’ll ever give. But by the end of the song it turns into baby, this is the last honest love I’ll ever give.

Teresa and James so obviously love each other but they never say that out loud, right? I feel like that moment in 3x12 when she says “I don’t want to lose you” (around 23:05 of the episode) is the closest we’ve gotten thus far. There’s a silent moment before she says it, and a silent moment after, before James answers and I swear all of it is so telling. The silence. The way they look at each other. The body language. Everything. They know.

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