#I need to know why you saw his intestines so bad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

love-belle · 3 months

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lo mein kayamat tak hua tera !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which everyone knows that they want each other, except for them and it's time that they change it.

for when you find out forever waala love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // f1 x platonic!reader // aditya roy kapur x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - this is for my desi f1 fans and desi f1 fans only ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by adityaroykapur, lilymhe, maxverstappen1 and 2,681,561 others

yourusername where is my munda kukkad kamaal da

11,986 comments

username the caption is so real like where u @

username SHE'S BACK IN INDIA LET'S GOOO

username Y'ALL PLEASE TELL ME U SAW HER IG STORY 😭😭

-> username NOT Y/N SOFT LAUNCHING

-> username not to mention aditya ALSO posted a girl on his story and she suspiciously looked like y/n ☝️☝️☝️☝️

-> username i'm going feral over this someone call the twitter detectives

username her being back in india means we shamelessly get adityay/n crumbs and im STARVING

username in love with u hello ma'am how r u real

username tere saath saath aisa koi noor aaya hai

-> yourusername don't test me i will cry and marry u on SPOT

username oh i am SO ready for the amount of content we're gonna get from her like winter break!y/n is actually my roman empire

username waiting for aditya and her to just be fucking oblivious in the comments 🙄☝️

landonorris giggling

-> yourusername i will giggle ur ass CHUP ( shut )

-> username 😭😭😭 please free my boy he has done nothing wrong

username 4ever giggling at the fact that aditya was the first person y/n hugged after her podium and they ALMOST kissed like 😭😭

-> username my roman empire fr like i genuinely felt like i was intruding on something

username no one understands her like i do we're the same people and i will make friendship bracelets by braiding our intestines together

-> username i am sorry was that extreme

-> yourusername a bit but i like your commitment

username daniel i expect u to give us updates EVERY HOUR i need to know if these bitches are hopeful or hopeless

danielricciardo i hope you know that adi is currently contemplating what to write and giggling

-> yourusername OH !

-> adityaroykapur this is why i said no to you being in a bollywood film

-> username PLEASE OMG 😭

username i love the fact that so many drivers accompany y/n to india simply bc 1) they want to annoy her 2) they want to annoy aditya 3) they want to star in a bollywood movie so BAD

-> username they're pure of dumbasses your honour

username f1 grid in india where the FUCK is my indian gp ☝️☝️☝️☝️

username howling bc girlie would have her munda kukkad kamaal da if she just became more social

-> yourusername i do not appreciate being called out like this excuse u

username cannot wait for y/n to bully the entire grid into wearing traditionals 🤞🤞🤞

adityaroykapur i love taking pictures of you 💗

adityaroykapur wdym someone prettier than yourusername exists

adityaroykapur wdym i can't keep staring at her posts forever

-> username DUDE GET UP 😭😭😭

adityaroykapur you look leng in a lehenga

-> yourusername thank u :))

-> sidmalhotra actually there's no "leng" in "lehenga"

-> adityaroykapur 😐😐

-> username someone lock away sid PLEASE

-> username my biggest concern is who the fuck taught aditya what leng means 😭😭😭

-> username my bet's on lando ☝️☝️☝️

adityaroykapur glad you liked the jhumkas ❤️

-> yourusername wore them the entire day ❤️

-> username and i'm gone

adityaroykapur chand theri roshni ka halka sa ek saya hai ( the moon is just a slivery shadow of your light )

-> yourusername hayeeee

-> charles_leclerc DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE DATE

-> username omg

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, vickykaushal09, lewishamilton and 2,416,899 others

adityaroykapur black and white

10,729 comments

username i know who he did this for

username oh

username screaming sir why are u so

username OH MY GOD

username he posted this for y/n and y/n only y'all go home

username one chance ☝️☝️☝️

lewishamilton target audience reached 👍

-> adityaroykapur i owe you one 👍

-> username howling at this interaction

username i know that he got this idea off someone from the grid and i know exactly who he exactly got this from

-> username your case here 🎤🎤🎤 georgerussell63

-> username LMAO 😭😭

username giggling oh my god

username PLEASE I LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH

georgerussell63 plagiarism

-> adityaroykapur you told me to post this ???

username screeching no one's doing it like him

username i love how his acc is just promos and stuff and then this thirst trap for y/n and y/n only likee

-> username my man's dedicated idgaf

username cannot wait to witness y/n have a mental breakdown in the comments over this 😭😭😭😭

sidmalhotra as y/n says "what's the square root of 64"

-> adityaroykapur 8

-> kiaraaliaadvani ATE !!!!!!!

-> username i love stupid men and their chronically offline selves

sidmalhotra this why you had to go to the beach itni subha ( early morning )

-> adityaroykapur i brought you breakfast chup ( shut )

-> username soulmates 🤞🤞🤞

usernsme live love laugh aditya roy kapur

yourusername woah

-> adityaroykapur thank you ???

yourusername you're sooooooo

-> adityaroykapur ???

-> yourusername hey bhagwan ( oh god )

yourusername be my munda kukkad kamaal da ???

-> adityaroykapur is this your way of asking me out

-> yourusername idk is it working

-> adityaroykapur absolutely, i'll see you at 7 meri jaan ❤️ ( my life )

-> maxverstappen1 what just happened

-> landonorris did they just

-> pierregasly oh my god

-> charles_leclerc it was that easy ?

-> georgerussell63 we just had to get him to post shirtless pictures. wow.

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

yourusername added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram stories ꒱

adityaroykapur added to their instagram stories

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by adityaroykapur, landonorris, kiaraaliaadvani and 2,528,915 others

yourusername he's my sataaye manaaye rulaaye hassaye all in one ( i don't know how to explain it, these are lyrics from a song "maahi ve" and basically it says that he troubles her, makes it up to her, makes her cry and makes her laugh, so like all in one )

tagged adityaroykapur

13,628 comments

username SCREECHING OH MY GOD

username im cryint i love tjem os mucj

username OHFJJSAJSJHHSS THIS IS INSANE I TELL U

username i prayed for this

username no bc i KNEW it the stories gave you AWAY y'all are not SLICK

username i saw them ask each other out that's crazy to think about actually

landonorris still mad i wasn't notified in advance

-> yourusername stay mad

-> landonorris you don't GET it i had to find out through COMMENTS

username in love with them oh my god

username they're my roman empire ur honour

username oh my god 😭😭😭😭😭😭

username the maahi ve reference imma SCREAM

username the way they're literally the it couple oh my god

sidmalhotra finally ‼️‼️‼️

-> yourusername no thanks to u

-> sidmalhotra badtameez ( disrespectful )

kiaraaliaadvani don't listen to sid, I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU I LOVE YOU BOTH I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR AGES FOR YOU BOTH TO GET TOGETHER OMGGGGG

-> yourusername KI I LOVE U SO MUCH WE CAN FINALLY GO ON DOUBLE DATES LIKE WE PLANNED ☝️☝️☝️☝️

username sid and aditya on a double date obviously with kiara and y/n

-> username need to see this happen immediately for mental health purposes

username everyday i wake up and see some shit like this. why does the universe hate me

username i wish y'all blocked me before posting this (IM SO HAPPY FOR U OH MY GOD)

username me preparing to spot aditya at EVERY gp this year bc i know my boy is not strong enough to leave y/n for more than 27 mins

maxverstappen1 he breaks your heart, i'll nail gun his.

-> yourusername alright edge lord no more wednesday for u

-> username CRYING 😭😭😭

username im so HAPPY y'all don't GET it i've been waiting for this for YEARS

username i screeched and my baby cousin woke up y'all im NOT playing around

username since no one's gonna ask the important question here I WILL

-> username what the story behind aditya and the jhadu photo ( broom )

-> yourusername he was trying to make a point and said that if acting doesn't work out he can start a cleaning service

-> adityaroykapur gaadi waala aaya ghar se kachara nikaal

-> yourusername no we cannot get rid of lando and charles

-> landonorris fuck you

-> username NO BC WHY ARE THEY CATCHING STRAYS AT EVERY POINT

adityaroykapur PRETTY word is real and it belongs to her and her only

adityaroykapur a living angel

adityaroykapur making my pupils dilate

adityaroykapur prettiest 💗💗💗

adityaroykapur my phone just did a backflip

-> username lord when will it be me

adityaroykapur i have NEVER made you cry

-> yourusername false u called me a daayan yesterday when i had my hair down ( witch )

-> adityaroykapur BECAUSE YOU LOOKED LIKE ONE

-> yourusername WOOOOOOOW.

adityaroykapur we're cute together or whatever 🥰

-> yourusername whatever 🤨

-> adityaroykapur we're cute together 🥰 ****

-> yourusername perfect 🤞

adityaroykapur all i'm saying is, it would be a GOOD cleaning service

-> yourusername never quit your day job we'd go broke so FAST 😞

-> adityaroykapur what happened to "sheesh mahal na mujhko suhaye tujh sang sooki roti bhaaye" ( basically the hindi version of "i like shiny things but i'd marry you with paper rings" )

-> yourusername that's very rich coming from u considering ur roti looks like a different country every time

-> adityaroykapur wow.

username in love u don't get me

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, sidmalhotra, lewishamilton and 2,368,257 others

adityaroykapur i promise to take photos of you forever if it means i get to be by your side. lo mein kayamat tak hua tera ( i'm yours till the end of the world )

tagged yourusername

13,178 others

username im crying btw

username GOING FERAL OVER THE CAPTION WHAT THEBFUCK KK

username i audibly gasped i want what they have ‼️‼️‼️‼️

username THEY'RE MY PARENTS EVERYONE SHUT UP

username taylor swift writes songs about them btw

-> username ARIJIT SINGH writes songs about them more like 😭😭

username forever cackling bc sis really asked him out in the comments section

-> landonorris she got no game 😞❌

-> yourusername still pulled a bitch before u

-> landonorris she called you a BITCH adityaroykapur

-> yourusername WATCH UR BACK AT TURN 1 IN BAHRAIN I WILL ANNIHILATE U

-> adityaroykapur ...

username crying bc we're gonna get aditya at EVERY gp like im not even wrong bc that man's down BAD for her

-> username simply existing gf 🤝 obsessed bf

username god i see how kind u have to others

username alright y'all time to hug a tree 362 kmph

username O MAAHI LYRICS I AM DEAD I AM GONE I AM DECEASED I AM DECOMPOSING I AM SIX FEET UNDER

sidmalhotra happy for you both 🙄🙄🙄

-> sidmalhotra 🥰🥰🥰*****

-> yourusername stay mad bc i stole ur bf ☝️🙄

-> adityaroykapur did i unintentionally start another fight ⁉️

sidmalhotra finally no more talks about how much you want her 🥳🥳🥳

-> adityaroykapur that was CONFIDENTIAL

-> yourusername tell me more ☺️ sidmalhotra

username AND WE ALL CHEERED FINALLLLY

username the it couple of bollywood AND f1 i said what i said

username need me a guy who will post me like this or wtv 🙄🙄🙄🙄

yourusername bold of u to assume i'm leaving after the world ends 😕

-> adityaroykapur we'll haunt sid together 🤝

-> yourusername OMGGGGG YES

-> sidmalhotra MEINE KYA KIYA ( what did i do )

yourusername why do u always catch me off guard i look so bad 😭

-> adityaroykapur jhoothi you look perfect ❤️ ( liar )

yourusername i love u

-> adityaroykapur i love you so much more

-> oscarpiastri we get it MOVE ON

-> yourusername 😐😐😐

-> username LMAOOOOO

username i'm in awe WE'RE FINALLY HERE PEOPLE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #pierre gasly x reader #carlos sainz x reader #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x reader #f1 grid x reader #f1 x platonic!reader

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strawbeerossi · 7 months

Text

Roped In

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: Spencer is a man on the run, a man who you turned in for countless murders. What happens when he shows up at your new home after you’re placed into WITSEC?

Content/Warnings: Dubcon (I’m just putting this just to be safe), mild gore descriptions, blood, restraints, fingering, oral (f receiving)

Word Count: 2.4K

Kinktober Day Five: Bondage

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

You never really pictured yourself running away from everything you’d ever known, to pick up and leave without as much as saying a word. Witness Protection changed that for you. You missed your friends, your coworkers, your family.. Spencer hadn’t ever been a violent person before prison. He was sweet, had a smile on his face and a playful gleam in his eye. After being framed for murder and locked up though, it was like something snapped inside of him.

He’d been faced with horrific sights behind bars, not to mention that after tampering with drugs he was supposed to move behind those cement walls, he actually enjoyed hurting the inmates who had fallen prey to the batch. He could feel a warmth flood through his veins, a blood lust clouding his vision.

He’d lost all his previous morals, the oath that he’d taken going down the drain after the first kill. It was a list of offenders who had gotten out of prison early. People like rapists, child abusers, a lot of it. He’d marked himself as an injustice collector. The only reason he got caught? Because of you. You’d walked into a scene you had no business being in. You were supposed to text him before you made it to his apartment, to let him know you were on the way. Instead, you had the bright fucking idea to walk in when he was wrist deep in some rapists intestines.

He fell off the map after that. He tossed his phone, left town, and left absolutely no trace behind. The problem with Spencer Reid becoming a monster similar to the ones he’d spent over a decade hunting down was that he knew how to get away with it. He knew how to avoid Garcia’s tracking, how to live off the grid with strictly cash and keeping his head down.

However he had connections. Knowing that you were gone and in WITSEC, he knew he’d spend as much time as he needed to find you. After all, this was your fault. All he wanted to do was get rid of the bad men and women who did unspeakable things to the innocent people of the world. He did the prison system a favor. Overcrowding was too common, so why not let a silent helper take care of the issue? Too bad nobody looked at it logically.

He’d spent months searching for you. He’d gone through so many states, so many cities. It was exhausting. The payoff when he saw you though? Oh, it felt fucking good. You’d been relocated to Tennessee, hidden off in the mountains in hopes of hiding from the man who was on the news nationwide.

You foolishly believed you were safe, under a new name and in a new city, it was hard to track you. Besides, Spencer didn’t have the assistance of Penelope anymore, that would be his main factor in finding you. You were safe. Soon the BAU would find Spencer and this nightmare would be over.

Or you thought that to be the case.

You were getting ready for a night out with a few new friends you’d made over the past few months, actually quite happy with the relocation. You’d gotten a job as an administrative assistant at a paper company, so you were quite content with an office job. It was actually a blessing, you had a good paying job with benefits.

You hadn’t been paying attention to the news within these past two weeks, every outlet in the nation reporting on the search for the dangerous Spencer Reid. You’d vaguely heard a mention in the office, however you weren’t tuned in to hear about your psychopathic ex boyfriend.

You’d been upstairs in your bathroom when you heard the sound of your door opening and closing, about to call out to your friends before you were stopping dead in your tracks. “Y/N?! I know you’re home!” The familiar voice boomed through the house, causing you to quickly and quietly push the bathroom door shut before locking it. You couldn’t jump from the second floor window, you’d break something and make it even easier for him to hurt you. You didn’t even have time to think of your options whenever you heard the sound of heavy footsteps. “Are we playing hide and seek?” His voice was getting closer, your body doing its best to camouflage behind the sink, however, you weren’t small enough to hide behind the tiny sink.

The doorknob turned, your heart in your throat. This was it. He was going to kill you, show the BAU that they didn’t help you in the slightest. It could be a taunt, showing that he’d always find you. “Oh, are you hiding in there?! Y/N, my angel, I’m not gonna hurt you.” His voice was dripping with insincerity, fist angrily hitting against the door. “Don’t make me kick it in.” He said in a simple tone, a frown now on his face.

There were a few moments of silence, something that gave you a false sense of safety. He gave up. You have lived to fight another day. However, you had to cover your mouth with a shaking hand as tears welled up in your eyes when you could hear some shuffling behind the door. You were paralyzed in fear as you watched the door fall soon after, the door falling off the hinges.

“This is silly. I can’t believe you made me do that!” He huffed, tossing the screwdriver to the side. He’d come prepared with tools hidden in the trunk of the car he’d swiped. “Now, come here..” He gave a faux pout, approaching your cowered frame. You’d made a snap decision to punch him in the face when he was caught off guard, scrambling out of your hiding place before hurrying out of the bathroom.

You hadn’t gotten far though, all of the screaming for help being useless whenever you felt one hand gripping your waist tight enough to bruise and a hand smacking against your mouth to muffle your screams. “Shut up!” Spencer snapped, using his arm wrapped around your body to lift you.

Once you were in your room, he didn't waste time to use the rope he’d thrown on your bed to tie your wrists tightly, making you sit on the bed while he was grabbing your phone. “I already texted your friends. They are so sorry that you aren’t feeling well. Don’t worry too much, honey. We will be gone before anyone gets suspicious.” He cooed and cupped your cheek, causing you to flinch.

“I’ve missed you so much.” He sighed, patting your cheek with his hand while pressing a kiss against your forehead. “Sorry that I tied you up so tight. I didn’t trust you as much as I was willing to earlier after you punched me. That’s a killer right hook, by the way. Surprised you didn’t break my nose.” He chuckled. He was acting like this was normal, two people catching up after being apart for a few years.

“What are you planning here?” You’d asked, finally mustering up the courage to speak. “A-are you gonna kill me?” The next question came out much more shaky than the first. “I’m not gonna kill you. I’m here to talk. I know you’re scared because of what you saw but I promise that it was for a good cause.” He breathed. Yes, brutally murdering and disemboweling a man on his living room floor was okay. “You know what that guy did? He was notoriously breaking into women’s houses and raping them. I think we can both agree that he got what was coming to him.”

“He should’ve gone to prison..”

“Just for him to get released again after a few years? It’s a waste of police resources, not to mention everyone’s time.”

The part of Spencer that used to share the same sentiment as his girlfriend had died a while ago. “Look, just..” He huffed and brought his hands up to roughly tug at his own hair from frustration. “Trust me. You’re okay.”

You were staring at him, the shock wearing off of seeing the man who you assumed would’ve murdered you with no cares in the world. Now you were just confused. You assumed there would be some sort of revenge plot, a fate of suffering. Instead, you watched as he put his hands against your cheeks. “It’s so good to see you.” He spoke softly while running the rough pad of his thumb over your smooth cheek.

“I thought you left the country for a moment there. I searched everywhere. Then I landed here.. Funnily enough, I was giving up.” He hummed while eventually leaning forward to press a few soft pecks against your lips.

You wanted nothing more than to back away, to run and get help. Instead, your body gave in while your lips were pressing kisses against his lips in return. He’d reeled you back in all over again with little to no effort. Of course.

As the small kisses were escalating, your lips were sloppily slotting along with his as he took the opportunity to try and show you just how much he missed you. “My pretty girl.” His words were sweet like honey as he was pulling away. “Why don’t you let me show you how much I missed you?” The words made you shudder. “P-please do.” You breathed out, unable to help the blush spreading across your cheeks from his gaze. It was like he was a lion in the savannahs and you were a gazelle, peacefully minding your business while he plans to bounce. Plans to eat you alive..

“I’m keeping the ropes where they are, remember that. You have to prove yourself. No matter how much I adore you.” He stated. He couldn’t make any chances. He’d been to prison once and he wasn’t planning on going back anytime soon. You seemed to understand how things were going to go, willingly going along with his plans of keeping you as his.

“Perfect.” He breathed while moving to press one more kiss to your lips. His hands were tugging you to the edge of the bed while he was reaching for your hips, tugging you to the edge of the bed while offering a grin. “Now, just relax.” He cooed, hands now working on the jeans you were wearing for the night before tugging them down your legs with ease. “You had to pick the tightest pants imaginable, didn’t you?” He asked, an eyebrow raising. “I’m not surprised. Although it’s a good thing that I stopped you from going out in these. Didn’t need any obstacles in my way.” He murmured, hands ripping the panties you had on without any care.

Before you could complain, Spencer had already dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. His nose nuzzled against your inner thigh as he pressed a few kisses, biting down on the thick flesh as you let out a surprised yelp. His tongue ran over the fresh teeth marks in your skin before the muscle trailed up your inner thigh, a series of goosebumps spread over your flesh. You wanted nothing more than to take him by the back of the head and push his face into your weeping cunt, however the rope tying your hands together didn’t give you the opportunity.

Thankfully, he’d gotten the hint as he left his tongue lick a stripe up your slick slit, a low groan falling from his lips as he finally got just a little bit of a taste of what he was missing. With his hands gripping your supple thighs, he was letting his tongue flick over your throbbing clit, causing a gasp to fall from your lips. “You taste so good, pretty girl. God, I’ve missed you so much.” He whispered against your slick pussy, making you unsure if he was talking to you or your sex.

His tongue had given a few more licks to your clit before his tongue was teasingly licking around your slit, his nose positioned to bump against your sensitive nub with each movement. “Spencer..” you huffed from frustration, which didn’t seem to deter him.

You’d gotten antsy, wiggling in place in an effort to urge him onward.

When he’d had enough of the teasing though, he was letting his tongue devour your pussy. He was drinking up any slick arousal that you were willing to give him, fully intoxicated on your essence as the sinful sounds of his slurping noises were filling the room alongside your moans and begs for more.

His hand was moving up your torso before gently pushing your body to lay back against the mattress. His hands came back down as he was letting one finger replace his tongue, a low chuckle leaving his lips as soon as your walls were tightening around the long digit. “Look at this greedy pussy. Take my finger so well.” He groaned, slipping in a second finger while working on your cunt. He didn’t have enough time tonight to fully fuck you, knowing you both had to hit the road soon in order for him to get the hell out of dodge.

However, he was gonna make this count. As his fingers were pistoning into your soppy cunt, he was curling them deep inside of you, causing his fingertips to brush against the spongy button deep inside of you that made a squeal fall from your lips.

“How would you make it without me? God knows that any other guy isn’t gonna know how to make you cum the way that I do. I bet you’ve been thinking about me ever since you left.” He spoke lowly, continuing to fingerfuck your pussy at a quick pace, your velvety walls closing in around the two digits. Judging by the way they were spasming and the way your body was shaking from euphoria, he knew he had you right where he wanted you. “Gonna cum.” You warned, head thrown back against the pillow while your eyes were screwed shut.

His efforts weren’t letting up, instead surprising you by adding a third finger into the mix as he continued his assault of your leaking cunt. It only took a few strokes of his fingers before your head was tilting back, mouth wide open as you let out a loud moan. Your cum was decorating his hand now, the slick arousal trailing down his hand to his wrist before he was pulling his fingers out of your used pussy.

“Alright. I’m gonna pack you a bag and then we will get you cleaned up. We need to get out of here as soon as possible.”

Now you were along for the ride, unable to escape. Although you’d be lying if you said that you didn’t love it.

914 notes · View notes

talewrites · 6 days

Text

Fragile Part 8

Sorry for the long wait! This is a shorter chapter, because I’m making a poll!! :] Please go vote how you would like this story to end!!

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’ and ‘princess’)

Warnings: injury, blood, not proof read

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The brothers burst into the lair. They rushed past Splinter and April, who gasped when she saw you. You hung limply in Raphael’s arms. They quickly took you straight to the lab, where Raphael gingerly laid you down on the large table underneath bright lights. Donnie slid on his goggles and checked you, and cursed under his breath.

“Shit. Their blood pressure is extremely low.” He rifled through drawers and cabinets, grabbing various bottles and tools. Donnie filled a syringe with a clear fluid from a small glass bottle and brought it over to you. “Stockman took a lot of their blood. And if I’m not mistaken, they were fed a variation of barbiturates through the second IV in their back.”

“What does that do?” Leo placed his hands on the table at your side, looking across as Donnie rolled your broken arm facing up so he could slide in the needle and administer the injection. April, Splinter, and Mikey all waited by the door.

“Well, it has a highly sedative effects in large doses. That, and combined with the chemical soup that filled their tank, ….they’re starting to slip into an artificial coma.”

All eyes in the room went wide with shock. Raph turned away from the table and stormed over to the wall and punched the brick. Hard.

“And what do we gotta do to stop it?!” He said gritting his teeth.

Mikey rushed over to your side past Leo and picked up your hand, pleading with you.

“Come on babycakes! Snap out of it! We still gotta make fudge brownies together!!”

Leo placed a comforting hand on his little brother’s shoulder.

“Donnie?” Leo asked.

Donnie rubbed a hand tiredly across his face. “There’s not much I can do until I fully assess their injuries. I just administered some pain killers. They’re not strong enough to handle stimulants right now. Administering adrenaline like April did with us will only make their injuries worse.”

Everyone looked solemn. Leo was looking down thinking back to the lab where they found you. Trying to figure out if there was anything they missed. That’s when he noticed a purple splotch peaking out from underneath your shirt. He narrowed his eyes and reached out to touch you.

“Leo, what-?” Donnie swallowed his words as Leo lifted up your shirt marginally, and the blackened canvas of purple and blue skin was revealed decorating your stomach.

Leo let your shirt slip from his finger and his hand fell to his side, tightening his fist. His hands trembled with rage.

They all did.

“Bebop and Rocksteady….” Mikey said lowly. His expression hard and serious.

“Those bastards-” Raph was standing by the head of the table. Looking down and clenched his fists.

Donnie’s eyes looked far away as he reached out and hesitated to touch you.

“This is…. really bad.” Donnie’s hand trembled as he traced your stomach, pressing down in certain spots to feel the damage. Even while sedated with drugs and heavy pain killers you still winced at the probing.

“Three, no- Four broken ribs. Damage to the liver, spleen, and small intestine.”

Mikey turned and left the room silently at hearing Donnie’s report. April followed after him to comfort him. Splinter was standing in the doorway with a heavy frown.

Leo swallowed his anger and looked up at Donnie.

“How do we treat them.”

Donnie turned away.

“They need a blood transfusion.”

“But that’s-!” Raph cut in.

“I know. That’s why I’ll ask April and Casey to test their blood first. But most likely-“

“It’ll be from one of us.” Leo finished for him.

Raph looked between the two and stepped forward. “I’ll do it.”

“No, I will. It’s my turn to step up.” Leo looked from Raph to Donnie and nodded his head, then walked out of the room. April passed him by as she walked over to Donnie. She asked him what materials they needed her to pick up from their connection at the hospital, and Donnie started writing her a list. Raphael was assigned to go with her for protection and heavy lifting in case the Foot were out looking for them, and Mikey was sent to go meet up with Casey and bring him back to the lair after his meeting with the NYPD supervisor.

No less than 30 minutes later, Donnie had your forearm and ankle in casts, and two ice packs covering your stomach. Mikey had brought a clean pillow from his room to slide under your head. It was confirmed after some testing that Casey and April’s blood were not compatible with the mutagen in your blood stream. You needed mutant blood to stabilize the transfusion.

You needed their blood to save your life.

Donnie was rushing to get the IV set up. By now you were breathing hard with a slight fever, skin cool to the touch despite the heavy blankets they covered you with.

“If we wait any longer there’s a chance they’ll go into shock!” Donnie said as he wiped down your arm with an alcohol wipe.

“And you said that our mutagen will help them, right?” Leo confirmed, sitting at your bedside with the other half of the IV already set up.

“I said it will give them a boost to heal faster, but we don’t know if it will destabilize their mutation or not. We have a higher concentration of mutagen in our blood than they do. If their antibodies can’t handle the shift, they could end up overwhelmed and mutate like Stockman did.”

“So there’s a risk they’ll end up like us?!” Raph protested. He was worried.

“But their body will reject the human blood because of their mutated antibodies, like you guys. We don’t have any other options.” Casey reasoned with him.

“I don’t want (y/n) to die. I’d rather they live and hate us than die when we could’ve saved them.” Mikey said sadly from the table he was sitting on at the other side of the lab.

“They’ll understand, Mikey. Don’t worry, we’re all here for them.” Assured April.

“We must have hope. Their safe recovery is what is most important.” Splinter said in contemplation.

“It’s a risk we have to take.” Donnie affirmed. He locked eyes with each of his brothers, Splinter, April, and Casey, and once he got nods of approval from everyone, he inserted your IV.

“Now, we wait.”

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ddollfface · 4 months

Text

𝐓𝐨 𝐌𝐞, 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤!𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭 𝐱 𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐛!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

"Show me your thorns and I'll show you hands ready to bleed." ♡ Aaron O' Hanlon

Trigger Warnings; description of body mutilation, description of murder, mild panic, regret, angst (?), possessive behavior, toxic behavior, irrational behavior, reader is described as 'she' and 'her', reader is afab, bad writing.

If I missed anything, then please let me know ♡

It's 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐒𝐢𝐜𝐤!𝐏𝐨𝐞𝐭's first murder! Poor reader doesn't know what's coming... :(((

In and out. In and out. Just keep breathing, that's what he told himself. He could feel the blood rush through his head. The world was going in and out. God, when did it get so hard to think? It was as if he was spun around to tumble and fumble around. Where was he? Why does he feel so warm, but cold at the same time?

His pupils were dilated, zooming in and out, causing a wave of adrenaline to cloud his brain. He could feel everything but nothing at the same time. He could feel his lungs expand and contract, creating a vacuum. It felt as if his heart was being stabbed, the squeeze he felt in his chest every second was like someone clawing at his flesh. Tearing and ripping him apart, from within. It was like he did something wrong, something very, very wrong. What had he done?

Suddenly, it felt as if the elephant in the room was right there, right on his shoulders. That dread he was feeling was looming over him like a disappointed parent. Like a father's warm hand squeezing his son's shoulder, as if he felt bad for what had been done.

That's when he saw it. The blood. It was everywhere. God, fuck. It was everywhere. It was fuckin' everywhere. What had he done?

"Shit. Fuck. Shitting, fucking, hell! What the hell!"

He mumbled, finally realizing where he was. The noises of the city blared in his ears, the drizzle of the rain, the patter of peoples' fancy shoes, the whooshing of cars passing by. This wasn't good, at all.

What had he fuckin' done!? He needed to do something.

"No shit!"

He cursed, looking down at his hands. Blood seeped through the seems, ingraining in the palm of his hands, a flashing reminder of what had occurred. This wasn't good. The adrenaline was dying, his rage was dwindling, and his regret was blaring.

He needed to dispose of it. The man looked over his shoulder, at it. It was sprawled out, arms laying out on his side, and guts spilling out. His eyes were wide. You could see the murder in his eyes, every stab and every hit that thing took. It was all there. A sliver of blood dribbled from the body's lips, which are crisped and chapped. A shiver ran up the man's spine as his gaze wandered down to the body's torsor, if you could call it that...

The pancreas ripped and torn, yellow fluid slipping out, and pooling on the stoned ground. The intestines slithered out, clumped together like a decapitated snake. Blood had painted everything, but the rain washed it out, though barely scratching the surface. There was so much blood that the rain did little to cleanse the sinful scene.

The fat from the body's gut was spilling out. It was tinted yellow and looked like honeycombs from a beehive, but more plastic-like. It could barely contain itself from within the man's body, as if it was desperate to escape the confines of it's mortal body. Of course, it too was covered in that thick, red, goo.

What's the saying? Bloods thicker than water? Yeah, that checks out. It felt as if the blood was choking him, clogging his airways, and making it difficult to think, to breathe, to do anything. The scarlet liquid seemed to entrance the man, causing him to lose thought and reality.

HONK

Shit, what the hell? The man jumped and spun around. Nothing. Just New York traffic, it's fine. He's fine. It's okay. He just has to dump the body. Yeah, that's it. He can do that.

He gets to work, ignoring the gut-wrenching feeling that flooded his system. The feeling practically screamed at him to run away, to not grip the man's side, to not look at the intestines that dragged behind the body as he picked up the man. Or to not look the body dead in the eyes. Don't.

He did. He regrets it. God, it was like the man's eyes were looking through him, at something behind him. This made him nervous, it was like the dead man knew something he didn't. As if he was being pranked like he was the fool.

He's not a fool.

If anything, this man is the dunce. He's the one who touched her, his sweet, sweet angel. He's the one who allowed you to be dirtied, his beautiful muse. He's not the fool, the sick bastard, instead, it's the man who's now dead.

Maybe, if he didn't mess with what's not his, then he'd be alive. Maybe, if he wasn't a fuckin' pig, then he'd live another day but no. He's not. He was gutted like a fish, and it was rightfully deserved.

This man had gotten in his way, in his darling's way. He made you uncomfortable. He inconvenienced you with just a few words, and suddenly you wanted to cry. He wouldn't let you feel that way. He has to preserve you, your natural beauty. He had to kill this man! Honestly, it isn't his fault!

Sweat began to pebble on his forehead, the mental load being too much. He sighed, exasperated from flinging the corpse into the nearest dumpster, surprisingly not catching anyone's attention. Then again, it was late in the night in the busy city of New York. People don't have time to worry about others, even if someone did see him, he doubts they'd care... Well, you would... you'd notice him...

He knows that. God, you're so loving and caring, looking out for others. It didn't matter if you were tired or in a rush, you'd always make time in your day to help someone in need. You're such a sweet angel, his little angel. You just need protection, you need to know that you can't help everyone. You're going to wear yourself out, don't you know? Just let him take care of you. You do too much. You need a break, just relax and let him do everything...

He can make you feel good. He knows he's not the most experienced man, but it's the thought that counts, yeah? He'll show you, all you need is some convincing! He's sure.

I mean, for what is he, a poet, without his muse?

If you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship, then please, please call this number. Relationships, like the one written above, aren't normal and should be left immediately. Please, take care of yourself and your loved ones. 800-799-7233 (National Abuse Hotline)

#𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙨𝙞𝙘𝙠!𝙥𝙤𝙚𝙩 #tw; toxic codependency #bad writing #tw; toxic love #tw; murder #lovesick!poet x reader #lovesick #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #tw; yandere #𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡'𝙨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚'𝙨 #obsessive love #short scenario #not proofread

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dr3amofagame · 6 hours

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if i had to be accurate i think exile was not at all obsessive or systematic abuse, i genuinely think it was revenge gone wrong wait hear me out. we have proof that the whole cdream is obsessed with ctommy theory wasnt realistic or canon and if we take into account how weirdly cdream sometimes acted in exile with the whole letting tommy have fun with the trident etc we can kinda make paralels to similar stuff irl which is why i always looked at exile as revenge based bullying gone horribly wrong. like cdream really did act like a highschool bully and you know why it comes across like that? because both ctommy and cdream are hella young. a lot of people wanna make it more traumatic more abusive more horrific or gory or whatever but the simplest explanation is often the first one, it was all bullying. and i find it very very weird how people on the other side did not consider bullying bad enough for it to be taken seriously so they had to invent intestine cakes and whatever the fuck else just to consider exile "bad enough" to be taken seriously when bullying is already more than bad enough.

isolating the victim? check. aking them do something against their will? check. lying to them? check. pretending to be their friend? check. making them believe their other friends abandoned them? check check check.

also the way it was done, like really? literally the trope of no one coming to the party and victim sits alone feeling sad? what is this, a cartoon show about the power of friendship??

exile was neither "not a big deal" nor "horror movie levels of abuse" it simply was a sad arc with themes that do hit too close to home for many. the psychological ramifications that came from it? whole nother issue that needs a seperate analysis because yes, bullying victims can and do develop paranoia and some of the other stuff ctommy exhibited but not all like the whole ctommy still being scared of cdream, following him obsessively even months after it was clear cdream wanted nothing to do with him anymore, etc did throw me off because thats not really regular bullying or even abuse victim behavior??? i digress

tldr exile was bad thats a fact but it wasnt SAW movie franchise levels of bad

sorry for the rant, wanted to get my lore thoughts out

tbf exile being 2 weeks of vengeful peer abuse, also known as bullying, is straight up just canon

the "obsession" take that we specifically had issue with had a lot of issues in the way that it very deliberately rewrote c!dream's entire character to explain ALL of his actions through an obsession with c!tommy. specifically, there was a lot of malice ascribed to him LONG before exile in order to say that c!dream basically wanted to do something like exile from the very beginning to c!tommy, but wasn't able to until exile happened because c!wilbur was protecting him or some other shit. that reading relied on the worst possible faith retelling of everything c!dream has ever done + a good amount of just straight up narrative rewriting to emphasize how young and innocent and vulnerable c!tommy is and how obsessive weird creepy stalker grown ass man who wanted c!tommy to himself c!dream apparently was from day one, a take that emphasizes exile as The End Goal of months of obsession instead of being in service to some other goal as is canon. that's the obsession take that was passed around quite frequently that we specifically took a lot of issue with.

on the other hand, c!tommy being c!dream's victim because c!dream disproportionately blames him and took all sorts of shit out on him and found a degree of vindictive pleasure in hurting him is literally just. canon? that's canon.

#tw abuse #my asks !!

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peninkwrites · 7 months

Text

The Green Room - Ch 4 of 4

Showfall Media’s recasting process starts with a trip to the green room. There, cast members are offered the truth before the slate is wiped clean…

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 3

SNEEGSNAG - RECASTING 19

Sneeg feels a tight pressure around his chest, his head pounds, his mouth dry and tasting oddly bitter. He sees them before he hears them, a man sitting across from him, a clipboard in his lap, his mouth moving, and then the words reach him.

“–you with us, Sneeg? Can you hear me?”

Sneeg doesn’t reply at first, more focused on not being sick. He feels like his intestines have just been shoved back into his body.

“What… What the fuck is going on?” Sneeg asks wearily.

“Welcome back, Sneeg,” the man smiles at him. “I’m Dr. Smith. You don’t remember me, but we’ve met before. Could you tell me what you do remember?”

Sneeg squints blearily around the room, but there’s nothing of note. Plain furniture, almost like a waiting room. It might seem ordinary if not for the straps tying him to his chair. He doesn’t remember much, distorted things, faces, blood, screaming, running, arms holding him down, panic, pain, and it ending in fear. He didn’t make it out. He wasn’t the only one. He wants to ask the man who made it out, if anyone, but this man, if he works for this same vile machine, he'd have no reason to tell him the truth. Sneeg stares at the bindings around his wrists, tugging experimentally.

“I wouldn’t do that, Sneeg,” the man chides him with a laugh, patronizing. “I mean, really, where are you planning to go? Running didn’t get you very far last time, now, did it?”

“Yeah, well, better than just sitting here,” Sneeg says dryly, focus still on trying to break free. It would be hard, but not impossible, he thinks, to rip through the bindings, the material thick fabric. It would probably hurt like a bitch to get loose but, Sneeg remembers with a shudder and another wave of nausea, things have hurt worse as of late.

“What’s so bad about just sitting here, Sneeg? I haven’t even explained why you’re here,” the man offers like it’s something tempting.

“Uh, I doubt it’s for a fuckin’ free cruise, so, whatever bullshit you’ve got, I’m not interested,” Sneeg scoffs, focus on trying to get his thumb underneath the fabric without breaking it.

“It’s not bullshit, Sneeg, not this time. This is the Green Room,” the man says with something eerily like reverence. “This is where Showfall allows you a moment of reprieve, and then the truth, before your recasting.”

Sneeg stops struggling, glancing at the man warily. “Recasting?”

The man smiles, something cat-like there, as if he’s just caught Sneeg in a trap. “Yes, Sneeg. I don't know how behind you are, so stop me if you get confused or you already remember something. You are one of the lucky members of Showfall Media's brilliant cast. And sometimes, that means recasting. You don’t often need to go through the full process for recasting, normally you’re ready for it without rewrites. That took some work, but once we figured out the trick, you stopped fighting us. Haven't fought us in a long time. I was quite surprised when I got called in to see you, but after seeing what happened at the last show, it makes sense. We had to mask you mid-show, now that’s not something you see every day,” he tuts him again, endlessly patronizing. “Things happen, of course. The Puzzler was… less efficient than we’d planned, and the hat was much more effective.”

“Effective… effective for what?” Sneeg can’t help but ask, bitterness useless as nonetheless this man is the only thing offering him answers. He doesn't want answers, he does want someone to pay. “All that… that thing did was… I saw the blood, and…” Sneeg stops himself. He tastes bile in the back of his throat. He thinks of Charlie. He doesn’t want to think of Charlie.

“Getting a reaction, of course,” the man says like Sneeg is somehow naive. “Your apathetic character is necessary, especially considering your… problematic nature, but that gets so boring. That was supposed to get you to do something interesting!”

“Well, I mean, it did. It just wasn’t what you wanted,” Sneeg dares to sound aloof, and he hates the patronizing smile it gets in return.

“Wasn’t it? It’s not like you got away, now, is it? You did react.” The man still talks like he knows something Sneeg doesn’t, knows Sneeg better than he knows himself, which, Sneeg irritably realizes, he does.

“Okay,” Sneeg slouches back in his chair best he can. “Now what? Huh? What the fuck happens now? What’s recasting?”

“As I said, I give you the truth. You can ask me anything you want, and I will answer you as truthfully as I can,” he says like he’s offering Sneeg a gift.

“That’s… that’s recasting?”

“No,” the man laughs. “This is the Green Room. Recasting is the part that comes after, once I’ve answered all your questions, or once I think you’re ready.”

“Okay, so, what the fuck is recasting, then? Can you tell me that?” Sneeg asks.

“That question has to come with a warning, the answer to that––”

“Just fucking tell me.”

The bastard looks so smug, so satisfied. “You never like the answer.”

“Am I speaking fucking Russian or something? I asked you a question, are you gonna be honest with me or not?!”

“Of course, Sneeg. Always.”

Sneeg scoffs, disgusted by the man’s familiarity. He doesn't have the right to know him, not if Sneeg isn't even allowed to know himself. Still, he waits. Even as he dreads the answer.

“Once you’re without unanswered questions, once you understand why you are here, what you are, you can be wiped clean." There's something about it. The man introduced himself as a doctor, but he talks more like a preacher, describing a miracle, not a procedure. It's fucking eerie. "Your old memories are dug up in order to be reburied, and then we fabricate new memories over the old that suit your new role, see?”

“That… that doesn’t explain it, though. That’s not– What the fuck do they actually do to us?”

There’s a shred of pity in the man’s eyes, the pity of a butcher toward a lamb. “Even I don’t know the details, Sneeg, but I will give you what I can. You’ll be drugged, until you cannot say your own name, and then you’ll be asked questions, the same questions you’re asking me now! And if all goes well, if all goes easily after our chat here in the Green Room, you will try to answer them, and you won’t be able to. See, that’s the distinction. Without the Green Room, you simply won’t know the answers, which is quite different from being unable to answer them," he grimaces, "that is a much... messier recasting, and I will say, not something I'm comfortable discussing, and while our job is to give you truth, HR agrees with me on that one, there are limits. Having to explain all that, well, that's a hostile working environment.”

“It is?” Sneeg says incredulously. “What… what the fuck d’you mean drugged? That’s…” Sneeg hates that his first thought is not horror at what has already been said, but suspicion. Whatever is left unspoken, whatever Dr. Smith is refusing to talk about, that is what Sneeg wants to know. He knows he shouldn't, but that nagging, curious dread remains. “That’s… that’s too simple. After all the fucked up shit you guys have done–”

The man leans forward, as if excited. “What are you referring to, Sneeg? Do you remember something? Something bad?”

“Yeah, yeah I fucking do, I remember–” Sneeg stops himself. His head feels fuzzy. “I… I remember…” It comes to him slowly, uneasily. “I remember how it ended. I tried to get away again, after I held back… I held back Austin, and Ranboo made it through. And… and something bad happened to Austin,” Sneeg winces. “He… he broke in front of me.”

“And you, Sneeg?”

“I was… I was dragged off, I… I was told I was finished, but I…” the memories come back clearer now, with a vicious, ill-gotten pride. “I fucking ran again. You guys couldn’t catch me! I… I made it, and there was a door, a way out, but then–” Sneeg feels like his stomach is twisted in knots. “Then…”

“Then what? What do you remember?”

“I was scared. Worse than… worse than fucking scared, I…” Sneeg remembers. It tore him open. He lived far too long after that, maybe mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity, until it finally killed him. “I should be dead.”

“No need to talk like that, Sneeg. You are a valued member of our cast.”

“No, no I mean I literally should be fucking dead,” he snaps.

“Well, you did die, Sneeg. Hair and makeup had to fix you up. They’re quite talented,” the man gestures to all of him.

“Hey, what the fuck happened to… to Ranboo?" Sneeg remains focused, he doesn't care about the fucking magic of Showfall, he needs to know other horrors instead. "He made it out of that room, what did you guys do to him?”

“We didn’t do anything to him, Sneeg,” the man says like he’s in on a joke. “I’d imagine he’s being prepped for recasting as well. Normally, cast members like you don’t need hard resets, but Ranboo, our little hero, of course needs a thorough recasting. Last time it got a bit messier, we’re hoping the new mask design would help with that, I guess we’ll see!”

“Ranboo, Niki, they’re fucking kids, alright? Like, they didn’t deserve any of this shit, how the fuck can you take two kids that are barely 20 and put them through this shit?” Sneeg wishes it were only anger in his voice, not pain.

“Actually, Sneeg, Ranboo is not quite 20, he’s still 19!” Dr. Smith says brightly.

Sneeg takes this in like one more knife to the chest among many. Niki got shot. She begged for her life and then she died and Sneeg did nothing. He didn’t feel anything, he didn’t do anything. “I couldn’t… I couldn’t get out, I couldn’t– I couldn’t fucking help them…”

“Help them how, Sneeg?” He laughs. “If you’d made it out, no one was going to come back to rescue them. If you made it through that door, you’d end up in another corner of the set, and we would have stopped you.”

“What about outside, huh? Let’s say I made it past that– that thing, let’s say I made it past whatever it is that comes next, if I made it out of here, you really think no one would fucking stop this?” Sneeg doesn’t know what he’s hoping for. He never made it out.

“Actually, Sneeg, you of all people should know that… well, no one is going to choose the word of a man who technically doesn’t exist over one of the most profitable media empires in the world.”

Sneeg does know better. He doesn’t know how, but he knows the cops would be useless, the system outside of here is just as broken as within, and Sneeg is just as helpless to do anything about it. “Niki got shot. Charlie got… he got something done to him on that operating table, like, I don’t–” Sneeg shuts his eyes tightly. He can still see it. The blood, the way that Charlie had screamed, the way he’d still been alive. How could someone be alive through that? “A-And the others died too, and they all died bloody, and Ranboo was the only one I saw walk away. What did you do to them?”

“I told you, Sneeg. We, as Showfall, did very little. We… we facilitated things, sure, but we didn’t do anything to Ranboo. I mean that, we are responsible for the Puzzler shooting Nihachu, we are the ones that put Slimecicle in that hospital bed, although, to be clear, that was not Charlie’s last role, he ended another way, but what happened to Ranboo? Let’s just say we weren’t the ones that pulled the trigger,” he sounds so proud.

Sneeg starts to tug his wrists free, no longer frantic struggles without aim, he focuses on getting his thumb tucked in tight enough to pull loose. He keeps talking. “What do you mean? What happened to Charlie? How the fuck did you get him off that hospital bed? How could he… how could he do anything after that?”

“Hair and makeup, Sneeg! Hair and makeup,” Dr. Smith says cheerfully. “Truly, they work some magic. Charlie was fixed up and ready to stream on Twitch in time for that last episode! The same way you’ve been restored from your little… ah, shall we say cameo in episode 3.”

Sneeg does not look down at his wrists, he stares at the doctor, and he keeps talking. “What… what trigger, man? You said you guys didn’t pull the trigger on Ranboo, then who the fuck did? Is that what happened? He got shot down just like Niki?”

“No, no, that’s not our usual style, Sneeg. Not much performance to that. Hm, how do I describe the finale to you?” The man leans back in his chair, almost wistful, and Sneeg tugs a little harder. He glances at his wrists and sees that the right one has started to bleed. He keeps going. So does the doctor. “I would say, we did a little refresh on crucifixion.”

This makes Sneeg pause, blood running cold. “What… what the fuck does that mean?”

“Unimportant, but the one that… that killed Ranboo, the ones that chose to let them die, that was the audience. Isn’t that fun? Audience participation! If it makes you feel any better, they only did so after Ranboo begged them to. He wanted to die, actually! So the audience gave him what he wanted!”

Sneeg’s right hand slips free, slick with blood, and he doesn’t wait to try and untie the other. His goal is not to escape. His goal is to make the bastard who boasted about torturing a teenager fucking bleed.

The good doctor clearly wasn’t expecting that. He takes too long to get out of reach, and by that time, Sneeg has his free hand grabbing onto a fistful of his hair, slamming the man’s face into his knee. It hurts like a bitch and Sneeg can only hope it hurts the guy worse.

It’s all he gets in. One good hit, and there are hands grabbing him, dragging him back, holding him down even as he struggles viciously. “Get the fuck off of me! Let go! Don’t fucking touch me!”

Dr. Smith has collapsed out of his chair, one hand clutching his bleeding nose. He motions vaguely toward the masked figures holding him down, and they take their orders. Sneeg sees a mask lowered over his face, just as before, it is a mask with needles, strange sensors, and he knows if he lets them put that fucking thing back on him, he won’t be himself again for a long time. Knowing doesn’t make it any easier to fight.

He’s still conscious, but he cannot move. He can only listen, a captive audience within his own body.

“I… I expected better from you, Sneeg. My mistake. See, this is why we need to keep you in a passive role. You need that apathy, don’t you, Sneeg? Otherwise, you get like this,” he scoffs, voice delightfully muddled by blood. “My recommendation to the casting department, is next time, make him a villain, alright? If he can’t handle being passive, if that makes him break, next time he’ll be the one to do the breaking, how about that?” There’s spite behind his words. Sneeg cannot even snap back. “All that anger and violence,” he tuts him. “Next time we meet, maybe you’ll remember hurting your costars and have a bit more distaste for it, hm?”

Sneeg stands, even as he had no intention of moving, and he leaves. His wrist stings, his knee throbs with every step, and he tries to cling to that. He hurt them in some way. He couldn’t protect anyone, but he tried. He wasn’t apathetic, not while himself. That is no consolation when he knows soon enough he’ll be molded into something worse than apathy. He tried to save them. It doesn’t matter. He never made it out.

#my writing #genloss #generation loss #wahoo this guy is done! We LOVE the horrors here!

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corneliathegreat · 8 months

Text

Stomachs 'n life presents:

"🍰Cake conundrum!🎂"

• °H&M°

• "Marieeee...!"

• The brunette closed her book and frowned. She told Hayden not to try the samples at Sugar and spice, but as usual, he didn't listen. Sure, the sweets there are amazing, but he knows what he can and can't handle. She stood up with a huff. Already knew what he was say was gonna say.

• 'Can you cuddle me until it's stops'

• Ugh! She has a job, dang it. She can't coax him everytime he has a self-inflicted stomachache. Marie swung open the door. Surprisingly, she saw a glorious sight. Her boyfriend was laying on the bed. Sweating, face twisted with agony, and his shirt was missing. She was in awe, BUT, remembered she was mad at him.

• "So,"

• She said, crossing her arms.

• "What's wrong?"

• Her tone was stiff and irritated. She wanted to make sure Hayden knew she wasn't falling for his "distressed" act. Either he didn't notice or he was purposely ignoring it, cause he groaned really dramatically.

• "I need your help."

• Hayden said softly. Marie scoffed.

• "Why Hayday?"

• She said, slowly approaching the bed.

• "Is it because somebody went back to the Sugar and spice when I wasn't looking?"

• She questioned, slowly crawling towards the blonde. Fear crept into him. Not only is the love of his life calling him out, but he could feel alot of stirring in his lower intestines. Like something was bubbling up real bad. He opened his mouth to explain, but she wasn't done talking.

• "And ate 5 bite sized cakes instead of 2?"

• She laid down, pressing her body against his.

• "Is that why?"

• Hayden sighed, feeling defeated. Marie wasn't a detective for no reason. But maybe he hasn't lost quite yet. He wrapped his arms around her neck and smirked.

• "That's my Enola Holmes."

• His girlfriend pouted, but still laid down in the crook of neck.

• "I told you, I like Sherlock more."

• He giggles and settles into a more comfortable position, moving Marie around as well. This might work. She's way calmer than five seconds ago. Just a few more sweet sentences and a shoulder massage, and he's in the clear!

• Grrrggg...

• Suddenly, his stomach grumbled. His eyes shot open. Crap, he forgot about the commotion from earlier!

• GrrRrrggg...!

• Once again, his stomach voiced another rumbly complaint. He looked around. Maybe he could grab a pillow or...no, Marie's on him. She's calm right now and he wants to keep it that way. His stomach began to grumble more.

• Rrrrwwllll...! GrrURRRglll...!

• He groaned, covering his burning face. Why were 5 LITTLE cakes causing such a ruckus? It felt and sounded like a UFC fight was starting in there. A dull pain hit, waking up from his thoughts. Hayden looked down, feeling distraught. It was Marie! Her extra weight was driving guts insane. Ahh, what should he do!?

• The brunette, on the other hand, snickered. She knew Hayday's stomach was getting worse because she on it. And she didn't plan on moving either. If he doesn't wanna take care of his stomach, fine. But she's not helping with the aftermath.

• GrRRRggg~!

• Shit...! Not only is this embarrassing, but its really starting to hurt too. It felt like everything he ate earlier was clumping together and bubbling. Like his intestines were going on strike or something.

• RrrRummmble~!

• Dang and it's cramping up! Hayden squirmed. His stomach was going crazy! In the midst of his suffering, the sickee looked down at his girlfriend. (Who looked extremely peaceful and not suffering at all)

• "Marie,"

• "Mm?"

• Hayden bit his lip, stopping a pain groan exiting his lips. Man, she had to move. Just off the bubbliest area.

• "Scoot up for me?"

• He asked, with puppy dog eyes. Marie smiled and complied. BUT, she sat up too. On his aching stomach. Rambunctious growls erupted from his intestines. What? He hasn't learned his lesson yet.

• GrrrOOOalll~! RrrrRrrr~!

• "Godammit, Marie..."

• Now he couldn't even coax his stomach! Or at least move into a better position. His girlfriend snickered and bounced a bit, rocking the content of his stomach around.

• RRRRG~!

• "Mar-"

• •°Urp!°•

• A burp forced it's way out. He covered his mouth and looked down. Gas bubbled up quickly and slowly...

• GRRRMMMBLLLL~!

• It erupted. Hayden gripped his girlfriend's shoulder as his midsection growled fiercely. For the love of- he couldn't do this anymore! The roaring guts, the embarrassment, the sudden gassiness. All of it was WAY past overdue. He just wanted it to stop.

• "Baby..."

• Marie paused, looking down at him unbothered. Hayden thought about next sentence carefully. (The room would've been silent, if his stomach wasn't still rumbling up a storm)

• "I'll be more responsible with what I eat, okay?"

• The black haired girl, raised an eyebrow.

• "Really?"

• He nodded.

• "Feeling like this sucks."

• As if on cue, his stomach rumbled loudly.

• Urrrrggg...!

• A burp traveled up his throat. But, he swallowed it back down, resulting in another upset rumble.

• RrrRRRrrr...burrrblll~!

• Hoo boy. Marie kissed his forehead and ran her fingers down his long hair.

• "What am I gonna do with you?"

• Hayden blinked innocently.

• "Cuddle me?"

• His gal burst out laughing.

• "Sure, Hayday."

• She hopped off of him.

• "But first, lemme get something to settle your guts."

• "You sound like a garbage disposal."

• RRRGG~! grrrwlll...!

• He was hearing more coffee maker, but a garbage disposal is accurate too. He hugged his rumbling middle.

• "Touche, babe, touche."

Kehehehe! Not bad for my first belly rumbling fic. I already really like these twos relationship. A flirt and a grouch. Next tale comes out Tuesday!

(And shout out and apology to @ymmyomm If you want these dividers removed, I'll do it with no fuss)

#stomach ache #stomach noises #gassy belly #stomach ache fic #digestion #my ocs #couples #h&m #sickfic #cake #cake dividers #corneliathegreat

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zhongster · 2 years

Note

I need more about Lloyd burping, the idea is just so hot to me 🥵

Alright y’all I tried using onomatopoeia this time, let me know what you think!

THIS IS KINK CONTENT, DON’T READ IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT

Agent Twilight, or rather, Loid Forger was not having a great night. He had been on so many stressful side missions (along with Operation Strix) lately, that he was starting to experience physical side effects. And by physical side effects he meant a really bad stomach ache.

On this particular night Loid sat with his wife, Yor, and his daughter, Anya, on the couch. Earlier that day, Anya had begged her parents to watch the newest episode of Spy Wars with her and that is exactly what the family was doing at present.

Loid felt like his stomach was bloating up even more with each breath he took. He knew he would not be able to hold the air in his stomach for much longer. Right at that moment, Anya shifted on the couch next to him, snapping him out of his thoughts. She settled back down a few seconds later, laying her head on his stomach. “Oh no…” Loid thought, realizing she would very likely be able to hear his intestinal distress in that position.

“GRWWWWL!” Right on cue, Loid’s stomach omitted an obscenely loud growl right against Anya’s ear. She sat up looking slightly annoyed, “Papa’s tummy is noisy!” She complained. Yor sat up, “Oh? Why’s that?” She asked, concern in her eyes. Loid waved his hands in a dismissive manner, “oh it’s nothing Yor, just a stomach ache.”

“OH!” Yor’s face lit up, “I know exactly what to do, Yuri used to get stomach aches all the time when we were young!” Before Loid could register what she said Yor was already pulling his shirt up and placing her hand on his slightly distended stomach. “Aww Loid your tummy feels so bloated,” she cooed sympathetically. “Ahh Yor- please stop- you’re gonna make me-” just then Loid felt a sizable pocket of air travel up his chest which he barely managed to swallow back down. He pressed a fist to his mouth and swallowed heavily, desperately trying to keep the gas in his stomach from escaping. Yor saw him do this began to panic, “Oh no, what was that? Did I make you feel sick? I’m sorry!”

Loid felt bad for making her worry, so as much as he didn’t want to… “No Yor, I’m just… having a hard time holding them back…” he admitted. Yor cocked her head to the side, confused, before realization dawned on her face. “OH! Well if you need to burp Loid no need to hold back on my account” Yor said, innocent smile spreading across her face. Loid’s face flushed and he began to splutter, unable to form a proper response.

Apparently Anya was growing fed up with her parents talking during her show because she stated “Papa needs to burp” before jabbing Loid right in the stomach. This time Loid couldn’t hold the air back, but he did manage to stifle the belch in his mouth. “HHHMRRRRRRP!”

Loid was completely mortified. He definitely hadn’t meant for that to come out. “Excuse me, I’m so sorry” he hastily apologized. “Wow Papa that was loud!” Anya giggled. Loid was approximately two seconds from keeling over in embarrassment when he heard Yor chuckle sweetly. “Now doesn’t that feel better?” She asked him. Before loid was able to answer his stomach let out another painful groan. “It sounds like the you still have a lot of air in there Loid,” Yor analyzed “I think it would definitely help if you don’t hold back.”

Loid sighed, realizing his family was not going to let this go. He sat forward and placed his elbows on his knees as Yor started rubbing up and down his spine. After a few minutes Loid felt another pocket of air travel up his chest however this time, as instructed, he did not hold back. Turning away from his wife, he placed a fist over his mouth and released a longer and louder belch than the one he had let out before: “UUUUUUURRRRRPPPP!”

“Oh god, excuse me,” Loid followed up. “It’s okay Loid,” Yor reassured “We’re your family, we’d never judge you for something as silly as burping.” God Yor really was an angel. She continued to rub up and down his back causing him to release low, long, rolling belches every couple of minutes, usually followed by some variation of “good job” from Yor.

Eventually there was a lull in the frequency with which Loid was releasing the pent up air, as he had begun to feel it build up behind his sternum, but it wasn’t coming out. This sensation quickly grew very uncomfortable and he rubbed his chest ever so slightly. Yor figured out what was going on, of course, and began to pat his back rather than rub it. Loid hated having to be burped like a baby but by god did it work because a few minutes later Loid was unable to stifle the next belch at all. “HHHHHHHHUUUUUUUURRRRRRRPPPPPP!” The belch was absolutely ginormous. Anya busted into a fit of giggles as Loid struggled to catch his breath as soon as it ended. “I bet that felt good!” Yor exclaimed with that ever-present sweet smile on her face. “It did…” Loid quietly admitted in response.

Yor just smiled wider at this and rubbed his shoulder in a loving manner. It was at this moment, however, that she realized just how intimate their position was. She proceeded to jump back from Loid, face bright red. “Okay well I’m glad you’re feeling better! I’m going to go um… take a shower!” She hastily explained before bolting out of the room, leaving Loid feeling confused but oh so blissfully empty back on the couch.

#burping #eructophilia #belching #spy x family #loid forger #yor briar #yor forger

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total-lunareclipse4 · 2 years

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🌜Broken strings and an accidental wingman🌛

pairing: eddie munson x female! reader

summary: after Dustin, the kid you’re babysitting, breaks one of the strings of your bass, you make him pay for another. Oddly enough, Eddie Munson happened to be at the same shop as you at the same time as you.

warnings: none! i find this very fluffy what can i say

word count: 1.6k ish

It was the second time this month. What was annoying you the most was the fact that this time it hadn’t even been your fault. You had warned Dustin not to play with it, but he’d done it anyway and now you were both paying the prize.

“Shit!” You heard him say from downstairs, immediately knowing what exactly had been the cause of his profanity.

There went your afternoon of studying, one that you frankly quite needed. You almost had told Mrs. Henderson that you were busy and couldn’t watch her son, but you enjoyed having Dustin around, even when he did stuff like this.

“You little bastard, if what I think just happened actually happened I will gut you and use your intestines as jewelry!” You shouted from the bottom of the stairs as you made your way up toward your room.

“I’m sorry!” Dustin yelled back.

Standing in front of your bedroom door, you tried opening it only to realize that it had been locked from the inside.

“Are you serious? Open up.” You gave the door handle a couple of aggressive turns.

“No. You’re gonna kill me, and I like my intestines right where they are.”

“C’mon, Henderson. That was a joke. When have I ever physically hurt you?”

“Last time you came over to my house, and the week before that, and also every single time we’ve seen each other since the first time my mom hired you.”

You gave the door a few knocks, “You’re over exaggerating, you know I love you. I could never truly hurt you. C’mon, I just wanna see how bad it is.” The softer tone of your voice was enough to assure him that his life wasn’t at stake (for now) so he let you into your own room.

The door opened slowly, Dustin was still on high alert and wanted to be able to shield from you if you decided to attack. Behind his frame, you saw your beloved bass, which was now missing a string.

A few days ago you’d gone over to the boy’s place while his mother was away enjoying a bingo night, and that’s when you’d noticed a pile of folded clothes that didn’t belong to him sitting on his bed.

“Whose are they?” You’d inquired.

He’d then gone on telling you about how he’d accidentally broken one of the strings of his friend’s guitar while trying to play a few chords. And now he had to do his laundry for a month in return. He’d wash the clothes, iron them, fold them, and give them back to his friend in school.

At the time, you had found it comical, and you had also forbidden him from touching your bass, worried it might suffer the same fate if touched by Dustin’s lethal hands.

As usual, he’d completely ignored you and now here you both were.

“I will do your laundry for a month,” he said, stealing a chuckle from you.

“How did you even manage to do this? You weren’t even playing. Dustin, I literally just had that string replaced.” The anger had washed away, leaving room for your amusement, honestly the whole situation was sitcom worthy.

“I don’t know, I grabbed it because I wanted to see how heavy it was and then it happened. I’ll wash your clothes for two months,” he upgraded his offer.

“No way, kiddo. You’re buying me a new string, I don’t want you near my clothes.”

And with that, you headed back downstairs after making him promise he wouldn’t break any more of your stuff.

…

“All I’m saying is that I’ve been left home alone since I turned ten, I’ve gone days without showing by and nothing’s ever happened to me! I don’t understand why I need a babysitter, I’m in high-school now, it’s humiliating,” Dustin was rambling from the passenger seat, giving you the same speech he gave you every once in a while. It was unprompted, too. He just liked to complain about his mother’s decisions.

“Maybe it’s exactly because of that, kiddo. Ever think of that? If you didn’t wander off for days without letting your mom know you’re alive, she wouldn’t think you need someone to watch over you to prevent that from happening.” You had reached the music store and were now trying to find a place to park. Every single spot was taken, not that there were many of them.

“Ugh, asshole! I’m definitely keying that person’s car once we leave.” A van was occupying two spots at once, when it clearly could’ve fit in one.

“Uhh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” came the voice from the boy beside you.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m pretty sure that’s Eddie’s van. He’s not gonna like it if you do that.”

“Who the fuck is Eddie?” You replied annoyed. Dustin was surprisingly cooperative when it came to your crazy illegal ideas, and you didn’t like that he was putting obstacles in your way now.

“The friend whose guitar I also broke. I’ve told you about him.”

“Fine, whatever, I’ll castrate him then. Let’s just get this over with quickly.”

You drove a little further and found a spot that was close enough. Both of you made your way into the shop and you were soon surrounded by the walls of the familiar building. Walking past the tapes and into the back with Dustin following behind, you noticed a few familiar faces that tended to frequent the store just as much as you did. You gave some people friendly nods before finally arriving at the part where strings for various instruments were stored. Knowing exactly which one to grab, you wasted no time in walking back toward the cash register, wanting to pay as soon as possible so as to not get tempted into buying things you didn’t need.

Even with the extra money you were making from caring for Dustin, you still needed to save if you were going to take that trip at the end of the school year.

Giving the cashier the item you needed, you turned around to ask Dustin to take out his wallet and pay for it, but his attention was elsewhere.

You followed his line of sight, only to realize he was staring at someone. From behind, he didn’t look like anyone you’d seen before. Dark curly hair fell down his back, covering a good portion of his leather jacket.

As if on cue, he turned around and revealed his face. His eyes lit and his lips twirled, he began walking your way for whatever reason and you couldn’t do anything but stare.

“Henderson, fancy seeing you here,” he said to Dustin. Apparently they knew each other.

“Hey, Eddie. How’ve you been?” The name clicked inside of your brain, anecdotes and stories mushing together. So this was the guy Dustin wouldn’t shut up about.

“You’re Eddie?” You stopped him from replying to Dustin’s question.

As if he’d gained consciousness of you being there, he eyed you up and down, taking his time.

“The one and only, Edward Munson, and you are?”

“You’ve heard me talk about her before, she’s the one who plays bass,” Henderson replied for you. The wheels seemed to be turning in his brain as well, same as it had happened to you. Considering how much Henderson talked about the guy standing in front of you, it wouldn’t surprise you if he’d talked about you to him just as much. You just wished you could know what things exactly he’d chosen to share.

“Ah, the famous babysitter. We meet at last.” He bowed. Eddie was oddly charming, but you tried to keep your smile from appearing. You still hadn’t forgotten about the van incident.

“Don’t annoy her too much, she already said she wants to castrate you,” said Dustin before turning around and giving the annoyed cashier the money she had been waiting for since the interaction between you three began.

“Sweetheart, if you wanted to see me without my pants you could’ve just asked.” His grin was stupid, his winks were stupid, his face was stupid, and yet, he was making you feel all fuzzy inside.

“You wish. Keep this going and I’ll take a kidney, too. How big is your jerkiness that you needed two parking spots for it?”

“Ouch, I thought you liked me.” He dramatically punched his chest where his heart was supposed to be while simultaneously scrunching up his face in fake pain.

“Who told you that lie?”

“I don’t know, I just assumed that you were enjoying my presence at least a little bit since you haven’t stopped smiling ever since I approached you.” Annoying, so annoying. You wanted to punch him in the face and erase that foolish grin he wore with so much pride. On the other hand, you also wanted to jump his bones.

“A pity smile, I’m sure you’re used to them.” Every insult seemed to spark something inside of him, fuel that kept him going.

A cough came from behind you and you turned to see Dustin holding a plastic bag.

“Can we go now? I’ve got plans with Lucas,” he hurried you.

Grabbing the bag from him, you gave Eddie one last look and went to exit the store.

“I’ll call you!” He shouted as you kept on going.

“You don’t have my number!”

“I’ll get it from someone!”

“Don’t you dare, Munson!” You yelled one last time before being too far away from him to keep on with your bickering.

“What the hell was that?” Dustin’s tone was filled with confusion and a little disgust.

You ignored him and looked away, not wanting him to see the flusterness plastered on your face. Once you’d gotten home, you would fix your bass and spend the afternoon waiting by the phone, convinced a call would come through.

#eddie stranger things #eddie munson fic #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #i wanna write head canons about this now #i have so many ideas for a relationship in which they both play instruments

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natsunoomoi · 2 years

Text

Nezha Reborn

Finally got around to watching this one. I have very low ability in Chinese as an ABC, so I actually have to watch it with subs and be able to pay attention enough to read them, which means background streaming while gaming is out of the question. It was in my queue for awhile, and I saw that not so many people liked it that much on review sites, but for me I loved it. But I'm probably a weird exception because when I was in high school I got obsessed with the original novel the film is based off of, so when there's things happening I just like smiled and nodded and was like, "Oh yeah, that totally makes sense" because I already know the background info.

And like, I know the original novel it's based off of, but like I also was crazy obsessed specifically with Nezha. So all of the references and everything I already understood and knew, but other people coming into it cold complained in their reviews about how there's a bunch of things that aren't really explained. I actually didn't notice because I already knew them, so I think the film really makes a lot of assumptions that the audience already knows the mythology, which means it's best suited for the mainland China audience and specific diaspora like me that decided to look up their heritage. For everyone else, it's probably confusing.

There was a reference I needed to look up though, which was the Six Eared Macaque cuz I couldn't remember who that was, but it was the fake Sun Wukong from that one very annoying period of Journey to the West. When I read the description I was like, "OH, THAT ASSHOLE." But I totally didn't remember who he was cold.

All that said though, it's a pretty faithful and very well done reimagining of the Nezha story. It's not like a perfect 1:1, but for me it's enjoyable, but I was also a Nezha fangirl from my Senkaiden Houshin Engi days.

Hakyuu was so disappointing. Such promise, but bad pacing toward the end and like why like so many episodes focusing on Youzen and his master...? It got repetitive and I even got confused whether I was watching the same episode over again. I really liked Miyata Kouki back in the day, and often people don't really warm up that much to the new seiyuu playing a beloved character, but I actually really liked Furukawa Makoto's performance. I wish the script was written better so that I could have seen more of it. Like Miyata is like much more soft-spoken, so Nataku comes off as such a sweet boy even when he's kind of murderous. He's just mostly silent at those times, but Furukawa kind of actually has a better balance between his Mama's boy persona and like the battle ready paopei ningen.

But anyway, just including that whole rant to kind of illustrate how much of a Nezha obsessive I am, so the problems with the film that probably bothered other people really, really, really did not bother me.

That said though, I thought it was interesting they gave Ao Bing a spine and that Nezha ripped out his spine 3,000 years ago. I don't have my copy of the book with me in Japan because I needed to pick and choose what I wanted to pack in my luggage and that wasn't one of the things I brought cuz of weight limit, but I thought I remembered reading that what Nezha pulled out was his intestine....? And then after that he like went and made a belt out of it like a cheeky little punk. XD I suppose a spine would make a better belt, but that part got left out too. Just the ripping out part was enough I guess.

Still though, I can really understand how Western audiences or audiences not familiar with the lore would score it lower. It really requires prior knowledge to enjoy, but if you have that knowledge it is very enjoyable to see how they adapt the different mythological bits into a steampunk/cyberpunk retelling/rehashing of the story.

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sarah-dipitous · 10 months

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 177

Remember the Titans

“Remember the Titans”

Plot Description: Sam and Dean are stumped when they investigate a possible zombie case where an amnesiac man dies and then revives himself once a day

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: Neither of these dudes are making good decisions…maybe don’t walk down long, mostly deserted roads late at night with no reflective gear, and maybe don’t fucking drink and drive

He just left that man for dead. There’s a large bird of prey pecking out his intestines com morning

Sam. Spitting up blood is generally seen as a bad sign

I’m obsessed with how convinced this cop is that this guy’s a zombie

Is this ACTUALLY Prometheus? He keeps getting his liver pecked out by birds……..

Pulled off a mountain in Europe?? I’m just…gonna take a lil trip to wikipedia

WHO’S THIS WOMAN?? What’s she doing here?? Why’s an assassin with some kind of magical powers after this guy?

He about to have a heart attack?? Love that they just wait for him to wake back up

NOW WHO’S SHE??? Uh. So. Random woman claiming to have had a child with our zombie dude. Okay

(Sometimes I really need to just look at the episode title again. Of course this is Prometheus)

Oh the assassin was (potentially) Artemis?

His son has the same curse? Seems unfair

Why does Dean not look like he’s in this room?? Everyone else is there but Dean looks inserted in afterward

This kid has the biggest scared eyes I’ve ever seen

I’m not going to be mad at the woman who just wants her seven year old son to stop dying every day, even though he comes back to life

Excuse me, Sam?? I hate that this is probably some really obvious scheme to get Artemis to do whatever it is that Sam has planned. I don’t know what he’s thinking but the manipulation tactic is obvious

Man. Fuck you, Zeus….not literally

Uuuggghhh, fuck you, spn writers. Look, whether you see Artemis as a sapphic icon or an ace one, it doesn’t matter to me. She can be both!! But don’t make her in love with Prometheus…she turned a man into a deer and turned his hunting dogs on him after he saw her bathing by accident

Man, that really was some greek tragedy shit. So, Artemis tries to shoot Zeus with an arrow, Zeus pulls Prometheus up as a shield, arrow hits Prometheus. Prometheus shoves the arrow deeper into his abdomen so it also pierces Zeus, both die, they fall to the ground still kebab’d on Artemis’s arrow, and now both his son and Artemis are without fathers

Dean praying to Cas to protect Sam 😭😭😭

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023

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speakmindfully · 1 year

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I think I hurt my own feelings today, and I swear… every time I feel like I’m moving forward, I’m moving backwards. But now it feels more like, instead of one step forward, two steps back, it’s more two steps forward one step back. How do I stop stepping back? How do I only look forward? I keep coming back to this graphic- how it’s made me completely redefine how I see and understand processing pain.

I got off of social media because it was showing me too many reminders and sneak peeks into a life I didn’t want to associate with. I re-downloaded it to follow my EMT school on Instagram, and of course, I should have just kept it deleted. I saw my ex on another girl’s Instagram, on what I assume was a date, as they’ve been close for awhile. I know the girl from school, and we cross paths every so often. I knew this day would come, and I have no idea what their relationship is like but for my own well-being I’m going to assume the worst and assume they’re dating now. Luckily her and I only have a few mutual friends but none I think I’d run into. I hate that seeing him look so happy made me feel sick. I hate that my intestines torse and I immediately lose my appetite. I hate that it makes me sad. I hate that I want to cry.

I hate that I have to replay in my mind constantly the things that I shouldn’t want about him. I have to tell myself that the way I was treated is not the way I would want to pick back up. I hate that I will never not feel this way. It makes me feel like I’m falling into madness thinking that THIS is how life just will be now. The occasional flicker of a post, a sighting, and I feel like being sick . I wish I didn’t still care. I wish I could cling to the bad, and rid him in my mind of anything good. I wish I could villainize him the way everyone else can. I WISH I could. How easy that would be. Is this the thing I have to learn to grow through? Is THIS my burden? Being plagued by this man forever and questioning whether or not I was the one who was wrong?

I’ve been doing exceptionally well at keeping myself distracted, but man it can get difficult. Dreams, constantly. Once a week even sometimes. He’s there, not in memories or waking thoughts but in my dreams. The dreams aren’t even replays of what was, it’s all new. The dreams shrivel me up in ways I’ve never felt pain. The way I’ll wake up from a dream and just feel so numb, I’ll make it to the car for wherever I’m going and just sob. And I can’t even explain what emotion I feel or why I am, just that it’s connected to him. I almost WANT him to be dating her, so it can really force him away that much more.

If I couldn’t have the ideal version of him that I needed, I need him as far away as possible. I can hate parts of him, but never all of him. I stopped loving parts of him, but not all of them. I wish he would stop plaguing me. He’s “won” every battle we’ve ever had, everything but like once or twice. I never got an ounce of the same grace I gave him. It makes me sick also that I could continue giving to someone like that. It sounds superficial to say but dealing with the choice loss of him has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. The way I CHOSE to do this and yet parts of me still cling to him. The way I feel is so corrosive, it’s bad for me and it just eats away at me from the inside out. I feel like I’m betraying myself and I have no idea where it’s coming from. Where do these feelings come from? Do I just fake like I don’t care until I don’t care? It’s worked with everything else in my life but this. He is my Achilles because I’ve never “won” with him. I’m always under his thumb, I just want to be free. My poor heart who’s just trying to protect me, and give all my love to ME, is being hijacked and thrown into cage. It’s like holding hands through prison bars. If you close your eyes and pretend you’re free while holding the hands of a loved one you can almost convince yourself you’re free but when you open your eyes the bars are still there, blocking you ever so slightly from that full embrace.

I feel like I’m so close to freedom I can taste it, but as long as he exists around me, or I live in fear he’s around me, the less my jar grows. I’m prioritizing ALL my time, energy, and love into my closest friends, my work, and my career passions. It’s been amazing and fulfilling, and it’s slowly eating away at the bad feelings I’m trying to escape. The grief. My heart has never hurt like this. It’s because I was in charge of making it feel this way. I was the one who pushed away. It’s MY doing. And it burns like a paper cut every fucking time. I don’t know how to keep growing my jar like in the picture. I want my jar so big I can barely see the grief. I feel so sick. So empty. So conflicted. I want to push everyone else away from me. I don’t want anyone romantically near me. I feel like an electric fence. I’m trying to be an electric fence. I want nothing to do with any feelings that could remind me of the joy of love. I want to grow in every way but in love. Love is too painful. Love is too much hurt. I never want to love this way ever again. I don’t know if I even want to find love again… any possible reminder of love feels like acid bubbling in my stomach threatening to come vomiting out, scalding every inch it touches on the way out. Leaving a shaky, cold, empty, nauseating illness behind. The idea of love right now feels like stomach acid. It aches it pains it hurts. I hate that he ruined this for me. I hate that he makes me feel like it’s my fault. I lost part of myself. A part I can’t decide if I want back. I wish it would all go away. If I just moved it would go away.

I’m swimming deeper into the abyss with these thoughts they should have stayed under wraps. I want it all to go away. He’ll break me if I can’t make it disappear. Fuck him. Fuck love. Fuck it all.

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iztarshi · 1 year

Text

Febuwhump - forced to watch

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Warning: vivsection

You are not very good at meditation.

You are meant to stay still and not think and you are very very bad at both those things - although lots of people would probably argue the second. Donnie would say your head is empty all the time, so meditation should be easy, but your head has never been empty. It has too many thoughts they just cancel each other out.

Or they do this, ramble around your head in an attempt to eclipse a Big Thought with lots of little ones because the Big Thought is too much, even if you know it even if this is why you’re doing this.

Deep breath.

Meditation.

Ninja Mind Meld.

Raph has been gone for two months.

Deep breath.

You were the ones who mind melded on that train, if you can just be calm, if you can just reach out. He’s out there somewhere. Donnie’s hacking into every camera in New York, Mikey’s stirring his hands through the fabric of the universe, you can do this.

You can try.

Raph engulfs you. Spiky-light-flame-shield-solid-brother-warmth. It’s like drowning and you want to drown, want to sink into a presence you’ve been missing like breathing. Raph clutches you, drags you down until you blink and you’re seeing nothing but painfully bright light. Blink again and you’re seeing white walls, a floor with a drain in it, a figure in a white coat and you can’t look away from their hands to see anything else about them. Those hands are holding a circular saw.

Raph. Raphraphraph.

Leo?

I’m here, where are you? Tell me, I’ll make a potal. You don’t have much time, do you? We’ve got to move.

I don’t know.

You wriggle, you try to reach for your sword but you can’t even reach for your body. Raph’s clutching you, holding you down. His voice is so hollow, hazy and distant.

Don’t leave me alone.

You go still. Would you leave if you could? You can’t. Raph is stronger than you. He always has been. You need to get back, tell Donnie that Raph’s in a lab, try to open a portal with the view of the room you’ve had. Something. Anything.

The circular saw is placed against Raph’s plastron. You feel his arms straining against the straps. You feel the first cut, the way it sears as it cuts through keratin and nerve and bone and flesh.

You feel nothing as Raph’s ninpo curls around you, hides you away from the pain even as he clutches you like a teddy bear.

Raph screams and hisses, raw, animal noises of reptile and ape terror. You can’t cover your ears. You can’t look away. It seems to go on for so long, for hours, for days.

Those hands put the circular saw down and push on the edges of the cut out rectangle of plastron. Fingers wedge underneath and Raph keens and they lift the plate of bone and keratin away.

There’a a voice, saying something.

There’s the sound of wheels, a rack being pulled over, just a bar with a hook on the end. Then those hands, you hate those hands, start lifting out Raph’s intestines and looping them over rack. They wriggle. They writhe.

ohgodohgodohgod Raph, please, let me go, I can’t

Leo? Even Raph’s mental voice is hoarse, he sounds as if he’s been screaming for days.

I’m here, I’m here, I’m sorry, I’m right here.

Those hands are inside Raph now. Are they going to lift out his stomach, his liver, his heart? They can’t, right? They wouldn’t… if they wanted an autopsy they would have killed him first. Right? They wouldn’t make him suffer like this just because they couldn’t be bothered to put a bolt through his brain.

You imagine that, a bolt through his brain, and wish you hadn’t thought it. You wish you had a body to throw up with.

Raph, don’t die, please don’t die, I’ll tell Donnie, I’ll tell Mikey, I’ll make a portal, somehow seeing this room will be enough, I’ll make a portal, this won’t happen to you again, we’ll find you, just don’t die, don’t die, don’t die

They take slices from different organs. Calm, unhurried. You think the word might be biopsy.

There is blood running down the drain, there is an IV in Raph’s arm, but there is so much blood.

The hands retreat, set their instruments aside, and put the rectangle of plastron back in place.

There is the ker-chunk ker-chunk of a stapler.

You’re not dead. Your own voice sounds wispy, wondering.

You feel Raph trying to rouse himself. Sorry. I…

He unwraps from you and you feel cold, out in the dark of… of ninja mind space by yourself. Despite everything you nearly dive back into his ninpo like diving into his arms.

You wake up.

You throw up.

You scream for Donnie and Mikey.

#rottment #febuwhump #febuwhump day 7 #vivisection tw #human experimentation tw #gore tw #I didn't think I was going to get anything done for today but apparently what I can produce at short notice #is a very dark stream of consciousness #vomit tw

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darlingyanderes · 3 years

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Can you do one with Muzan and Kokushibo (bad at spelling 😂) With y/n. You can choose the content

Hi thank you for your request!! I might have gone a little ham on this one, I recently watched a movie called “Forgotten” on Netflix, and it inspired me to write this! I hope you like it (and that it’s not a straight up rip-off of the movie ooop)

Warnings: (fake) illness, drugs, explicit gore, murder, demons eating humans, manipulation/gaslighting, badly written amnesia

Word count: 1731

Take your pills - Yandere!Muzan Kibutsuju x Fem!Reader x Yandere!Kokushibo

Muzan and Kokushibo were always right. Or at least, Y/N had to trust they were always right, since her memory is so fuzzy. When the three first met, they told Y/N that she was ill and needed treatment. They claimed it was still in the first stages, so Y/N of course didn’t notice anything yet. But as they took her to the doctor and got her these pills, her whole head has just become so fuzzy. It was hard to stay in the real world and she could barely remember what she had been doing 5 minutes ago. Y/N wrote it off as the effects of the disease and that it was progressing despite all the medication.

But some things were so odd. That doctor they took her to, was that her usual doctor? Who was that person? When did she start living at Muzan and Kokushibo’s house, and since when did they call her ‘bunny and ‘darling’? The more she thought about her situation, the more questions popped up, and the harder it became to find answers. How could she, when her conscious felt like it was floating in an endless sea?

In the end, thinking became too tiresome. She decided to save herself the useless trouble of looking for answers she wasn’t going to get, and just trust Muzan and Kokushibo. She must be ill, that’s why they’re giving her these drugs. She can’t think straight, that’s why they’re taking care of her. That’s all she knew, and all she had to know.

Y/N stood at the sink in the bathroom, with a pill and a glass of water in her hand. She was about to pop the pill in her mouth, when Muzan suddenly opened the door, startling her and causing the pill to fell out of her hand and beneath the sink.

“You scared me half to death!”

Muzan shot her an apologetic look. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, bunny. I just wanted to tell you breakfast is ready. Did you take your pill today?”

Y/N looked at her empty hand. She thought that she hadn’t taken it yet, but it wasn’t in her hand. She tried digging through her memory, but it was no use: she didn’t remember even that. Judging from the glass of water in her hand and the absence of a pill, she probably took one. Right?

She grinned at him and said: “Of course! What’s for breakfast?”

---

Y/N awoke in the middle of the night, her eyes drowsily looking around the room. Despite having just woken up, she felt her mind was a bit clearer than it usually was. Rolling over in bed, she realised she was more aware of the softness of the sheets, the faint smell of Muzan and Kokushibo clinging to the fabric, and the warmth radiating from the empty spots where they usually slept.

Wait, empty spots?

Y/N sat up, patting the rest of the bed to see if Muzan and Kokushibo had somehow been lying at the very edges of the matrass, but it was all empty. Why were they both gone?

A scream suddenly ruptured the house. Though it was dampened by the walls, Y/N could tell it was a guttural scream of pure fear. It made the very hairs on her neck stand up. She was frozen in her bed, horrified at the silence that followed. She could only hear her own heart beat frantically in her chest.

Only when the scream came for a second time, did Y/N quickly move from the bed. The scream must have been coming from inside the house. There must be an intruder. Was someone hurting Muzan or Kokushibo? Or even worse, both of them?

She had to help them. Even if her presence would just be a distraction to stop whatever attacker was in their house for only a split second, that would be good enough.

She inched her way through the darkness of their house, following the noise, until she was right around the corner of the bathroom. The light inside was on and the screams of agony kept ringing in her ears. She grabbed her slipper as a make-shift weapon and braced herself, before jumping in the opening of the door and yelling at the top of her lungs: “Stop!”

But what she saw made her drop the slipper in her hand.

The screams weren’t coming from either Muzan or Kokushibo, but rather a deadly pale looking man in the bathtub. His eyes were red and his face was dripping with tears, snot, and blood. He was partially submerged in his own blood and was most likely the cause for all the red smears and hand prints on the bathroom tiles behind him. Even if Y/N was able to perform surgery on him, she could never save him; half of his abdomen had been hollowed out, his intestines draped out for all to see. He was littered with claw marks, and an occasional bite was missing from his limbs.

Right as Y/N had entered the bathroom, a bloodied hand had dug its way into him, tearing his flesh out. The hand belonged to Muzan, the usually neat and tidy man who now had wild eyes and a face smeared red. Kokushibo was crouching next to him, licking the blood off his fingers with that same feral look in his eyes.

With a hopeless dread in her stomach, Y/N fell to her knees. They were demons. She had been living with demons this entire time. Monsters, vicious killers, who posed as loving humans so they could have a cover and continue eating humans in peace. With shallow breaths, Y/N couldn’t stop staring at the man in the bathtub, whose horrifying final moments she was witnessing.

“Y/N? Y/N, it’s not what it looks like.”

Y/N gaze shifted to Muzan, who now turned his whole body towards her. He looked like a tiger about to pounce its prey.

“Go back to bed, Y/N,” added Kokushibo, who tried to show her a calming smile. All Y/N could see were his bloodied fangs.

Y/N shook her head fervently and crawled backwards away from them, tears stinging in her eyes. “You are monsters. You- You killed that man!”

Muzan frowned, before looking at Kokushibo. “The pills should’ve prevented this, right?”

Kokushibo stalked towards Y/N, who couldn’t move away fast enough. “I suppose there’s something we could still do to make this right.”

---

When Y/N opened her eyes, she was back in the bed. Light was shining through the curtains, announcing the start of a new day. For a moment she was lost in the warm comfort of the bed and the two bodies surrounding hers, but then she suddenly remembered the events of last night.

Her eyes shot wide open and she gasped when she saw Muzan’s face right in front of hers. With his usual gentle smile, he whispered: “Good morning, darling.”

When he attempted to brush her hair out of her face, she flinched backwards, suddenly scared of the long claws on his hands. However, she didn’t get far: Kokushibo pressed himself against her back and wrapped his arms around her stomach. After he pressed a lazy kiss on her neck, he said: “What’s wrong, bunny?”

“You killed him.”

“What?”

“You killedhim. How could you do such a thing?”

Muzan once again moved his hand to caress her face, this time succeeding since Y/N didn’t have enough room to dodge him. With a carefully crafted worried look on his face, he said: “Sounds like you had an awful nightmare.”

Y/N frowned. “What? A nightmare?”

It was quiet for a while. Kokushibo propped himself up on his arm so he could look Y/N in the face. He looked grave as he asked: “Y/N, did you take your pill yesterday?”

Y/N opened her mouth to say yes, but stopped. She didn’t remember if she took one. Did she take one? No matter how much she dug in her memory, she just didn’t know.

Seeing the confusion on her face, Muzan sighed and shook his head. As he stroked her cheek with his thumb, he spoke: “You always had terrible nightmares before we took you to the doctor. You’d wake up and be so, so scared, just like you are now. The nightmares seemed so real to you, but they aren’t. They’re just nightmares.”

Kokushibo backed him up as he rubbed Y/N’s shoulder. “We were by your side the whole night, bunny. Right here in this bed.”

Something was wrong. She knew what she saw that night. But then again, why would they have any reason to lie? If they really were demons, they’d just eat her up if she witnessed them doing something like that, right? Demons wouldn’t care if they had to kill one more human, it’d just mean an extra meal for them. And they surely wouldn’t take care of someone like her like this. They must be right. They just have to be. Otherwise it just doesn’t make sense.

This illness really was messing with her head and her sense of reality. She felt like a fool. How could she possibly think that they’d do something like that, when they were always so kind and patient with her? She really was an idiot. In a small voice, Y/N said: “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, darling, we know it’s hard.”

Kokushibo reached over to the nightstand on his side of the bed and grabbed a pill and the glass of water on top of it. Meanwhile, Muzan sits Y/N up straight, keeping his arm around her shoulders and his hand resting in hers.

“Open wide,” Kokushibo said as he held the pill in front of her mouth. When Y/N opened it, she received a pat on her head. “Good girl.”

She couldn’t help but feel this nagging in the back of her head. Something wasn’t right here. The gentle smiles on their faces, and the way Muzan patiently held out the glass of water for her. There was something hidden behind her eyes, but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. Was it really just the illness that was making her feel this way?

Finally, Muzan pressed the glass to her lips, forcing Y/N to take a sip and swallow the pill.

“From now on, we’ll make sure you take your pills, okay?”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba x reader #yandere kibutsuji #yandere muzan x reader #yandere muzan kibutsuji #yandere muzan kibutsuji x reader #yandere muzan #yandere kibutsuji muzan #yandere kokushibo #yandere kokushibo x reader #yandere demon slayer x reader #yandere demonslayer x reader #yandere demon slayer #yandere muzan x reader x kokushibo #yandere muzan kibutsuji x reader x kokushibo #yandere kokushibo x reader x muzan #yandere kokushibo x reader x muzan kibutsuji

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wh6res · 3 years

Text

dreams come true | yuta

"soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks." — ny

[ part of the my bloody valentine collection ]

tw. gore, blood, murder, death, killings, mentions of illegal organ trafficking, violence, mentions of stalking, minor character deaths, weapons (a knife and a gun), almost (??) suggestive content but nothing happened

disc. this is rlly fucked up and yuta is unredeemable. i dont condone such acts. this is all a work of fiction and meant to entertain.

wc. 5k

every time you sleep, the void is sickening. it was all you could see, lightyears and lightyears away of pitch black that made your head dizzy and your stomach dry heave. you've always wondered when you'll start dreaming about your soulmate's memories. they were like little secrets, another way for two people to be intimate without even being together. their days were flashing before their soulmate's eyes in the form of a dream. it's as if you spent the day with them!

you loved it, the whole concept of it. it sounded so wholesome and sweet and jesus fucking christ, you've always been such a hopeless romantic.

it was sweet until it turned sour. you loved it until you hated it. it was romantic until it turned downright terrifying.

you wake up covered in cold sweat, panting and gasping as if you've run a whole marathon.

moonlight seeps through your glass window, slightly left ajar for the midnight breeze to pass through – you walk up to it, pull it shut, and draw your thick curtains together. you exhaled, breath shaking as you tried to anchor yourself back to the ground.

with the only source of your light disappearing, darkness envelops you whole. for once, you craved the void. you want that void back if it meant never seeing something like that again – something straight out of your worst nightmare.

"119, what's your emergency?"

"uhm, i think… i think i just witnessed a massacre."

you reiterate everything you saw in the dream – the mahogany door, paint chipping off the drywalls. the doorknob was rusty, so were the hinges, and it made an ominous creak when pushed open. the light switches on, the first you see was a bunch of dirty ice coolers in what should've been the living room, it wasn't even the slightest bit organized. they were everywhere, and the floor looked grimy and disgusting, like there's a stain they can't seem to scrub off. only when your soulmate has stalked closer did you see the labels haphazardly taped on top of the ice coolers.

kidneys. livers. lungs. pancreas. intestines – you nearly vomited on the floor, trying to relay everything you saw to the operator on the other end of the call.

then came the gruesome parts.

their deaths.

they were five people in total. men clad in cheap t-shirts and pants, wearing all these similar leather jackets. some were well-built, ripped in the arms and thighs, but some were skinny, the jackets hanging on their small frames.

they never stood a chance against him.

your soulmate is agile, quick on his feet with outstanding eye-hand coordination. only equipped with a butcher's knife, but it was all he needed to take them down and send them knocking on inferno's gates. he was skilled, knowing when to pounce and where to slash his knife to maim but never to kill. by the time your soulmate was through with them, everything is bloody red. all the victims' eyes widened as they sputtered and choked on their blood – not dead, but dying...

because your soulmate wasn't done yet.

a killer should have a modus operandi, should they not? so he took out a desert eagle, stood before the bleeding bodies, and shot two bullets straight into their eyes. the finishing touch? carving a frown on their faces with his butcher's knife.

the operator only told you one thing after she's made you describe the place for them to track the crime scene down.

"double-check all your windows and doors."

because you couldn't be too sure, not when you have been granted a front seat to the sad face slayer's most recent endeavors.

the detective eyes you with a certain pity. maybe that's why you don't bother meeting his eyes. you sit still on a chair, camera blinking red behind him, the interrogation room is freezing even with the thick jacket you're wearing.

seven billion people in the world and you're soulmate's a ruthless serial killer who took it upon himself to purge the world of evildoers – he was playing god, no wonder the detective is looking at you like that.

"uhh…" he's awkward, fidgeting in his seat. "and you saw this all in a dream?"

"yes."

you've known him only minutes ago. mark lee was his name and he seems to be a subordinate of a higher, more experienced detective named kim doyoung. you don't know whether to feel offended or not for having a doe-eyed newbie taking care of the case, but you pushed it at the back of your mind, knowing his superior is watching on the other side of the two-way mirror.

"did you have, like, other past instances where you dreamt of him? of what he…" mark looked like he was going to throw up. "what he does to his other victims?"

you shook your head. no. "i've mostly just heard of him on the news. i don't think i have the stomach to find out in-depth what the killer does."

mark takes out a folder, features walking the fine white line between looking apologetic or wanting to say me too. "i'm, uhh, really sorry to hear that."

there's a sudden pregnant silence encapsulating the interrogation room. it felt like you were mourning for something, the chains of dread dragging your heart to the ground as it pounded against your ribcage. mark looked like he wanted to say something, but you swore his eyes darted towards the camera in the corner and decided otherwise.

"anyway…" he trails. flipping the folder open in one swift motion. "past sightings have given us the sad face slayer's name."

he slaps down a picture of a man, his hair raven and a permanent scowl etched on his face. the quality was shitty. it looked like it was a screenshot taken from zoomed-in cctv footage.

"nakamoto yuta, twenty-five, japanese, and has slipped one too many times past authorities that at this point, it's practically a talent."

and just like that, it made sense why you're here.

your lips pursed in contemplation, palms quaking as your fingers reach forward to inspect your soulmate's picture. "and… you want to use my soulmate connection –" you glowered. never had a sentence sounded so fucking cursed and utterly wrong. "– to catch him?"

mark can't look you in the eye. "yes. he's very elusive. his killings have been happening cross-country and, as you can see, have garnered national media attention. the police are hanging by a thread here. a month in his case and all we got is his MO, name, and that he has this weird god complex on him. if we can't catch him by the end of next month…" he shrugs. "the feds are going to interfere, sooner or later."

"so…" you trail, urging him to continue.

"so, we need as much information about him as we can get and your dreams about him will be able to provide that."

fucking great.

the much newer revelations of precisely who it was on the other end of the soulmate connection put a significant damper on your mood. you'd like to think your new little cop buddy who follows you around gives you the least bit sense of security, but alas, it doesn't. not when you've seen first hand how yuta took down five men all at once without breaking a fucking sweat – you absolutely refuse to call him your soulmate, you'd never accept a person with his nature as a soulmate.

you try to hide the bracelet mark handed you last two weeks ago, during your time spent in the precinct's interrogation room.

"please have this on you at all times until we catch him, okay? this is for extra measures, just in case something happens to the cop assigned to guard you. just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?"

considering you're now probably being hunted alive for snitching on a serial killer? mark lee, that was not funny at all.

"do you have to get inside the lecture with me?" you whine, shielding your face with your hair when you notice people shooting glances at the rather handsome cop they assigned to you. "it's not like he'll attack in broad daylight! and in a fucking classroom, for that matter."

jaehyun looks just about ready to hurl you out the window. "lower down your voice," he scolds. "serial killers don't pick a time and place, sweetheart. he kills when necessary and if it's fucking necessary to murder everyone in that classroom to get to you? he'll do it in a fucking heartbeat."

you sigh when the chair next to you screeches against the floor, the aforementioned male taking his seat right next to you. jaehyun felt more like a babysitter than a cop, who seems to have a habit of constantly inputting his not-even-needed opinions on the most superficial things.

are witness protection protocols like this?

it was a good thing that overgrown bat doesn't come hanging around in your apartment, but he does have the police car parked right across the building's entrance. judging by how meticulous and thorough he seems to be, he won't miss any face that comes in and out of the building.

you didn't forget exactly why you're under witness protection. for the cops to waste one good officer to follow you around, you needed to be valuable and being valuable meant sleeping through nightmare-induced dreams of what your soulmate does for a living. the scenes are so gruesome, so graphic and utterly gory, that you dart towards the bathroom first thing after waking up in cold sweat, draining all of dinner down the toilet bowl.

after dreaming of him in action a few times, you've now completely understood what detective lee had said regarding yuta's god complex. it was unsightly, yet there was a twisted sense of heroism to it. if there's one thing, he only gutted the bad guys – but that didn't make nakamoto yuta any less of a bad guy, himself.

i need to ask you a favor [sent 2:05am]

JJH: what? [received 2:10am]

often the nightmares were too much. too much that you thought of escaping its horrors by never getting a wink of sleep ever again – until you realized you're a witness and is probably the only chance for the seoul police department to catch that bastard.

buy me sleeping pills? [read 2:08am]

when you peep out of the window, you find an empty spot across the road where jaehyun usually parks the police car. twenty minutes later, you answer the knocking on your door. he used that little "code" he did for you to know it was him. jaehyun was glowering and muttering about how he wasn't some errand boy when he shoved the plastic bottle in your hand yet, you still thanked him nonetheless.

the pills worked like a charm. you managed to stay asleep throughout the whole night, ceasing those episodes of yours where you jolt awake in the middle of dreaming about the sad face slayer's memories.

life continued for you. it became a little bearable, but that didn't mean the horrific murders you see in your dreams are something you can get used to – you don't think you'll ever get used to the sight of him slashing his victims, the blood trickling like a goddamned waterfall.

today the dreams were different. anticlimactic, per se, if you compare it to the violence so utterly present in his memories.

the first you see were black gates, then it shifted to him ordering coffee in a café (amazing what a simple black mask can hide). it switched to him walking on a sidewalk, then he arrives at his destination, an apartment building – it wasn't too rundown, nor was it extravagant.

the serial killer takes the elevator and walks up to a mahogany door –

your room number is a blaring sight.

you couldn't be wrong, not when the 506 with the missing zero in the middle was a sight you saw every day, going and coming home from university.

that was your front door.

he was at your front door.

you jolt awake, ignoring the icky feel of sweat making your clothes cling onto your skin. ice creeps up your spine and freezes you over when you notice with a sinking realization.

those black gates are from the university you attended. that café is your favorite study nook. and that sidewalk is a route you take every day.

you clamp your hands on your mouth as tears roll down your cheeks in rivulets. you pull the comforters up above your head, fear gripping onto you with a vice-like grip as you sob.

it was in the dead of night, moonlight grazing the confines of your room and hours away from dusk. you finally utter those three words in a frightened whisper.

"he's stalking me."

as if having the overgrown bat jaehyun following and annoying you around wasn't enough, you now have another person keeping watch over you. mark lee, unlike jaehyun, may not be as ripped with muscle, but you heard from your cop buddy that the young detective has a few black belts under him. people at the precinct said that if they have to choose one person who can ever come close to the sad face slayer's agility, mark lee's your guy.

"you gotta be shitting me," you mutter, leaning close to jaehyun to whisper like high school girls talking about gossip. "he doesn't look the type!"

jaehyun, in turn, plays along and copies you. "yeah, true. he gets that a lot, i think,"

"guys, i'm literally in the back seat. i can hear everything."

the change hadn't been too drastic. at least mark was there when jaehyun proved to be difficult, pulling him towards the other way when the older male tried waltzing into your class again. "you don't need to sit next to her in her class! are you serious? there's one exit and entrance and we're on the fifth floor. breaking into that classroom will be the end of nakamoto's serial killer career!"

you shoot mark an appreciative smile, one he quickly returned before hauling jaehyun around the hallway. "we'll just be at the canteen, okay? press the 'lil button on your bracelet and we'll be right there!"

shaking your head with a slight smile on your face, you entered the classroom, sat in your usual spot, and did some of your readings from our other class to kill time. you hardly hear the screech of the chair next to you as it was pulled back. not like you cared much for whoever sat down next to you, but you can't deny there's that feeling of missing jaehyun when he used to force his way into the lecture.

"settle down! settle down, people!"

the professor enters and the class begins.

you were meticulous with your note-taking system. it's thorough, leaving no room for information to slip you. having already printed hard copies of the powerpoint presentation and simply jotting down some extra key points mentioned by your professor.

you were just about to raise your hand for a question when you feel something warm graze past your arm. you absentmindedly look down.

the breath is sucked right out of your lungs.

hi, soulmate

there, scribbled with an ominous red crayon on a small piece of paper. it was almost laughable how innocent it looked but when you follow the ring-clad hand, up the black hoodie he's wearing, and finally to his face—

"hi! i'm yuta."

his cheshire smile spikes up your heartbeat. it makes you want to throw up, makes you want to slam your head against the desk. the fight or flight hormone you have is making you restless, eyes pinned on the serial killer sitting next to you, scared that if you avert your gaze, he's going to take out that desert eagle and shoot you until your skull caves in and the bullets in his magazine empties.

"but judging by your reaction, i don't think introductions are needed, hm?" his tone is easy, conversational even and it shoots a freezing jolt of fear right up your spine. it makes you sweat profusely because you don't fucking know what to do, your thoughts in complete and utter disarray.

"just press the little button here and we'll be there before you can even finish shouting 'help!' – hey, i was just kidding! what's with the face?" you swallow, sneakily pressing the button without breaking eye contact with the serial killer sitting in front of you.

"look upfront. now." yuta orders and you nearly snap your neck as you turn your head with lightning speed.

"i thought i was above the soulmate rules, but here we are. my soul is either too tainted or too great to be tied to such trivial things, but oh well, we learn to work with what we have. surprisingly, i learned to like dreaming about how your day went."

you feel something sharp poking at your thigh and when you look down, he has a silver butterfly knife pointed against you. the precision of the angle he held it with doesn't slip your notice. one slice of that knife, no matter how small, and he'll be spilling your guts in this classroom.

a fat tear rolls down your face.

"can you imagine how much my heart broke when i learned you were spying on me? leaking information to that snobby detective? to those incompetent cops? bad baby, that was very bad of you."

"yuta—"

"you think the cops can save you from me?"

his other hand comes in contact with the nape of your neck, holding your head in place as he leaned down to invade your space. he scoffs, and you can picture that terrifying cheshire grin you've seen one too many times in your dreams.

the knife digs through your coat, the tip hardly poking your skin only because he doesn't want to drive it into you yet. how did he even manage to get inside the university? not to mention the weapons he possessed? shouldn't anyone be suspicious when they see a man dressed in all black, clad in jeans and a hoodie, into a university—

he even dressed the part. with that hood drawn up and carrying that one notebook, he looked fairly normal. someone who can easily blend in with the crowd.

you eye your professor, willing him to look at you but your soulmate is having none of that. you squirm when he drives the knife further, at the base of your stomach. with his other hand, he twirls a lock of hair around his finger. "now, now, soulmate. you don't want half the people here to get hurt, do you? unless... that can easily be arranged—"

"no!" you whisper, head jerking to the side to look at him humming in satisfaction. damn. out of all the faces he's seen contorted with fear, yours is his absolute favorite. with those pleading, glassy eyes and parted lips, yuta is tenting in his sweats.

"thought so," he chuckles. "let's get up. we're leaving. that old crook doesn't care if students just up and went in the middle of his lecture."

you don't want to think about how he even knew that because it implied attending the lectures a good amount of times. it's with sinking realization that jaehyun was right. if it weren't for him insisting to sit next to you, nakamoto yuta would've long gotten you in his claws.

you tried gathering your things until he purred into your ear.

"ah, ah, ah. you wouldn't be needing those with where we're going."

the hallways were empty, not that you had much time to scream for help when he had a knife pointed up your back, shoving you into the fire escape stairs. within the tranquil confines of the staircases, the sad face slayer couldn't fucking care less for your personal space.

he disgusts you greatly, he needn't do anything but stand there in front of you but you can already smell the long blood trail from his path. it reeks of rotting flesh and that infuriating god complex he had left a sour aftertaste.

"you know, i genuinely wanted to get to know you," yuta pouts, shaking the hoodie off his head. his hair raven, it's ends kissing the nape of his neck. he looked like he came right out of a shounen manga but the bloodlust in his eyes is something that can never be masked. "i detested the soulmate connection at first, i thought i should just kill you off because you could be my loose end."

his humorless smile is enough to give you nightmares.

"but seeing how sweetly normal and untainted you are made me hold back," the butterfly knife appears before your line of sight, yuta teasingly dragging the tip right down your cheek to trace your tears. "so, why did you snitch, baby?"

you shiver when he noses the side of your neck, inhaling your scent as his other hand hooks underneath your top, freezing fingers making you jolt. when you don't reply, his patience starts to dwindle. then again, he was never a patient man.

"answer me, you bitch. why did you rat me out?" gone is the playful lilt in his voice. the vibrations surge through you as his deep, demanding voice scares you shitless.

you feel, hear, and smell him everywhere. this wasn't like any nightmare. this is real, and you won't magically wake up on your bed, sighing in relief, knowing he isn't there, that it was all just in your head. no, this was very much real and there's absolutely no escape.

"i didn't," your voice cracks. "i didn't mean to—"

"bullshit!" he yells. you wail in pain when he slams you against the wall, head aching as it came in contact with concrete. "because of you betraying me, i nearly fucking got caught, and i never get caught!"

you were full out sobbing at this point, noisy and unsightly as the snot mixes with your tears. your only hope now is he gives you a quick, painless death and that he doesn't carve and mutilate your face like what he always does to his other poor victims. "i'm sorry! please... i'm so sorry. i was scared—"

he coos mockingly, tilting his head to the side as he inched his face closer. "aw, scared? my sweet little soulmate was scared?" he places the blade flat against your neck. as humiliating and degrading as it was, you almost peed on your clothes. "how about now? i'm sure as hell that you're fucking terrified for your useless life right now."

you cringe when his hand abandons the expanse of your stomach, no longer inching higher, finding its purchase on the hair sitting at the crown of your head. he holds you in place like that, forcing your head parallel against the wall, with his whole body pressing up to you that it's nearly suffocating.

"just one quick little slice," he taunts. you hiccuped when you feel the feathery light scrape of the blade moving against your skin. "you won't even have time to scream… but i'm sure we don't want that, do we?"

you forgot how to speak. forgot how to breathe. whenever your mind wanders, you've always thought about how you'll give this killer a piece of your mind, with the amount of fear and sorrow he inflicts upon other people. but you guess realities were a lot more different than expectations. the yuta you dreamed of meeting is in handcuffs, but fate is a fickle little thing.

"do we?" he repeats, slicing ever so slightly at your skin. enough to draw blood in droplets, never a waterfall.

"n – no."

he smiles. "you can make it up to me. do you want to make it up to me?"

the butterfly knife digs even further. a warning. and if you value your useless life, you should be smart enough to know what to answer. drawing a shaky breath, you tried forcing the ends of your lips up to a smile. "of course, yuta."

your voice breaks as your sobbing grips your body whole. the fear consuming your entire being like a parasite consuming the host. you would've shut down altogether if it weren't for the calloused hands gently gripping your face. "i know, i know. i see how regretful you are, baby. don't worry, i won't hurt you. you'll make it up to me."

anyone would be fucking stupid if you believe those words coming from a serial killer.

in your wrecked state, you barely register that he's pushing you down to your knees. skin coming in contact with the freezing linoleum floor as you refuse to look at what his hands are doing. yuta has pocketed his knife. the sound of a belt unbuckling in itself added insult to injury.

you stare blankly at his shoes as he shoves his bottoms down enough for his cock to show. if you squint hard enough, you'll see tiny splatters of blood in the shoelaces. whether or not he feels you're unresponsive, he doesn't show. maybe he doesn't care entirely. he takes one of your hands and used it to wrap around himself. he gasps, sharp, followed by a hiss.

you feel it throbbing and it strengthens the disgust you feel. no way you're going to give him the satisfaction of eye contact when you're already forced to blow this psycho.

"eyes up."

you sniffled, vulnerability present in the tone you speak. "i don't want to. please, don't make me."

if words alone aren't enough for you to follow orders, maybe you'll feel more motivated if held at gunpoint. it's unmistakable, the infamous desert eagle you've only seen in your nightmares. the last thing you ever expected is to be on the side where the bullet comes out.

the barrel is freezing as he digs it into the crown of your head. "soulmate or not. i don't shoot blanks."

your eyes looked up then. glaring as the tears rolled down your face. "you're a monster," you mutter under your breath. where you got the confidence to fight back is unknown.

"i've heard that before, be more creative next time," he holds your hair tight in one grip, shoving you forward, eye-level to his throbbing dick. "now… suck, baby."

"freeze!"

you knew that voice, you've been hearing it for the last two weeks. "jaehyun–!"

yuta cuts you off, shoving the gun into your mouth. the safety clicking off resonating in the tranquil room. it's deafening, and it makes you immobile.

"hands up. step away from the civilian." whether or not mark is nervous as he points the gun at the serial killer, he's doing a damn good job of hiding it.

yuta sighs, exasperated as he throws his head back. his raised arms came down to tuck himself back in his jeans, and the action made jaehyun's calm exterior crack. "i said, hands up, asshole!"

"chill out, motherfucker. i'm just trying to wear my pants." the serial killer hisses, glaring at jaehyun over his shoulder.

"mark, call back up already. what are you doing?" jaehyun mutters, side-eyeing the young detective whose gun shakes as he holds it up. the taller cop takes a step forward, eyes never leaving the notorious killer as he addresses you curtly. "(name), come here."

just as you plant your palms to the ground to push yourself up, one of yuta's hands shoves you down quick as lightning. "no. she stays here, with me."

jaehyun scowls, takes another step forward. "and what makes you think i'm going to let that happen?"

"i don't think. i know."

there's a constant ring in your ear as the gunshot temporarily renders you deaf. you've shut your eyes in utter fright, hands shooting up to cover your ears but it was too late. you refuse to open your eyes, you didn't want to see a dead body lying before you, even if it belonged to a heartless serial killer.

but when your eyes fluttered open, it's not yuta bleeding out on the ground.

"no, this can't be – jaehyun!"

it was a bullet straight to the head, no one could've survived a shot like that. his eyes are empty as he stares at you, unblinking, stoic. the color is yet to drown away from his milky complexion. but you can't even manipulate yourself into thinking that jaehyun's still alive. not when his eyes are empty, not when he just looks so lifeless.

it couldn't have been yuta who pulled the trigger.

his weapons were on the ground and the shot rang too fast. the sad face slayer couldn't have crouched down for his gun to shoot the cop, it would've taken too much time. and among the three men, there's only another person holding a weapon, and that was –

"great shot, mark."

the detective smiles, but with the blood splattered on his face, it looked cold. "told ya i've been practicing."

yuta hauls you up by the arms, addicted to how frail your body feels as it collapses against him. he's finally got his little soulmate in his arms. and he will never, ever let you go.

the cops lost – you've lost.

yuta, with a sense of victory coursing through his veins, took the liberty of trailing little pecks down your neck as he mutters, "mine, mine, mine!" but you couldn't care less about his display of mocked affection. not when the other person meant to protect you, turned out to be everything you think he wasn't.

mark must've felt the gravity of your stare as he crouches before jaehyun's bleeding body. grabbing the fallen cop's gun, he took it upon himself to empty the magazine. the lopsided grin he sends you broke your resolve more than yuta ever could.

"i'm sorry. it's nothing personal."

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