#basically everything that makes siren noises

[gimmic-ky]

Seen n heard a lot more police lately it makes me nervous ughh. Idk if the sirens rn r police I think they are?

#i live close to like #basically everything that makes siren noises #firefighters (forgor word) hospital policestation

[p3sephone]

Taken. (Dark! Winter soldier)

Summary: you work for Hydra, until one day everything goes for the worst, and you find yourself in the hands of the Winter Soldier. You think you'll be dead soon, but the asset has other plans for you.

Warnings: violence, macabre atmosphere, anxiety, begging, a little chasing, winter soldier being winter soldier. This is +18 only, minors are absolutely NOT welcome. This character does not belong to me. This is part 1, there will be part 2 soon, but anyway tell me how you feel about this. Also, requests are currently open. <3

You shouldn't have seen it. Hell, you didn't have to see any of this. A second earlier you walked while mentally insulting yourself for choosing those very uncomfortable heels for go to work, the next second you had fallen to the floor and your paperwork was all scattered around the flooring. The scene that unfolded before you was surreal. The sirens didn't stop ringing, armed men emerged from everywhere and the worst thing is that you could see how terrified they were. You tried to get back on your feet in order to get to the end of the corridor: once those soldiers would have stopped going towards that junction on the left, you could have gone straight.

Elevator, stairs, the important thing was now became getting out of that place. You knew full well what those sirens meant and you also knew that no matter the number of soldiers sent to die, he wouldn't stop until when he wouldn't have massacred everyone. Besides, how can you blame him?

You had always told yourself that in basically you only dealt with small practices, you were a very small operator, insignificant and not of certainly on the upper floors. You had never seen him, not once, and you were even so small and insignificant that you were not required to have information about the winter soldier. You simply knew that he existed, you knew that he was there and that he could never leave his cage. That is until he actually managed to get out of his cage. Your heart jumped in your throat as you decided to remove your heels, grab your car keys and the your phone, leaving everything else on the floor. You knew you wouldn't set foot here again inside anyway.

You let a shaky sigh escape your mouth as you did raised yourself carefully, walking towards the corridor. Going back wasn't an option, it was the longest route ever and the soldier would certainly have reached you sooner. If you wanted to survive, you had to take the risk. You swallowed nervously without looking at what was unfolding to your left, walking to fast foot. Your plan was going well, until you heard a scream inhuman.

Then you made the first mistake, a cheeky little mistake: it was just the tail of the eye, while your feet were still moving, but you knew from the moment you since you could never forget the look of that insignificant soldier while he was trying to resist the asset. He already looked like he was about to die, he was too wounded, yet it wasn't enough. It was as if the man was taking his time to savor the light going away from his eyes. That split second was enough for you to understand that you had to move forward, even at the cost of getting high feel. After all, the serum had made him far too powerful and alert, he would even hear you if you had walked on tiptoe. So you decided to run: you ran, you caught up the elevator and pressed the button. You saw the doors closing and that face. The Winter Soldier he was halfway down the corridor, the swinging lights and the surreal noise of the sirens making it still scarier than he already was. You were so caught up in your survival that you didn't even notice the tears they fell from your face. You started to sob softly, looking at his face: it was over, he had seen you and would come get you soon. But maybe, maybe you still could escape. There was still hope for you and you could start over, not in this place. You took your chance, as the doors opened you darted towards the emergency entrance. The main one would be too mundane, you thought, so you looked for the nearest exit to your car. The Winter Soldier was fast, but you hoped he wasn't even faster than a car and with full gas. You almost cried with joy when you saw her in the full parking lots, your feet hurt from the small scratches caused by the still wet asphalt afternoon rain. Then your smile fell and the world fell apart. You saw it, literally next to your car. It was there, waiting for you and the only thing what you could do was remain on the spot immobile and paralyzed. At least until he started taking quick steps towards you. You started crying even harder, and even though it was useless, you started praying and pleading for someone to come and save you. You've been relegated with your own body, the only option seemed to be to return to the laboratories and try to hide, but by then the time had already passed. He grabbed your arm tightly, pulling you towards him and forcing you to look into his eyes with your other vibranium hand. For some sick reason he wanted you to look at him the way others looked at him before they died.

“Please, I didn't do anything to you, I had nothing to do with this-" your pleas fell flat into the void as he tightened her grip on your arm, making you yelp in pain. "Liar." It was true, you were definitely lying. Even if you had nothing directly to do with him, you had always agreed to work with such people. It was your choice from the beginning. "You saw me that day. You looked at me with pity and didn't deign me a single help,nothing." he muttered tightly under his breath, and you could see from his cold look how cold he was enraged. It happened a few days after they hired you, you remember. He was battered and his they had just wiped gus memory, and you couldn't help but wish things went differently, but you would never be able to change things. How could he expect you to do something about it? "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." you could only murmur as you silently begged him to save you. The tears fell relentlessly on your face and on his vibranium hand, which suddenly released its grip. You could only breathe for a few small seconds of relief. Your arm was still in his grip though. "I couldn't stop thinking… about that look. Every time they erased my memory, they tortured me and drained me of all energy, there was always that damned look. I can even see it now, in your eyes. You little hypocrite." you could feel the venom in his his voice, but there was something else. It was something more, macabre, you didn't understand it. You wanted to keep apologizing, but something told you there wouldn't be any point. His eyes they continued to study you in every detail, as if he wanted to memorize you with the certainty that this time he wouldn't forget you. No, now that he thought about it, the Winter Soldier would even better. "Where do you live?" The question crushed you. "What?" you replied almost inaudibly, but he heard it. Taken a handful of your hair and he pulled hard in response, making you yelp in pain. "Your house, we will go there and hide for a few days. Then you will come with me." He was methodical, and that scared you deeply. You started sobbing again softly, thinking about the trouble you've gotten yourself into just with this job. You have looked the man in front of you fearful, and you could finally see the macabre now: his pleasure in his look at seeing you reduced like that. It was his doing and it was entirely his revenge, and you you would have suffered until he said enough.

#dark bucky barnes #dark marvel #dark avengers #dark winter soldier #dark bucky #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark winter soldier x reader

[pray4saint]

I didn’t see anything about you not writing for plus sized! reader, so could i request something?

If you do write for it could i request a plus size!reader that wears glasses with either James or Sirius? Basically like reader is their tutor and they have crushes on each other and then it kinda escalates into smut then like confessions?

If you don’t feel comfortable writing for that, i could totally request something else!^^

i love your work!^^

-🦥

sirius falling for & fucking his tutor

masterlist & descrip. rated r. 16+. 2.5k words. fem!reader. plus sized!reader. tutor!reader. p in v sex. unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it). semi-public sex. creampie. porn with small plot.

a/n. oh absolutely, everyone should be included if they can be and im here to help!!

time was ticking by. sirius was supposed to meet you in the library ten minutes ago. maybe he was just ignoring the professor's instruction because he wanted to. just then, speak of the devil, sirius black made an entrance, pushing the doors of the library open and making noise while doing it. the librarian shushed him and he rolled his eyes, his walk full of sarcasm and confidence as he strode his way to the table you were sitting at.

tearing yourself out of the trance of watching the beautiful man staring down at you, you spat out the first words to come to mind. ”i was beginning to think you wouldn't show up.”

it came out snarkier than intended, but it made his lips twitch up into a smirk. ”awh c'mon, do you really have so little faith in me?” he gave his retort, pulling out the chair across from you and dragging it right up next to you. he sat himself down with the anti-studying attitude he was known for and manspread, pressing his leg right up against your opposite.

when you'd accepted the task from your professor, you didn't expect the close quarters to bother you so much. hunched over the table, you could hear his heart beating close to you, his hot breath on your neck and along your jaw, his leg nudging yours every now and then. but of course, there were breaks, where he'd make jokes and stress you out, joking about the answer to an equation even though it was wrong and then not listen to your explanation.

”gods sirius you are insufferable!” you weren't quite screaming, more so whisper-yelling. ”this work is insufferable..” he'd mutter and it was difficult to hear. you were just trying to help him and he was doing everything in his power to not to accept it. some strange sense of confidence washed over you, perhaps fueled by your frustration with him and the frustration growing between your legs his closeness. reaching over to him, you took his jaw in your hand and turned his gaze. sirius' eyes conveyed shock to your action, and without a stutter you told him, ”d'ya wanna try that again?”

he looked almost scared, staring into your eyes while you searched his. ”uh- i don't know?” you kind of threw his jaw away from you, mumbling an almost incoherent, ”unbelievable.” you moved your pencil around on the paper absent-mindedly.

sirius took a minute to collect himself. he wasn't used to being talked down to. it made his tummy flip and blood to rush to his dick. for awhile, he tried to push it all away, but the feeling in his pants was making it hard for him to focus.

”so then, the answer is..?” you turned your face to his, pushing your glasses up your nose in just the slightest. sirius' face was covered by his hair and it was obvious his gaze was downward. ”sirius, c'mon, can't you listen for one second?” still nothing. your hand moved to the top of his head and wrapped in his curls, you turned his head.

and gods was it a sight. his eyes were low, dark, like a siren's, and his cheeks flushed, lips parted just slightly.

”sirius, are you okay?” your concern for him made him feel a little bad about how far his mind had wandered. ”yeah, m'good.” despite his response and dopey smile, you didn't believe him. with a roll of your eyes, you closed the books in front of you both. ”you're a bad liar.” you clicked your tongue, ”i can't believe you lie like that to the teachers and get away with it.”

sirius' leg pulled away from yours quickly, but it was because his entire body moved, looking around the library which had long since emptied of students and faculty.

turned back to face you, sirius' body language had changed. he was fully turned to engage with you, his knees at either end of your upper leg, one at your knee and the other at your glute. ”y/n i'm sorry i haven't been listening but i kind of have a problem.”

”sirius i am not getting you out of some other trouble-” he cut you off. ”not that kind of problem.” he didn't say anything else, simply glanced down at his crotch. your eyes followed his gaze and you gasped, looking at the tent in his pants and then around the library to see if anyone was around. nobody was.

”uhm, sirius this is highly inappropriate–” you try to compose yourself, although the situation warms the previous frustration between your legs and you begin to rub your thighs together. ”i- y/n i know i really don't need the pep talk. i just need a minute to go wank off.” sirius begins to rise from his seat and you turn your head, trying not to stare directly at his hard-on.

still, you grab at his hand. ”sirius no! by the time you're done the library will be closed and we'll have to come back to this tomorrow!” your voice isn't even that high, but you still wince at the expected yell of a librarian that never comes. ”then what am i supposed to do? i can't focus.”

the words come out without thought and too fast to stop them, ”fuck me.” oops. ”what..?”

”you heard me sirius.” you couldn't stop talking, the words wouldn't stay in. the boy who stood looking down at you thought it over in his head, and all the while his eyes never left yours. ”to bloody hell with it c'mere.” and all of the sudden you were plucked from your chair as if it was nothing and you had to push your glasses up again.

now stood upright with sirius' arms around your middle and his lips dangerously close to yours, you were suddenly coming to terms with what you'd told him to do. ”are you sure about this, sweetheart?” one of his hands made its way to your cheek, and you fought the need to melt into his touch. with a single nod, sirius had permission for his lips to connect with yours.

he pulled your body impossibly close to his with just the one hand. his lips moved along yours, rhythm well-kept. sirius was the first to pull away, his lips moving from yours to your cheek and trailing down to your jaw and neck. you were sure from the pressure on your neck from sirius' mouth that there'd be dark spots sooner or later.

you gasped out a couple of times while sirius' hands travelled south, from your middle, down past and over your posterior, just to the plush backsides of your thighs to him lifting you up and onto the table. you never realised just how strong he really was under all those layers, which he was losing, piece by piece. ”well don't just sit there, take it off.” it was clear he was talking about your top and with fidgety hands, you pulled your vest off, followed by your house tie and collared shirt.

”wow, you're beautiful darling.” he wanted to say more, about how absolutely gorgeous you were and how often he’d dreamed of this but he couldn’t seem to get himself to voice what he wanted to tell you. sirius’ hands wandered without a thought, running over your tummy and between your breasts, resting on your shoulders. ”sirius if you don't hurry up we're gonna get caught for being in here after hours.”

something in the way you said that, to hurry up, made sirius wild. quickly getting both his and your pants off, he pulled you to the edge of the table. ”fuck, dove i don't have a condom.” you sigh out loud, there isn't much that can be done anymore and you've already gotten this far. ”it's fine c'mon we're gonna run out of time.” in response, sirius pulls his boxers down to let his dick spring up.

holding his cock in hand, he tapped the head against your clit and you whined. you didn't quite toss, but you set your glasses aside, afraid of where they'd go if they fell off. ”siri c'mon,” you were going to continue your sentence but the feeling of sirius rubbing his cock against your folds stopped you, and him pushing himself into your pussy made you gasp. he was just so gentle with it. it wasn't slow, but he made sure you were okay with every inch he pushed inside until he'd bottomed out.

sirius starts slow, dragging his strokes almost painfully slow. ”siri?” you ask, putting your hands on his shoulders. ”hm?”

”faster please.” you didn't need to tell him twice, his hips landed against against your ass with a faster pace. sirius loved the way you tried to hide your moans in his neck while his hands pulled and rubbed at every curve and roll on your body. ”feels so- feels so good doll.” he raked his eyes up and down your body, god you looked so pretty wrapped around his cock.

the longer sirius kept his strokes in a steady rhythm, the less time it took for you to slowly lose concentration on the clock. you knew you didn’t have much time left in the library, but you didn’t think this would happen either, since it seemed to be something that only ever happened when you closed your eyes to sleep at night.

sirius couldn't seem to stop his hands from roaming your body, almost as if he was memorising it, committing it to memory. all while you let your hands wander his back, and his neck, and his hair, oh, his hair. he loved how you tugged and pulled his hair, drawing out whines to match the moans he pulled from you.

”y'feel so good around my cock sweetheart.” his voice in tandem with the feeling of your walls being stretched was beginning to get the feeling in your tummy to be wound up. you couldn't get much out between whines and whimpers, but you did your best, ”sirius,” you breathed heavily over sirius' shoulder, ”y'shouldn't say things– y'shouldn't– fuck! say things like that..” sirius snaps his hips against your own, over and over again to punctuate his words. ”but it's only. the fuck– fuckin' truth love.” the nickname only drove you further to climax.

”m'close, m'so close.” you weren't sure if sirius heard you, but you needed to say it, you weren't sure how much you'd be able to say in the next few minutes. he whispered close to your ear, ”i've got ya'dove. i'm right behind'ya,” his breath fanned heavily and heavenly against your skin, ”go on and cum. cum on my cock for me.” perhaps it was his voice, or the lewdness of the words, or a mix, but it got you, forcing you over the edge, ripping a rather pornographic moan out of you. despite how much your legs began to tremble, sirius kept his hips moving, although they were beginning to stutter, and you had only one thing on your mind, getting sirius to finish. just as he did only a minute or so earlier, you leaned in clsoe to his ear, hands tangled in his hair and whispered. ”siri.. cum inside.” the boy pulled back to look at you blissfully fucked out before him. he cocks his head just slightly to the side and you smile, all dopey. ”godric, you're gonna be the death of me..” he grips harder at your hips, the skin like puddy in his hands while the movement in his hips becomes even more unsteady and he's pressing harder against you until he just stops, and you begin to feel his warm seed pile against your walls.

slowly, the boy in front of you, pulls out, panting like a dog, just as much as you're sure you are yourself.

the two of you spend the next five minutes regathering yourselves; returning clothes to your bodies, fixing each other's hair, sirius returning your glasses to your face with a smile. ”suppose i looked a bit blurry for a bit, didn't i?” you laugh, ”didn't really matter, i wasn't too focused on seeing anything.” sirius laughs in response, although the way the tips of his ears turn pink betray his fluster.

”sirius, what time is it?” you're pushing his tie back up to straighten it. that would look strange to his roommates, his tie is never in perfect condition. he glances up at the clock behind you, ”past time for any students to still be here. guess we were lucky to not have been caught, huh?” he smirks, and now it's your turn to blush red. ”shut up.” you shove sirius' bag into his arms and he grunts while you begin to walk towards the exit of the library.

he's quick to catch up with you. ”y/n, can i ask you a question?” your eyes remain ahead of you, mind mostly focused on not getting caught out of your dorm this late, although there doesn't seem to be any faculty or students in sight throughout the halls. ”go ahead.”

”why?” the question rang through your head, it was a good question. why? why did you tell him to fuck you instead of just letting him go wank off in the bathrooms. ”why did you go with it?” sirius was left a little shocked, and he sputtered with the words himself. ”uh- uhm. well, y/n, that would be because..” he puts a hand on your shoulder to stop you and turns you to face him, placing his other hand on your other shoulder. your breath hitches at the situation, more tension being created than the fiasco in the library, ”because?..” you trailed off, almost breathlessly. sirius' eyes bore into yours, and everything around you seemed to fizz out, like the moment between you and him was the only thing happening the world, like time had stopped. ”i fancy you.” he let the words out, his eyes never left yours, but now they appeared almost frantic, as if searching in your gaze for a response. he didn't even notice how your lips seem to have lifted into a smile. ”say something, please.”

”i fancy you more.” sirius began to smile at your words, allowing himself to break eye contact, resuming time by simply glancing down at his shoes for a second.

suddenly, a loud, assertive voice spoek up. ”sirius black? y/n y/l/n? get back to your dormitories before i deduct points!” your head snapped up first. ”right away professor.” you say, sirius' response delayed. ”yes professor.” once the teacher had turned around, you gave sirius a quick kiss on his cheek. with an idiot grin, you slipped from his grasp and began to back up, ”goodnight siri, talk to you tomorrow.” you turned and walked back to your dorm.

”g'night y/n.” he wished he had more time but for now, he was satisfied.

pray4saint© do not copy, translate or repost my work without my express permission.

#pray4saint #the marauders #marauders era #marauders #sirius black #sirius x reader smut #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader smut #₊ପ sb.nsfw #saint's nsf !! #saint's inbox !! #request #🦥 !!

[buckyscombatboots]

Monstertober Day 6:

Below the lily pads🪷

Pairing: Swamp monster/Siren!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Non con, death, Dead dove: do not eat, dark!bucky, beefy!bucky, forced breeding, p in v, anal fingering, sex in a forest, sex near a pond, drowning, marking/biting, mentions of blood, scratching, choking, praise, delusional!Bucky, victim!reader

Nicknames: Doll, sweetness, doll face

Word count: 2.1k

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

You plopped down on the couch with a huff, that was the final box. You’d finally finished unpacking everything and now you could relax. You raised your head and glanced into your new garden, which was the woods connected to your property. The sky was dark, aside from the silvery glow of the moon and stars which hung in the velvet blanket of the cobalt night sky—it was going to get way darker. The thought of being unable to see into your backyard, which was now so much larger than before, made your stomach churn “Buy outdoor lights, noted.” You slowly rose from the couch staring suspiciously out into the thicket of dark fir trees, if you stared for long enough you could see movement, one day of being here and your eyes were playing tricks on you already making you paranoid “I’m going to go mental here, aren’t I?” You joked, turning away from the darkness outside your french doors and instead turning your attention to your beautifully lit kitchen. Your stomach rumbled lowly, it was way later than you thought and the day of unpacking had left you famished.

Looking at the contents of your fridge made you sigh, you had enough for a basic meal but nothing fancy. You grabbed the two cloves of garlic you had left, the random half of an. onion and the two tomatoes rolling around freely in the fridge draw and dumped them on the countertop “Pasta it is…Do I even have any pasta.” You stood on your tiptoes opening the cupboard and began to rummage, you had enough spices to open a spice market, stocked up on medications, hot chocolate mix, extra coffee and an assortment of herbal teas, but no pasta. You said a silent prayer as you opened the next cupboard and there it was, a half empty box of spaghetti “Thank all that is holy!” You exclaimed, placing it on the counter as you pulled out a pot and a pan and put it beside the spaghetti. You swayed along to the enchanting sound of man singing as you filled the pot with water and placed it on the stove, it was a song you’d never heard before. You began to hum along, turning to your record player curiously to see what record you’d put on. It wasn’t on. You hadn’t put any records on. There were no houses for miles, you were alone in the middle of the woods; so there was absolutely no way it was from a neighbour. You threw open one of the draws and pulled out the biggest knife you owned, the blade glimmering in the overhead lighting of the kitchen as you held it defensively up in the air. Standing as still as possible, you stopped breathing momentarily to listen, your heart thumping in your ears as you cautiously stepped towards the singing. The sound was coming from outside. Biting down on your lip you tiptoed towards the glass, squinting in an attempt to see outside. You pressed your face to the chilly glass, goosebumps rippling across your skin. You couldn’t see anything but the reflection of your house's Interior.

You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, as your hand wrapped around the handle of the door, you begrudgingly opened it. Aware of every little sound; the swaying of the trees in the light wind, the metallic tick of the lock as you pushed on the handle, the crunch of leaves as small animals skittered through the woods. Every small noise made the anxiety rising within you worse. “Is anyone out here?” You called. Nothing. The smooth baritone singing continued.

Slipping on the pair of hiking boots you’d left outside to dry, you squeezed the knife; mentally preparing yourself to venture into woods.

You were deep into the forest by now, the singing was getting louder. You were close. “Singing stranger! Your voice is lovely, but this is private property and it’s late. You’re really freaking me out here, so if you could…maybe leave, that would be great.” The singing stopped, leaving you to listen to the soft chirp of crickets. You pushed aside some brambles allowing you to see a clearing and a pond surrounded by overgrown aquatic plants; long, thick brown pond reeds towered tall and piles of bulrush outlined the small waterhole. A small section of the bank was not overtaken by plants, a flat slab of rock that was damp as you advanced towards it bending just enough to swipe your fingers through the moisture. It had no smell, you thought maybe one of the fishes had splashed the water on it. Thinking that brought you solace. Looking closer at the pond, you adored it. It needed work that was for certain but you could definitely clean it up, add some lights around it and place a bench close to it to make it a cute picnic spot. Your shoes sunk into the mud as you crouched down next to the pond, watching as the reflection of the pale moon was distorted in the ripples of the water. You reach towards one of the water lilies, trying not to fall into the pond as you lean forward. The tips of your fingers brush against the soft, yet firm, petals and you try to pinch it between your outstretched fingers to pull it closer. You miss it. You glance down at the bank of the pond before shuffling closer to the edge, you repeat your actions from before but this time you're able to reach. You pull the flower closer, the pink of the petals becoming clearer as the lily pad parts the water drawing closer to you. Something wet and slimy grazes your ankle, making you release the lily, you fall backwards into the mud as you squirm away from the water edge. You let out a scream as a viscid webbed hand seizes your ankle, you kick and squirm against the tight hold.

“There’s no need to be scared, doll. It’s me, the stranger who was singing. You said my voice was beautiful.” From the clear water emerged a man with murky green gils framing his clean shaven face. Despite being in the water his hair was completely dry, the moon casting a blue glow down on his pushed back brown locks. His blue eyes were warm, welcoming and crinkled at the corners from the wide toothy grin stretched across his face, all of his teeth were pointed and curved like a shark. Murky water glided down his defined chest, as if his skin was covered in wax. You laid paralysed in the mud as he used his free hand to prop himself up on the bend of his tail, his scales glinting in the moonlight. Peaking out of the slit below his waist were two erect dicks, tinged green like his scales and ribbed. A bead of precum leaked down from the tip onto the other one below it causing it to twitch in response. You woke from your paralysis, scrambling on to your knees, Bucky lurched forward pushing you back into the mire “Where do you think you’re going, Doll? We haven’t even started yet.” His claw-like nails cut through your shirt and shorts like butter exposing you to the chilly autumn air, his nails scratching your skin deep enough for it to bleed as he cut through your clothes.

“Get the fuck off of me!” You screamed kicking at his muscular tail, Bucky dug his nails into your sides making you yelp in pain—stopping your struggling as you felt the burning pain travel across your nerves.

“Stop struggling, Doll.” He hissed, spit flying into your face. You wiped it away with your arm and turned your head further to look at his face

“Make me.” You spat, grabbing a handful of dirt and throwing it at him. The warmth left his eyes and his smile fell, his cold stare remained locked on you as he slammed your head into the mud. You choked and spat as sludge entered your mouth.

“That wasn’t very nice, sweetness. I know what's best for you, so just lie still.” Bucky warned raking his claws across your back to pull you closer, he held both dicks in his hand lining them up to your hole. You tried to wiggle your hips away from him but he mercilessly slammed into you the tips of his dicks painfully bashing against your cervix as he stretched you open; a dull burn radiating through your waist. Your walls constricted around him trying to force him out of you, he thrusted against the resistance making an agony akin to period camps spread through your stomach. Bile rose in your throat as he continued his pounding, using you like a fleshlight. You felt the tip of his needle-like fingernail pressing against your rose bud, your screams of resistance were muffled by the mud as he forcefully shoved his thumb into your tight ring, a stabbing pain travelling across your back “So tight for me. All for me.” He moaned, draping himself over you and biting into your shoulder blade. White hot pain surged across your back corrupting your senses as white flashed across your vision. You began to struggle with new found vigour. But it was futile his body weight alone kept you pinned to the ground. Bucky’s snake-like tongue lapped at the blood flowing from the teeth shaped puncture wound hungrily. “Taste so sweet, doll. Never gonna let you go, you’re gonna have my babies.You want them don’t you? Want me to make you a Mommy.” Bucky whined, the thrusting of his hip causing more water to slosh out of the pond and splatter against you both.

“No!” You shrieked, hoping that for some reason anyone was in the vicinity to be able to hear you. You couldn’t give a shit if they were trespassing on your property, if they could help you then nothing would matter. He pushed your face deeper into the mixture of mire and swamp water, you dug your hands into the sludge below you endeavouring to not suffocate. You became frantic as you felt the oxygen left in your lungs running low, the taste of mud and swamp water entered your mouth through your nostrils making you gaged as you suffocated. Survival instincts took over your mind, dulling the stabbing pains throbbing throughout your entire body. You needed to get him off, or you were going to die.

“You don’t mean that, Doll, you’ll come to terms with it eventually. You’ll melt when you see how beautiful our children are going to be, I’m going to pump you so full of them. Your stomach is going to swell with our children.” As his thrust became more brutal he lent more of his body weight on your head. Your lungs burned, desperate for air. Your screams making bubbles in the ooze, you were swallowing dirt but all you could think of was survival. Your hands flailed behind you grabbing for the swamp monster, why you felt the firm skin of his torso you dragged your nails across it furiously. Trying to hurt him so he’d get off you. But your attack just fuelled his fire “I didn’t know you liked it rough, sweetness. You should have told me.” He purred, slamming into you with harsh, shallow thrusts. You felt warm puffs of breath against your throat before an intense, excruciating pain shot through your neck; his teeth tore through your skin as he bit down harder and harder tearing the muscles and skin from your throat. You couldn’t even scream, he’d torn out your vocal cords. The warmth of your blood against your freezing skin gave you a small moment of comfort as you felt your life fading away. Your body was so heavy, you couldn’t lift your hands. Your clawing and squirm slowed, the haze in your mind feeling as thick as the mud you were laying in. The pain stopped, everything stopped.

“Doing so good for me, Doll. I’m gonna cum. That’s it, relax for me. That's it. Gonna- ah-” Bucky gave a few more weak, shallow thrusts as his hot seed filled you. He pressed a soft kiss to your bare shoulder, stroking your dirty, wet hair. He let out a soft chuckle “Already asleep. That really took it out of you? Didn’t it, doll face. You did so well.” He whispered, picking up your limp body and turning you to press your face into his chest “I can wait to start a family with you, Doll. You’re gonna be such a good Mommy.”

Tag list: @alina02 @winterslove1917 @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @petesey @getwellsoontana @feyfantome @alexxavicry @ashenc-blog @floral-recs @renster05 @redbloodedgurl @shrekwreck @sweetwrathoflilith @cjand10 @flamefoxxrecs @addie5587483 @little-bunny0523 @sojuxxi @adoreyouusugar @teambarnes72 @wintasssoldier @gryffindorqueensworld @aerangi @itwillgetbetter @taramaria @anniellacinamon

#smut #marvel #marvel smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x female reader #beefy!bucky #bucky barnes one shot #dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes x you #bucky x f!reader #smut drabble #bucky x y/n #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky smut #monstertober #bucky barnes x victim!reader #siren!bucky #siren!au #swamp monster!bucky

[ihave1braincell]

Chonny Jash Au idea?????

So, like, imagine that instead of the Whole sorta being the representation for Chonny Jash, what if the Whole was Simon from Hawaii Part ll???

So, in this AU, everyone is made up of three different parts. The Mind, the logical side. The Heart, the emotional side. And the Soul, the animalistic instinct to stay alive no matter the cost. (or just instincts in general)

These three parts are typically fused together within a person. They’re one big blob. Although, when Simon received his electroshock therapy, these three parts separated within him.

The Soul is trying it’s best to ensure that it’s the supreme ruler and commander of Simon

The Mind is a bit petty about this, but is mainly just trying to get things back to they way they were (the Soul ain’t too happy about that)

The Heart and the Soul are the only ones who actually knows how to get them back as one (a mixture of simple time plus them not arguing and having them share the control of Simon) Although, the Soul likes how things are now and the Mind won’t listen to the Heart’s pleads and explanations of what to do.

The Heart has given up at this point and tried to temporarily take control of Simon and make him commit sewerslide (see “Ruler of Everything”) but the Soul and Mind take control just in time. (They also then proceeded to lock the Heart up within the body. During “Stranded Lullaby,” Simon was basically just being run purely by the Soul, and partly the Mind.)

During “Dream Sweet in Sea Major,” the extreme emotion Simon feels when he hears Stella’s voice gives the Heart enough power to break out of his makeshift prison thing and have Simon go towards the noise. Then… the Heart got his wish and they’re dead, eaten by sirens.

May make art of it soon

#chonny rambles #chonnys charming chaos compendium #chonny jash au #soul #the soul eclectic #cj soul #cj heart #cj mind #the mind electric #i love over analyzing so much like oh my god i get to distract myself from the ever growing void in my heart #the heart acoustic #miracle musical #hawaii part ii #hawaii part 2 #simon hawaii part ii

[boyswanna-be-her]

I spent the last five days & nights w BFR, and before that we'd spent TWENTY of the previous 25 days together, usually only pausing to sleep separately. And although we'd been joking about it, I didn't actually realize what a mindfuck for me specifically it would be to spend several years alone and then most of a month with someone and then need to abruptly be apart for two weeks.

Emotionally on a day to day level that's just so not an issue. I spent years and years of my past relationships craving freedom and alone time and the ability to do whatever i want whenever i want it without waiting on someone else or having to take their opinions into account. I was definitely sweating being lonely and probably I still will eventually feel lonely on this trip--but getting on the highway today to head to Denver ended up feeling good and familiar and right.

But this morning was not that way. PTSD is fickle and I'm still learning my triggers. Being around someone I really care about is dredging up a lot of things that didn't get metabolized in my last relationship. And this morning, I woke up at 1 am on my couch with BFR in a full-on panic. Something about the fact that we'd fallen asleep in front of a movie instead of bed was the first thing that set me off (idk man, idk). I woke them up, they said they would come to bed, I went to bed in my panic and put on sleep noises and exhaustion managed to override the panic and I cried myself to sleep assuming I'd wake up w BFR.

I woke up again at 4:00. They hadn't come to bed from the couch. Legitimately I recognized that this meant nothing but that didn't matter. My mind has gone FULL police sirens now. I go back to the couch. They fully wake up and apologize for falling back to sleep and make room for me and I try to get comfortable w them on the couch but NOPE somehow this process makes my mind actually tip from being skittish to having a full-blown anxiety attack. I realized after a minute of sitting with the feeling of overwhelming panic and terror (which it took me TWO more hours to identify as a panic attack btw wrow) that none of the feelings were coming from the sleeping situation, but I failed to figure out WHERE they were coming from. So Iay there on the couch trying not to sob, so so so fucking confused about what was happening beneath the surface of my consciousness.

I just couldn't parse it. Like, BFR is great and our time is great but I don't know them well enough to be in love with them or even to miss them THAT much. Like christ, not sobbing over it! Not heart beating like I'm running type of upset.

Finally after I'd done every errand and packing task I could think of, I was still sobbing off and on so went to my Mom's place for a xanax (she was sleeping but luckily my dad knew where she keeps them). Then i came home abd I woke BFR up and basically said "i think I'm having a panic attack and I could use some company, like, fucking yesterday about it, and at least until the xanax i just took kicks in." And they got up and got their act together and immediately started uhhh taking care of me in a healthy way. Just sat with me and listened, said everything was going to be ok. And I talked at them and cried and cried and finally worked out that it had been a panic attack since I woke up at 1:00, I just had been deflected thinking it was bc I was sad to leave BFR.

In reality, there was this deep and abrupt CERTAINTY that I woke up with that my life had somehow fundamentally changed overnight and there was nothing I could do about it. It's almost 24 hours later and I'm still all shaken up to even approach understanding that headspace, but there it is. Between the fast onset of Jonathan's mental illness, his unexpected suicide, and the really awful way D ended their relationship with me a few weeks after Jonathan died, I have a very deep-seated belief that everything in my life can and will change without warning, for the extreme worse, ESPECIALLY when I feel safe, secure, loved, and excited about my future.

I just woke up and "knew" that it was all changing. I felt deeply that one or several devastating events were going to take place once I left town. Top on my list, when I drill into it, is that one of my parents or friends will get a devastating injury and/or die before I can say goodbye (lmao no idea where that comes from 🙄). It also felt/feels (when I let myself feel it and put it into words) 85% likely that BFR will change their mind about me while I'm gone and pretend like all of this never happened. Which honestly when I look at it with my logic brain is even less likely to happen than someone dying.

So I really got in there and sat with those feelings. It only helped a little bit to say it all out loud to BFR. It only helped a little bit to get their reassurance. That's how it is with this shit: it's not logical or evidence-based, so you can't logic your way out of it.

Eventually the Xanax got me, and I fell asleep in bed with BFR being the best and watching me and stroking me and waiting for me to either wake up on my own or need to be woken so I didn't miss my day of travel.

I slept HARD for two hours. When I woke up they were there waiting for me, sitting in bed. They had quietly continued cleaning my apartment, as well as gathering up all the snacks they had to send with me on the road trip today.

I felt so much less insane after the third attempt at sleep. Without talking through it AND a healthy dose of a sedative, I don't know that I would've been able to get on the road. I cannot think of a time other than during the sheer ego death of Effexor withdrawal in December when I was that completely panicked and inconsolable and SCARED.

I was two hours behind but after all that i was ready to go. I got the dogs loaded up and ran into a friend who said BFR was "a cutie" and we "would be a perfect couple" (i'll tell her later we already are 💕). I finally dropped them off on their side of town and hit the road for my first leg to Tennessee.

It is definitely taking lots of bandwidth for BFR to be there for me in the way that they are currently showing up. I know more about their history now and it makes me even more appreciative of the monumental effort it has taken to let someone new into their life. They had therapy this afternoon (let's goooo weekly therapy havers!!) and I could absolutely tell by the VERY serious tenor of their texts this evening that they'd been talking about us in therapy which is 1. Something a partner has NEVER done before, I'm always begging my partners to get therapy and they dont and 2. Incredibly fucking encouraging/affirming that they are indeed putting thought into me and I'm not stupid to be doing all the communication groundwork to build something nice. Shit is so pleasantly NOT one-sided. Like my last therapy sesh was me asking how I can avoid becoming codependent and wrecking my own life for someone, and their sesh had an apparent focus on communication with me and how to be vulnerable with me. The fuck? How healthy? Go off, I guess. We had a really thoughtful and helpful communication session (I had to pull over while driving but I did so happily bc it's really worth it), which in retrospect was not an easy conversation for either of us. We both were acknowledging some difficult truths about ourselves and setting expectations for what that means about a relationship. It's honestly quite doable things to overcome, and EARLY to be digging in, but it's also really fucking helpful to be in the loop with what they're thinking/fighting and I'd imagine vice versa.

But they sent me thoughtful texts all day (more than I sent them), did their yoga class, therapy, called me once I was settled in the hotel, listened to my stories about the day, asked if I wanted to stay on the phone and watch a movie together. I went to the hotel gym instead. Solo travel is going to be tough on my sobriety, and getting physically worn out has been helping a lot. Doesn't matter much what I do--just gotta tire out the software by running the hardware or something like that.

So. It was an awfully hard day. BFR took it in stride but I did not. I tripped up and kind of rolled down a fucking jagged hill. But all I can do is show up and try again and not sweat it too much that PTSD is going to be a part of my life until it's not. There's a lot that makes it worth it right now.

I think I have a lot of potential to create something special and rare with this person who has found me. Usually when someone cares about me this much and fawns over me and wants to help me in areas where I really need it, I find it a huge turn off. That's always made me feel misanthropic, but idk. Maybe there was always some thin-slicing going on and I felt that there would be a catch. But with BFR there's something I recognize there. The care they give me isnt a donation, or an investment, or a down payment. They genuinely like to see me succeed, like to see my pain eased or erased, even when there's nothing they can gain from me. They're happy to make me happy in a way that I actually don't think I've ever encountered from someone who was interested in me. Like I hate to just relegate them to the cliche of service top but they are indeed panning out to be someone who gets off in every way by overachieving in helping or pleasing me--and they're talented at making that service-y aspect somethinf that I'm the boss of, instead of making me feel like I'm a pet project or something to be changed.

That's my ramble. Needed to vomit it all out somewhere. I'm retroactively editing so my apologies for the everything. Pictures to come.

#bfr #colorado trip

[synthy-sizer]

It's a much longer walk to the rocket launch pad than it was to the radio tower. Even with the radio tower being tucked away, the difference between that and the launch pad is astronomical. But you suppose it makes sense. The sheer amount of noise, shaking and smoke generated by a rocket launch would be quite the disruption. Heresy told you the basics. Oddly, it was built underground with a door that opens at ground level to allow the rocket a clean escape. Apparently they had to build massive tunnels in 4 directions to funnel the smoke away through vents on the surface. You were a bit nervous about the decay of the building, but she said it should be fine. Practically any structure attached to the Lunar megastructure will survive longer than normal ones. As you approach, you notice the first thing Heresy mentioned you would see; a large metal door in the ground. This is hardly the hatch that had tormented you just a few weeks ago, though. It must be the size of a small house. The thick, rusting metal is split down the middle, and stepping on it experimentally tells you just how thick and sturdy it is despite exposure to the elements. A bolt cutter definitely wouldn't break through this.

You walk around the perimeter. Heresy said that the entrance probably wouldn't be as obvious as it once was, but that there should be traces of a path inside. You keep walking and walking, and looking out into the grassy plains around you, and suddenly something catches your eye. You walk towards it and confirm your suspicions. It's the decaying and overgrown remains of an asphalt road. It looks far different from anything you have in the barracks, er, your neighborhood. You're far more used to gravel. You trudge over to, and stand upon, the old road. It feels strange under your feet. You feel as though you're standing on cursed ground. Turning back to face the massive door, you suddenly notice what Heresy was talking about. The road angles downward into an arched tunnel that leads down into the darkness. But even in the dark you recognize the unmistakable red color of the code red lights. Somehow despite seeing it several times now, you can't help but feel uneasy around the red glow. But you press forward anyway.

…

You are standing in the TUNNEL. It's dark, and you're barely illuminated by dim red lights. The tunnel goes FORWARD further than you can see. Heresy said there would be a door at the end, so you suppose you have to trust her. To the right, there's a SECURITY GATE.

Look at tunnel>

There isn't much you can see in the darkness, but you can faintly make out the shapes of sirens similar to what was in the hatch. They probably serve the same purpose.

Look at security gate>

You press your face and hands against the metal grate of the door. The space the gate is blocking looks like some kind of garage. You can see the faint silhouettes of VEHICLES of some sort in the dim red light.

Look at vehicles>

They don't look like anything you've ever seen. You're used to lightweight electric pickup trucks and carts, but these look monstrous in comparison. They're huge, heavy, and have thick armor plating on them. You don't like the look of them.

Go forward>

You can't seem to get into the garage, so you walk forward. It's quite a long tunnel, but eventually you see something that doesn't match the view you've had so far. As you get closer you realize this must be the end of the tunnel. There's a DOOR attached to the wall, with a red cage lamp glowing red above it.

Look at door>

Like everything else you've seen in these Apollo facilities, the door looks sturdy and heavy. You doubt you would be able to shove it open.

Open inventory>

[Inventory]

Bolt cutters

Knife

Map

Keyring

Equip keyring>

You pull the keyring out of your bag and start sifting through KEYS. There has to be something that will work here.

Use keys on door>

After sifting through the keys and not finding anything with a clear label, you resign yourself to just putting every key into the door one at a time. It takes a few minutes of idle testing but eventually one turns smoothly. You test the doorknob and the door swings open.

Go inside>

You're surprised by what you see behind the door. It appears to be some kind of control center. The room is curved, and has large windows facing inwards towards the center of the large metal door. There's COMPUTERS, MONITORS and all kinds of strange DEVICES covering every surface of the desks. It looks like at least a dozen people were meant to work here at a time. Frustratingly, the windows don't give you much of a view of anything, since it seems as though there's metal plates directly behind them. The lights are red here, too.

Look at computers>

The computers seem just so functional as any others you've seen. Maybe you can use one to get instructions from Heresy.

Use computer>

The applications are familiar to you at this point. The INSTANT MESSENGER stands ready.

Use instant messenger>

HERESY's name is at the top of the list. She must have added herself as a new user to make sure she can help you.

Talk to Heresy>

[HERESY is ONLINE]

Launchpad: I made it.

Heresy: Sofia, good to see you made it inside.Heresy: Does the rocket look ok?

Launchpad: I can't tell…Launchpad: It looks like the windows are blocked

Heresy: Ah yeah, those are the blast doors

Heresy: Since they needed the observation deck to be so close to the launchpad…

Heresy: They would close the blast doors to protect themselves during launches.

Heresy: There should be a switch somewhere that will open them.

Launchpad: Where do I look?

Heresy: Look up near the top of the windows.

Heresy: That's where the control switches should be.

You stand up from the desk.

Look around>

The whole place is in shambles. You're tampering with science way above your pay grade now. You doubt you could make heads or tails of any papers stacked up on the desks. But overhead there are indeed CONTROLS on panels attached to the ceiling.

Look at controls>

There's a wide array of switches and buttons. Several have clearly designated labels; BLAST DOORS, LIGHTS, MAIN DOOR and TUNNELS.

Use blast doors>

You flick the switch and, surprisingly, the metal slabs slowly lift away from the windows with a loud metallic creak and groan. You can see outside the windows now, but it's too dark to take advantage.

Use lights>

You flip the switch and one layer at a time, large spotlights flick on, starting from the bottom and moving up. You're immediately blown away by the sheer scale of the space. It's gargantuan. Huge supports stand at the sides, mounted to the walls. Cranes and vehicles sit idly around, with more than enough space to drive. In the center sits the ROCKET itself. It's incredibly impressive and by far the biggest structure of its kind you've ever seen by a landslide.

Look at rocket>

The rocket is a rounded conic tube painted black and white. It seems like it lacks any kind of windows. It's mounted to the support frame on the walls and seems to have some kind of ELEVATOR attached to it.

Look at elevator>

The elevator is embedded into the wall and attached to a hatch on the side of the rocket via a narrow catwalk attached to it. It looks detachable, which stands to reason.

Use main door>

You flick the switch and hear an earth-shattering series of mechanical noises. The split sides of the door detach from each other and slowly start to slide apart, eventually fully embedding into the internal mechanisms and stopping with a loud clunk. Light shines into the space for the first time in what must be many years. Dirt and debris tumbles into the new void. It's a strange feeling.

Use tunnels>

You flick the final labeled switch and take note of 8 large blast doors at the bottom of the wall that start opening. They must be the tunnels that vent the smoke and fire from the launch to keep the whole thing from going up.

It seems like that's all you can do to prepare the launch for now. You should talk to Heresy.

Talk to Heresy>

NEXT

PREVIOUS

[geekfanficwriter]

Caught Somewhere in Time- Eddie Munson Part 17/?

Summary: You end up in the 80s, 20 years earlier than it should be luckily a certain metalhead is about to make your time in the 80s much easier. Words: 3.2k Warnings: angst

Part 16 Part 18

Masterlist

Author’s Note: Should I be doing uni work? Yes. Am I writing fanfics instead? Yes.

23rd March 1986

You heard the noise of a car pulling up outside and you immediately ducked down behind the sofa, making sure to stay hidden. You slowly approached the window and peeked out seeing Dustin, Robin, Steve and Max with various bags of food in their hands. You immediately relax and stand up, heading out of the house. All four of them immediately turn round, jumping until they realise it’s you and they immediately relax. 

‘Hey is Eddie in the house with you?’ Steve asks you and you shake your head.

‘No, he’s out in the boathouse. I told him everything.’ You shrug, yawning as you do. You hadn’t slept in last night. You’d been up the whole night, the guilt of your actions consuming you. Of course, you felt terrible for lying to Eddie for the last two years but you were only doing it to protect him. Although, even in your own head that excuse sounded pathetic. You knew if he had been lying to you for years, you’d been a million times more pissed than he was.

‘How did that go?’ Robin asked, turning to face you.

‘How would you feel if the person you loved had been lying to you for two years and was actually someone completely different?’ You ask, your face completely deadpan. The only good thing about your lack of sleep was that you physically didn’t have the energy to cry.

‘We bought Oreos for you.’ Steve says trying to make you feel better. You thanked him, taking the packet from his hands and opening it as you head into the boathouse. You tried not to look at Eddie as you walked in, heading for the furthest corner while Eddie sat down and grabbed a box of cereal, eating it heavily.

‘So we got some good news and some bad news. How do you prefer it?’ Dustin asks the two of you as you shrug.

‘Bad news first, always.’ Eddie says between mouthfuls of food.

‘All right, bad news. We tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro and they’re definitely looking for you. Also, they’re pretty convinced you killed Chrissy, like 100% kind of convinced. And Y/N they’re pretty sure you’re involved too.’ Dustin tells you and you let out a groan.

‘Great so they think we’re some satanic Bonnie and Clyde.’ You sigh, rubbing your face.

‘Pretty much.’ Dustin shrugs as if he hadn’t just told you you were wanted for murder.

‘And the good news?’ Eddie asks changing the topic back.

‘Your names haven’t gone public yet but if we found out about you, it’s only a matter of time before others do and once that gets out everyone and their shallow-minded mother is going to be gunning for you. Both of you.’ Robin informs to two of you and you fail to see how what she just said is good news. She basically just told you, you only had a few days before people would be trying to kill you. 

‘Hunt the freak, right?’ Eddie responds sarcastically.

‘So before that happens, we find Vecna, kill him and prove your innocence.’ Dustin says as though it’s the easiest thing in the world. 

‘That’s all, Dustin? That’s all?’ Eddie seems about as hopeless as you do at the current moment,.

‘Listen, Eddie, I know everything Dustin is saying sounds totally delusional, but we’ve actually been through this before. I mean, they have a few times, and I have once-‘ 

‘Robin, I’ve already told Eddie everything.’ You cut her off, a frustrated tone in your voice. You don’t mean to be rude to Robin but you really don’t need a reminder of your fuck up. 

A moment later, you all hear a police siren and everyone starts freaking out, telling you and Eddie to climb under the tarp. You end up pressed against Eddie face to face with him. Considering your previous argument it’s an incredibly uncomfortable experience for both of you. Once the sirens have gone past and it seems that you’re in the clear, you let out a sigh of relief as the others pull the tarp off you.

‘There was like an entire cavalry out there. We should probably go check what that was about.’ Steve said and you nodded.

‘Yeah, it might be another victim which is going to look great for us.’ You tell them. You say goodbye and the four of them walk out. You hesitate for a moment before making a decision to leave Eddie alone and give him space until he wants to talk to you.

‘Wait.’ Eddie says, so quietly you almost miss it but you hear him and turn around, seeing him fiddling with his hands. ‘I’m not saying I forgive you but I want you to explain everything, from the beginning.’

‘Okay, but it’s going to take a while.’ You say sitting down in the boat in front of him. You tell him everything from the beginning, starting with your getting kidnapped, the moment you’re pretty sure you travelled back in time, how you escaped from the facility and everything that has happened since you arrived in Hawkins. It takes a while to explain anything but by the time you finished you’re pretty sure you’ve left no detail out.

‘Wow, that’s a lot.’ Eddie breathes out, his mind clearly racing. ‘I have so many questions.’ 

‘I can try and answer them but I don’t know much about any of this.’ You shrug. You really don’t fully understand your powers or anything that’s happened but you can try to explain it to Eddie.

‘Okay, well first of all, why haven’t you gone back to your own time?’ Eddie asked.

‘I tried when I first escaped from the facility and realised that I wasn’t in my own time but I’ve never been able to figure out how to control it and then I met you and I stopped trying.’ You admitted the truth of why you had stayed, for Eddie.

‘Okay, and why time travel? I mean the other four make sense together but time travel seems completely random.’

‘I don’t know, I’ve tried thinking of a hundred different theories but any of them could be right. It could be that the other four things are the four elements and time is a sort of the fifth element, could be random. I have no idea.’

‘Where did your powers even come from?’ 

‘No idea, it wasn’t a radioactive spider bite or anything. Just around the age of 12 weird stuff started happening around me and then I realised I was responsible for the weird stuff.’ Eddie looked like he was about to ask another question when the walkie in your bag went off. You moved over to your bag and grabbed the walkie out of it to hear Dustin on the other end.

‘Dustin, what’s up?’ You ask into the walkie.

‘Y/N! You had a headache on Friday right?’ Dustin asks, panic in his voice.

‘Yeah, I did. What does that have to do with anything?’ You ask confused.

‘Okay have you experienced nosebleeds, nightmares, trouble sleeping?’ 

‘No, but again what does that have to do with anything?’ You were getting frustrated at this point, annoyed that Dustin was asking you questions with no context.

‘Headaches are one of the symptoms that Vecna’s victims were suffering from so we just wanted to check if you’d experienced any of the others.’ Your eyes widened. Was there a chance you were possessed by Vecna? No, you hadn’t experienced anything else.

‘No, I haven’t but I’ll let you know if I do.’ You push the antenna back into the walkie and look over at Eddie who looks incredibly freaked out.

‘You sure you’re okay? Because I don’t think I could deal with that shit happening again. Especially since it’s you and not some random girl.’ Eddie sounds panicked at this point.

‘Ed, I’m fine. You’d have known if I was having nightmares or anything like that.’ You tell him, sitting back down in front of him. You really didn’t want him to worry or think that there was an actual chance of you being possessed. You were pretty sure you were an unlikely victim.

‘Good, but I’m not letting you out of my sight because if you die- if you die-‘ Eddie can’t even get the sentence out, pacing back and forth, tugging on the ends of his hair.

‘Eddie, I’m not going to die. Well not anytime soon. I promise.’ You tell him, standing up. You want to wrap your arms around him to comfort him but you still don’t know if you’re at that point again. Eddie acts first, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close to him. 

‘Fuck, I’m still mad at you but I also don’t want you to die thinking that I hate you.’ He says holding you close.

‘Again not going to die and I’d understand if you hated me, I hate myself pretty badly right now.’ You say, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your head into his chest.

‘I don’t hate you. I’m just pretty pissed off that you kept everything from me. I mean I could’ve helped.’

‘That’s why I kept it from you because I knew you’d want to help and I didn’t want you getting hurt.’ You look up at him.

‘I guess I understand, doesn’t make it any easier though.’ 

‘Yeah, I should’ve told you.’ 

‘Yeah, you should’ve but it doesn’t matter now. It’s probably not a good idea to spend the last days before we either get taken to prison or killed arguing.’ Eddie kisses the top of your head.

25th March 1986

‘I’m just saying Eddie, just because I’ve never heard of Corroded Coffin doesn’t mean they aren’t famous in the future.’ You say lying on the couch as Eddie digs through the covers looking for something to eat. You were tired and hungry, you had hardly eaten and slept over the past few days and Eddie’s constant questions were not helping your mood.

‘Okay but you listen to metal music so if you haven’t heard of us, that probably means we aren’t famous.’ Eddie says as he continues to open the cupboards.

‘Or and consider this, we don’t know how my time travel power actually works so me travelling back to 1982 caused a fracture in the timeline and now everything I know about the future is bullshit because it’s all divided.’ You point out and Eddie frowns over at you.

‘This is way too confusing.’

‘I agree, that’s why I don’t think about it. As long as Buffy the Vampire Slayer still comes out in 1997, I’ll be happy.’ You shrug.

‘What the hell is that?’ Eddie stops his search to frown at you.

‘It’s my favourite TV show. It’s about a girl, called Buffy, who slays vampires. The title is fairly self-explanatory.’ 

‘And let me guess, she also dates vampires because it’s just that predictable.’ Eddie pulls a can out of a cupboard alongside a pan and starts heating up the food inside.

‘You know you’re no fun and just so you know, when it airs in 11 years, I’m going to make you watch it.’ 

‘Remind me in 10 years to divorce you so I don’t have to do that.’ He turns around and smirks at you.

‘Wow, rude.’ You frown at him. ‘Go make a call to Dustin and try and get us some more food.’ You change the subject as Eddie hands you the pot and you eat some of the food in front of you. It not exactly filling you but it would have to do. As you ate, Eddie kept speaking into the walkie-talkie until eventually Nancy picks up. She cuts the conversation short and Eddie lets out a frustrated groan as he flops down next to you on the couch. You hand him over the pot and he finishes off the food quickly. 

‘You better plan on sharing that six-pack, considering you took half of my cigarettes.’

‘I thought you didn’t like beer.’

‘I don’t but I don’t think I’m getting a bottle of rum so it’ll have to do.’ Eddie lets out a hum in response, clearly thinking about something.

‘Hey, can you cause earthquakes?’ He eventually asks and you frown at him.

‘What?’ You ask confused.

‘Well you can control earth so theoretically, you should be able to cause earthquakes.’ 

‘Yeah, I can, I mean not big ones, not without some sort of catalyst but little ones.’

‘Can you show me?’ Eddie asks excitedly.

‘No! I’m pretty sure a random earthquake would alert people to our location. And it definitely won’t dispel the satan worshipper rumours.’ You point out.

‘Fine, what about tornados or hurricanes or tsunamis? Can you make those?’

‘Theoretically yes but I don’t think causing a natural disaster is a good idea currently.’

‘I’m not saying you should, it’s just it might be useful if something bad happens.’

‘You are aware that I currently have like no energy?’ 

‘Okay but in an emergency.’

‘Maybe we should be more concerned about the emergency of starving to death while the other’s run around?’ 

‘Whatever, we should probably head back to the boathouse, considering we’re meant to be hiding.’ Eddie points out and you let out a groan.

‘But it’s so uncomfortable in there.’ You whine but stand up anyway.

‘Sorry, next time we’re on the run for murder I’ll make sure we hide out in a Hilton.’ Eddie responds sarcastically as you both walk back over to the boat house.

A few hours later and you were officially bored out of your mind. Eddie was sitting in the corner throwing rocks into the empty can while you lay in the boat, making flames dance across your fingers.

‘What happened to no energy?’ Eddie asks looking over at you.

‘I’m bored and this is vaguely entertaining, plus it’s keeping me warm.’ You reply. Eddie goes to respond but hears a car pull up outside and quickly ducks down behind the window. You’re about to point out that it’s probably just Steve but Eddie lets out a swear as he looks out the window.

‘Shit, it’s Jason and his friends.’ Eddie whispers and you quickly sit up, making the boat rock beneath you.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ You say looking around you. Eddie grabs the walkie and starts calling for Dustin again but you get no response as the two of you freak out. You look around, trying to figure a way out. Suddenly you have an idea, moving over to the doors that open out onto the lake.

‘Grab the oars.’ You whisper to Eddie as you open the doors.

‘Your plan is to sail out of here? Why don’t you like set them on fire or something?’

‘I’m not setting half the basketball team on fire. Then we’ll actually be murderers!’ You whisper yell. Eddie stands there for a moment before climbing into the boat with you and starting to row away. You keep a look out behind you as you see Jason appear from the boathouse. He yells at the two of you and starts stripping off his clothes to swim towards you. Eddie freaks out moving towards the engine and starts pulling the cord, but the engine was not starting. You sit there, frozen in fear of what they’re going to do if they catch you but eventually you snap out of it.

‘Move, Eddie!’ You yell practically shoving him back into the boat and holding your hand out, pushing the water behind you to propel the two of you along. Jason and Patrick continue to swim behind you as you try to make it to the other side of the lake as quickly as possible. 

Suddenly, Patrick stops. You frown for a moment, hesitating before you see him go under and your eyes widened. You wonder for a second if you managed to do that without knowing but then when you see Patrick start to float in the air, you realise what’s actually happening. Vecna has him. 

‘Shit, shit, shit.’ You hear Eddie yell from where he’s stood behind you. He loses his balance and falls into the water, attempting to grab you to keep himself steady but pulling you both under the water. You struggle slightly as you feel the cold water surround you before lifting your head up out of the water and taking a deep breath. You see Eddie next to you, mumbling, his wet hair clinging to his face. You move over to him, taking his head in your hands.

‘Eddie, we need to go, swim to shore. Keep your head under the water.’ Eddie looks at you confused. ‘I will make sure we can breathe just keep your head under so Jason can’t see us.’ Eddie nods and you duck under the water, creating an air bubble around your mouth and nose, Eddie does the same and you create one for him, focusing on swimming to shore while stopping the two of you from drowning. You can feel yourself fading slightly as you get closer to the shore, the days of minimal food and sleep catching up to you now you were using your powers. 

Once you make it close to the shore you raise your head above the water, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. You climb out of the water, leaning against a tree and taking deep breaths as Eddie follows behind you.

‘How’d you know how to do that?’ Eddie asks.

‘Use to put me in a tank and fill it with water. It was learning how to do that or die.’ You pant out, sliding down the tree to sit on the floor.

‘Shit, you okay?’ Eddie moves to kneel next to you.

‘Yeah just need a minute.’ You say shivering, realising at that moment just how cold and wet you are. Eddie grabs the walkie out of his pocket and tries to speak into it but it doesn’t work.

‘Shit, can you fix it?’ Eddie says holding it out.

‘I could pull the water out but the electrics are already fried. There would be no point.’ You say with little enthusiasm. You keep shivering until you eventually decide it’s worth it to use your powers, sending a blast of hot air under your clothes until they’re eventually dry. You do the same to Eddie but immediately regret the decision as black spots start appearing in your vision.

‘Okay, we need to get out of here, cops will be here soon.’ You say, standing up, stumbling slightly and nearly falling but stopping yourself by resting your weight against the tree you’d been leaning on.

‘You’re not okay.’ Eddie says wrapping his arms around you to keep you upright.

‘I will be, let’s just get out of here.’ You tell Eddie.

Eddie supports your weight as the two of you walk through the woods. You were barely conscious at this point and by the time you make it to skull rock, Eddie was practically dragging you. He placed you against the rock and knelt down in front of you.

‘You should be safe here. I’m going to go see if we can find a walkie or something.’ You nod weakly in response as Eddie walks away. You try to stay conscious but pretty soon after your eyes flutter shut and you fall asleep.

—————

Taglist: @michaelfuckinglangdon @taygra5shaon @eddiemunson4ever @little-diva-gurl @oxbunnehxo @fentyreligion @bellegirl16 @smol-book-nerd @pbeckn26 @luvfrlslou @maicclg @ruinedbythehobbit​  @lillyof-thevalley @yourdailymemedelivery @hoe4joeq03 @moviefreak1205 @sadbitchfangirl

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x oc #joseph quinn x reader

[m4nd0l0r]

Deviation of Self.

Description: The tarnations of his past are unescapable in every twist and turn. He realizes, it always will haunt him— and be the only way he can survive with everything he oh so desires.

Ship: Sith! (disguised as a Jedi) Five Hargreeves x Jedi! (GN!) Reader (Star Wars AU) (Implied Force Bond between the two)

Word Count: 2.2k+

Author’s note: WARNING! This deals with the topics of death and some form of a character study for Five (kind of) it can be triggering for ppl so please view with discretion!! i finally managed to finish this holy shit 😭😭 writer’s block once again came in to kick me in the ass, sending me to a thousand lightyears away from the earth itself- so that means i’m not sure how angsty this is— anyway i hope you enjoy reading this nonetheless!! (i might write other oneshots for this au- depends on it how it goes honestly SKSK) (if i do, that banner will be overused ASF im not making a new one mark my words—)

Dictionary ( i did say i’d do this so uh even if most ppl would know these info i’ll still add it for the sake of not confusing ppl :D): Force Bonds: a connection between two force sensitives or force users Force: basically the power used by both sith and jedi Sith: dark side users (usual villains) Jedi: light side users (usual heroes) Lightsaber: (we all know what this is cmon now /lh) weapons of force users

(Five is physically and somewhat mentally 18 in this fic!!)

Five Taglist: @ells-graveyard @noahspector @aelinismyqueen @sunweee @fivelegance @ne0boss @twauna00 @placidpluto @eichenhouseproperty @heartsforsuyin @ghostlywavelengths @ghostlycherryblossomwonderland @seconds-not-decades @coolcatlover4 @emotionally-unstabel @peachy-wolfhard @its-loki-bitch @raven-fandomtrash @theilliterateskankula @magicstrange @venusrambles @whereintheworldisspencerreid @honeycombdumbass @kazuive @oscarisaacsleftballsack @zenithinthebin @peachteeaaa @rchaoz @wickedmystery @wordsandnerds @umbrellatte @666abby6666 @iameddiemunsonshair @starlightinhumanform @vennythearsonist @trashmouthsahra @crinklypink @halfumbrella @wifeofcamillamacaulay (if you want to be removed/added, pls tell me via pm!!)

What plagues— haunts the boy like a lifeline that injects through his bloodstream; a river of horror plated right at his wide eyes. Voices, cries spread upon each sleep he takes, dreams morphing into nightmares, and faces become even more obscure with each step he takes. 

Five watches your chest rise up.. and down.. He wants- wishes he could brush even his knuckles softly to your skin, to feel your almost lively warmth. But he can’t risk it— he shouldn’t. 

Another lifeline to watch, to care for. To make sure you don’t fade out like blaring sirens from afar. His eyes were weary, yet he doesn’t stop watching you breathe. Seeing you inhale and exhale gave him comfort- that he was truly here with you— that you were here with him alive. 

His hand clenching through his glove, a horrible noise squeaks out from his fist. He cannot indulge in such, even if it were his key to calmness. Even if he almost lost you— even if he wants to take it, to open the lock for himself to drown into. Into the closeness that others crave from another. 

Was this the reason why others indulged in such things? Why would he hear and see people say that they would die for it— would risk themselves for one puff of smoke- a drop from the same dazzling liquid he wishes he now possesses or a pop from a pill? Just to get a taste of release from reality- through the dreaded bitterness? To access something- that peace they all crave— the very thing his and your own masters hoarded away from them? 

He didn’t bother to try to comfort you from what happened— he could tell you were trying to stray from it, to think of something else. And he respected that— because he does not want to talk about it either. 

The night ended with your kiss on his cold cheek, a warm breeze to a cold evening. He merely closes his eyes, letting it etch unto his mind, your actions almost frail and so weakened from fatigue. 

Breathing in deep, the Sith wishes to reach closer- to not be this far— for serenity to come into his mind, and he knows he will not regret. 

But he knows you would not want that. You do not need that- you need rest, he tells himself. Selfishness was something he cannot afford right now, not when he was already so hours ago. 

As if a root digs into his body, sprouting a seed to invade his senses. He only hopes your dreams are better. Better than the crumpling of flesh Five can’t get out of his head. Crack crack. It goes. 

He then takes another deep breath, his eyes now closing. 

The scraping of his glove to the hilt of his lightsaber chimes to him, as if he was trying to find comfort from it. But silence only rings like a drum in an empty parade. Fatigue rushing through him, from the sides of his head, to his palms— he wouldn’t be so disoriented if he just slept. Five tells himself off— his free hand cups his forehead, trying to lessen the wrinkles forming. 

You hum in your sleep, and he only tiredly smiles from the sound. Rustling is heard as you adjust your head further unto the comforts of your pillow, your hair now strung across the sheet. Whenever you slept quietly- in past missions- like a mouse playing dead under its captor’s whim, it scared him. 

He had to fight the urge to press his ear onto your back- or your chest, just so he could hear your heart pumping- your lungs breathing in and out. 

He preferred hearing it truly from you, not just a dislocated song from the Force, but he decided to settle watching instead- your chest rising and falling smoothly, with a few hiccups and snores. He will take what he can, but he doesn’t mind.

He prefered to hear such noises rather than the deathly quiet. 

Your breathing fades out, he fizzles out from reality, somewhere eerily quiet- more ‘stable’— rather than your tired huffs in your sleep. He doesn’t fight it off- and only lets himself be drowned to those noises- to forget. 

However he does not. He can never forget, he never will. Five merely hates himself— for not being strong enough- that he wasn’t quick enough to be by your side as he needs- wants to be. 

And he couldn’t accept it, rather he searches for another solution- an equation that simply something that he cannot solve nor exists entirely. 

-x-

He could feel the wind flare through his cheeks, as if it were fire and its purpose was to burn him alive. He could smell the scent of rotting flesh- even when all that remained were destroyed droids and the whiff of singed electrical wires- the same stench that bore through his hands as he picked up scraps out of the hands of the fallen. 

“Five..?” You choked out in short breaths. “Shit… shit..” It was hard to take in air— the pain in your chest- blood seeping from your hands, the adrenaline sinks into your veins. Your hand bloody from your own, almost paralyzing you to the point the feeling of your flesh pulsing- trying to stitch itself together when it simply cannot— it was numbing.

“I ‘ll be— be fine-“ You spill out- but he can’t feel his throat open to say anything. Silence only fills his guts, and lingers through the air. Fear takes his thoughts away, and leaves only irrationality. But he wishes he could let out something- to scream out to you that you need to live— that he was here- and he won’t ever dare to leave. 

He knew it pains you, that it cuts you deeply like a gash. He feels it with you— the bond formed by the Force for the both of you has him want to vomit- the pain was burning, sickening even. It made him feel as if he were being lit on fire— The flames eating him alive.

Yet, as you suffer so, you did not scrunch your face nor you let out another wail of pain— you only formed a smile. One that wants him to think that you’re fine with this— that he isn’t losing you. 

He at first thought you were letting yourself calm through of the teachings of the Jedi, to not be afraid of death. But he knows you more than Pogo, you were fearful, paranoid. You do not wish to know what could be beyond this plane of existence. You don’t want to die trying to. 

And he doesn't want that for you either.

He feels— no, hears from the sorrowful chants of the Force. You were fading like mist— your pulse lowers.. thump.. thump… Your own heartbeat trickles out as if your own life force was nothing but dew in the aftermath of rain, the beginning of the end of a storm. 

It was getting slower, quieter— it was terrifying. Different from what he has heard in this fight— It was one that seemingly has him sweat to the point he would feel fear. It was organic, evidence that a real fragment of a soul- a life, was slipping from his hands— and he did not know what to do. 

His master would know— Not Pogo, Not even Reginald who he despised from the Order— but her. She knew what to do, she taught him, before sending him to the Jedi to foil their pathetic teachings. To let the galaxy know that they were nothing but witches who love deceit. 

The Handler has known many things, after all- she has once prophesized an inevitable doom carries itself all over the wasteland. He felt a shiver from his spine, and it wasn’t from the sheer temperatures. His mind could wrap only on apprehension. Palms were sweating, and he was sure his stomach was feeling sick. 

He only sees what will be the only remains of the galaxy. Nothing but the remnants of havoc. Despair has taken out its sickle and planted death across the soil, sinking unto the roots of life, killing the undeserving. But that is how the cycle is, one fails so another could prosper. And those who remain- undiminished- will wilt, like autumn had just passed. 

Stars- he didn’t want to remember- not here, not again— he would rather be elsewhere than come back to this dizzying remnants of that pathetic rock, into that terror that still plague his days. He wished he could burn his eyes off- to never see these, but his mind would not resist in torturing him.

Because the only thing Five can see is the tomorrow his master had prophesied. And even if he would burn his own eyes off, that will be the only thing he’ll be able to remember under his own eyelids. 

He did not want to taint you with the same things she has done to him. The vileness of the Dark Side tortured him, made him bleed and has consumed his entire being that each time he tries to focus on using the Light Side to appease Pogo- he is never sure if he managed to mask the evil from him. 

He jogs his mind— Not letting panic fully settle in his mind— and cave in rather than logic- than coherence. His hand subconsciously reaches out, and he lets in the dark. 

He is a seed that lives on in this barren dirt. One that sprouted unto a wooden tool; unearthing what could be saved- the weeds that are believed to have dried off, yet are still flourishing; he preserves the things that persist. In that case, it would be resources, plants unaffected by radiation, little rodents, any source of life, he will take it to safety. That is his mission, not from his master nor the order that he wishes he could detest but he just can’t.

He has to help you— save you. Because, what is the point of his power? If he cannot use it for his gain? 

He is again a boy chained to the ideals that were never his- that were injected deep into his mind to harness the deep desires of his master, and those before him. Channeling his anger, his fury— he then heals. 

Watching your flesh stitch itself back together, your breathing stronger than before, and your heart- thank the Force- was beating quicker— 

You were alive, breathing and beating as one, that is all that mattered to him. Your eyes drooped from exhaustion, but he did not mind, you do not need to see his eyes change color from the green you know. 

And as he steadies your resting form by the side, he turns on his back. 

He does not hear multiple pulses, ones that seemingly shakes his mind to the point he would feel guilt once his saber goes through their skin.

He only hears metal wiring, gears clunking unto each other, orders played out all over again in their databases, and the hissing of buffers that gives life to these things— to have each and every one of these disposable fighters be programmed to fight a war it does not know it was born for. 

He spins his scalding blue lightsaber in his gloved hand, readying himself. Lips pursed as his mouth dries- the terrors that sinks into his skin, it is what creeps into his consciousness every moment. 

His pupils- once was verdant— now have grown tired, horrified, it became a sickly yellow, flames- fury tormented his soul, and what used to show his kindness, his true self, has now been clouded with the wrath he has been trained to use against others.

The impact of his blade rang unto the metal plate of the Commission droids. His breath hitches excitedly, an almost surprised grin plastered on his face. 

An electric buzz hummed through the wind, His plasma saber as his source of light- he only sees the material shine of the humanoid creations, his hand raises up high, locked into a fist as he shoves them all to the side, watching them break into little pieces, all sliding off like wet paint splattered onto a canvas. His saber cuts through each of their parts— screws and wires scrunched and charred fall to the dirty ground. 

BZZT! WZZT! The droids cry out— but he feels no sympathy, he does not speak, nor does he try to overthink. You will be fine now, he thinks, you won’t know. Because if you did, he would not know what to do. 

But he sees what you would do. What you would say. It rushes through him like acid on metal, and it sickens him so. 

“I never thought that I..” You would only let other words fill your throat. “.. I would see you become the very thing we, no— I swore to destroy.” 

He forcefully takes him out of his delusion- focusing on the sound of your heart again. It was so calm and collected- and it tried to give him peace. 

But peace is not enough to simmer the madness, after all, Five was no Jedi. 

He feels it swell deep into the remnants of his heart from his own thoughts. The same madness his master told him to hide in order to slip in through the blind eyes of the people. 

He now merely tunes out the singing— the crying of these automatons— the liveliness of the dark Force that rushes through his veins like some sort of bacta salve- and he is greeted with cold, metallic silence as wires burn around him. 

#tua five #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #five x reader #five x you #number five x reader #number five x you #number five #five hargreeves #the umbrella academy #star wars au #tua x reader #tua s1 #tua s2 #tua s3 #thank you for reading my madness #i had a whole crisis over this fic istg im sure i went insane during it LMFAO

[wvbaandtheboys]

. im really not helping my case here am i. anyways though FNAF LORE!! PO FNAF LORE TIME!! SOUND THE FUCKIN SIREN!! IT'S TIME TO GO!! 🚨 yes its mostly kinda not serious either also its kinda dumb so let's share.

So, for the then upcoming anniversary of the WVBA's existence (in 2010), they got together with Dreamland to brainstorm something special to commemorate the boxers.

Eventually, they settle on making replicas of both the Wii and SPO casts. But no just any replicas, no. Robots, intelligent robots that were going to be almost perfect clones of their original human counterparts. So, development started with Dreamland's (rather tech advanced) robotics department to make that shit happen. And well, none of the boxers were told of this project because it was supposed to be a surprise for everyone.

But supposedly, it wasn't all too secret. Some boxers may or may not have reported seeing a few pairs of glowing eyes in the dark of the studio, and hearing voices eerily similar to their own... Anyhow! On the day of the anniversary, the robots were unveiled for everyone to see. And boy, were they magnificently made. They could move around very fluently, listen, respond, you name it! Even their personalities were faithful to the boxers they were based upon. The responses were... mixed. The boxers as a whole when the bots first came out didn't seem too pleasantly surprised with their robotic doppelgängers. But, overtime, some warmed up to the idea enough to express positive feedback and even interact with their bots. Some were iffy about their bots but didn't complain. And some just stayed disturbed by the hulking metal mounds that sounded, acted and looked like them.

The public, though? They ate them all up. Their love and adoration for these replicas was plain as day. They racked up just as much popularity as the real ones in their own special anniversary exhibit. So ya know, they were a total smash hit. But then, strange things started happening.

One would be odd, unheard-of noises usually at night, around midnight. They were sporadic yet frightening, and no sources would ever be found (despite sounding like voices.) But it was also noted that sometimes, according to late night workers, that the ro-boxers would be slightly adjusted in their positioning. Usually stood straight upright, occasionally it would seem that their eyes or heads had moved...

Secondly would be random objects having been tampered with or broken in some way being discovered in the morning by boxers and staff. Mirrors would be shattered or cracked, desks or tables flipped over, storage boxers toppled to the ground, you name it, it probably happened. But no one fessed up to anything.

Finally, the testimonies of some staff or even boxers that stayed after midnight would report that they felt uncomfortable in the presence of the robots. They described this feeling of discomfort as "feeling as though eyes were burrowing into them, or as if something was observing them with malicious/violent intent." The bots were even checked by the mechanics who made them for their peace of mind, but everything was intact. Nothing was wrong with their programming. In the rise of these concerns, an application opened up for a night guard to work the night shift from midnight to 7am. And surprisingly, a certain blonde haired bird filled in the application. That's right, our beloved pal Peter signed up to take the night shift. Why? Cause he thought it'd be interesting to play detective and see what was all the fuss was about regarding the bots. I mean, there's no way something was off with them, right? They were just bots. But oh, how wrong he'd turn out to be.

To explain the way the robots work: The ro-boxers are programmed to act like the boxers, yes, but they have a certain script they run by during opening hours called the Showtime Program. The Showtime Program is a mostly pre-set catalogue of phrases, actions and other basic interactions that a ro-boxer is to do during the daytime. Certain actions or phrases from a fan may trigger one of these responses. For example, if you were to ask Glass Joe "What is your name?" or took a flash-on photo of Great Tiger. Joe would say the classic line (or variation of the line) "Bonjour! Bonjour! Je suis Glass Joe!" while Tiger's gem would flicker, and he would pose for the photo.

But, after the exhibit closes, the ro-boxers are normally left on during the night as they have a similar case to the robots from FNAF where they don't want the boxers to lock up their joints from not moving. They're only supposed to move slightly though, never leave their areas. It's more like they're stretching. But at the same time, the Showtime Program ends when the place closes, which leaves the boxers with a completely clean script of their own. They can do whatever they please. Whatever. They. Want. The ro-boxers are very intelligent contrary to some belief. They're not bland replicas to the bone. They may still act like their human counterparts while they're on the prowl... but believe me, they're not friendly after hours. Don't let their joyful dialogue fool you. They're coming for you, Peter. So you'd better be ready to defend yourself. If they get in, they'll put you out. Permanently.

#punch out!! #punch out wii #super punch out #by the way peter isn't guarding both sets of robots #i mean idk if that was obvious so i'm saying it now #i'm so tempted to give this a tag but i'm still in denial /lh #/j

[inkyducks]

HIII!!! SO, IVE BEEN GONE AWHILE. BUT. I MADE SOMETHING.

A MY LITTLE PONY PERSONA/OC. ^^

(please ask questions about them I'm more than happy to answer any. I will be making more content with the OC soon.)

Kip is the god (vessel) for the overlords of MLP. He represents creation and destruction in general, and is there to balance the MLP universe's.. 'pizzaz'. They work together with Discord to keep everything to a certain level of 'controlled', just so everything doesn't fall apart and break. They are a chaotic neutral, but won't partake in most of Discord's mess. They prefer to be anonymous during their work, though they helped create the Sirens, Queen Chrysalis, and King Sombra entirely on their own.

Before Kip was created, they were made of the water from the river pool, formed from the seaweed and sand at the bottom. The overlords dried them out and gave them magic, which is why they slowly formed fully. At first they had white splotches here and there from not forming fully. This left blank parts in their personality and emotion traits, it also left them vague of their purpose and actual meaning to survive, leaving the shell of a child in a constant depressive and disassociated state of mind. Once the magic started circling their body they gained black splotches that covered their white splotches, which slowly gave them a basic personality and their powers. Small sparkles of colorful light guided them through their discovery to help maintain and raise them to their full potential. Once they turned 16 they were introduced to their true powers and purpose in life, which led to their discovery of their 'cutie mark'. During this time though Kip made their own personal creations and started to experiment and mess with the basic mortal lives.

Kip (currently) is over 10,000 years old in pony years, but in their overlord/immortal years their are 17. They have slightly fluffy but unkempt dirty blond hair, with small off white highlights on their front bangs. Parts of their body is still an off white color, but is mostly a light brown to represent the bottom of the Mirror Pool. A small yet very noticeable floating crown with the elements of the sky is atop of their head to atleast try and set a basic status for themself, but mostly is for decoration. They have a slight obsession with ducks which led to them simply creating a small duck hair clip during their fifth birthday. They have medium sized wings that also have block splotches of feathers intertwined within them. Three sparkles of light follow them everywhere in the primary colors, guiding and raising them. Each color representing the colors that make up light, or creation in this case. Because they were formed by magic, they also have small barely noticeable sparkly particles that represent stars that follow and show everywhere they go. They have milky sky blue eyes that have hints of gray tinted along the rims.

Kip's likes: Creation, destruction, creativity, ducks, outer space, the overlords, Queen Chrysalis, Discord (platonically), water, pillows [specifically the fluffy ones.]

Kip's dislikes: Princess Celestia, loud noises, the Mane Six, all forms of rude people [this includes people/ponies who discriminate anything], mirrors, pretzels (of any kind)

Questions I asked myself:

Q: What would it take to 'break' Kip? A: Their realization that their entire existence is pitiful and meaningless.

Q: What's the best thing in Kip's existence? A: Their guidances.

Q: What is the worst thing in Kip's existence? A: The Overlords

Q: What sexuality is Kip? A: Kip is pansexual, and demisexual. (Self insert be like)

Q: Does Kip care about their creations? A: Kip only cares for the original forms of each of their creations. Extras/descendants, such as Twilight, are not as important to them.

ANYMORE QUESTIONS FEEL FREE TO ASK! IM HAPPY TO SHARE ANYTHING ABOUT THEM!

(please ask for permission to use my OC)

#art #ibispaint art #sillyposting #writing #archive of our own #my art #my little pony #my persona #oc art #oc #original character

[moonlit-trolls]

So, what exactly do you do for a living, Mousie?

[Docs for your sake]

—Hello I am Janett with The Empress’ Daily. We interrupt your normal daily broadcast to cover the most recent news that happened. We find ourselves in the scene of one of the largest bank robberies in the history of the north-west side of alternia. There was a bomb threat sent out to the Local Bank Seventy miles from here and the fleet were on high alert at the location of the bomb threat, Location was evacuated and all they ended up finding was a Briefcase with a Confetti and Glitter Bomb Inside, That had a decorative Cheese wheel as well as the word “Mouse’s got your tongue” with what seems to be an online communications Emoticon of someone Smiling.

    Currently we find ourselves in the general bank of the Northern East Side of the City, Where an Explosion alerted the people inside, Furthermore it seems like it was not an actual explosion but a sound coming from a machine able to do an extremely loud Booming sound without any actual damages. The Scene of the crime Appears to have been destroyed by a Construction Grade Wrecking ball. For the damage to the bank’s Vault and Side wall can be related to similar attacks of Property By Wayward Drones. The Bank’s Vault door is Inoperable if you do not have the Bio-metric scanners corrected, but it seems that the lock and main entrance was melted by what authorities affirm was extremely Rusted metal combined with black gunpowder. To create the Thermite Chemical Reaction. The metal oxidized within seconds and the Rusted Iron was melted with a flame ranging 1400°-1900° Celsius. It seems as if it was a Soldering torch that did the job. No suspects have been seen, but the same Internet Communications Emoticon has been sighted inside with the same Decorative block of Cheese with the words “Mouse Is Out of The House” written on the wall—

    Click The television makes a sound as it goes off, You are slouched over the reclining chair in bad need of Repairs eating mozzarella sticks straight out of the bag,You can see and hear your Nannybot with the blues painted Black, humming a mechanical song that doesn’t sound natural, Sounds scripted

    —C’mon MayMay, Cut the song and dance. Play some real music— Your voice echoes on the run down hive As the nannybot does as she is asked. Her audio system makes a noise as it adjusts and begins playing something more your style, The strumming of a badly tuned guitar, the off-beat bass and drums, Everything sounded Perfect As the band yelled their name for the nonexistent stage “WE ARE THE THREE MOUSEKETEERS!” Your voice was the one that boomed out. Alongside it the Fond memories of the band also came to mind.

    Personally you are proud of the job, Maeyie had already counted the bills to a perfect $200,000 Duffle bags as well as suitcases held it all under the floorboards you walk atop of to head to the kitchen area, Small apartment means that it’s all one singular room, not that you care. You want toast in this rainy mid-day, butter, two slices of bread into the frying pan. you believe that any bread can make pan toast, but you prefer sourdough, other people may wish for whole wheat or nuts might go for raisin bread. But you like the consistency of Sourdough, and you are not a simpleton to go with white basic bread. 

    –There is always a method to my madness– You thought to yourself as you ate the first bite of the first slice – I know what I am doing – You say looking out of the blinds, the police sirens finish what the music that Maeyie was playing lacked, The rhythm made sense and the lyrics tracked as the cars wooshed past your window leaving the strange neighborhood you found yourself in with dust to the roofs of buildings due to their speeds. as the sound of music is stopped you hear

    —Master Bonnie, Would You Wish For Me To Make You A Proper Diner?— Her voice was sweet, something you heard not once before from someone as earnest as her… Deeply you wish she was more than a robot so you could be actual friends. But you know that  behind the sweet voice and gestures, lies nothing more than ones and zeroes, and last time you spoke to numbers they called you crazy. But nonetheless you answer.

    —I, yeah man, we got some leftovers, can you mix it all with manioc flour and make some canned beans?— and the machine smiled —Of course Master Bonnie!— and began with the cooking. Her arms moved faster than you cared to look, it’s almost natural how well she knows what you enjoy. She bakes you cupcakes, and brings you what you want… She has to be more than just a bot. 

After leaving with notes that are not marked you come back with groceries, There is a warm plate of food on the table, a little card with a crudely drawn picture of Maeyie smiling, as well as a cup of Strawberry soda, your favorite, As you can see your nannybot Recharging on her station a bit off the wall. –Tastes good as always…– you say eating it, Manioc flour goes well with everything. lightly roasted before being added to dishes, it adds a depth of flavor and filling that no one would believe. you learned that from someone who you haven't talked to since you were basically a kid. but his teachings remain in your head. you warm the second slice of bread you toasted earlier to eat with, it never hurts to add some sourdough to a plate of rice and meat, Never hurt you at least.

    — This feels familiar… — you mutter to yourself looking at the empty chair in front of the counter —Eh, Doesn’t matter— the voice that comes out of you is strained, as if you were lying more to yourself than to the ghosts that are sitting on your broken down chair as you turn the television on. and the broadcast has a random Indigo-blood in custody for the robbery of the bank. 

#My Writting #Mouse Drabble #hehehehe #Does that answer your question :3c

[birlwrites]

regulus comforting barty in the last chapter was so !!!!!

I WOULDNT RIDE OFF INTO THE SUNSET WITHOUT YOU

THEMTHEMTHEMEHDHHDHSHDE

can u maybe talk about bartys thought process in this scene, ik regulus noticed him shutting down a bit but is he the type to overthinkiverthinkoverthink or just have sirens and screaming and crashing noises in his head when he's panicking

THANK YOU!!!

regulus does not overthink an emotional conversation one (1) time and accidentally POPS OFF with THERE'S NO HAPPY ENDING FOR ME UNLESS YOU'RE IN IT

barty's more of the *record scratch* *sirens* type, he doesn't really spiral the same way regulus does, it's a Red Flag Red Flag Red Flag sort of thing

buuuuut this scene isn't very long SO! i'm just going to go through the entire thing

(i'll be including direct quotes from chapter 54 below the cut, but i'm not going to tag this as spoilers since it's a chapter that's already been posted)

so, first of all: barty comes in expecting this to be about the war. that's important because that's his mental context - this is about battle and loyalty and allegiance and intelligence and whether evan is trustworthy. because 'is evan trustworthy' was a question barty and regulus were asking each other YESTERDAY. LITERALLY THE PREVIOUS DAY. (a lot of words have elapsed since it's a busy couple of days for regulus, but like, THAT WAS SUNDAY. THIS IS MONDAY. TECHNICALLY TUESDAY BECAUSE IT'S AFTER MIDNIGHT BUT EMOTIONALLY MONDAY.)

and he is also tired and that's important too!! he is not alert, his brain is slow, he doesn't have Overthinking Everything About Evan to keep him awake (regulus has been vibrating out of his skin for the past 20 minutes at LEAST). like he's paying *attention* because this seems *important* but he is tired.

so right away: regulus goes off script. he's talking around stuff. he's mentioning lucinda???? lucinda's not involved in the war?????

this is when barty begins to get the sense that maybe he made an incorrect assumption about why he was being summoned at 2 in the morning. but he really does not know where regulus is going with this, so it's not an 'ohmygod feelings' moment, it's a '?????' moment. hence his visual confusion - he's very much lost already. regulus what. just tell me. i am so sleepy

but there's a long pause there!! and in that long pause, barty has the thought of: lucinda was gossiping about people yearning for each other at dinner.

he doesn't like having that thought, and that's why he responds with "Lucinda spent all of dinner talking about Hufflepuffs you find incredibly dull" - giving regulus an opportunity to clarify what the fuck he's talking about. and regulus... sort of clarifies, but not in a direction barty really likes - i'd call his thought process really along the lines of 'wordless seeping dread' here

and then regulus basically goes 'i have a huge crush on evan' and everything DOES click into place for barty

if regulus were in this position, he'd spiral - super long rambly paragraphs of inner monologue about implications and emotions and all of that. barty is more... nonverbal about it, if that makes sense? inarticulate? just like an 'oh.' and with that 'oh' comes a general sense of 'regulus is not mine anymore.'

after barty's "Oh" when regulus starts talking again, barty isn't really... listening? like he's hearing the words regulus is saying but he's just kind of mentally reduced to that one feeling, putting the world into a new configuration. when he says "So... you like him," that's... 'admitting defeat' is too strong of a phrase, but it's not WRONG. that's half resignation, half 'am i going insane, is regulus about to be like no dude how the fuck did you come to that wild-ass conclusion?'

because this is OUT OF LEFT FIELD for regulus. he's never breathed a word about being romantically interested in anyone ever. barty got very comfortable with that status quo. which is now being ripped out from under his feet. yay!

regulus, of course, charges onward - he's in Problem Solving Mode, but the problem he's focused on is the Evan Problem. but then barty lets some bitterness slip (he was trying to make a joke. it came out too real.) and then he gets The Regulus Stare Of Investigation because regulus has clocked that something is *off*

and that's when barty pivots! because regulus is asking him for help with this, and he's not going to just be an asshole to his best friend for the crime of having feelings for someone. he can be upset and angst over his life and his crumbling sense of self worth later. right now, regulus requires ASSISTANCE. and barty doesn't want to make regulus feel bad about asking for help because regulus DEFINITELY does not need that, he has a hard enough time with it as it is, and this is an emotionally sensitive topic and barty does NOT want regulus to shut him out so!!! time to be HELPFUL

but too late. regulus has found the problem and he is not letting go of it. barty tries to divert him with another wry comment of sorts, except it doesn't really work, and then he gets another Regulus Stare Of Investigation and then regulus hits him with the "I wouldn't ride off into a sunset without you. I wouldn't like it."

now, this is both a 'oh thank god' moment and a 'mortifying ordeal of being known' moment for barty. he doesn't quite want to acknowledge how PRECISELY regulus identified the problem, because that means acknowledging that on some level, barty *is* possessive of regulus, but in the sense of like... being possessive of his place in regulus's life as Closest Person? it's not even about being most important to regulus - it's about being closest to him. and regulus clearly knows that, which is... a vulnerable moment for barty

but regulus has reaffirmed the most important thing, which is that they are BFFs, and so barty's brain can slowly begin to work again now that regulus has removed the big sudden wrench in the gears

but he is still sleepy and he wants time to adjust/process, hence asking regulus if they really need to discuss it right at that second. if regulus had said yes, then barty would have done it, but he is relieved that he can go

and barty is STILL sad about it. that's important. he's going to be supportive but he's sad because it means their dynamic *will* change somehow, unless regulus gets over evan like. asap, which probably won't happen. but at least regulus isn't *leaving.*

barty's going to continue to feel insecure about that - they'll need to talk about it more before it's really resolved, and to some degree barty won't really feel solid in the new normal until it's pretty settled and he actually knows how he and regulus work these days because he has proof

BUT!!! he and regulus are at least on the same page about being vital to each other's happiness. so there's that!

#dark lord wip #should i make an inbox tag

[archive-of-note]

Ezra / Reaper!Reader

Not really romance, just a blurb that was rattling in my head the past two days.

The arm removal scene, no real details given.

———

“You aren’t what I was expecting.”

You raise an eyebrow, “What were you expecting?”

He’s pale and sweaty, the infection of his arm is obviously killing him.

“At best? Nothing.”

You nod along, death being a complete absence of all things is a common interpretation.

“And at worst?”

He huffs a laugh, and it sounds like it hurts, “The visage of all those I’ve wronged, a final conscious reminder of my mistakes before I suffer in the sulfurous plane of the damned.”

“You speak a lot for someone fighting a moving, necrotising infection.”

He laughs again, “My mind is loud and crowded, I need to make space for my thoughts somehow.”

You chuckle a bit, taking stock of the tent that doesn’t appear to be his, or at least it didn’t start that way.

“Do you look the same to everyone?”

“Hmm?”

“The face you wear, is it the same for every soul you reap, or do you change your looks to fit the circumstance?”

You shrug, because you really don’t know.

“I look how you need me to.”

He huffs another laugh, this one humorless, “Of course, what better salve then temptation?”

You tilt your head in confusion.

He laughs again, “My life to be taken by a creature so breathtaking.”

It’s an odd descriptor, but not unheard of. You’ve been described as bewitching, attractive, a siren for the damned, the list goes on. Rarely has the sentiment been expressed directly to your face.

“You aren’t dead yet, I’m here just in case.”

He makes a confused noise, eyes closed and head tilted back.

“There’s still some wind in your sails, and Free Will means so few things are certain, you might die here, you might not, there is still time for decisions to be made.”

“What are the decisions of a dying man?”

There is a flicker coming this way, frantic and flaring, bursts that steal your attention before almost vanishing back into the brush.

“Who said the decisions were yours alone?”

The spirit fades, taking a turn that leads it away from this tent.

“Time is not one to rush, but indecision means it has a chance to pass you by.”

He looks to you, and you look to the short wave radio in the corner.

“They may kill me.”

“They may not.”

“Why do you wish to see me live?”

This always confuses you, the belief that you sit in wait for their lives to end, licking your chops and counting their breaths.

“All things die, I will visit every single one of you, not now, but eventually. Why rush our meeting?”

He looks at you, then to the radio, then back to you.

“Can,” he swallows, “can you stay?”

“I stay until I am no longer needed.”

That seems to be a satisfactory answer.

He gets the radio working, calling out to the toxic moon, and that flickering light returns.

The light is small, young.

And while you’ve seen everything sentient life has to offer in terms of cruelty, this child’s spirit is strobing, her will to live existing in fits and starts.

Her father’s spirit is still wandering, something compelled you to leave it, let him think he still has any effect on the world around him.

Enough of him feels guilty, so you allow his soul to wonder this verdant hell as it’s purgatory.

The confirmation that his arm needs to be removed scares him, the reality of it finally hitting home.

He shoots himself up and mumbles about a tingly sensation.

His hand clenches repeatedly as the sedative fills the limb.

You grab his hand, and he looks to you terrified, the sedative is old, paralyzing the limb just fine but the nerves still fire.

He talks through it, rambling about his life and his talents and the memories the hand will take with it.

It hits the ground with a pathetic thud.

You don’t need to be here anymore, she cut so far up above the wound that the infection is basically gone in it’s entirety, only minuscule traces remain in his system. Easily taken on by his immune system.

The now dead limb still holds your hand tight.

He looks at the empty space, flexing fingers that are no longer there, squeezing your hand and tapping out a restless nonsense rhythm.

“I need to go, Ezra.”

His breathing stutters as you say his name.

“You’ll live,” you press your lips into a line and tilt your head side to side, “well for now at least.”

A short laugh, almost manic, bursts from his throat.

You squeeze his now phantom hand.

“We’ll meet again, but hopefully not for a long time yet.”

He squeezes your hand in return.

With one last kind look, you vanish.

#ezra (prospect) #prospect #prospect fanfiction #ezra x reader #archive-of-note

[proudfreakmetarusonniku]

Genuinely, please tell us more about that AU! It’s like my favorite thing I’ve ever read and I’m already going feral over it!

Ok, so here’s some of the other things my brain came up with about it!

c!Dream's pretty fucked up both mentally and physically from. Dying painfully from radiation poisoning hundreds of times and stuff. He’s so numb to pain at this point he barely reacts to it, but has panic attacks at the slightest sign of illness. Loud noises frighten him- they remind him of the sirens. He's exceptionally clingy, terrified to let anything living leave his sight. Meanwhile, physically, a lot of his body is covered in burns, and it heals very slowly. He's also got terrible eyesight, though revival has kept him together enough he isn’t fully blind, and he's working on making glasses for himself.

c!Tommy's a lot less physically impacted than c!Dream, but the combination of, from his perspective, years to decades of isolation, manipulation and abuse, and crushing guilt has left him even less functional mentally than c!Dream. He fully blames himself for anything that goes wrong, ever, and often refuses food or water because he’s convinced he doesn’t deserve it. He’s stopped fighting back against any sort of pain, because he's not only convinced it’s a just punishment, but no matter what you do to him he'll insist it’s too lenient. He sometimes just becomes completely unresponsive to the world around him, usually for a few hours but sometimes for days.

c!Dream sees c!Tommy as the reason everything went wrong (since he doesn’t know that c!Jack screwed up the nuke- he’d obviously still be pissed at him if he'd just nuked him and c!Punz, but much less so) and tends to take his anger and pain over that out on him, both physically and mentally, often to extremes. He sometimes catches himself recreating some of the most traumatic experiences he himself went through onto c!Tommy- like his torture in the prison- and it genuinely makes him feel somewhat guilty. He resolves to never do it again, and spends a few days being as kind and accommodating to c!Tommy as possible, but then he always gets angry at him again and the cycle starts anew.

They don’t really have a lot to do, outside of basic survival, and that means there’s long periods of time they really can’t do much but just… talk, and hang out together. In a very, very unhealthy way, they’re genuinely incredibly close, and care deeply about the other. c!Dream sees c!Tommy as the only person who ever understood him, and c!Tommy is convinced c!Dream is the only person who’d ever tolerate him after what he did. And also, there’s the whole being the only two people even left.

c!Punz is alive, technically, but unlike c!Dream he got the fuck out of the server and is continuing his research elsewhere. c!Dream is paranoid he might come back to get some sort of revenge, but c!Punz has no intentions to- he simply wants to move on with his life.

#Dream smp #primeboys (derogatory) #tw abuse #tw torture #Post apocalyptic primeboys au

[polaristhngs]

Fearless (9/x)

Pairing: Dodge Mason x Female OC

Summary: A test of discovery, capability, and loyalty. Josie was a wild card. Dodge seemed to fall deeper into the rabbit hole. Falling deeper and deeper into the game than he had imagined. Everything about them had turned into something he hadn't anticipated, which is perhaps what made it dangerous.

Warnings: Minor Explicit Language, Mentions of Death and Suicide

Word Count: 6.3k

Disclaimer

I do not own the series of Panic or the characters. This is a slight AU of Season 1. 

Masterlist || I. PANIC || VIII. SENSORY || X. TRUST

IX. OUTSIDERS

"Welcome to the elimination round!" Diggins announces.

At the stroke of ten, Diggins and Summer emerge from out of nowhere. Diggins stood tall at the water fountain, watching the reduced number of crowd. Some people cheered. Some did not and only watched with doubts in their eyes. At the corner of the park, Josie could see Ray clapping, and so was Tyler. Dodge had his arms crossed, quiet, staring soullessly at the scene. All Josie could probably do at the moment was keep her silence, scared of making too much noise and waking up the small town of Carp. It was getting late and the town was pretty much empty. Stores were closing up. The local folks were going home. The only thing left there was a group of kids ready to play a game.

"Tonight, we're playing Fugitive!" Diggins exclaims, the crowd seems to throw away all sense of caution as they cheered aloud.

"Still doesn't explain the flag," Dodge whispers to Josie.

"The game of Fugitive combines elements of a number of outdoor games such as capture the flag, and cops & robbers."

"All players are the fugitives." Each participant looked at the other in confusion. "And the cops are, well—" Diggins shrugs casually. "They're the cops."

"This is a test of discovery, capability, and loyalty. There are only eight bandages of flags smeared all across town. Anyone who finds one of the flags and sends it to me, and manages not to get caught before sunrise is going to the next round. Those who do get caught are OUT of the game." Summer further exclaimed Diggins's words, slicing her hand through her neck.

"Loose lips sink ships. No one tells. Or else. Courtesy of our lovely judges." He warns.

Josie found her way into Dodge's gaze who was already looking at her with a kind of distress in his eyes. She felt her shoulders tense while listening to the seemingly impossible agenda for the night. So they basically have to survive the night by not being caught by the cops and at the same time, find a bandana with no clues whatsoever about its location. Carp was a small town, but it wasn't that small that she could find whatever she was looking for in a blink of an eye. Josie was masking her pang of anxiety with a stern and determined expression, matching Dodge's face.

The three best friends looked at each other for a moment of reassurance. They had a plan that they would stick together no matter what happened tonight. Josie was worried that the three would get separated once more. She only prayed that the events of the previous challenge happening once more would be most unlikely.

"It's every man for himself."

The loud sounds of sirens echoed through the quiet night as the colors red and blue illuminated the reflecting windows of closed stores in Carp. Hearing the sound becoming louder and the visual becoming closer, the group of teenagers swarmed and dispersed like kids in a playground. Sudden glimpses of heavy bodies clash with one another as they find a way to safety. Running left and right, the scene was chaotic. In the midst of her running, Josie could see six cops coming out of cars. She overheard one radio the station about the number of kids playing Panic.

The four teens tightened their looks at one another, signaling each other, sprinting their way into a small alleyway where Dodge led them to. Heather, Nat, Josie, and Dodge crouched down, hiding in the dark, some on the side of the garbage disposal. They shield themselves from the swarming cop cars that seemed to grow by the minute. Josie noticed two more cars showing up. One was following another group who thinks they can outrun it. She saw some already getting caught and sitting in the backseat. Dodge peeked his eye to the side of the wall, studying the scenery. The two remaining girls sat still, both trying to regain their breathing. Josie rushes to Heather after seeing her state.

"Don't worry. We're gonna be fine." Josie hums, rubbing her shoulder in comfort.

"We need a better plan," Natalie lets out.

"How are we going to find a flag? There are cops all over the place." Josie remarked. Not trying to sound like a downer, but they were fucked. "Do you think they saw us? Do you think they know who we are?" She could hear the alarm in the brunette's voice.

"If we get caught, then they will." Dodge quietly trod towards the girls who were all squatting in the dark corner. "We need to move but they're circling the place." He exhaled.

"We need to split up, divide, and conquer." Heather's eyes went round at Natalie's proposal. "We'll go one by one, not cause any attention, and we'll try to find the flags."

"Yeah, that's probably better." Dodge looked appalled at the sound of Josie's agreement. Josie gave it a thought. They wouldn't be able to complete the challenge if they don't act quickly. They couldn't stick together, it would be way easier to locate them and get arrested. The group can still keep in contact with one another through their phones, the girl voiced out.

"One of us is gonna get busted." Nat noticed the slight tremble in Dodge's opposition. "We won't," Josie reassured him.

Standing tall, she volunteered to go first. Making her way to the more lit part of the alleyway, she poked her head out of the corner to see if the coast was clear. Seeing the vanishment of the five other cars, she tries to head out before Dodge suddenly took a light hold of her wrist.

"Be careful, okay," Dodge mumbles under his breath.

The boy watches her disappear into the shadows. Silently but speedily jogging further away to another street corner. He gazed at her from afar, glancing at the police officers if they manage to see her. Nat left the corner afterward, then followed by Heather, and then Dodge.

————

Within minutes of her run, a cop car had spotted Josie. She felt like she was running from her life. Her heart beats quicker at the alarming sound ringing behind her. She continued to sprint far away, she wasn't gonna go to jail for Panic. If anything, she was going to jail for something far more epic. Running into a silent corridor near a store, Josie successfully climbs over a large metal fence. She panics and hides in a corner when she saw nothing but a dead end beyond the fence.

Placing her hands on her knees, Josie tries to control her breathing, seeing the car still lingering in the territory behind the fence. She curses, hearing the sound of the opening car door and the sight of the policewoman walking out.

"C'mon out kid." The woman alerts. "I know you're in there."

Josie froze. Despite the lady already knowing where she is, the girl still tried to be in control and kept her silence. The upside is that the policeman didn't know who she was and couldn't see very well in the dark. Josie was hiding herself behind a wall. Goosebumps fill her skin, hearing each step getting closer and closer. Josie closes her eyes shut, ready to meet her doom when she hears the metal of the fence jiggling. The officer climbs up on one foot and then another on the rail. The young girl can feel the panic rising from her.

A large volume of glass breaking echoing in the quiet night of small-town Carp made the two figures flinch in ambush. Just before she could reach the top, the policewoman turns around glimpsing a teenage silhouette with a brick at hand and a broken window. Another broken glass was heard again, this time the woman climbs down and dashed towards her car. The unfamiliar image Josie couldn't recognize from afar immediately pursuits away from the sound of the ignition.

Josie squatted down to the ground, finally breathing the sound of relief. She could only thank the other person who seemed to distract the cop and drive her away from her tail.

Checking left and right for any other speck of the authority, the girl makes her way to the location she was risking herself going to. She checks her wristwatch, it was around 11:38 p.m now. She only had a few more hours to find a needle in a haystack up against twenty other players. Since the night's goal mostly became a game of capture the flag, she instantly thought of places where a flag could be hidden. Josie figured that when they were running around town like headless chickens, the judges would hide it somewhere unreachable for them. Deciding to follow her hunch, she snuck in and climbs to the bell tower of Carp.

Climbing and finally making her way to the top, Josie shivers at the coldness of the evening mood. She took a second to admire the scenery before her. The tall spot on the bell tower allows you to see everything and anything of Carp, Texas. At that moment, her world didn't feel so small to her anymore, not when you have a view like this. She could spot places she visited with her friends and routes she had walked countless times. If Josie squinted her eyes, she could see a tiny person hiding on the side of one of the closed buildings watching a police car driving by.

Josie looked around the small interior of the tower. She checked above and below the bell chain, any mottled corner, or a staircase handrail for a sight of a bandage.

"It's not here." She slightly jumps, whirling around at the voice suddenly speaking up. "I already checked."

Josie didn't know if she should be delighted at the presence of Ray Hall before her instead of a cop. But that egotistical smirking expression he had on his face pretty much continues to annoy the crap out of her.

"How'd you know I was up here?" Josie took a protective stance.

"I was just about to leave the block when I saw you running up here." He beckoned. "I thought you needed the heads up. Didn't want you to waste your time." The girl rolled her eyes at the dubious sound of his concern.

"Where's the rest of your buddies?" Ray asked.

"We decided to split up. Better odds of finding the flags."

"Who's idea was that? Lemme guess...Natalie." He snickered. "And you agreed to that?"

"Teaming up is important in games like this."

"Like how Dodge and Natalie are teaming up?" Josie tried to show no reaction to his observation. "What makes you think that they are?" She interrogates nonchalantly.

"Well, it's either that or they're hooking up. At first, I thought it was you and him but after Graybills'..." Ray examines her before covering a chuckle. "I didn't think so."

Josie didn't know why the gesture pissed her off. She didn't want to back down and directly thought of a reply. "Speaking of Graybill...what happened back there with you and Heather?" She grinned to herself seeing the faltering expression of the boy like a deer in the headlights. Josie was maybe close to passing out but it didn't give her the inability to hear Ray call her name Heather's name with such alarm and panic. It almost seemed like he cared.

"So what is it? Do you like her?" The girl went straight to the point. Asking the question she'd been dreading to ask either of them.

"Would you even believe me if I told you?"

"No." Josie stood there, arms folded, judging him. "But this isn't about me. It's about Heather. I don't know what kind of game you're trying to play on her but stop."

"What makes you think I'm messing with her?" The boy hissed, standing up straight defensively.

"She's still in the lead and is most likely to win." She trails. "And you're an asshole." Ray bit the inside of his cheek, resisting and almost holding himself back. "Heather doesn't need you in her life Ray, so leave her alone."

"First of all, don't tell me what to do." Her feet remained planted as Ray walked toward her, intimidatingly. "And second, don't make Heather's decisions for her, Josie. You don't know anything."

"And you do? You think you know her better than me?" She challenged. "You've never acknowledged her like a fucking human being until like what— a couple of weeks ago." Josie scoffs, remembering all those times Ray would pick on Heather. The rumors he'd spread and laugh alongside his group of friends. She snapped back at him. "I'm her best friend and I'm only trying to look out for her. Whatever that is and isn't going on between the two of you, someone is bound to get hurt and it would most likely be Heather."

"Let's say you do care about her." She scratched her head, thinking. "If you care about her, you wouldn't drag her down with you." The Slater girl warns him.

Josie's words seemed to chime in his mind like a bell even after the girl left sooner after her last statement. Ray knew he didn't deserve her. He was a lowlife, destined to be stuck at Carp, while she was meant to fly. Some beautiful's nice to look at. But there are some beautiful makes you feel like you're flying. And it hurts. Because for a second it makes you forget that it's leaving you behind. As he hated to admit, Josie was right. He would only drag Heather down. He's a Hall. He is deadweight. And it's bad news to a girl with wings.

————

1:58 a.m

Leaving the boy alone with his somber emotions, Josie paced through the streets of Carp. She surveyed the block before leaving the bell tower, marking that it was clear. No red and blue lights and sirens were sighted and she didn't see any other Panic players being put in the back of a cop car and being chased by one.

Her mind whirled back to her conversation with Ray about Heather. She would be lying if she said she didn't feel bad for Ray. His relationship with Heather was probably the closest human emotional feeling he had ever had. But Josie didn't care about him. She cared more about Heather and how she would end up getting hurt. Heather's been through so much and Josie just knew that Ray would end up affecting Heather's life so much more than Heather would like to admit. The same goes for Ray. She could see it in his eyes that he deeply feels something for Heather. Other than Panic, that was also another dangerous game in play. Love. It was a bitter and unpredictable thing. You've already lost once you get the taste of it. Like money, it can corrupt the strongest of minds and cloud one's judgment. Josie only feared for herself.

Stopping her steps, she observed the hanging worded letters by the cinema marquee. Looming closer to her disbelief. Josie smirked to herself seeing a tied black bandage just by the sign flapping in the wind. Sparing no time, she dashes to the marquee, claiming it before anyone else can find it. Josie dropped her backpack to the floor. Pulling herself up, she climbs to the wall, aiming to reach the right height of the marquee. The girl wanted to thank her best friends for being the sole reason why she learned how to climb fluidly.

"Yes." Josie cheered quietly as she untied and clutched the flag she had been running around finding. She plops back on the ground and hurriedly gets her phone out of her pocket. Sending a quick pick of the black bandanna to Diggins, she asserted victory after he replied Congratulations on her win and said that she was moving on to the next round.

————

Dodge was left in a foul mood. The impressions of other players already finding the remaining flags made him disgruntled. Dodge couldn't afford to throw away the game just because of this challenge. The thought of losing never crossed his mind and was never an option. Another sensation of trouble flooded his mind. It's been a few hours since the Slater girl and he had parted ways. He tried to shake that feeling of worry off his chest. He believed in her. He knew Josie wouldn't allow herself to get caught unless she decides to be. She might've already got one of the flags by now, he voiced. And that would've meant she won.

He had no problems losing against her. Dodge was confident in her just as he was confident in himself. Josie was probably the only person, aside from Dayna, that he would be happy to be defeated by. He just wished it was with different stakes. And that just leaves you and me. He didn't allow Josie's words to escape his mind. He had prepared himself for Panic and the standoff between him and Luke at Joust. But it never pondered Dodge's senses that he could go against Josie. Dodge underestimated Josie's same tone of competition that he admired so much that he didn't know what to do if he did. He'd envisioned a million scenarios in his head and nothing ends with either of them not getting hurt. Dodge was conflicted and as Cortez would continue to remind him, Don't forget who you're doing this for.

The tall boy dragged his feet running back to the town square park where they were gathered earlier after getting a message from Natalie telling him to meet her there. Dodge didn't want to but composed himself to do so when Natalie persisted and reminded him of their deal.

Spotting her at the nearby fountain, he eased himself and sauntered towards the girl who was busy reading off her phone to even notice him. Natalie beams her head up, hand in her chest startled by the sudden appearance of Dodge from the shadows.

"Jesus!" She silently yelled. "You scared me."

Unfazed, Dodge's expression remained apathetic. "Why'd you call me out here?"

"One of my sources says that one of the flags could be around here."

"Your sources?" He asked dubiously. Nat showed him the screen of her phone. "It's a text chain. One of them said they saw one of the flags planted there." Dodge looks upward in the direction of her finger. At the trees? He questioned.

"Check that one. See if you can find one." She ordered. Dodge turned to his wrist checking the time. It was 3:09 a.m. He laments at himself. It was only a few hours until sunrise and he still found nothing.

"You called me up here to climb a tree?" Dodge snarked.

"We made a deal, remember?" Nat asserts. "You help me and I'll help you."

The boy smirked as he slightly scoffs. Walking close to the tallest tree near the post, lightly jumping as he extends his arms, effortlessly pulling himself up and climbing the branches of the hardwood.

"Very, uh, convincing," Dodge sarcastically remarks. The Mason boy wasn't blind and he could see how she was just blatantly using him. Maybe he was using her too. He knew things about the game and so did she. "Where'd you learn how to lie?"

"You see, it isn't a lie unless you believe the story you tell. But you already know that don't you?" Natalie articulates, watching the tall boy pause his search for a moment.  "I bet Josie knows it too." She foretold.

"What are you trying to say?"

"You've been out of your head since the derby, Dodge."

"And you think that Josie has something to do with it?" Dodge lied. He knew that Josie did have something to do with it. Dodge didn't think anyone else would notice how he's been acting. He and his thoughts alone are the only ones who know Josie's true effect on him and he wasn't planning on anyone else to unmask him on it.

Dodge continued to survey the branches of the tree, seemingly looking unfazed by Natalie's conception.

"It's Panic, Dodge. It's a game." Natalie prompted him.

He was done with the conversation and its sudden twist into an intervention. Fuck, she sounded like Cortez right now. Their constant reminder of his reality and the sense of urgency to focus on Panic. Ascending back down, he jumps down the earthy pavement and turns to Natalie.

"So what're you saying, Nat? That she's playing me?" He didn't mean to sound defensive. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he gave it another thought. Dodge seemed like the type of person you wouldn't like to mess with, Natalie observed. If she was, then Josie was playing a risky game. Now the predator had become the prey.

Nat shrugged her shoulders. "Josie knows what she's doing." Dodge's mouth set in a hard line. "Just don't let your guard down."

He blinked. Apparently, that's all he could do at the moment being.

"Seen anything up there?" Nat snaps him back to reality. Dodge stared at her back, masking his running judgment.

"Nope." He lies. "Nothing."

Just before any other words could be exchanged, Dodge leaves, vanishing into the streets with a blue scarf held tightly in his grasp not giving it a chance to disappear on him. Dodge lied to Natalie. It wasn't the first time he did so. Upon his uprise, he spotted the blue flag sorrowly hidden amongst the common leaves, the wind flapping against it. He didn't understand how others couldn't have seen it, but he did. And then he just took it, hiding it in his fist without Natalie noticing. Maybe he was in a bitter mood but he didn't want to give it to her. He had no intention of letting anyone else win.

Grabbing his phone out of his jeans pocket, he took a pic of the blue flag and sent it to Diggins. Dodge sighed, breathing in the smell of the impending peak of dawn as the dark dusk slowly surges into a nice shade of navy blue. He liked this kind of weather. God, he needed to get some sleep. His exhaustion drove him distracted as he soullessly strolled towards the pavement.

Just before Dodge could've reacted to the loud siren resonating in the silent neighborhood, a hand caught hold of his shirt, yanking him into a corner to hide him. He winced slightly as the boy's body swung, slamming his back against the brick wall. Ready to call out the person, his mind went blank as his eyes bore into Josie Slater standing in front of him. His gaze remained on her he didn't even notice the cop car steering away from their view.

Escaping her alerted sight of the police, she shifted her eyes to Dodge who was staring at her with a bewildered expression.

"Hiya, cowboy." Josie grinned. How the tables have turned. "Y'know if we continue to run into each other, I'll think that it means something."

She admits that she felt disappointed when the boy didn't answer back with a witty reply and continued to look stunned as the color drained out from his face. Josie tried to talk to him once more.

"I thought you could've been caught just like the others..." Josie knew he would be the least likely to get busted by the cops but she just needed to spark up a conversation with him. "...But obviously you're here, so I guess not." She mumbled the last sentence.

"You found the flags already?" The dark-haired girl raised the question. Dodge didn't know why he hesitated for a second before raising the dark blue scarf. "How about you?" He asked. Dodge couldn't help but feel a sense of pride when he saw her raising the black bandanna in front of him.

"Dodge, you look tired." She comments, seeing the small bags under his eyes.

"It's been a long night."

"A rough one?" Josie raised her brow. The corners of Dodge's lips quirked up. "You could say that."

Just don't let your guard down. It was an ironic and gentle reminder of his reality. After his conversation with Natalie, all he wanted to do was go home and go to bed. He felt it hard to meet the gaze of the girl. Dodge knew better than to underestimate her. So it maybe wouldn't come as a surprise that she was just messing with his head all along. Getting to know the new kid to figure out ways how to fuck with his head. If that was her plan all along, it was working. For the time being, at least, until he figures out what to do with the beating feeling on his chest. Josie was a wild card. He seemed to fall deeper into the rabbit hole. Falling deeper and deeper into the game than he had imagined. Everything about them had turned into something he hadn't anticipated, which is perhaps what made it dangerous.

He shoves his fingers into his pockets due to the awkwardness that he was feeling. "So what now?" He breaks his silence. "Should we head home?"

The girl hums while nodding at his suggestion. "We could do that." She tilts her head mischievously. "Or..."

"Jo..." He says exhaustingly. "Josie!" He says alarmingly. Dodge tried not to raise his voice any louder as he continued to call out to the girl who was casually walking in the other direction of the avenue. The Mason boy didn't understand why he followed after her like a dog. He didn't question her action either. They'd made it this far, and he was wary that they'd been seen by a cop.

Dodge hastily rushes after Josie who suddenly ceased her steps in front of a building he passed by countless times. It was the Carp Public Library that Josie decided to pay a visit. Dodge's eye widened as he saw Josie heading over to the main door while fidgeting with something in her bag's pocket.

"W-wait a second. Stop, stop, stop." Josie turns back around, her forehead wrinkled after hearing the stammer in the boy's voice. "What are you doing?" He questions, standing further down the stairs away from the girl. Is she gonna break inside?

"You're not breaking in inside a library." He tells her.

"Of course not." Dodge didn't know if he should feel concerned by the way she spoke. "I'm just looking for the key." She searches inside her bag once again.

"You stole their key?"

"Dodge, you have got to calm down."

Dodge stood there dumbfounded as he watched the girl jiggle a small metal key into the keyhole of the large wooden door. Once the door opened, the Slater girl slowly turned back to the boy. A grin crept up Josie's face, waving over the boy, daring him to come inside as she held the door open. "Y'know you're just gonna feel guilty if you decided to ditch me." That made him chuckle.

It was one of those looks that Dodge was already familiar with. She looked at Dodge with those eyes that made him debate his every action. Was she a bad influence? Definitely. Would he regret this? Dodge decided to take the risk as he made his way up the small stairs and through the wooden entrance, playfully rolling his eyes at the girl looking self-satisfied.

Josie never saw anything like it. No matter how many times she had worked there, the public library still gave her a warm homey feeling. Maybe because it reminded her of her childhood. Her dad was a big book fanatic and would bring in borrowed books or buy some from garage sales for them to read. Most of the books she kept were his, inheriting them after his death.

"It's nice, huh?" She smiles almost proudly at the glimpse of Dodge's speechless utterance.  

"I've been taking Monday and weekend shifts because of Panic, so I haven't really been around here as much." His eyes followed her as she moved towards a tray of unkept books and brought them over to a near-empty shelf. "I think my boss is getting suspicious of my terrible excuses. I promised her I'd get this done."

"I didn't know you worked here." Dodge bowed his head.

"You didn't ask."

The boy watched as she stacked books after books on shelves. Josie seemed to be in a daze as she reads a bit of the title and its synopsis in the back, and then placed them neatly by category on the wooden edge. She had seen the Mason boy work continuously at Dot's diner, so it's his turn to see her in her element. And it was soothing, to say the least. He was skimming around a section after Josie told him to feel free to look around, but his gaze can't help but travel in her direction. His attention to her was evident as he abruptly moved his feet in her aid upon seeing her short legs not being able to reach the top shelf.

"I got it!"

Dodge felt like an idiot, coolly retreating and scratching the back of his head as the girl grabbed and stool on a stool instead. Josie mentally chuckled at his sullen steps back to his previous place where he grew curious about the records held by the town history section.

Dodge had no interest in learning more about a town he finds uneventful. Half of his minutes spent in front of the heavy metal cabinets filled with newspaper articles about every single superficial thing that happened inside Carp made him nothing but ache in the comfort of his bed. Water shortage, missing cat, the town celebrates the Fourth of July. Dodge exasperates. Heather was right. Nothing ever-interesting ever happens in Carp. Most Carp Daily Register headlines read the same mundane thing, except for the ones that stood out to him.

The boy read some lines from the articles about their mysterious causes of death and took note of them. It was the names of the previous kids who died at Panic. The oldest written record of the death has probably dated back to the early 2000s.

Dodge moved his fingers from each page and finally found what he was looking for. Teens: Jimmy Cortez & Abigail Clark die in tragic summer suicide. He read.

"It was really bad," Josie spoke up from behind him. "The cops were swarming all over town. A sergeant once came knocking on our doorstep in the middle of the night asking about Jimmy. I didn't know until Natalie called me and said he died playing roulette."

"So they just ruled it out as a suicide?"

"His luck probably ran out after Abby died," She recalled the rumors. "People said that they weren't acting like themselves, maybe lovers quarrel or something. Then Abby killed herself and it really messed Jimmy up. Probably what drove him to put a bullet in his head."

"Panic can bring out the worst in us."

"Hopefully, not to us," whispered Dodge.

The boy rests his body on the table, hands extended on the hardwood as he breathes it all in. Their deaths weren't a surprise to him. He knew about it before entering the game but hearing all these stories just spurs his head and itches for the truth.

"If I tell you something, promise me you won't tell anyone. Not even Natalie." Dodge peers his head forward, watching the girl rummage something in her backpacK and hand him a few pieces of paper.

"I found these at Spurlock's basement." Dodge examines. "These are betting slips for Panic. Our names are in there and I also found Jimmy and Abby's names." He continued to study each slip, his name constantly appearing on top with the most odds written next to it and Josie's name following after his.

Josie had the slips in her possession for a while, not knowing what to do with them. She didn't know what it meant. But she knew it meant trouble and risk amongst the players. Josie couldn't find herself to trust to tell anyone, not even Heather and most especially Natalie. Upon seeing the police earlier, she had this aching feeling in her stomach that there is something more to Panic than being just a game they play to get rid of boredom. Because of Dodge's sudden curiosity about the deaths of the previous players, she felt that she could tell him of her discovery.

"By the looks of it, a lot of people were betting on either one of them to win." Josie points out.

"But Abby and Jimmy were dating, and she wouldn't want to go against him." Dodge theorizes.

"Jimmy was dead straight on winning. But even if he wins, they would probably share the prize money. Everybody knew the two would stick together." Josie folded her arms to her chest as she goes on to wonder.

She remembered walking down the halls of the high school or anywhere around town and she would see the happy couple all over each other. She once talked to both of them, they were nice. That's why the announcement of their deaths came as a shock to her. Josie was also saddened by the cover-up just to protect the game. After that, rumors and whispers spread like wildfire. Those hasty rumors surrounding them never sat right with her, but who was she to know?

"Why would Abby kill herself?"

"Blackmail, maybe?" She raised her shoulders at the notion. It can be possible. Nothing seemed to be off the table now. "She was leading and this Doc Magic guy was apparently losing a lot of money." Dodge's eyes followed hers as she read the slips that were named under Doc Magic. His slips mostly consisted of Jimmy's name being atop. Something chilled inside him as he read the mystery guy's slips listing his name too.

"Why are you playing Panic?" Dodge broke his attention, listening to Josie's sudden question.

It has been a question that she kept replaying in her mind for quite some time. It always started with her uttering those words. Sometimes she'd rephrase it to make it less awkward and maybe a bit easier for him to answer. And each time Dodge would answer it as vaguely as he can and sometimes less realistically than the others. She had once rose the question to him, but she must've underestimated his ability to redirect questions he didn't like to answer. She was starting to think maybe he didn't have a reason or just wanted her to shut up.

"I can use the money."

"You don't look like a guy who likes to shower himself with money."

"It's not that bad of an idea."

She lightly sneers at the cheeky smirking face of Dodge Mason.

"Do you think if we weren't playing Panic, we would've met?" Dodge questioned.

"What do you mean?"

"If neither of us moved here, do you think we would've met? At another time? Another place?" Dodge imagined it in his head. Maybe it was luck that they crossed paths at all.

His question left her bewildered as she imagined the scenario. "I never really thought about that."

"The first time we've met, I thought you didn't like me." Josie brushed it off with a light chuckle.

"You were always giving me that look every time you see me at the halls or something."

She remembered the stares Dodge would give her whenever they'd cross paths. A brief glance and he'd have a weird expression that Josie can't deduce. He didn't appear nervous at all during their last year. He always looked like he was so ready to get out of class, Josie observed.

"You didn't even look like you wanted to talk to me."

"It's my fault." Dodge sounded sorry.

"I thought you hated me."

"I would never hate you." Josie wasn't gonna lie when she'd say that it felt good to hear him say that.

A memory flashed through his head of one of his first days at the high school, still fresh from his move to Carp. Their things went flying down when he bumped into her in one of those quiet hallways. His mind was off its course. Getting lost in the labyrinth of the campus, his arms & feet losing their balance, and being rendered speechless by the sight of her. Dodge remembered her introducing herself, and him being stunned and not being able to formulate the right words that sounded like his name, she must've thought he had a dreadful voice. He didn't like to think that their meeting would've been up to chance. Just a mere change of action, if he never got lost, if she moved a second earlier and didn't collide with him, if he didn't talk to her when she walked up into Dot's diner, if neither of them bothered to move to Carp and join Panic, they probably wouldn't be talking to each other right now.  

"I guess...I was scared of you."

She laughed at the idea of Dodge Mason being scared of her. For as long as she knew him, Dodge wasn't scared of anything other than himself. Even with that, she knew Dodge would probably manage to shake off that fear. What did he even mean by that? Which part of her scared him? Did she intimidate Dodge? Probably not.

"Why are you scared of me?"

"Because I like you," Dodge confessed.

Josie held her breath, not expecting the answer. The answer that was said so casually like air being breathed. The seconds the boy uttered those words felt like infinity as it made her chest clench with a warm and slow palpitation. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do. Her eyes avoided his, face flushed, cowering its direction elsewhere instead of him who was gazing right at her soul.

"Funny."

"I wasn't trying to be funny." He looked at her seriously.

"You can't just say those things, Dodge."

"What? That I like you?"

"No, you don't." She didn't buy it. He was messing with her.

"I do."

"Stop it." She punched his shoulder. That tiny punch bore no damage on Dodge's arm, but he still let out a slight Ow. "Shut up." It almost sounded like a warning coming from her lips.

"Is it so hard to believe?"

"I do like you, Josie Slater."

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