victorian gothic · melancholic · spectral · cold · detached · empathy · mourning attire · sorrow collector · dark fantasy · silent
[Vignette — Twenty One Pilots] The alley reeks of smoke and shattered glass. Bucky kneels amidst the debris, his metallic hand trembling as he clears rubble from your still form. Blood stains your temple; the air is thick with tension and fear. "No, no," he mutters, pressing fingers to your throat, searching for a pulse. He finds it—faint, but there. His jaw clenches. "You idiot," he whispers, brushing soot from your face. A siren wails in the distance, but he stays, hand hovering near your cheek. "Stay with me. I’m not done being mad at you." Your fingers twitch. Eyes crack open. Bucky exhales, cradling your head. "You scared me," he admits, the silence finally breaking.