#but then it pans down and Strangle caught him

[roomy-ghosted]

Mary on a Cross is such a Krangle song it HURTS.

#I'm listening to it right now #and godd #knowing stuff about Strangle Macock and convergence that I can't share because my friend doesn't want it floating #ITS PAIN FELLAS ITS PAIN #I WANNA SHARE IT SO BADLYYY #Also because I forget what's common knowledge or not- #and i tend to just ramble so much- #knowing strangle is a dwarf is so funny #because idk I can imagine Kasper swooning and it looking like he falls on the floor offscreen #but then it pans down and Strangle caught him #n yea- #just. #grgrgrrr #but OUGH #Lines like 'your beauty never scared me' 'we were speeding together down the dark avenues' #THAT LINE HOLDS SO MUCH I WISH I COULD TELL AND RANT ABOUT BUT I FUCKING CANNNT #grgrrr #AND the 'we were searching for reasons to play by the rules' line. LITERALLY ALL OF THAT VERSE THAT PARAGRAPH WHATEVER #ITS CALLED. #hough #im in pain #i know mary on a cross is probably used for so many people's ships but i dont care it is LITERALLY them and I can't even fucking say why #i hate it here /lh

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Marks

Jung Wooyoung x gn reader

Your boyfriend finally has a few weeks off, and he wants to take full advantage of that.

✫彡wordcount: 2.5k

(>ᴗ•)genre:

p w/o plot , smut, dashes of fluff cause i can't help myself

ಠ_ಠwarnings/contents:

*deep breath*, established relationship, idol woo, semi-long read of pure filth and woo and reader being absolutely whipped for each other, cursing, pet names(love, baby, good boy), hand holding(obv), switch dynamics, sub leaning woo, begging, praise, hickeys, taking of a(1) picture, heavy make-out, teasing, possessive dialogue, forehead touches(tehe), hair pulling, unprotected penetration(wrap up yall), blowjob, cum swapping, not edited, WHEEEEW okay i'll stop now enjoy

SMUT UNDER CUT MNDI

It's the drop of something metal that wakes him up. He's disoriented for a moment, looking around the bedroom in confusion before he spots the familiar picture of you and him on the desk. He forces himself to roll out of the comfort of your blanket and trudges towards the source of the sound.

You're nowhere to be seen as he rounds the corner, and he opens his mouth to call out. All the comes out is a small screech when you pop up from behind the counter. Hand to his heart he speaks, "Jesus, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

You give him a tight lipped smile in response, tossing the wad of paper towels in the bin. "Sorry, Woo."

He leans on his toes and looks over the counter, seeing a small amount of batter splattered on the tile. "What are you making?"

"I waaas making waffles. I burnt most of them, and spilled the rest." You stand in silence for a moment before he laughs loudly, leaning his head on the cool table top. "Hey! Why are you laughing?"

Your boyfriend manages to calm his laughter by the time you reach him, leaning your head on the same surface to face him. "Don't make fun of me, dickhead. Was trying to do something nice." He lifts up his hand and cradles your cheek with a sweet smile.

"M'not, that was sweet, baby."

"But?"

"But you can't cook for shit."

You laugh with him this time, and watching as he cheek smooshes against the table only elicits more giggles. He leaves you to inspect the damage, throwing away the brunt breakfast. As he bends down to wipe up the remaining batter from the dropped pan, it dawns on you that he's shirtless- his belly forming a small roll as he bends over.

Caught in your own thoughts, you don't notice as Wooyoung tosses the trash and looks back over to you. He leans on the doorframe as your eyes subconsciously track his figure. "Baby?"

"Yup!" You snap up with wide eyes, face hot.

"Whatcha' thinking about?" He asks with a teasing tone, breath catching in his throat as your eyes scan over him again. You take a bit of your lower lip in your teeth, holding back a smile. He makes a strangled noise of shock, running to the table to sit across from you. "Did you just look me up and down and bite your lip? Cause if so, we're having sex right now."

You can't help but chuckle at his reaction. He's always over the moon when you do anything that even remotely compliments him. "Do you want to? I mean- do you wan-"

"Yes. Always, baby. Always." His eyes shine with pure adoration as you stand and cross over to be right infront of him. The chair scraps against the floor as he quickly positions it to face you.

"My Wooyoung," you grin, cupping his face as you lean down. "Always so needy."

He doesn't care that you're teasing, he takes your hips in his hands and pulls you into his lap, desperately locking his lips with yours. Your lips crash against each other, breakfast completely forgotten. You're only hungry for each other now.

He moans as you lick his lips, opening his mouth to let your tongue slip in. It grazes against his teeth and settles in his mouth, and he greedily sucks on it, tangling his own tongue up with it. Drool is starting to accumulate on your skin, but neither of you pay any mind to it.

One of his hands trail up your back, snaking under the fabric of your sleep shirt and resting between your shoulder blades. The other stays glued to your hip. He smirks into the sloppy kiss as he feels your hip begin to grind the slightest bit.

You lean away for oxygen, and he follows you desperately, chasing small pecks until you grip onto the back of his neck and pull him so he's sitting flush against the back of the chair. Both of your panting fills the empty apartment, followed by your voice. "I love you."

His hand on your back, your hand on the back of his neck, both breathing heavily, you lean into each other, foreheads resting against one another. Your eyes desperately watching the others.

"I love you," he echoes. "I'm so utterly in love with you. I never want to let you go. I want to be yours forever. I want you to be mine forever."

You blink the wetness away from your eyes at the confession. Not trusting your voice- you rely on your lips to relay your emotions.

This kiss, just as desperate, is filled with love. You let him know, all but consuming him as you move your lips and pull him impossibly closer by the grip you have on his neck. Your opened mouth kisses trail down to his jaw, to his neck, and he whines.

"My Love," you coo, "you always sound so pretty for me." This, obviously, calls for another louder whine from him as he rolls his hips up towards yours. You bite back a groan as his bulge rubs against you. "You want me that badly, that you have to whine?"

"Yes," he whimpers shamelessly, watching intently as your hand trails down his exposed skin to play with the string on his sweats. "Please."

"Please?"

"Fuck, please touch me. Please let me touch you."

Wordlessly, you strip off your t-shirt, leaving you even in terms of clothing. He looks up at you with a gentle, genuine grin, his hands going to wander across the expanse your skin. They caress every little bit of skin they can as your lips slide across his neck.

Suddenly, with wide eyes, he slowly pushes you back and holds onto your shoulder, using all of his self control not to simply stare. "You okay?" You ask.

"I want you to leave marks."

The words go straight to your gut, heat pooling up in you, so quickly your afraid it will flood. "Huh?"

"I want you to leave marks."

"Really?" The look on your face is worth more than anything to him.

"Fuck, please, yes. I wanted this for so long, Baby. Fucking mark me up."

You don't have to be told again, knowing that now that he's got an extended break, he won't have to worry about getting scolded by his makeup artist and teased by his members.

You dive right in, going for his jugular like an animal. He wraps his arms around your back and pulls your chest flush with his, hands holding onto your shoulders to ground himself as you give him a feeling he'd only dreamed of thus far. You take your sweet time sucking the best hickeys that you can manage. It effective riles the both of you up, and when you discover his favorite spot- you refuse to let up.

"Ah~ yes," his pornographic moan is followed by the sweetest whispers of praise, "I love it. So g- so good, Baby."

He continues to hold you as you lean back, eyes wet with unshed tears. "Why'd you stop? Don't stop." His glazed eyes follow your hand as you reach onto the table and snatch up your phone.

The smirk on your swollen lips tells him he's not forgotten, and his intuition is proven right when you face the camera towards him. "Look how pretty you look, Love." One quiet shutter later and your turning your phone to face him with a giant smile on you face.

He's looking behind the camera, towards you. Lust and love and adoration swirl in his wet eyes, glazing them over. His neck his covered in hickeys, most of which are small. But one... one below his right ear, smack in the middle of his thick neck: is darkening already, and it has the tent in his pants tightening.

"You know what those say?" Your voice draws him back to reality. He sits the phone down with a shaking hand and after he does, you place that hand on the curve of your ass.

He makes a small sound in response, uh-uh.

He knows. That's why he's so excited at the fact you've finally been able to give him a taste of his own hickey-treatment that he does so often on you.

"It means," you begin as you grind down on him, earning a low moan, "back the fuck up, because I'm the only one who gets to have Jung Wooyoung."

You gasp as he stands up with you in his arms, wrapping you legs around him and holding on for dear life as he runs to the bed room. "Woo! Slow down!"

You tumble onto the bed together, a small chuckle leaving your lips at his antics. "Oh, Wooyoung, you've got so worked up with just some kisses," you tease in going to brush back a stray from his hair when his hand clasps around your wrist and pushes it to the bed.

All the remaining tears are blinked away within seconds as he stares down at you. "Take your pants off." He says blankly as he releases you hand and removes his own. You quickly follow suit, sliding your shorts and your underpants off and kicking them to a far off corner in the unmade bed.

At some point, he pulled the bedside draw out and now has a bottle of lube in one hand, his hard cock in the other, lathering it up and warming up the cool gel for you. It's something he always does, but you can never get over it.

"I've never wanted to fuck you more." He groans as he maneuvers his slick hand to your hole. "I want to fuck you so hard." You moan as his long fingers stretch you out, hands searching for something to hold onto.

He discards the bottle and takes up both your hands, letting you hold onto his free hand while he works you with the other.

"Don't hold back," you encourage. "Don't hold back."

He takes your advice, working you open faster with unrelenting thrust of his fingers until he feels your fingers tap on his hand twice.

He's hovering over you next thing you know, positioning himself and sinking into you. He lets his head rest onto yours, watching your face scrunch up ever so slightly as he slowly fill you.

"Gah- Jesus, Woo, you feel so good!" You wrap your arms around his neck and grip onto the roots of his hair at the back of his neck.

It's his turn now, for his face to screw up in pleasure as you use his scalp as a grounding technique as he fully sits inside you. "So good, Baby. You... so good." He can't help but laugh a little at your fucked out voice, searching for words that are nowhere to be found. He pecks your lips and then props himself up, groaning as your fingers keep a grip on his hair even as he moves.

"Don't hold back?" He repeats your words, making you nod.

"Want you to fuck me good, fuck me stupid."

Whatever you want, he will always give to you.

He pulls out, and teases you for a moment, letting your hips chase his until he pounds back into you. The moans you let out are a sweet melody, one he can't ever seem to get enough of.

A shattered breath falls from his lips into your shoulder, where he's buried his head for the time being. "You always take me so well." He feels the way you clench around him, his words going straight into the boiling pot of heat in your stomach. "Your mine, you know that? All mine."

"Yeah," you croak out, holding onto him as tight as you can as he continues to hammer into you. His name falls like a prayer from your bruised lips, sending a signal to his cock that makes him go all the harder. "And you know," you struggle, pull him by his hair so he faces you once again. "You're fucking mine."

"God, fuck!" A chocked sob tumbles away from him as he looks deep into your eyes, watching you bounce with every rough plunge he makes. He takes hold of your hips and holds you in place as he leans down and starts giving you the same treatment you have to his neck: all while his rhythm stays ruthless.

"Want you to cum on my cock." You whine out at his words, his actions and words quickly becoming all too much. He continues to suckle on your neck as you hit your peak, letting you bring him ever closer with your arms around his head as he fucks you through it. Shockwaves grip your very soul as he continues to hit the perfect spots inside you.

He stills inside you, letting you hold him and rubbing up and down your sides gently as you descend. Your loud moans have settled down huffs of air as your hips jerk. "You always do so good for me. I fucking love how it feels when you cum around me." His words draw out a high pitched whine from you, and you smack his shoulder playfully in a warning not to get you started while your so sensitive.

He slowly pulls himself out and helps you sit up, bringing you to face his cock. Not giving him a chance to recuperate, you open wide and engulf him in the warmth of your mouth. He sucks in a sharp breath and places his hands on the top of your head, holding you still for a moment. You look up, and catch his gaze.

And, truly, it takes everything in him not to fall over. You look at him with eyes so full of genuine care and love even while doing something so promiscuous. It makes his heart beat so loud, he'd be shocked if you didn't hear it.

He nods, and lets you take control again, bobbing your head and swirling your tongue and holding onto his thighs just the way he likes until he's coming completely undone. He reaches down to his thigh and grabs ahold of your hand, holding tightly as he cums into your mouth, whimpering.

You slide off him and lick up the remains of his seed, making him twitch.

He lays down in the empty space beside you and in no time, youre straddled on his stomach: leaning down to kiss him. He hums as the salty mixture of your saliva and his cum hits his tongue.

You take a few turns pushing it back and forth until you pull away before he can do it last minute and hold your hand over his mouth. He gives you his best begging eyes, which are admittedly very bad, but you smirk in response. "It's your turn, My Love. Don't think I've lost track."

He swallows thickly, and licks your hand. "Say 'ah'."

"Ah," he exaggerates as he sticks out his tongue, clean of any residue.

"Good boy."

"Oh, that's just playing dirty!" He yells as he takes you in his arms, telling you over your giggles, "if you get me hard again, it's your turn to swallow."

#jung wooyoung #wooyoung #wooyoung smut #ateez #ateez smut #fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez wooyoung #smut fanfiction #smut fic

[not-goldy]

Kinda obvious its Jimin and he wanted no mistake about it and he made sure from the title alone. I don't think its a joke anymore. He clearly feels some type of way of being led on a bit, Interntional or not. To me, it sounds like him laying his foot down and saying put your money where your mouth is, cause the things you say to me aren't so friendly, but then the way you treat me, isn't adding up either. Which goes back to Sweet Night when even back then he questioned if what was happening was just things in his head, that his best friend was making him question or is it really real. A clear indicator even back then he was getting mixed signals from someone he calls his best friend, on a song actually written by him and his feelings. And since we really and truly don't know what really goes on with these members. I know we have our guesses and our proofs we hold onto, but no one knows for certain, but I do hope for their sake they get this figured out one day, cause I can understand Tae's frustration, Esp when you keep getting unclear signs, which he may be reading into more on his own OR mixed signs he is getting for real, back then and still today and he's done pretending & playing around with it. He laid the hammer down. He said you got 95 hours to respond Jimin.

Done fucked around and caught feelings. Anyone could have seen it coming a mile away. It was only a matter of time.

Well that ship has sailed for them

Two ships in the night as he says

Jimin owes him absolutely nothing. When he says I love you the most and then acts like he doesn't believe Jimin feels the same way when he says it back at least deep down he knows where Jimin stands. In a parallel universe I'll cast a spell on Jimin for him to fall in love but in this universe I'm genuinely scared Jungkook will track me down and strangle me to death with his bare hands 😩

That frying pan haunts my dreams to this day🥲

These things are normal we catch feelings for our friends all the time. There there Tae😭😭😭😭😭😭

Now let it go and let's fine you a nice Korean Actress ready to settle down and pop out them mini Kims

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Thanksgiving with gentle giant! Jason?

Jason set the pan you'd sent him with down in the kitchen, "Need any help?" he asked.

"You didn't bring-"

"She's working for Charlie until his ex's mom picks the kids up," he said, "Then she'll get cleaned up and-"

"She doesn't have to dress-"

"She had a keg like explode or something when she was setting up for the Straggler's Dinner at the bar," Jason snorted.

"Ah," Alfred said, "Well then that makes perfect sense. What did she send?"

"I didn't look," Jason admitted, "But I think she made some bourbon balls and a couple kinds of fudge?"

"Bless her," Alfred said, "You did tell her-"

"In her house you don't show up to dinner empty-handed," Jason said smiling a little.

________

Jason opened the door and exhaled slowly, relieved that you made it. The roads were getting slick and- even if you'd told him you were running late when you called him, flustered and panting as you struggled with a bra on wet skin- it didn't mean he wasn't watching the clock and fretting.

"I'm so sorry I'm late-"

"It's alright," Jason interrupted, kissing you quiet as he ushered you inside out of the chill. "Dinner's not late or anything. I let Alfred know when you called."

"I still feel bad I hate being late-"

"Not to worry," Alfred said coming to take your coat, "In this house getting everyone in one place at an appointed time is a minor miracle."

Jason helped you out of your coat and smiled a little, "Y/N, Alfred, Alfred this is Y/N."

"Pleased to meet you," you tell him, smiling breaking off just briefly to make a noise suggestive of strangulation when Jason's attempt to untangle your scarf only resulted in more tangles.

"As soon as Jason is done strangling you, Miss Stephanie is demanding I let her get into your Candy," Alfred said smiling, "I've been told it's 'life-changing."

"I don't know about that but-"

"Shut up it's good," Jason said kissing your head.

"Listen my candy thermometer got put in the dishwasher and it was very stressful yesterday-"

"Miss Y/N." Alfred said winking, "If you don't tell them, they'd never know. Just pretend you meant to do it like that."

"If Y/N is here can I get the Bourbon balls out?" Steph called down the hall.

"Lord," Alfred said, "If you'll excuse me-" And before he could finish that sentence, he'd strode off to keep Stephanie and Dick from ruining the way he'd arranged everything to be served.

"Ready for this?" Jason asked, kissing you.

"Ready as I'll ever be- I haven't done a normal family dinner in... god 6 years? Maybe longer. Mom stopped doing real dinners when Ty left for college."

"Well- if worse comes to worst you can always have Charlie call and tell you the ice machine caught fire again."

"That damn ice machine," you snort, taking the arm he offered to let him lead you into the dining room.

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #gentle giant!jason #ask answered #minors dni

[oneforthemunny]

Can I please request teacher reader buying Eddie flowers, or something that is low-key but ends up bringing him to tears because he feels so loved?

(He’s also totally the guy who saves every piece of the kids art from finger paintings to their little projects from school)

I hope you're ready for pain bitches (and by pain I mean such tender sweetness it will bring tears to your eyes)

It was a small promotion. Eddie had brushed it off like it was nothing, focusing more on the pay raise and diminishing the rest, but you wouldn't hear it. Squealing and wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tight to you as you rocked him back and forth with pure glee.

The superintendent had wanted to meet with Eddie, a fact that only a few hours earlier had him wracked with anxiety. Instead of the impending doom of being "let go" like he'd worried himself sick about, it was the opposite. A promotion.

The school needed to hire a maintenance worker for the middle school too, but the budget was tight. Not enough to pay an entire other salary, but enough to promote Eddie to janitor of the elementary school kids, and do some oddball maintenance work for them too. He supposed the time in the shop with Wayne had helped, the pay increase showed him that. The superintendent boasting on him about what a great job he did, they just needed more of him.

Eddie was thrilled, grinning when he told you, still a little shy and bashful about bragging on himself, promising that he'd finally get to take you and Oliver and Olivia on the vacation you deserved. You ignored his negative tone, cupping his cheeks and peppering his face in kisses. You were proud, so fucking proud. Beaming in adoration at him and he basked in it.

"Babe," Eddie called, plastic bags full of detergent and milk you'd sent him out for, kicking the door shut gently. "I got the stuff."

Eddie's ears perked, hearing the quiet shushing tones and tiny giggled from the kitchen. His brow raised, living room lacking tiny children watching cartoons or playing with toys.

Eddie called your name, fishing out his keys to sling them in the bowl, brows furrowed when he turned the corner. "Baby, are you-"

"Congratulations!"

Eddie startled, stepping back at the sudden sound, eyes rounding in surprise. The three of you, his tiny, perfect family, all stood in front of the kitchen table. Oliver on a chair, your hand on his back protectively, Olivia on your hip, clapping and gargling excitedly in her little baby blabber that always had Eddie's heart turning to mush. In the middle, a small pan cake. Strawberry frosting that read 'Congratulations Dad!' in sloppy frosting writing- no doubt Ollie's, judging by the sticky residue on his shirt.

"Look, Dad!" Oliver grinned. "We made you a cake!"

Eddie felt it coming, the burn of tears, throat constricting and strangling his words in his throat. "You did?" He lilted as best he could, clearing his throat lightly, too overcome with emotion.

"Uh-huh!" Oliver bobbed his head, too caught up in his own excitement to see how emotional Eddie was getting. "Mom let me break the eggs in, and-and stir it, and we both decorated it! Olivia tried to help, but she kept hitting it with her hands and it got everywhere." Oliver giggled, looking at his baby sister.

"We just wanted to say congratulations." You beamed, rubbing Olivia's back gently. "To show you how proud we are of you, and how happy we are for you."

Eddie pressed his lips together. He refused to cry. He couldn't. Not in front of the kids. "Wow." Eddie choked out, swiping at his nose as casually as he could. "I-I... I don't know what to say."

"Do you like it?" Oliver's voice was softer now, shoulders drooping in defeat.

"No, no!" Eddie said frantically, shaking his head. "I mean, yes. I just... I was really surprised." Eddie said genuinely, setting the bags down slowly. "And I am really thankful you guys did this all for me. So thank you." He nodded, jaw flexing to keep his tears from spilling.

"Congratulations, honey." You muttered, leaning up to press your lips to his in a short, sweet kiss over Olivia's head.

Eddie's hand found your cheek, stroking it lovingly, eyes swimming with emotion. Olivia squealed, squirming and reaching for her father, grabby hands at him that made Eddie smirk, hoisting her onto his own hip.

"Thank you, you guys." Eddie ran a hand over Oliver's head, pulling him closer to his chest. You beamed when you looked at them, Eddie's arm raising to let you in, so you were snuggled to his side, arm over Olivia's back, scratching Oliver's head gently. Eddie's lips pressed to your head, nose lingering over your scalp, breathing in the familiar scent of you to calm his emotions, heart swelling and bursting with love and pride. His little family.

#vivisblurbgame #oneforthemunny #janitor!eddie munson

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Made For Him IX

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, blood and gore, violence, death, grief, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Peter finds himself alone after the loss of those around him, so he decides to find a cure to his grief.

Characters: Peter Parker

Note: Hello, again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.

Love you all like Garfield loves lasagna. Take care. 💖

The Creation

You sat on the couch, teetering at the edge as Peter poked around the tablet, standing along the rim of your vision. You were nervous as you twiddled your clumsy fingers and stared at the television. He said there was something he needed to show you, to help you learn. To understand what to do.

The screen glowed a different tint of black and Peter shifted his weight. He lowered the tablet as he approached and set it aside as he sat beside you. You smiled at him then the screen. You wondered what movie he chose.

"Watch," he sidled closer, his arm against yours.

You obeyed and focused as a woman came onto screen, batting her overlined eyes as she tossed around her big curls. Her makeup was heavy and thick. You didn't like it. It wasn't like Audrey or Hedy. Too much. 

She stuck her tongue out in an expression that made you feel strange. She kept it out, as if wanting you to see the depth of her throat. You frowned and glanced over at Peter.

"What–"

He shushed you and pointed to the screen, "just watch."

You snapped your mouth shut and turned forward once more. A man appeared and grabbed the woman by a hank of her hair as the shot panned out. He drew her to him and forced her mouth to his, a sloppy kiss that smacked noisily. You wrinkled your nose as your stomach bubbled. It wasn't romantic like Scarlett and Rhett. It was… different.

The man shoved the woman down, their naked bodies stealing a gasp from you. You covered your mouth and gaped. The man's… part was big and hard like Peter's was that night. The woman touched it, wrapped her fingers around it like he'd told you to. The groaned as they stayed intertwined.

Peter moved his arm and hooked it behind you, holding you close as your eyes stuck to the television. You couldn't look away. It was an odd sense of horror. As if looking at him would make it real. As if you were caught doing something bad.

You trembled as your palms moved flush to your scalding cheeks. The man spun the woman around and she hit the side of the white sofa. He smacked her ass and you flinched. Why was he being so mean?

You pointed to the TV, about to ask the question but dropped your hand. Peter rubbed your arm as he kept you in his embrace.

"What is it, precious?" He cooed.

You shook your head as your legs jittered uncontrollably. You squirmed as the scene strangled you and smothered every pore. You wanted to look away, to close your eyes, but you couldn't. 

The man took his part as he stepped up behind the woman and pressed it to her. To her secret spot, the one that Peter touched before. He pushed until he was inside her and you squealed, hiding behind your hands. You stomped your feet.

"No! Turn off! Turn off!"

"Precious, it's okay, it's… natural. It's human," he coaxed as he took your hand and dragged it from your face, "they love each other see. That's what happens when you love someone."

"Nooooo," you whined and saw how the man rocked against the woman. Shouting again. 

"Precious, please, calm down–"

"Peter! I tell you, I don't want to see!"

He pouted and clung to your hands, the clapping flesh and groans floating from the speakers burned in your nape. You wanted it off! You didn't want to watch.

You twisted free of him and pushed him away as he reached for you again. You stood and staggered around, hitting the tablet frantically with your finger. 

"Off! Off! Off!"

Peter rose and followed you. He latched onto your arm and you pulled away, flinging him off you with unexpected strength. He stumbled and hit the low table, nearly falling across it. You clutched your head as a swelling sensation filled it.

"No. No. It– no!" You sputtered hotly, "I say no. Again. Again. No."

He straightened and swallowed as he searched your face, "no? You don't love me?"

"I don't say… this, I said off," you pointed to the frozen screen, "I say off. I say no see. You don't hear."

"Precious, you don't hear me," he retorted, "I love you and you hurt me. Don't you see? You…" he shook his head and looked around the floor, "what if I had fallen? I could have hit my head."

"I don't mean fall," you said. "I only…" you glanced at the television, "upset."

"So you would take it out on me?" He scoffed, "don't you love me?"

"I… love, I tell, I love Peter," you clenched your hands in fists, "but I don't… understand."

He neared you quietly. You watched him, afraid. He was mad at you and he should be. You hurt him. That was bad.

"Sorry, Peter, I very sorry to you."

"Precious," he cradled your face between his hands, "I will forgive you," he stroked your cheek with his thumb, a dull feeling, "but you have to let me love you." He leaned in and kissed your forehead, "I'll be nice, I promise. Won't you let me love you?"

You blinked, chest thumping, eyes tinging with fire. You reached to touch his hands and sniffled. You saw the pain in his face and you felt worse that it was your fault.

"I love Peter so Peter can love," you said, "Peter love," you squeezed his hand, "I…let."

He smiled, his brown eyes shining as warmth radiated, burning away his despair, "I really do love you precious, alright? I just want to show you."

"I say yes," you repeated, "tell what do."

The Creator

"Let's go upstairs," Peter turned his creation away from the television before she could look again, "alright?"

She nodded. Silent and stiff as he slung his arm around her once more. He guided her into the hallway and to the stairs, nudging her up ahead of him. She still wore the damp bathing suit and sand stuck to the crease beneath her bottom.

He followed her up and she lumbered into the bedroom. The weight of reluctance in her step irked him. He didn't understand why she was being difficult, he gave her everything and she just refused to understand. She loved him so why didn't she want him like he wanted her?

Well, she didn't know how to want him. He tried to show her but she couldn't understand. So he would make her feel what he felt. Then she would know, then she would want him.

She stopped just inside and stared ahead blankly. He edged around her and stood at her side, staring at the bed. He got that flutter in his stomach, that excitement. He wanted her bad, it had him hard and heavy.

"You have to take your swimsuit off," he said as he untied the top of his shorts, "okay?"

She didn't move. He shoved his shorts down with a huff and kicked them off his ankles. He went to her and faced her, taking the straps of her bathing suit as she winced. Her eyes rounded as they met his. Slowly, her gaze wandered down and quickly flitted to the ceiling. 

"You can look," he coaxed, "that's okay. Because I love you and you love me."

She nodded and her throat bobbed. He pulled the straps and rolled down the top of her suit. She squeaked but didn't stop him. He would take it slow, she was just scared. Really, he was too.

He peeled off the bathing suit and helped her step out of it. She was rigid as a board. He led her to the bed and told her to lay down.

"Yes, Peter, I lay down," she whispered before she crawled onto the mattress and spread out on her back. 

He watched her, clearing the lump in his throat as he admired her figure. Her proportions were a bit off and the scars were still stark across her mismatched flesh, but she was beautiful. She was perfect because she was his.

"You're so pretty, precious," he purred as he inched towards the bed, his arousal bouncing before him.

"Am pretty?" She peeked over at him shyly. 

"Yeah," he put a knee on the bed, "I tell you, don't I?"

"Yes," she answered, her eyes darting back to the ceiling, "you nice."

"I am, so trust me," he sat beside her and caressed her jaw, "okay?"

"Trust. I trust," she said.

Without a word, he traced the line of her throat. He watched how she twitched and tensed. He could only imagine what she felt. Everything was new. The first time. He wished he could go back but with her, it was new and strange.

He trailed along her chest and around her tits. He doted on each, toying with her nipples until they were buds. He sensed her baited breath as he did, felt the goosebumps  he crept down her stomach and over her pelvis. She quivered as his fingertips danced on your thigh.

He parted her legs. After a moment of resistance, she let him. He touched her gently, feeling her warmth, exploring her folds. She shuddered as he teased her clit, pinching and tickling, rolling his thumb around as he watched his hand. The glisten that rose and shone along her lips assured him she felt it too.

He poked around her entrance. She held in another lungful of air. He dipped into her with one digit and she whimpered as her walls squeezed. He slid deeper until he could go no further and wiggled. She gasped out her breath.

"Is that nice?" He asked.

She was silent as she curled her fingers up, her voice rising in a strained eke, "nice…yes."

Peter groaned as he slid his finger back and in again. She coated him with her anticipation and he gripped his dick with his other hand. He played with himself in tandem with her.

"Precious, I want you so bad," he gritted, "it hurts. Do you want me to hurt?"

"No, no hurt, Peter," she quavered.

"Good," he pulled his finger free and smeared it down your leg, "don't be afraid, okay, I'm gonna move."

She nodded and moved her hands over her stomach, still tight fists. He got up and knelt between her legs. He pumped himself slowly as his tip throbbed and his balls ached. He grunted as he looked down at her.

"I'm gonna…" he wasn't sure how to explain it, it felt awkward, "put this where my finger was, okay?"

"What–" she looked down, "that big."

He should be flattered and it was absurd enough to make him snort. He stroked his dick as he bent over her, rubbing against her folds as she squealed and hit his chest in surprise.

"Just… stay still," he girded as he pushed against her, up, down, prodding finally at her entrance, "it hurts a bit at first, but it will stop."

"Hurt?" She croaked, "I…"

"Just for a little, I'll be careful," he leaned on his elbow and tilted his hips, easing into her, just his head as he let out a sharp breath. "Oh, you feel good, precious."

She whimpered and pushed on his chest, "no, hurt. No."

"I know, I know," he pet her head and pushed in further, "I told you, just a bit–"

"Much. Hurt much," she dug her nails into him.

"Shhhh," he sank deeper and groaned, "just a little more."

"Pet- er," she garbled as tears sprouted from her eyes, "please, no, stop."

"Just let me–" He held his breath as he rocked, urging himself deeper with each thrust, "almost."

He slid in to his limit and murmured. She felt so good, so warm, so tight. Fuck, she was so perfect for him. She shook and her sobs flooded into his delight.

"Precious, please," he wiped a tear with his thumb, "it's gonna feel good soon," he rolled his hips into her, "relax."

She clamped her eyes shut and turned her face away. She gnashed her teeth and nodded, swallowing back her pain. She slipped her hands up to his shoulders and gripped his firm muscle. He could feel her calming, feel his way grow easier as he rolled his hips.

"That's good," he rasped as he built his rhythm, "so good for me, precious."

#peter parker #dark peter parker #peter parker x reader #frankenstein #au #horror au #series #made for him #avengers #mcu #marvel #spider-man #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

[knottyk]

Big Baby

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

Word count: 889

Tags: food, fluff, reader is a little snappy, eddie is a big goof

a/n: hi!! so sorry for making you wait so long :’) I kinda strayed away from some parts of your request, i hope u don’t mind. 😅 Thank you for your request! The image is very silly in my mind, i hope you enjoy :)) @eddiejosephluv

The batter hisses against the hot pan as you pour it carefully, trying to make a perfect circle. It had been your fifth attempt and you were hoping that after adding a few tablespoons of flour, your batter won’t be too runny or too stiff. The last time you’d cooked pancakes, you ended up with far too many for two people ending with you and Eddie being too stuffed for lunch. So far, it seems like a success.

You swipe your spatula under it once the bubbles appeared and got ready to flip it without ruining the shape. In your mind, you counted down from 3. 

3, 2, 1… But your focus popped like a balloon when fingers dig on your sides and Eddie’s chin slips on your shoulder. “Hi.”

Your eyelids flutter shut as you contain your breathing, not having the best patience in the morning. Especially not when you were so close to perfecting your circle. 

Eddie hums with his lips on your neck but he’s fast to pull away when you don’t react, your hands hanging still on the air and nose slightly flaring with every exhale. 

“Babe?” He still has hands on your waist but he’s ready to step back if you snap. 

You open your eyes with an exasperated sigh and Eddie is confused. 

“What did I do?” He asks calmly but his mind is running on five hundred horsepower. 

Shit. At this point what didn’t he do? 

“You ruined my circle.” You wriggle out of his grasp and lazily scooped it out of the pan and dumped it on the pile of very wobbly pancakes.

Eddie watched you plop it without care and he’s careful not to laugh audibly. He’s already on thin ice, it seems. “I’m sorry.”

Pouring another one on the pan, you tut when one side runs slightly over the outline of the circle. Eddie sits himself on the counter beside the sink and starts to stir the batter on the bowl. You watch him for a second before speaking with a deadpan voice. “Don’t over whisk it.”

He stares at you but you keep your eyes on the pan, watching each bubble appear to the surface. Trying to catch your attention, he makes a point to hit the sides of the bowl with the fork to make a louder noise. 

“It’s on you if we’re eating chewy pancakes.”

When you don’t even blink, he tries to lean in and poke his head in front of your face. With the bowl on his arms and another hand stirring, he loses his balance and falls into the well of the sink with the bowl sliding off the side. You caught it before it crashed on the floor but not fast enough before the batter drooped out. 

Turning the stove off, you look down in shock on the sticky, gloopy mess on the floor then up to Eddie who was awkwardly stuck in the sink. He stares at you with wide eyes, paused mid-attempt at pulling himself up. 

But laughter bubbles out of your lips as your grip on the bowl loosens and suddenly, you’re wiping your tears out of your eyes. Eddie holds a smile that looked more like a grimace and a wince as he watches you double with laughter. 

He looks really funny. He’s kind of folded as the sink is almost up to his waist, legs dangled and overflowing on the counter. His elbow is strangled with the faucet and a fork is tightly gripped in his fist.

You wipe your sticky hands on a damp rag before stepping over the batter, stopping in front of the sink. “Are you okay?” You ask breathlessly, tiny spurt of chuckles cutting your words. 

It is now your turn to bite back your laughs as Eddie jokingly glares at you as he leans on the window behind him, hand caressing his elbow. “That actually hurt.” He says.

You fake a pout and swipe his hair out of his face. “Aw, is wittle baby eddie huwt? Has he got a boo boo?” 

Happy to finally get off your bad side, he nods with closed eyes and tiny sniffles. 

Returning back to your normal voice, you pull him by the hand. “Come here, you big baby.”

It takes you a few good tugs before he’s stumbling out of the sink and you start to wipe the floor while crouching.

You scoot back to get a few splatters further from the counters when you hit Eddie’s leg. You look up and he’s still pouting with a hand over his elbow. “What?”

“My boo boo.” He mimics your words. 

You haven’t forgotten your annoyance towards him but it was very silly and shallow. You’ve come to terms now that you just really woke up on the wrong side of the bed and you’re looking for a way to vent the frustration. Eddie didn’t deserve to be snapped at for something he didn’t really do.  

With an eye roll, you got up to inspect his elbow. There really was a bruise forming where he probably hit it on his fall. His big brown eyes were trained on you, watching attentively. So you give his elbow a kiss, peck his cheek, and then a quick one on the lips.

“Okay. Let’s get that taken care of, baby.”

masterlist

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie fluff #eddie munson #eddie imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie fanfic

[jack-daww]

Angst prompt:

Character A is queer and has a run-in with a bigot/homophobe one afternoon. They try to pretend it doesn't bother them, but they come home clearly feeling devastated

So, CW: transphobia, homophobia, slurs

He smiles when he hears the door open. His little sister was out shopping with a friend for their birthday. They have been excited for it all week. He takes the pan off the stove and grabs a towel to clean his hands with.

"Hey, sibs! How was it?"

He frowns when his sister doesn't answer, the smile falling off of his face as he turns around to face them. They're not looking at him, hair pulled out of their braid to instead fall into their face. Their hands are gripping onto their new skirt tightly, knuckles turning white. He takes a step closer, his voice softening.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

His sister shakes their head, still refusing to look at him. Their voice is quiet when they speak.

"I'm gonna go get changed."

He can do nothing but watch as his sister runs off, locking the bathroom door behind themself. He stays still for a little while, before pulling out his phone and putting on a different playlist. His sister and him have very similar music tastes, but the playlist he was listening to while cooking doesn't feel appropriate when his sister is so clearly distressed. The one he puts on now is one his sister made some time ago. One of their favourites.

He hums along under his breath, but otherwise stays quiet as he finishes cooking and sets the table. After that, there is nothing to do but wait.

It takes almost half an hour for his sister to come back to the living room. They're wearing loose pants now, and an oversized hoodie. The makeup they spend all morning on is gone, their skin red from how roughly they must have rubbed at it. Their eyes are red, too. The only thing left over from their earlier look is some glitter caught in their beard.

He sits up immediately when his sister approaches him. They sit down on the couch next to him, shoulders hunched. He wants to hug them.

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

They shrug, then hesitate. He waits for his sister to give a tiny nod before he wraps an arm around their shoulders, pulling them against his side. They give a shuddering breath.

"Did I look stupid?"

He frowns. They were so excited that morning, showing off their outfit to him. He told them it looks good. It did look good.

"No, you looked amazing. Why do you ask now?"

They shake their head, but don't pull away from him. In fact, they seem to make themself even smaller against his side.

"Doesn't matter. It's stupid."

"Hey, no. Don't say that."

He rubs his hand over their arm. He's tempted to ask them to look at him, but he doesn't want to take away whatever safety he can give his sister by letting them lean against him. They scoff and he squeezes their shoulders.

"I meant what I said this morning. You looked amazing. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

They don't answer for a while and he waits. Really, he's half expecting for them to not answer at all by the time they speak up.

"Just some guy on the bus. He, uh, he said my skirt was too short. He called me a fag."

He pulls his sister even tighter against his side. Their skirt reached to their knees, there is no way that qualifies as too short. He wants to punch whoever made his sister this upset. Whoever thinks it's okay to say this stuff to people. His sister presses their face against his shoulder and he hums softly, pulling them closer without allowing his grip to tighten because of his anger. Warm tears seep into his shirt as his sister quietly cries against his shoulder, their voice strangled as they continue speaking.

"Why today of all days? I was having a good week. Today was amazing and now it isn't. I shouldn't even let him get to me like this, but I feel so dirty."

He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what to say. He has never been in that situation before, he doesn't know what would help his sister right now. So for now he just holds them and lets them cry against his shoulder. Eventually, the crying stops and his sister falls silent. Even their breathing is quiet in a way he knows is deliberate. He taps their shoulder twice to get their attention.

"How about I make you a hot chocolate, and then you can tell me what your friends and you did over dinner, okay? You don't have to eat right now, but sit with me?"

They nod, but don't let go quite yet. It takes a few minutes before they pull back enough to let him stand up and by the time he returns from the kitchen with the hot chocolate, his sister is still sitting on the couch, looking at him with clouded eyes. He smiles softly and places the mug at her place on the table.

He left the food simmer on the stove to keep it warm until his sister is ready to eat, so he doesn't have to heat it back up before he moves the pots to the table. His sister slowly gets up when he returns to the table and sits at their place. Their hands wrap around the mug of hot chocolate.

At first, everything is silent, the only noise the soft music still playing in the background. Then, when he has finished filling his plate, when his sister has started sipping at their hot chocolate, they start talking. They talk about their friends, and trying on clothes, and getting ice cream. And slowly, they start smiling again.

#answered asks #my writing #sorry it took me so long to answer #(i currently have writer's block so I'm doing small prompts again) #unnamed ocs

[fearthetallman]

Krang Pie Chapter 6

Warnings: cooking krang, eating krang alive, gore/torture

[first][previous][next]

Chapter 6

Whenever Mikey got the chance, he would slip away to his room. There were so many techniques he wanted to try.

He tried boiling. Pretty bad, took away most of the flavor. He accidentally undercooked one and bit into it only to get mush, like biting into a rotten apple. He decided not to do boiling anymore.

He dug out their old pressure cooker. Not bad, and really brought out the sweet flavor. If he added enough other things, he was sure he could add layers of flavor to the meat. But it took forever so he didn’t use it too often.

Next was the air fryer. It was a lot faster than cooking it a pan but not quite as crisp.

He really wanted to try baking it but couldn’t figure out a way to do so without being caught. So instead, he kept bringing the ingredients to his room whenever he could scurry them away.

Milk, eggs and butter were things he dared not take back, however. If he placed them down on his floor, he might forget about them until they started to smell. The last thing he wanted was others coming into his room.

The krang was as stubborn as ever, still claiming its superiority even as Mikey ripped its limbs off. Not that he could complain. It made it easier to torture him.

When Mikey started experimenting with breading, he got the real flavor to unleash. Frying them up, you could hardly differentiate them from pork chops. Although they were a bit more tender and tasted a little too sweet.

He got so wrapped up in finding the perfect seasoning to go with the breading that he didn’t notice Raph until he was already in his room.

Paprika, onion powder, and a tin of salt fell from Mikey’s arms. Raph looked up, still halfway through a piece of meat. “Oh, sorry! Something smelled so good in here I couldn’t stop myself.”

His heart thundered in his head and his eyes swung to the closet. Closed. He had put the krang away because his squirming had gotten boring. So long as it didn’t say anything, he was safe.

“You know you’re supposed to knock before coming into someone’s room,” he said, voice strangled by anxiety. He knew he should feel annoyed and angry at Raph but all he could feel was terror. He needed to get him out of here.

“Sorry, I did but you didn’t answer.” He finished off the rest and licked his fingers. “This is really good, Mikey! What’s in this?”

Mikey inched around him, back to his closet in case anything moved in there. “Just some usual stuff. Garlic salt and all that.” He laughed but it sounded forced. His hand landed on the handle of the pan.

“You usually don’t cook in your room, so I was kind of surprised. You’ve been spending so much time in here, I just wanted to check up on you.”

He internally cursed himself. He should have been more careful. “You know how Donnie gets sometimes when I’m making something new. Complains about the smell. But I’m glad you like it!” He placed the cooling pan into Raph’s giant hands. “Here, why not eat the rest of it?” He pushed the snapping turtle towards the exit.

Giving Raph the rest of it was a risk, it’d be easier for him to figure it out with more, but he couldn’t let him stay here.

“Wow, really? Thanks!” He left docilely, not fighting Mikey shoving him out until they got to the doorway. He then paused, not moving no matter how much Mikey pushed. “But I think you should try cooking in the kitchen. They’re so good even Donnie would like them!”

Michaelangelo, like all his brothers, constantly craved external validation. Though he didn’t scramble for compliments like the rest of them, he would still latch onto a compliment like a life raft. And being told that Donnie, the Extremist of the Picky Eaters Club, would like his cooking was all that Mikey needed to lose all his common sense.

***

“They’re going to find out, you know,” the krang said as Mikey gathered his cooking supplies. Even though it had grown bigger, its voice still had a bit of a pitch, making everything it said sound ridiculous.

“Just like I found you before you could complete your evil plan?”

“You stepped on me by accident,” it growled.

“Accidentally on purpose.” He walked up to the cage, glowering down at the chewed-up wad of bubblegum inside. “Does it infuriate you? Knowing I’m such an ‘inferior’ creature and yet here I am feeding you to my family.”

It slithered closer, almost wrapping its tentacles around the bar before remembering. “Do you really think they’ll still love you if they find out?”

The question startled him. It didn’t sound like a question a krang would ask. They knew nothing of nor did they care about love. So as much as the question disturbed him, he brushed it off.

“It doesn’t matter because they won’t find out.” He shoved the krang back into the closet.

***

Mikey picked something that was familiar but still used what he needed. Pork pies. He’d gotten a few more tentacles, making sure to cut off the squiggly ends so no one could tell them apart from other meat. Dicing them up even more, he started making the dough.

This was something he had missed. Baking. The warmth of the dough in his hands as he kneaded it into shape. The flour under his fingernails. (The delicious torture) Spreading the butter over the pastry to ensure it was as tasty as possible. He just hoped everyone liked it.

He made six miniature pies in a muffin tin. Raph usually ate more than one. The time ticked by slower than usual as he waited for it to bake. Watch pot and all that blah blah blah but he couldn’t help it! Everyone else was in their rooms and he couldn’t stand going back to his room where that thing was. So he sat faithfully by the oven until the full 30 minutes was up.

When he took them out, they looked delicious. The smell wafting over was intoxicating. This may have been his best work yet. He set the table and thought about knocking on everyone's door but then he remembered the group chat.

I made supper everyone!!!

He sent lots of smiling emojis, unable to contain his excitement. Two people read the message. He sat down in his chair at the table, excitedly rocking side to side as he waited for them to come out. Five minutes go by. Then ten minutes. Then half an hour. He checked his phone but there are no new messages. He turned off the screen with a sigh, laying his head on the table.

By the time an hour goes by, he had just about given up when Raph walked in.

“Oh! Hey, Mikey. Raph was going to apologize for being late but er…” Raph looked at the empty table and tried to give Mikey a reassuring smile. “You know how we all just lose track of time sometimes!”

Mikey gave a tired smile back to him, more for his effort than any comfort Raph’s words brought. Raph sits down, excitedly scarfing down his pork pie.

“This tastes amazing!”

His words reignite some excitement into Mikey and he tries some of his own creation. It had cooled off, nowhere near as warm but still tasted good, the spice mixing well with the meat. A bit too sweet, still. Something he would need to adjust for next time. While he ate, Donnie stepped out, squinting at the lights.

“Hello, gentleman. What’s for dindin tonight?”

“I made pork pies!” He said, lifting the plate of his half-eaten food.

“Oh.” Donnie’s face soured. “I am not—”

Raph slammed his fist on the table and gives a “you better not say what you were originally thinking” look. Mikey pretended like he hadn’t seen that.

“I am not a fan of pies.” Donnie continued. “Especially not of the meat kind. I’ll just find something else and then go back to my lab.” He gave a guilty smile.

Mikey’s own face fell, even when Raph offered to eat Donnie’s for him. Although he waited until evening, Leo still never came out of his room. His pie grew cold.

***

Mikey returned to his room, defeated. There was a tangle of emotions in his gut. He shouldn’t get too upset. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t his fault.

It was always his fault.

He grabbed his sketchbook and opened up a blank page. He picked up his pencil, but his hands were shaking so bad it slipped out of his fingers. The pencil fell and bounced on the ground, rolling under a wastebasket full of trash he hasn’t remembered to take out. He took a step forward to grab the pencil but his leg hit his skateboard. Pain radiated from his ankle and he had to suppress a swear. He kicked the skateboard but that just caused more pain and hurt and he’s so freaking stupid.

Over his heavy breathing, he heard something coming from the closet. A laugh. He stormed over and yanked open the doors. Sure enough, the krang was laughing at him. It laughed even harder when it sees his murderous glare.

“You’re just like your brother.” It said with a malicious grin. “I remember when your brother would make the same noises. He’d get so emotional, breathing so fast before he started crying. Ah, I can almost still hear it. Although he begged a lot more. I remember once he even begged me to kill him. What did I show him that time?” The krang paused, putting a tentacle to its chin. “Now I remember. I had just finished ripping off your shell in front of him. Turtles are a lot more fun than regular humans. More of a crunch.”

It laughed hysterically. Mikey wasn’t really in control. His hands just moved automatically.

It was such a satisfying crunch.

His nails dug into the squishy, wet flesh of the krang. The main body this time, reaching into a chunk of its face. It didn’t give easily, the spam-like body resisting being separated from itself. The flesh finally gave way with a wet gush, fluids dripping from the wound and strings of tendon still hanging on like the strings he’d peel off from an orange.

The creature screamed but he barely registered it, only taking the horrified expression it slowly morphed into after laughing about torturing his brother. It didn’t taste as sweet as he’d grown used to. This had more of a watered-down taste, so much gushing out that it dribbled down his chin. It was rubbery and difficult to chew but he didn’t stop, only feeling a sense of relief and release when he swallowed. His tongue ran over the sides of his mouth, catching the bitter juice that had been left behind.

“You’re a monster!” It screeched. “The krang is the epitome of perfection! You should be swearing loyalty to us, you inferior life forms. To even think of hurting us is—”

His hands tighten around the cage, his hands stinging a bit from the anti-krang still on the bars. “Shut up before I tear off another chunk of you.”

Epitome of perfection his shell. If the krang were so smart then it wouldn’t have been caught by him. The krang needed a lesson in humility and he was more than happy to be the teacher. He pulled out the kitchen knife.

“How fast can you regenerate?” Light glinted off the cared for blade, making it feel like a shiny new toy.

“No. You can’t keep doing this.” It crawled back as far as it could in the cage.

“How?” He picked up the cage and threw it against the wall, making a thud, rattling the krang inside. “Fast?”

“I can’t keep up with it. You’re taking too much!” It pleaded, sounding very pathetic.

Just what he wanted to hear. He cut off three more. He had a lot of work to do.

[next]

#rottmnt krang #krang pie #save rise of the tmnt #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fic #save rottmnt #rottmnt #krang #rise krang #gee mikey sure did a turnaround into a sadist #I wonder what could have made that change in him

[transingthoseformers]

Oh no, I'm going to make it worse and say Pharma is baby baby in this.

He can't believe it, though, because he knew people have been gunning for Ratchet for a long time, and if the last thing that happened was them fighting and it was Pharma's fault, that would destroy him. Besides, Trepan has become such a rock and mentor to him now. Sometimes he even reminds him of Ratchet.

It can't be Trepan.

(He wouldn't, right?)

Pharma going to the clinic thinking Ratchet's ignoring his calls only to find the clinic burned down and being investigated by Orion Pax, who recognizes him and tells him about Ratchet being found inside.

Pharma is sick with guilt-fear, and Ratchet was the only one he had. Now it's just Trepan. And Orion Pax, who is side eying the mnemosurgeon heavily and has decided he needs to check up on Ratchet's mentee occasionally but has opinions and sometimes less grace and tact than Pharma.

Teenybopper Pharma is going through it.

Oh no

Oh no

Yes

Pharmaaaaa noooooo

I am making the most strangled noises there are, YES

That would destroy him if the last thing Pharma and Ratchet did together in this was fight. So I'm saying that exactly happened. That very exactly happened. There was a fight.

Pharma has such interesting feelings on Trepan now because he trusts Trepan. Yesss. And if Pharma is young, like really fucking young, I can see why the connection wasn't immediately made. ohhh, pharma.

HhHgg YES ON HIM MEETING WITH ORI. Extra points if this isn't the first fight that Pharma and Ratchet have had that lead to Ratchet ignoring his calls, but this time Pharma had this inexplicable sick feeling about it. Yes.

Primus, what would Orion think about Ratchet's death? I believe they were rather close.

Trepan is all Pharma has left, right? Right?

Orion is suspicious as fuck, extra points if he's heard rumors about Trepan. If he's caught Trepan's vibes. He may not know Pan well, but he's got a feeling that isn't very nice.

Yess on Orion checking up with our distraught youngling here, I can see them developing an interesting dynamic possibly possibly possibly

#maccadam #transformers #mtmte trepan #mtmte pharma #idw orion pax #mtmte ratchet #oh ratchet #oh pharma #//oh pharma// #Of Two Minds au

[lily-in-thevalley]

Worlds Apart

Brian's first concert after losing you, the love of his life, in an accident. (A stand alone one-shot type story, separate from any future posts or stories)

Tw: mentions of death, mentions of self harm, mentions of therapy/anti-depressants

"Hello?" Brian's voice croaked across the reciever, hoarse from having fallen asleep a mere few hours ago.

"Is this Mr. Brian May?" The woman's official tone had him sitting up in bed.

"Um... Yes that's me can I help you?"

"You were listed as the emergency contact for (y/full name)"

***

There was a noticable absence. Like the hole punched in the wall during Brian's last fit it stared at everyone in the room. No giggling while doing eachother's make up. No planning on where to meet after the show. No smiles. Just tense, nervous silence.

Brian sat with his head hanging, the weight of what he was about to do bringing him further down than he thought he could feel. He reached under his sleeve, thinking it was going unnoticed as he scratched at a thin cut that was just now healing over.

"Darling stop" the silence before almost felt better than knowing Freddie knew what Brian was doing. "Can't have you bleeding all over the place on stage" Brian just huffed out what little air his lungs would hold and set to bouncing his leg instead.

He didn't get this way. Brian never had pre show jitters this bad, you were always there to make him laugh and tell him it'll be ok. But this was his first show... Without you. For the first time since he'd started playing on stage he wouldn't have you there. Nothing, not even playing, was a safe place anymore. He'd start playing, remember all the songs he'd written for you, and then shake with each misplaced, half pronounced note till he couldn't see what he was playing anymore.

Brian ducked out of the gentle hand that Roger had put on his shoulder. His voice carried the weight same weight his body showed.

"Please don't touch me right now" that was all it took for Roger to back away, muttering a quiet apology.

"Queen, you're on in ten"

His legs bounced faster, the little scabs on his wrist were ripped off with worrying speed, his eyes darted about the room like every little movement scared him. Brian shot up from his seat.

"I can't do this, I'm sorry I can't-" his lip was starting to turn pink from the abuse he'd been putting it under all month. "I can't play Fred-" a gentle yet firm hand gripped Brian's arm, one that almost sent him back into hysterics. The kind that had them paying for two trashed hotel rooms, unhealthy amounts of alcohol, and now a hole in the wall of a venue they didn't own.

"Darling-"

"No, stop I can't play anymore they're not here!" His eyes flashed with the most intense heat and the deepest pain. Freddie almost stopped breathing for fear of setting him off. It was John that mustered up the courage to speak before anyone else.

"They'd strangle you if you stopped playing" his dead pan tone would have made anyone else mistake it for uncaring and harsh. But they knew what he was trying to do, Roger and Freddie caught on.

"Could you imagine the look on (y/n)'s face?" Roger put on an impression of you "'Brian get your arse out there and play before I do it myself'"

"Guys stop it-"

Freddie jumped in, "'c'mon star boy, you can hear them all begging to see you' can't you hear them saying it?" Brian's breathing got shallow and quick, tears threatening to overwhelm him while he bit down harder on his lip. "And my god the fit they'd have if they saw you biting your lip like that"

"(Y/n) promised not to miss a single show of yours" John got cut off as Brian broke into a sob, his entire frame shaking and sinking back down into his seat. Brian dug his palms into his eyes, paying no mind to any pain that came along.

"Darling... They're not gonna miss this one, c'mon we've got to go out"

"I- I can't play- just makes me think about- I should have-" three hands settled on Brian's shoulders. "... Please don't make me go out without them"

***

He felt it was all only proving his point. Brian *couldn't* play without you. The world was punishing him for even trying. His soul was in tatters, nothing gave him fuel to play. His music didn't have anything to it, just notes while he tried to avoid looking out in the crowd.

Brian's chest constricted while his hands clutched to the 12 string. He could remember you buying it for him and Freddie to share, though he was the only one who played it. Even if it was his, it really wasn't anymore. It was empty. Soulless.

The size of the crowd overwhelmed him for the first time in years, thousands of voices and none of them were yours. He put on a brave face again as he went back on stage. The stool seemed miles away before he could finally give his weak knees a rest.

"Alright" he paused, the sheer mass of his voice making it catch in his throat. "We're gonna play a little song for you guys it's... A lot different than the other songs um-" he looked around at the faces waiting for him to carry on. Thousands and thousands of people and yet he could barely get any words out this time.

"I uh..." He wiped at his cheeks, trying to mask his tears as a bit of sweat. "I'd like to dedicate this song-" he got choked up, his words coming out scratchy and raw "I'd like it to be for my friend" he shoved the mic away before the first real sob came out.

It took everything in his body to keep his fingers moving. With one note he was back at ridge farm with you, strumming lazily in the grass while you curled up beside him. Another note was your first kiss, the cold air on his lips after you'd parted lingering in the present.

"Love of my life, don't leave me"

His breath caught just as it did when he saw you for the first time. He could still feel the way your breath tickled when you kissed his cheek goodbye.

"You've stolen my love, you now desert me"

The tears were flowing freely by now. You had truly, really left him. His love was gone, they'd never come back they were gone.

"Bring it back, bring it back"

Brian's thoughts turned bitter. 'fucking tried to get it back, look where that got me' he thought back to the meds he was supposed to be taking. The ones he decidedly hadn't been taking.

***

"I'm not fucking drugging myself up Fred! They want me to forget (y/n) I'm not doing it!"

"They just want you to take two a day, they won't make you forget they'll just help you less anxious"

"No! Fuck that I'm not taking them!" The bottle of pills smacked against the wall and burst open, scattering them everywhere, where they stayed.

***

"Thank you" Brian hadn't realized they'd finished the song till Fred had his hand on Brian's shoulder.

"You did great darling" Brian just pulled him into a hug and whispered

"I miss them, I miss them so much Fred" the hand on his back helped him get backstage again

"We all do bri, you don't have to hide away all hurt."

Brian pulled him into another hug and let a soft breeze wash over him

"I love you boys" a heartbeat later and the voice was gone, carried away with the wind. But they heard it none the less.

They heard you.

#brian may #brian may x reader #character death #mentions of death #selfharn #hurt/comfort

[kazoosandfannypacks]

"Wishing it Wasn't" by kazoosandfannypacks

Chapter 7/18: Like Everyone Else Has Pairing: CaptainSwan Rating: General Word Count: (1.1K/19.5K) Summary: Season 2 Canon Divergence: When Neal tells Emma he has a fiancée, she claims to have a new boyfriend of her own, and blurts out the first fairytale name she can think of: Captain Hook. Killian agrees to this ruse, but when feelings grow between the two, will the con be more than they can handle? Chapter Summary: Killian and Neal have a hostile heart to heart conversation. Tags: season 2, canon divergence, gun violence in later chapters, angst with a happy ending, fake dating, mild character death, mildly anti neal Author's notes: I hope you guys enjoy the banter in this scene as much as I do! Taglist: @zahara @kmomof4 @jonesfandomfanatic @booksteaandtoomuchtv @jrob64 @tiganasummertree @anmylica @teamhook @undercaffinatednightmare @gingerchangeling @lonelyspectator @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @cs-rylie @pirateprincessofpizza [if you'd like to be added to or removed from this list, hmu in my dms or askbox!]

Also on Ao3!

Killian smiled at Neal, who glared across the table at him while the girls were in the bathroom.

 "Something wrong, Neal?" Killian asked. "Or would you rather I call you Baelfire?"

 "Neal's fine."

 "What's wrong?" Killian asked. "Oh, is this about me selling you out to Peter Pan?"

 "I got over that." Neal said. "It's what you did before that."

 "The part where I rescued your mother from a loveless marriage?" Killian took a calculated sip of the drink in front of him.

 "The part where you tore apart my family."

 "That's not how I remember it." Killian said, setting down his glass. "I remember her coming to me, begging to be rescued from being 'lashed to the village coward.' And I remember telling your father if she wanted her back, all he had to do was fight for her- and I might've let him win too- but to leave a treasure like her with someone who didn't care enough to fight for her?" He leaned forward. "That would've made me the villain."

 "You ruined my life."

 "Your parents were a sinking ship from the beginning." Killian said. "I just sped it along."

 "You don't even care what you did to me, do you?"

 If not for Baelfire, Killian would've called himself the hero of that narrative. But every time he thought back to the poor little boy who he saw in the tavern all those years ago, he saw the eyes of a would be Lost Boy- and those same eyes across the table from him now.

 "Of course I do, Bae."

 "Neal."

 Killian nodded. "Of course I care, Neal. Your mother and I wanted to come back for you when you were old enough. Do you know what her last words were before your father ground her heart into dust, right in front of me?"

 "No."

 "She said she was sorry. She said not a day went by that she didn't regret what she did to you."

 "Liar." Neal said. "My mother didn't care about me. She only cared about herself."

 "How dare he say such a thing!" Killian thought, about to strangle the insolent brigand sitting across from him, "Milah cared about him, about my crew, about me- Milah cared more than anyone else ever could."

 "Watch your tongue, lad." Killian said. "I've killed men for saying things half as heartless about her as you just did."

 "It's a wonder what Emma even sees in you." Neal muttered as he took a sip of his drink.

 "Funny." Killian said, ignoring his own certainty that Emma saw nothing in him. "I was about to ask the same question. What could Emma have possibly seen in a stubborn jerk like you?"

 "I'm a stubborn jerk?" Neal asked. "You literally just threatened to kill me."

 "Yes, for being a stubborn jerk." Killian said. "And at least I fight for those I love. How did your story with Emma end exactly?"

 Neal avoided eye contact. "I gave her up. Tried to give her her best chance."

 "You abandoned her like everyone else has. When things got hard- you left her." It was Killian's turn again to take a smug sip of his own drink. "The crocodile doesn't fall far from the tree."

 Before the fight could get too heated, Emma and Tamara came back, and Killian and Neal smiled like they hadn't both been about to commit a murder.

 For some reason, just seeing Emma calmed him down, reduced his boiling blood to a simmer. He quickly got up from his seat and pulled out her chair for her.

 "Thank you, Killian." She said.

 "Anything for you, love." Killian said. He pushed her chair back in, then sat down next to her and put his arm around her again, finding a soothing comfort in her arm under his hand.

 Emma rested her head on his shoulder, and he smiled, though not at her. No, he smiled at Neal, Swan's ruse having proved Killian the better man between the two.

 But even as he held her, even as he pretended he'd won her heart- even as he pretended he was only pretending to like her- he had to remind himself it was fake, that Swan didn't really consider him the better man.

 To be honest, he wasn't sure she thought much of him at all.

---

 When they'd finished eating and the waitress brought the checks, Killian volunteered to cover them all.

 "You don't have to do that." Neal said.

 "Nonsense." Killian said. "I've recently had a successful business venture, and see no reason not to share its spoils with such pleasant company."

 Emma and Neal made eye contact- they both knew the 'business venture' he spoke of was probably illegal.

 "Are you sure?" Tamara asked.

 "I insist." Killian said. He took the tab to the other counter to pay for it away from the others- Emma knew this was so no one would see him paying in gold doubloons.

 "He's quite the charmer." Tamara said. "Where did you guys say you met?"

 "I did some traveling recently." Emma pulled whatever pieces of their history together she believably could. "My mom and I went to go visit… Germany. Where she grew up. Killian travels a lot for work, and we stumbled into each other- one of those lucky accidental meetings- but when he realized I was new to the area, he showed us around and bought us drinks. We really hit it off, exchanged numbers, and about a week later he came to Storybrooke to be with me."

 "How sweet." Tamara said.

 "He really is." Emma turned to see him walking back over and smiled at him- smiled an almost real smile.

 "Well then, love." He put his hands on her shoulders. "Should we be off, then?"

 "Oh yeah." Emma said. "Henry's probably waiting up for me."

 "Wouldn't want to leave the boy too long, would we?" Killian asked, and Neal looked away.

 "Oh yeah," Emma smiled, understanding Killian's angle, "ten years was more than enough time."

 "Neal should know all about that " Emma thought, watching Neal squirm in his seat, wanting to shrink lower than the table.

 "It was lovely getting to know you better." Emma held a hand out to Tamara.

 "Absolutely." Tamara said. "Maybe we can do this again sometime."

 "For sure."

 She shook hands with Neal as Killian shook hands with Tamara, then watched a tense glare between the boys as they shook hands.

 Then, Killian took his jacket off the back of his chair and placed it over Emma's shoulders.

 "Thanks, babe." She said, pulling the jacket closer around her.

 He kissed the top of her head. "You're welcome, love."

 He wrapped his left arm around her and they left the restaurant together.

#once upon a time fanficton #cs fanfic #captain swan #killian jones #emma swan #once upon a time #ouat #season 2 #canon divergence #kazzy writes

[butterfliesandblueeyes]

24 HOURS

📰 24 hours post 'Destined'

pairings : Bucky Barnes x reader

w/c : 670

warnings : mentions of shocking

a/n : As always, I hope you enjoy reading and thank you for the support!

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Your eyes fluttered open as the sunlight peeked through the blinds. Your fingers glide along the soft sheets of the unfamiliar bed. A bang of a pan makes you sit up abruptly, your eyes scanning the room. You find your ruined clothes piled on the floor. You look down at your body to find someone's black shirt covering your body. 

You sigh, peeling the blankets from your body and standing on shaky legs. A dull ache still resided between your legs. 

Your reflection caught your eye in the mirror hanging from the wall. Turning your body to face it, you took in your appearance. Your hair was a mess, red purplish marks covered your neck. A small necklace sat around your neck. 

Your fingers brushed along it, it didn't belong to you. You tried to pull it off but it didn't budge. It was secured tightly around your neck but not tight enough to strangle you. 

Noise from the kitchen pulled you out of your daze. Must be Bucky you thought. You slowly opened the bedroom door, worried it would squeak and reveal that you're awake. 

Stepping out into the hallway, you tiptoed towards the entryway of the kitchen. You peaked around the wall to find Bucky shirtless and his back towards you. He was standing in front of the stove, stirring something that was cooking on the stove.

Your eyes found the front door and your mind was already made up. You would try to escape. Slowly creeping towards the door, you kept your eyes on Bucky, afraid of him turning around and spotting you. 

When your back was towards the door you took a deep breath in and counted to 3. Opening the door would make a lot of sound so you only have a few seconds to open it and run outside. 

You turned around, gripping the door handle and flinging it open. One foot was outside when a painful shock travelled through your body and you were flung backwards. You landed on the ground with a hard thud. Your hands held your throat where the necklace, which you just found out was a shock collar, was. 

Bucky stood over you, his hands on his hips and a disapproving look on his face. He tsked at you before kneeling down beside your head. "Steve told me to put it on you. I really didn't think you would try to leave after our night together but here you are." 

You coughed. "I'll do anything to get away from you."

Bucky stared at you before standing up and walking towards the kitchen. "Lunch is ready." He threw over his shoulder. 

You stood up and stumbled towards the dining table. Bucky pulled a chair out for you and you reluctantly sat. After placing a plate of pasta in front of you, he sat himself opposite you. 

"It's good, doll. You should try some. You need to keep your appetite up." Bucky broke the silence after a while when he realised you weren't eating but instead glaring at him.

You pushed your plate towards him then folded your arms over your chest. "So stubborn," Bucky breathed. 

"The police will find me here and I'll tell them what you and Steve did to me then you'll be put in jail." You spoke. 

"Jail?" Bucky laughed. "Aren't you the one on the run?"

"That's none of your business." You quickly replied, not wanting to go into further detail as to why you were. 

"Well it kind of is my business if we're going to get married and have kids."

You gave him a shocked look in which he returned with a charming smile. 

 "Whatever you have planned for me, whatever you're going to do with me," you began. "I'll fight you every step of the way. I won't submit to you, ever." You promised Bucky. You stood up from the table, the chair legs scraping along the floorboards. The bedroom door slammed shut, causing Bucky to blink in reaction.

"We'll see doll, we'll see."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

[pepperycar]

“Nightmares and cuddles” part 4

Mario jolted awake to find the sound was actually his bedroom door knocking he gasped and clutched his chest trying desperately to calm down “Mario honey, you awake?” His Mom called through the door “I-uh yeah!” He quickly replied ‘how did she know I fell asleep? “I put some leftovers for you and Luigi on the side to take home okay?” “Uh yeah okay!..” Mario quickly got up and picked up the bags of leftovers before kissing his Mom on the cheek and heading for the door. “Hey what’s the rush?” Asked Arthur “Oh! Late for a date with the Princess?” He smiled raising his eyebrows “oh quiet!” Mario hissed “I’m sorry but I gotta go, I’m late!” And with that Mario was out the door, down the stairs and into the streets. The sun was setting, ‘how long have I been asleep? I got into bed about 4..’ he checked his phone ‘6 PM?!’ He ran down the street, He went to lift the manhole cover then stopped, this is were he held Luigi dying in his dream, his breath hitched and he hurried to climb down “Luigi..” he breathed~~~~~Mario lept out of the warp pipe and bolted for the house, only hearing the blood rushing through his ears, he got to the house and quietly but quickly opened the door, Luigi wasn’t there. Mario thought he’d pass out before remembering Luigi likes to spend the evening tending to their garden, Mario took a breath and walked outside. Relief hit him like a truck when he saw Luigi sitting at the outdoor table with two cups of tea, a red cup with the letter “M” and a green one with the letter “L” on them “Hey!” Luigi smiled, putting his cup down and getting up, slowly approaching Mario “you don’t have to come with me to the Darklands if you don’t want to. Toad offered to go with me tomorrow, with his frying pan I’m more worried for the Dry Bones and Swoops than-“ Luigi was cut off as Mario embraced him in a hug, squeezing him tightly, Luigi held his hands up like he’d been caught stealing before finally letting them drop onto Mario’s shoulders “uh- hi?” Mario snuggled into Luigi’s chest immediately feeling relieved when he heard his heartbeat again, it was slightly fast but then again, he had just jumpscared him with a tackling hug. He then realised what he was doing and quickly pulled away “S-sorry I- uh.. missed you?” He nervously chuckled, Luigi’s face softened “Mario... what’s wrong? Really?” He asked cupping his cheek, Mario instantly relaxed, feeling the warmth of Luigi’s hand, he looked into his eyes that, weren’t dull and gray, but blue and bright, filled with life, “I- can we go inside?” Mario pleaded “of course!” Luigi said with a sad but reassuring smile.~~~~~In the house, Luigi brought Mario over to his bed and sat down with him “now.. what’s wrong?” Luigi whispered putting his hand on Mario’s shoulder “I- I just... last night..” Mario started “I had a nightmare that you- that I.. didn’t save you from the lava.. and when I got to the apartment I.. I dreamt that.. Bowser had killed you in Brooklyn..” Luigi stared for a second “aww bro..” Luigi cooed “And-and I-I held you! And you were cold and-and I felt your- your heart stop! It was horrible Luigi!” Mario sobbed “Hey-hey!” Luigi smiled “Mario it’s okay.. I’m here, you did save me!” Mario sucked in a strangled gasp and Luigi, very gently pressed him to his chest “shhhh shhhh.. it’s okay, I’m here, I’m here.. listen.. can you hear him?” Luigi brushed his fingers through Mario’s hair as Mario pressed his ear to Luigi’s chest ‘Ba-bump..’ ‘Ba-bump..’ ‘Ba-bump..’ ‘Ba-bump..’ “see?” Luigi smiled “he’s still-a ticking!” Mario let out a long sigh and finally relaxed “you mean the world to me..” he mumbled “What?” Asked Luigi “you..” Mario confirmed “you said this morning that the tools, the company and me were more important then you! You’re wrong Lu.. everything I did with Peach, DK and Toad, it was all for you.. and you’re basically saying you’re worthless but.. I’d give all the money in all the world.. everything I own, even my own life for you..... you see your own life as worthless but to me... you life is the most priceless and precious thing in the world..-Tobeconti

[ramcharantitties]

Bandook Meri Layla

Chapter 5

Layla tapped her foot on the wooden leg of the chair.

Tak, tak, tak.

It alternated the sound of hands in the clock set upon her piano. Her velvety gloves were dusty, so was her smooth, warm ruby skirt.

Tak, tak tak.

Richard gulped at the sense of eerie silence in the bright blue room. He felt as if she was going to kill him right now. There were a lot of options for her to kill him right now. Stab him with the heels. Strangle by the gloves. Throw the inappropriately large clock on his head. But these were- what she called cheap methods to kill him. She wasn’t a tired wife. The only way to kill him through her ways was to shoot the just reloaded pistol in her hand.

Layla sighed. “He isn’t some super soldier with supernatural powers. Just a guy with trauma. Can we stop obsessing over him already? Just find and kill him”

Richard rubbed his temples. “Layla, I know, but he is smart. Ram broke through our security in the hotel, he saved you, and escaped from this place. Escaped through the 200 people armed. It’s not gonna be easy to just find and kill him”

Layla rocked on her chair, her head titled backwards. "Find me the list of everyone who attended that exhibition."

--------------

The sun was bright and Ram was sweating when he reached the city. Laila's place was far from the city, but not avoidable. He wondered if it would be better to go to his own place or escape somewhere else. Ram has started to understand what Layla thinks. If she really wanted to harm him, his house would have burnt down by now. Ram decided to play a game with Layla, and took the risk. He entered his own home.

Babai sat there, in his chair, his head in his hands. "Babai?" Ram croaked out. The old man's head snapped up, relieved to hear his voice. "Raju!" He exclaimed, rushing to him. "Where have you been?" He asked frantically. Ram sat on his bed, taking a deep breath. "Layla kidnapped me" he muttered. "What?" Babai were confused. "For two days?" He interrogated further. Ram turned to Babai. "Two?" He asked, looking at the calendar. "You've been gone for two days now. I didn't want to make a police report, worrying it might hinder your investigation" babai said.

Ram nodded his head. Layla was easy to be caught in now, as he knew where she was and what her business was. But to think of Layla to be so easy going was not on his list. Besides, she could turn up on his door to finish him and everyone he knew in a moment. Ram breathed, sitting back on his bed. His shoulders hurt, his back aching. Ram needed to take a bath. He sighed, picking his diary, when his stomach grumbled. He got up.

Akhtar knocked on Ram's door when Ram was fast asleep. Even he doesn't remember when he passed out. There was a cooked pan of rice in his kitchen, untouched. Ram forgot to eat. Akhtar slowly opened the door, to find an unconscious Ram on the table. Akhtar's heart was filled with butterflies and joy. His Anna was back. "Bhaiya?" Akhtar cautiously tip-toed in the room, but Ram jolted up from sleep, looking around. "Akhtar" he mumbled, rubbing his dreamy eyes. "How have you been? Babai told me you're back." Akhtar asked, kneeling close to Ram. Ram nodded in return, getting up from his chair. Akhtar stood up too.

"I'm gonna wash my face, can you serve two plates of rice for us?" Akhtar's face lit up. He nodded with a smile and rushed to set two plates up. About ten minutes later, Ram and Akhtar sat down to eat. Akhtar mentioned his curiosity and concern when Ram went missing. Ram nodded, hoping to reply but couldn't. He didn't understand what to do. "Jenny informed me- somehow, that she is meeting a friend tonight. She wants us to come" Akhtar said, stuffing his face. Ram followed, hungry.

"How many friends?"

"one"

"woman?"

"I think"

Ram smirked. Jenny was calling Ram and Akhtar on a double date. They were soon done eating, with Akhtar finishing the left over rice too. Ram surfed through his diary meanwhile. It was stressful how much he wanted to capture Layla back then, but despite that, Ram helped Akhtar get ready for the date.

It was about an hour later, when the sun has started peeking its vibrant orange when Ram hopped off Akhtar's bike. It was a high end, English café in the heart of Delhi. The outsides were decorated in white, green and pink, with young saplings planted by the door. Lanterns were already lit, a hue of brown and golden casting over the walls. Ram could see the big, doe eyes of Akhtar looking for Jenny. He smiled, wondering who Jenny's friend could be. When he stepped on the flight of stairs of the cafe, the same feeling of exhibition filled him in. He felt a presence- someone who shouldn't be there. Ram looked around as both the men made their way in, when Jenny appeared in his view. He smiled, exhaling, only to see a very familiar face sitting near the window.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist- @dumdaradumdaradum @nerdreader @vijayasena @yehsahihai @ramayantika

#ghungru #ram charan #rrr #rrr movie #desi tag #fanfic #ram x reader #ram x wife!reader #rambheem #rrr tarak charan #bml #bandook meri layla

[ouchie-central]

Whump Wheel Drabble #2: Missing

Thank you to @ofinkandstardust for the wheel and the inspiration!

CW: Amputee Character, (Magical Prosthetic) Non-Human Whumpee (Harpy) Cane use, Healing stitches, Cursing, Ignoring the severity of wounds, Loss of family.

Characters: Bixita “Bix” Meliaki, (he/him) Prince Tahir (he/him)

“They’re gone.”

Bix’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as soon as he set foot in his home. His siblings weren’t there, and as he frantically began looking around for any signs of them, it became more and more clear that they hadn’t been here for a long time.

The old silo had been abandoned when Bix found it standing alone at the edge of the city. All the grain long since picked clean by rats, and hardly anything but the roof, the floorboards and the door warranted calling it a home. But his siblings had been born in the nest he’d built into the silo’s catwalk. He’d told them stories of monsters and adventurers around the fire pit he’d dug into the ground. And the shelves lining the wall, built from nothing more than an abandoned cart Bix had run across on the road, still boasted the various knickknacks he’d acquired, found and stolen over the years.

But his siblings were nowhere to be seen. Everything was coated in layers of dust and cobwebs, and it was impossible to tell the last time the fire had been lit. Bix dropped his makeshift cane at the door and hobbled over to the nest on his leg that had barely healed, collapsing into it and sifting through the blankets, as if he’d find the three little harpies wrapped up in them.

But there was nothing.

Tahir, still frozen in the doorway, finally spoke. “Bix, I’m so sorry…”

“Shut up.” Bix snapped. He was clutching a blanket so hard it seemed like he was trying to strangle it. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is my fault.” Bix swiped at the tears that were beginning to prick at the edges of his eyes and threw the blanket down, pushing himself up with great difficulty and dragging himself over to the stairs. Tahir picked up the other’s cane and shut the door behind him, following closely down the stairs.

“Bix, your stitches…”

“I don’t care!” He shouted, whipping around to give Tahir a piece of his mind. But his eyes were filled with tears. “My siblings are gone! I was supposed to protect them, I’m their big brother, and I was stupid enough to get arrested and leave them alone for three years! So my stitches, and my fucked-up leg, and my useless fucking wings don’t fucking matter because they’re probably-“ Bix froze, his eyes widening as the worst-case scenario fully dawned on him. And the grief that had been building up in his chest finally came out in wet, anguished sobs. His bad leg gave out, and with a split second to react, Tahir caught him and lowered him to the ground.

“Get the fuck off me!” Bix cried, pushing against the prince, who let go immediately. Tahir could only watch in sympathetic silence as Bix crumpled in on himself and cried, his sore wings only having enough mobility to partially wrap around himself in an attempt to hide. Eventually, he slowly uncrumpled and began to drag himself down the stairs, one step at a time. When he reached the bottom, he toppled over onto his side, his weak body still wracked with sobs.

The world seemed to stand still for a few moments. Bix’s world had crashed down around him, and Tahir didn’t know how to help. Eventually, the prince stood up and slowly walked down to the bottom floor of the house, setting the cane at the bottom of the steps but staying away from Bix as he’d requested. Instead, he wandered over to the shelves, observing the meager belongings of Bix’s family. An assortment of pots and pans, some folded-up fabric scraps and a basket full of sewing supplies, lots of pretty rocks, and a couple of toys: Some cobbled together, some that had once been nice but were now a bit past their prime. And between them all, there were some empty spaces, spots in the dust.

Some things were missing.

“Bix…?” Tahir asked cautiously from across the room. “What else used to be on this shelf?”

“What the hell are you talking about…?” Bix sniffled, his usual vulgarity having lost it’s edge. The harpy pushed himself off the ground, grabbing his cane and hauling himself to his one working foot to cross the room.

And as soon as his eyes finished scanning the shelves, he gasped.

“Their favorite toys are gone… And their bags, and my good cooking pot-!” Hope began to seep into Bix’s tone as a realization hit him. “They left…”

Tahir looked down at Bix, who was staring at the shelves in disbelief. “Do you know where they might have gone?”

Bix shook his head, trying to dry the tears that just kept coming. “No… But if they left then they’re out there. And I’m gonna find them.”

#whump #winged whumpee #wing whump #amputee whump #tw loss of family #whump writing #whump drabble #whump wheel #this is one of the later points in Bix’s story and the beginning of his recovery #and the first time he’s cried in front of Tahir #Bix will for sure be one of the biggest players on this blog just because he’s so fun to play with ;)