Wanderer Wip

wanderer wip

“Nice to meet you, Thomas” - Leatherface x Female! Reader

 Author’s Note: I guess you could consider this some sort of Au for the Hewitts. Nevertheless, please enjoy the little fluff with Thomas. He deserves all the love!

〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣

 It was a hot summer’s day in Puller, Travis County, Texas. The black cement that made up the road sizzled with intensity, almost like it was an illusion put on by a magician. The (L/N)’s took the time to admire the old farmland that sweeps across the hills of the abandoned town. The baby blue 1961 Chevrolet Impala that (F/N) (L/N) joyously owned sputters and spits as it tracks down the old roads.

  An audible sigh escapes from (F/N)’s lips as the check coolant light blinks on, flickering expeditiously from the dash panel. Fortunately, a small convenient store comes into view through a mass of trees. It seems rundown, with a few bikes huddled in the front. Rusted machines and old tires collect around the outside of the building. The paint was chipping off and the A/C system looked old as can be. 

  Nevertheless, they turn into the driveway, parking on the other side of the gas pumps from the scraggly group smoking pot from their vehicles. “You girls go inside and get coolant for the car. I’ll stay out here,” (F/N) says, eyeing the batch as they pointed towards the little family with envious smiles.

 “Come on sweetness,” (M/N) coaxes to her daughter, stepping out of the passenger side door. She was a thing of beauty, growing with grace as old age overtakes her. Her (M/E/C) eyes shimmer in radiance as the blazing sun catches sight of her. Petite hands brush past her short (M/H/C) locks, curling them behind her ear. (Y/N) wishes to grow old just like her. 

  The backseat door opens quickly after, and two youthful (S/T) legs jump out in modest Mary Jane shoes. (Y/N) (L/N) was the spitting image of her mother, though the soft delicate skin gave her away. The young girl follows along after her mother, mindlessly toying with the buttons of her overalls. 

  The door creaks as her mother enters. The strong smell of liquor and cigarettes instantly burn at (Y/N)’s nose, but she tries her best not to cringe as they walk up to the front counter where the shopkeeper sits. It was an old woman, with frizzled grey hair done up in a bun. Her blue gaze watches the two ladies with a dourly look. A release of smoke pours from her mouth as she takes another hit from her cancer stick. “What can I help you with?” She responds bluntly. 

  “Yes ma’am, we were wondering where your car coolant is,” (Y/N)’s mother replies kindly. “We just ran short.”

  “Middle aisle, probably at the bottom…” the older woman replies. 

  “(Y/N), would you be a dear and go fetch that for me,” (M/N) asks with a grin. 

  The inside, the girl realizes, was dark and dreary. The shelves were crammed with items in no particular order or form. As she examines the contents of the third rack, she notices a couple sitting at a table near the bathroom. They both sported leather jackets and glowering stares. She quickly notes in her head not to even look in their direction.

 “Did you get lost in there, sweetheart,” the older woman calls from the front counter.

 “No ma’am…” (Y/N) responds politely. She finds the blue bottle stuck in between two funnels before rushing up to the front, where her mother was having chit-chat with the owner of the store. 

  “There you are!” (Y/N)’s mother says, gesturing for her daughter to come closer. “Apparently this is our neighbor! She lives a mile up the road from where we built our house!”

  “Oh… Nice to meet you then, Miss…” (Y/N) questions softly. 

  “Luda Mae,” The older woman remarks. “You know, I have a son around your age. He’s on the shy side though…”

  “You here that, (Y/N)? Perhaps you can make a friend after all,” (M/N) exclaims with excitement as she digs out a wad of money from her pants pocket. “We will definitely come visit sometime after we get settled! How much for the coolant?” 

  “If you wouldn’t mind coming for dinner Wednesday evening, it’s on the house. I would love for Thomas to meet (Y/N).”

  “I see no problem in that at all. Until next time, miss Luda Mae!”

〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣 〣

  The tires skid across the gravel of their newly done driveway that travels to a lovely white plantation house. Big trees settle lowly around the property, providing shelter from the hazardous sun. (F/N) and (M/N) talk amongst themselves as (Y/N) daydreams in the back seat. 

  “Oh, look! Our strawberries are growing!” Her mother grins. She quickly picks up the paper grocery bag that was settled in between her legs and ventures over to marvel at the fruit saplings. “Do you see, my sweet!”

  “They are beautiful, mother.” (Y/N) says with a gentle smile.  

  “Oh girls!” (R/N) bellows from the front porch steps. “I hate to ruin your sight- seeing, but aren’t we supposed to be going over to the Hewitt’s home tonight?”

  “It’s Wednesday already?” (M/N) gasps, “Where did the time go… I guess we better get freshened up.”

      Luda Mae was standing in front of her kitchen door as the (L/N) family pulls up. Her wrinkled face invited them with a friendly grin as she waves. All of them are ushered inside, where white porcelain cups and biscuit appetizers were set on the small dining table. It had a long dining cover with brightly colored flowers printed on them. An artificial bouquet is the center piece. Luda went busy at work making sure all of them are accustomed to, pouring tea into each of the glasses in front of them. 

  “Charlie- he’s the sheriff- will be a little late for supper. His patrol is going longer than he anticipated… though he would love to be here to meet you, I’m sure.” Luda explains with affliction. “But Tommy should be done some time soon, no worries miss (Y/N).” 

  She starts to attend to her crockpot on the stove, stirring the red soup with broad strides. (M/N) insists to help her cook, but Luda rejected the idea immediately. “Are you sure, miss Luda-”

  “Please, just call me Luda Mae. No need to be so formal,” the older woman sighs. “And no, that’s alright dearie. What kind of host would I be if I made you cook? You just sit there; your company will be enough.”

  Suddenly, the screen door slams shut. The deep breathing of a man stops the chattering of the room, and everyone stills. A man in an overused leather apron and a sweat-stained yellow striped shirt stands tall in the doorway, frozen like a deer who was spotted by a predator. His thick hair was caked in grease, his curls kinking into knots. The air stunk of meat.

  “Tommy, welcome home!” Luda Mae welcomes him in with a kiss on the cheek. “These are the (L/N)’s; they are our guests. Now don’t be rude! You’ll be sitting by (Y/N) right there, she’s very nice.”

  Thomas’s body slowly pulls out the chair, sitting in it as he was told. His whole body was tense, and (Y/N) could feel the heated shaking of his hands. He adjusts his mask, looking down at his lap.

  “You have pretty hair,” (Y/N) says to him, surprising herself with the sudden complement. “I always wished my hair had coils like yours.”

  Thomas’s salt blue eyes widen slightly as he makes eye contact with (Y/N). Never in his life has someone complimented his hair. He was not used to such nice comments to be thrown in his direction, especially not from a pretty girl he was just introduced to.

  (Y/N) giggles a little at his reaction, but nonetheless finds the innocent behavior cute. “Good to meet you, Thomas. I’m sure we’ll become the best of friends.”

Genshin College Au: Part 2

Author's Note: This is my depiction on what I think Genshin characters would be like in present day college.

⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄⑄

❄️Eula:

For a senior, Eula tends to mind her own unless someone ticks her off. She’s not mean per say, but her attitude about things tends to keep other students away. For instance, the one time a freshman took the last muffin from the cafeteria, Eula made it her mission to track them down and declare vengeance on them. It was a good thing Amber was there to calm the  situation; the tears that began to stream down the freshman’s face would not have been a good look on the director of the dance club.

Despite her odd reputation with the student body, she has many friends within the counsel. Whenever a report is made on her for misconduct, it is usually Yae Miko that handles it. Despite only talking a few times, the mischievous Miko took it upon herself to look after the odd-ball Eula. You can find her most mornings having coffee with Jean and Rosaria. With her physical background, you can be sure she has met her fair share of athletes. Whenever her status forces her to the gym, she finds herself sticking to the lead tennis player, Kaeya. 

If you ever get the chance to become close to Eula, you can be sure that she will look after you, even without you knowing. She may have a tough exterior, but she does truly care for the people who give her a chance.

🍺 Beidou:

Beidou is the captain of the basketball team. Her life is on the court, and she practices non-stop to perfect her craft. Her teammate, Gorou, has taken it upon himself to help her as much as he can. Despite her being okay with being by herself, she gave up on trying to tell the freshman that he didn’t have to worry about it. Beidou has great skills when it comes to what she does, however; when a particular team pushes her buttons a little too much for being a girl, she will make sure they leave the court with red faces by the end of it.

 In the off seasons, she helps Yun Jin with props on upcoming performances and visits Kazuha in the Poet’s Society when she can. Many a time, you can spot her in the home ec room with Thoma as he teaches her a new recipe he came up with. Ironically, she has a thing for Nigguang in the student council. As carefree as she is, she settles down when Nigguang wants to share a new business idea with her. Though both of them are guarded in their own right, they both seem to soften in each other's presence. 

In all, Beidou is a great pal to have when you need motivation. She will push you hard and praise you when you finally accomplish your goals.

💃 Yun Jin:

Yun Jin has a lot going for herself, and she’s only a sophomore! Majoring in theatrical arts, She uses her time to fill her passion. She is the assistant director for the drama club, and is usually the one promoting performances and gaining traction for the club. She is also one of the lead singers in the school’s choir. Despite her rising popularity, she’s very modest with herself and tends to remark very often, “Looking back on my youth, I was terribly arrogant and captious… my goodness. I shall never let myself become vain again.”

Yun Jin is great friends with the dance class, and likes to partake in some of the classes from time to time. With her kind-natured spirit, she became very close with the dancers Shenhe and Eula. From time to time, they’ll allow her to bring her troupe in to observe and get inspired. Yun Jin loves constructive criticism, and will ask on many occasions how to perfect her craft. She will usually go to her senior, Zhongli, to ask questions and receive feedback. Though she hardly needs any at all, Zhongli is more than happy to put his take on it. In the small free time that she has, she likes to spend time with Xinyan, whether it be talking about modern rock or jamming out to their favorite songs. Yun Jin is open to anyone and likes hearing about other people’s passions.

Yun Jin is a very good friend to have. She will never compare herself to you and will support you on whatever you decide to do. She’s also very honest, and will help out however she can.

The only good thing that came from welcome to raccoon city was this line Chris said🤧.

Jess Asks for Help

Dean x sister! reader x Sam

Inspired by Episode 1

Description: As Dean is trying to convince Sam to join the the expedition to find dad, the youngest Winchester helps Sam's girlfriend in the kitchen.

╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼╼

        The road was eerily vacant as Dean slowly presses the gas pedal on the Impala. He stops in front of a particular building, observing the complex for any openings he could get into.

        "So, this is where Sammy lives?" (Name) whispers from the backseat, nervous to speak any louder in fear of somehow alerting someone.

        "Yeah," Dean replies while putting the key in his jacket. He steps out of the car, leaning down to look at his sister. "Stay in the car; I'll be back in a few."

        "Okay," she murmurs, leaning slightly against the driver's seat. "Hurry back." He nods before shutting the door.

        Soon enough though, (Name) got bored. She retraces her brother's steps and begins to climb up the building with the upmost caution. She makes it to the window and crawls in.

"(Name)-"                       

"I thought I told you to stay in the car."

        Two voices spoke at the same time. Both of her brothers were standing a few feet from the window. A smile etches across the young Winchester's face. She races to hug her second oldest brother. "Sam!"

        Hey, how are you?" Sam asks softly, gently wrapping his arms around her.

        "I missed you," She says.

        "Sam?" a woman's voice calls from the doorway. Light sheds through the room as a lamp turns on, revealing a pretty blondie in her sleepwear.

        "Jess... hey," Sam says, pushing his sister away slightly. He looks at Dean, frowning. "Dean, this is my girlfriend Jessica."

        "Wait, your brother Dean?"Jessica questions with a small smile, "so this must be (Name)," she said, looking at the only girl in the room besides her.

        "I love the smurfs," Dean says suddenly, a lazy grin on his face. (Name) rolls her eyes. "You know, I gotta tell you, you are way out of my brother's league." Dean proceeds to get closer to Jessica, ignoring the fact his siblings were still in the rooms.

        "Just let me put something on," Jessica replies, glancing at Sam for help. 

        "no, no, no. I wouldn't dream of it... seriously. Anyway, I got to borrow your boyfriend  here to talk about some private family business but, uh, nice meet'n you."

        "No," Sam states boldly as he walks over to Jess's side, "no, whatever you want to say, you can say in front of her."

        "Ok," Dean says, "um, Dad hasn't been home in a few days."

        "So he's working overtime, he'll stumble back in sooner or later," Sam retorts coolly. 

        "Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days." Silence fills the room as Sam thinks for a brief moment.

        "Jess, excuse us." the brothers walk towards the door, leaving behind the two females in the room.

        "(Name)," Jess says after a brief pause, "would you like to help with breakfast?"

        (Name) watches as the hot liquid drizzles into the coffee pot, rising ounce by ounce until it reaches full capacity. Jessica stood behind her cutting strawberries into a bowl.

        "You seem to know how to work that thing," Jess says, trying to make conversation.

        "Yeah. I make coffee for my dad and Dean sometimes. Never tried it though."

        "You're close with your family, aren't you?"

        "Kind of."

        "That's nice. You must have been sad when Sam left for college."

        "Devastated," (Name) mutters, turning around to look at Jessica, "We've been through a lot..."

        "I'm sure," she replies. She pops a strawberry into her mouth, then offers one to the girl. "Strawberry?"

        "Love one," (Name) smiles back, snagging one from the bowl. The two females begin to joke around, sharing the fruit between them, until Sam comes in.

        "Come on (Name), we're leaving," he says as he heads to one of the rooms at the back of the apartment. Jess follows after him. (Name) follows suit, but hesitates at the end of the hallway.

        "Wait, your taking off?" Jess's voice can be heard from the room. "Is this about your dad? Is he alright?"

        After a few minutes, Sam comes out with a duffel bag hanging from his shoulder. Jess leans against the bedroom doorway, waving goodbye. Sam took (Name) by the shoulders, guiding her out of the apartment and down the stairs.

        "So, your coming with us?" (Name) asks in hope.

        "Just until Monday."

        "Good enough for me."

Present Silence

C̲l̲o̲c̲k̲w̲o̲r̲k̲ ̲x̲ ̲N̲o̲n̲-̲B̲i̲n̲a̲r̲y̲!̲ ̲r̲e̲a̲d̲e̲r̲

❥ Warnings: mentions of neglect, mental instability, hints to eating disorder, mentions of cancer, death of a parent

𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴! 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜.

⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

   (Y/n) wasn’t much for silence, yet it was the exact thing that haunted them in the dead of night. You could say it rooted from a traumatic event from their childhood; an abandonment that made them become almost non-pellucid to the outside world. Not that they cared. They saw society in a fixed lens, seeing every little speckle of morality as if it was a blemish on their sketch book.

  However, the white tiled halls outside their room didn’t even make any motion. No reverberation of heels clicking against the marble or the creaking of an old wheelchair rolling down the narrow walls. It’s as if the present became quietude itself. Static fills the emptiness inside (Y/n)’s head, spreading down throughout their body like a virus. It bleeds into their veins, leaving a heavy formication. Their fingers itch and claw at the ashen sheets below them, pulling at the restraints hung taut at the edge of the bed.

  They wanted to scream, beg to the black figure standing in the corner to stop. It watches them with gaping eyes, its black irises widening with delegation. The creature wasn’t real, they knew this. The suppressed subjectivity of their mind was interesting. The morbidity that it plays with made (Y/n) want to laugh. To say that it all started with a drawing was much too simple.

  The doctors liked to prescribe it as a disease; a disease that will slowly consume (Y/n) as they spiral into madness within these matted panels. (Y/n) thought of this ‘sickness’ as gospel. With their new pair of glasses, they could distinguish what was true and what was false. Who was for them and who was not. That power does come with a cost.

  (Y/n) was quite bright as a child, finding new ways to express themselves as an upcoming member of a Utopia they thought existed. With a pencil and paper, they could abstract anything that popped into their young mind. They love to draw. It was an activity that allowed them to show others how they saw the world. Bright and opportunistic, with the sun shining over everyone in brand lighting.

  ‘That world doesn’t exist. Get over your stupid dreams of becoming something that’s unrealistic.’

  Their mother had told them that a long time ago, when the colors they once saw turned bland. When their father left, life as they knew it flipped upside down. ‘You can be anything, and I’ll be there for you,’ he said. What a joke. He should have known that the cancer would get to him before (Y/n) would ever aspire in a work ethic. Their mother wasn’t much of an enthusiast, especially after her husband died. The one luminosity that ever dared to make her smile was the one that left her with a kid she didn’t even love.  

  Life wasn’t too bad. (Y/n) still had the gift of sight and vision that provided them with the love of drawing. As they woke up from the distant memory of a peachy story, they then realized their potential. No one understood their craft though, using the aphorism that grotesque and dark art did not aid in this world’s progression. (Y/n) did not adjure this type of thinking. Didn’t they see it wasn’t that of a pretentious display?

  The school recommended that they be transferred in an institute during their third year of high school. (Y/n)’s mother was more than compliant for their requests. ‘They need medical help. A kid their age should not be thinking so deeply about these things.’ The nurses were nice enough. They had charming smiles and always made nice comments on (Y/n)’s latest projects. They were fake, sadly. Though, (Y/n) appreciated their efforts to perceive the meaning.

  The crisp breath of the inky silhouette fans over (Y/n)’s face. A shudder goes down their spine, pricking their nerves like hot wax. It lies on their leaden body, grabbing at the muscles of their neck with a tight squeeze. (Y/n) was hyperventilating again, the edges of their field of vision spotting. It was a trick. Why was their mind going against them so?

  They twist and turn against the restraints tied around their limbs, the leather rubbing into their skin harshly. The feeling of it burning at the pellicle of their wrists and ankles erupts another feeling inside the pit of their stomach. They needed to get out. They wanted out. The sudden anticipation to move ached in their joints and they struggle more against the phantasmal weight on them.

  (Y/n)’s hands slip through the material, and they heave themselves upward. The darkness emitting their sight disperses into the shadows of the room, leaving them to gasp for air. Rubbing at the red pigmentation of their abused wrists, they kick off the belts holding their feet. The distant sound of a clock erupts the quiet void of the room.

  The window adjacent to the door opens gradually, and the form of a girl crawls in. The constant ticking coming from the girl’s retina eases the density crawling at (Y/n) with vigor. The static falls into a pleasant buzz on their skin.

  The girl pushes her brown locks out of her face, her one hazel orb almost glowing in the moonlight. Her sewn smile stifles one to reach (Y/n)’s blue-tinted lips. She reaches into the bag hanging over her shoulder, unzipping it with ease. She pulls out a black book and tosses it onto the thin bedding. Despite her not speaking, (Y/n) nods their head in appreciation.

  “Thank you, Clocky…” (Y/n) huskily remarks. Their fingers graze over the rough fabric of the cover and they open it to see it was another sketch book. It was probably one she snatched from one of her 'jobs’. She would never say what she did, but that didn’t cause any frustration on (Y/n)’s part. “You always know how to make me feel better…”

  “I saw you screaming again,” Clockwork replies, “Did you have another episode?” She sits down on the mattress, crossing her arms.

  (Y/n) simply taps at their head, the pads pointing towards their left eye. They suddenly get up from their position, their malnourished body contorting with audible pops. Clockwork watches them with precise movements as they grab for a box under the furniture. (Y/n) opens it, grabbing some paper and two graphite pencils.

  “Will you draw with me?” They ask sweetly.

  Clockwork looks towards the door, before breathing out. “Alright, but only for a little bit. I’m not supposed to be here.” She places herself on the cold floor as (Y/n) positions the material.

  “I’ll show you the new monster I saw tonight. I’ll call it Present Silence…” They muse as they begin to drag the charcoal tip over the clean sheet of paper with eager. Clockwork observes as they wind the black substance in circles. Normal people would call (Y/n)’s art as childish or rubbish, but she was fascinated with it. They drew the way she saw the world.

  “Are you not in the mood to draw?” (Y/n) asks, stopping for a moment to look up.

  Clockwork hums in response before grabbing the book from (Y/n)’s lap.

  “I’m not finished-” They reply, but don’t fight with her as he looks over it.

  “Present Silence, you say?”

  They nod with a smile. “It suffocated me.”

  She gathers her thoughts, before placing a hand on (Y/n)’s head. She brushes her fingers through their hair; these were the hands of a killer. Her hazel eye locks with (Y/n)’s as they wait for a response. She gives them back their art piece and picks herself off the ground.

  “Where are you going?” (Y/n) says sadly, “Stay for a little longer?”

  Clockwork climbs over the windowsill, her hand holding onto the glass. She glances back, a ghostly tender look veiling over her harsh looking demeanor. “The next time I visit, I’m bringing something special.”

  “What you bring me is always special,” They answer.

  “See you…” Clockwork says in response, closing the window back to where it was before she entered. Present Silence once again greets the lonely figure within the room.

 ⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶