#on the verge of a psychotic break

[cantquitu]

.

#it'll never not be funny to me when those larrie-style louis tomlinson fans who are obsessed with harry #get triggered by the slightest glimpse of him online #and their hatred drives them to the verge of psychotic break #and they roll out their conspiracy theories in all their unhinged glory #and you just know that a bunch of people who follow them for the photos of louis' ass #are like 'wait - what?' #'uh 👀' #'i was just here for the indie cosplay 😬'

[clamperls]

not going to lie. things have been going very not good in my head lately

#op #im on the verge of a complete psychotic break! #ok to rb #if you feel it too

[fictionalcharacterlovetimes]

i know i just came back but i might have to take a mental health break from selfshipping

#vent in tags #basically im like. on the verge of a psychotic episode #and selfshipping is really bad for me when im in those #something something reality issues #the last time i had one of these was actually because of selfshipping... #i'll be fine yall i just #need a lil bit of a break from thinking about fictional men kissing me #personal

[cutelilbow]

😗✌️!

(vent post don’t check the tags 🤪)

#i feel like i am on the verge of a psychotic break NCJFJFHFBFJ #never talk to other people worst mistake of my life #(adorably pulverizes my hands with a large rock)

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Spinoff: Elysian

Pairing: Doctor/Mafia!Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader 

Warnings: Yandere behavior, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: Here we go <3

Masterlist, Part I of __

"Oh my God," someone from his right gasped loudly. "God really has favorites!"

Kim Seokjin blinked owlishly as he patiently waited for the elevator door to open. It was too early in the morning for someone to be this loud, or for someone to have this amount of energy. In fact, he thought it was peculiar. Despite him being the most handsome and perfect man on this whole planet with a godlike body proportion, clear skin, the most expressive eyes, and despite him being the genius that he was, and well, despite him being flawless in everything that he did, he could not for the life of him be that energetic when it was six in the morning. For heaven's sake, he still hadn't gotten his coffee.

Jin simply did not have the energy to deal with this person.

"Good thing you're a doctor!"

Jin took the deepest breath known to man, before breaking his intense and angry eye contact with the elevator. He noted that he would have the whole system replaced by Jungkook's company. The time was just unacceptable, he thought. Besides, he hadn't gotten enough beauty sleep last night because he stayed up late patching up the man Taehyung was torturing and the asshole called him at a godforsaken hour just because he didn't want the fun (also known as Tae’s torture) to end just yet.

What a psycho, he thought.

Well, they all were, he surmised. They just hid the madness in order to blend well with the society. He meant, who would even think that the beloved and heavily awarded actor was a high-functioning psychotic shit? Kim Taehyung was just that- a master manipulator when it came to emotions. They all had their own talents, though.

"I'm sorry?" he asked in the voice he used to communicate with his difficult patients. When he turned, he could have sworn you were really a patient if not for the white robe and identification card that you were wearing. He thought you looked like someone who escaped from the ward with the way your hair was haphazardly and carelessly tied in a bun, the bags under your eyes looked heavy that he almost recoiled. It was as though you and a peaceful night of sleep were strangers

He read your name and the department that you were working in.

Department of Psychiatry.

"How can I help, Doctor Y/N? Do you need medical assistance of any sorts?"

Your smile got even wider, and he was almost certain you were losing it. However, to you, you were just elated to hear your name passed his plump lips. Ah, you thought, you really loved working here. You were on the verge of transferring to the hospital your professor owned in the province. He had been attempting to pry you from this hospital, and you were ready to say yes. In fact, you already filed your resignation.

How could you say no to a seventy-percent increase? To a greener grass? To being able to afford to pay loans your family unfortunately passed onto you and buy your basic necessities?

Well, this face would do it.

"Yes. I feel a shortness of breath and you're to blame. You just took my breath away..." you explained, the smile still present on your face. The elevator dinged open, and you waved at the frozen medical director, the highest position in this hospital, with a glee. You entered the glass box, waiting for him to get in. "The medical director will hear about this!" you playfully scolded him

Alas, it looked like you broke him today.

He was still looking at the spot you had just vacated as though his mind circuited. On the other hand, you were on your way to take back your resignation. You just found your reason to stay. You were waving at the man blushing profusely enthusiastically as the door was closing, and yet he remained there.

Ah, what a good morning indeed, you thought.

Kim Seokjin, on the other hand and for the first time in his whole life, was taken aback by the reckoning force that you were.

That day marked your entrance into his life, whether he wanted you to be in it or not. And well, that day unknowingly sealed your fate. You couldn’t leave his life, whether you wanted to or not.

You became a somehow...permanent fixture in his life.

“Tadaa!”

Kim Seokjin jumped when he heard your voice for the first time today. He didn’t even have to turn to know it was you- you made sure that your voice alone was etched in his genius brain. He was always on guard when you were near, and fuck, even if you weren’t. It was like he had an internal alarm when you were near that kept screaming that there was a foreign substance near him, rendering him a different man. One that was not confident, one that always seemed to blush when you were near and he loathed it!

He was perfect and he was used to being in control with his emotions! What was this atrocity! How was a person such as you managed to disable his flight-or-fight instinct?

Jin blinked owlishly at the steaming cup of coffee you were eagerly presenting to him. It was his from his most favored coffee shop, he noted. It was off the way to the hospital.

And it was still hot.

It was six in the morning.

What time did you wake up for this?

“I know you must be tired from that six-hour surgery,” you noted lightly, smiling up at him. He looked good in scrubs and you couldn’t help the heat rushing through your cheeks when he met your eyes. “I thought you needed coffee. I asked your staff and they said this is your favorite.”

See, every time you talked, his brain just circuited and he didn’t know why. Although he possessed extraordinary genius, he still couldn’t find the reason why. He was not a bubbling mess. No! He was the image of perfection!

“I don’t…drink coffee.”

Idiot, he thought. Why did he say that?! You saw him several times with a coffee in his hand. Your elated expression fell immediately, the glint in your eyes fading. He was beating himself inside when the door opened behind him, his colleague, Doctor Seong-Min walking out and he immediately saw you.

“Oh! My favorite doctor!” he greeted you as almost everyone in the hospital knew of you because of your extrovert personality and high energy.

“Good morning, Doctor Seong-Min,” you greeted politely, though the tone of your voice was definitely knocked down. “You were in the surgery with Doctor Jin, right?”

He nodded before slapping Jin’s back once, “This man right here saved the patient twice. He definitely didn’t give up on-“

“Do you like coffee?” you cut him off, your exhaustion from your shift plus the trip you took to buy him coffee was now taking a toll on you and you wanted nothing but to sleep on your own bed.

“Yes?”

“For you! Have a good day, doctors!” you waved at them before walking away. Ahh, your mind was filled with thoughts of food and sleep. Finally, your day off!

Kim Seokjin’s mind, on the other hand, was filled with panic that he hurt your feelings and also anger to the doctor that was now about to sip the coffee.

“Give me that!” he hissed, pulling the coffee away from the equally exhausted colleague of his.

“What?! No! I need coffee!”

“This is mine!”

“She gave this to me-“

“No. Mine,” he announced as he successfully wrestled the coffee away from the confused doctor. “Okay, goodbye.”

#yandere bts #bts yandere #bts fic #kim seokjin fic #kim seokjin x you #kim seokjin yandere #yandere kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x y/n #bts mafia

[mariefilms]

╰───► MORAL CONSCIENCE- e. williams smau.

「cuatro」 ⇢ hasta cuando

Pairing — streamer! ellie x youtuber!black fem!reader x rockstar! dina

warnings — sex tapes, strap on sex, weed, strap sucking, idk what worse i think that’s it

a/n i wasn’t gonna write smut but well…..( btw, this is 3 months after chp 3 🧘🏾) this is also not proofread so.. ntm !!

chapter 3 ⇢ chapter 5

ellie had made it to your apartment not long after you blocked dina on everything. you were sick of her back and forth shit. you couldn’t understand how she would just play with your emotions and think it’s a game w/ no consequences.

deciding not to tell ellie anything that just transpired you put on a face of faux happiness.

“hi baby” ellie greeted you with a bone crushing hug and you fell right into it. “i missed you” was whispered on your lips softly as she gave you multiple chaste kisses making you giggle. “it’s barely been two days, girl pleaseee” she rolls her eyes at your teasing and moves to sit on the couch and pull out some pre-rolls that she got off of jesse and lighting one before offering you the first hit. you took it before passing it back to ellie.

“ellie. we should bake a cake high.” you looked over at her and had a wild smile plastered across your face. she looked up at you from her slouched position on the couch questioningly. “why do you look on the verge of a psychotic break!?” she giggled at your immediate pout in response to her teasing. “stop ittttt, i’m serious! it would be so fun, i might even record it since i need new content anyway” you looked over at ellie to see if she would agree to find her staring at you with something shining in her eyes. you rose your eyebrow in question and she shook her head with a chuckle. “fine, i’ll do it !” sighing she got up and gathered all the stuff needed to get you high out of your minds.

you squealed in happiness as she agreed and ran to the kitchen to get everything in place, luckily your camera and lighting was already set up. (you may have planned to persuade her into saying yes but she doesn’t need to know that !!) .

“ellie come on ! i’ve got everything ready!” you yelled out while digging in your cupboards for cake mix and anything else you might need. “i’m literally right here” she said as she slinked up behind you and wrapped her arms around your waist.

“you know you can’t be like this on camera right?” you turned around in her arms with the ingredients in your hands to find her smirking down at you before bending down and pecking you on the lips while grabbing the stuff in your hands and putting it on the table.

“ok let’s start, ready” she arranged the ingredients on th table that looked good on camera as you turned the camera on and started recording.

“hi, youtube! i know ive been MIA for like……. months, but i’m back! and i have a special guest !” you turned to look at ellie who was apparently already lighting a blunt! “psst.. ellie” you smacked her arm and pointed to the camera when she acknowledged you (finally). “ hm? oh. sup, i’m ellie” she shrugged and went back to what she was doing before you had interrupted her. “well then! i’ll just introduce her since she wants to be aggy!” you heard her scoff behind you at your comment but chose to ignore it in favor of telling the people who she was and what y’all were doing for todays video.

“and that’s basically it! so me and ellie are gonna go get… como se dice… smacked and then we’ll be back!”

you didn’t come back. in fact you never even got to start on baking the cake. as soon as the high hit you and ellie she brought up this crazy idea of making a sextape. super risky, i know. but the way she said it made you feel a certain heat start forming in your lower region. the hand rubbing up and down your inner thighs certainly didn’t help with clearing your mind at all. all you could think about was ellie and she made sure you stayed like that.

next thing you knew you were in your bedroom, naked, sweaty and a flash blinding you as ellie put the camera in your face while you were sucking her strap down your throat to get it, in her words, nice and wet so she could fuck you into the bed. just thinking about what was to come made you get all hot and bothered and you were sure the camera was picking up on all your blissed out expressions.

“fuck that’s it baby”

“takin’ me so well ma’”

“deeper.. i know you can do it baby.”

fuck. you were in heaven. ellie was on a different type of timing that day and you couldn’t get enough of it. you dragged one of your hands down from ellie’s thigh and started making little circles on your clit giving it some much needed stimulation. “i think you’re ready baby. you’ve been so good f’me” ellie bit her lip and brung the phone closer to where your lips connected to the base of the strap watching it disappear in your mouth and reappear. “fuck, you’re so sexy baby”

ellie pulled you off by your hair and dragged you up into a bruising kiss. it was sloppy and wet with spit all over each others mouths and tongues exploring. “c‘mon ellie, i’m ready! you said it yourself” you mumbled in between kisses as best as you can when you felt her reach down and spread your lips, dragging a finger in your slit letting it slightly tease your hole and gather your slick. she removed her hand making you whimper in frustration until you saw her put the same finger in her mouth and sucks. “shit y/n you taste so good” she groaned around her finger making your clit twitch as a wave of strong arousal passed through you at such a pornographic display.

“if you don’t fuck me right now ellie.”

“yes ma’am” she chuckled and took the base of her strap to line it up with your sopping wet pussy. when she slid in to the hilt your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you moaned wantonly. “fuckkk ellie” you dragged your hips up and down on her dick setting a steady, punishing and mind-numbing pace. it was so good and you were hitting ellie’s clit just right with every bounce. ellie leaned up and planted her feet on the bed to fuck up into you causing you to scream at the intensity of the sensation. “ look at the camera f’me baby. you look so good crying on my dick” you moaned pathetically and opened your eyes to look into the camera.

tags </3 @brackishkittie @robinismywifee @aouiaa @elliesbitchvenus @vnus-starr

#ellie williams #mariefilms #ellie x fem reader #the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x black!reader #the last of us ellie #tlou2 #ellie williams x female reader #moral conscience smau #ellie smau #dina smau #gamer!ellie #streamer!ellie #rockstar!dina #dina x reader #dina nolastname #dina x fem reader #dina woodward

[athenamikaelson]

War of Scars - A Luke Castellan Story

PART 1

Thunder Daddy is Real?

Word Count- 3.7k

Warnings- Swearing, blood, gore, fighting, some mature content 

“What the actual fuck is a half-blood?” 

I scream to Keiko as she grips the steering wheel of the stolen Passat we were now flooring down the vacant back road of New York. Keiko’s short, white-bleached hair stuck up as if she’d just been electrocuted, and a look of concern in her dark eyes as she glanced between both front-view mirrors. I tried to figure out what she was so worried about as I glanced through my passenger seat mirror but was only met with the darkening road. The red cast from the taillights shone a light on the passing forest and trees. The branches from the trees cast shadows over the backroad, a small shiver goes through my back as I imagine that they look like limbs and arms reaching for our car as we drive away. As if begging us not to drive any further. I want to yell to them that I don’t want to go any further either, that I want to go back home. Home to my mother and father, a mother and father that no longer want me I remind myself, and home to my brothers who probably don’t even know I’ve left. 

“A half-blood is what you are Y/N.” 

Keiko’s words snap my attention back into the car as I turn to her with an annoyed look. I can feel the tips of my nails scratching against the skin of my palms, reading to break the already calloused skin. A nasty habit I picked up a few years ago.

“Ya, that’s what everyone keeps telling me! But that doesn’t answer what the fuck it is!” I can feel the breaking of skin as I dig my nails deeper, trying to ground my feelings and stop another outburst from happening. 

“Do you remember all those stories I used to tell you about the Greek Gods and myths?”

Keiko’s eyes briefly meet mine for the first time since I watched her steal this car over 3 hours ago. I think over what she said. The stories about the woman who the goddess Athena turned into a snake lady, and the man who stole fire from the Gods just to give to humans come to mind. I slowly nod my head at her, hoping that this isn’t some psychotic break she’s having because I’m on the verge of having my own right now and this car is already tiny as fuck. Two people freaking the fuck out would not be a good idea. 

I watch as Keiko’s chest rises and falls deeply, her ACDC shirt that she had stolen from a lost and found at school stretches at the movement. 

“All those stories I told you, about the Gods, Zeus, Posideon, Hades, and all the others,” She turns back to look at me, “they’re all true. And one of them is your biological parent,” Her face scrunches up as she goes back to look at the road, “well technically not biological per se since gods don’t have DNA.” 

She goes to continue speaking but stops once I let out a laugh that comes deep from the back of my throat. I watch with scrunched eyes as she stares at me in slight worry I hunch over gripping my stomach as more laughter rises out of my mouth.

“Are you ok?”

Keiko’s worried voice comes from beside me and I sit up and wipe stray tears from my eyes. 

“Am I alright? I should be the one asking you that question, you’re the one saying that the almighty thunder daddy Zeus is real, and then saying that one of his buddies is my parent.”

Keiko’s face scrunches up in disgust and she casts a glance to the star-covered sky for some reason.

“You really shouldn’t talk like that, the Gods don’t like to be disrespected.”

Her worried expression halts my jokes as I stare at the now serious face in front of mine. Keiko has never been the one in this friendship to care about following the rules or being scared of anything, she’s the fearless one. So why the hell does she look terrified at the talk of a bunch of fictional deities?

“Ok, Kio the joke was funny for the first five minutes but I want the truth now. Why did my parents kick me out after saying I’m not theirs and that you’d know what to do?” 

I try to cover up the slight break in my voice at the mention of my parents, or adopted parents I guess, telling me that after 18 years I wasn’t theirs. Flashes of my caring mother holding me when I was a child telling me that I was a gift to her, that she would never let anything happen to me. Was all of that some sick lie?

“Y/N listen to me,” Keiko catches my attention, “I’m not lying to you. Your mother or father is a god. A Greek god. Which makes you a half-blood, half mortal half god. And because of this, it means being out here in the mortal world is going to get you killed. I was sent here, as your satyr to protect you until the time came where I’d take you to camp. I’m not sure why it’s taken this long for the monsters to catch up to you, most of the time half-bloods are brought to camp around 12. But you being 18 brings up some questions. I think your parent is a smaller god that’s why there hasn't been much focus on you.” 

I can feel my mouth start to dry up from the air entering my now-opened mouth. I’ve been staring at Keiko with wide eyes the entire time she's been going on about gods and death and shit. She must have noticed my lack of response because she stopped talking and looked at me. Her serious expression brings a wave of anger through my system which is the final breaking point for the palms as my nails break skin and a warm liquid coats my nails. 

“Stop the car.” 

Three words are all I say to her as I unbuckle my seat belt.

“What?”

I turn to Keiko, my teeth grinding against one another.

“Stop the goddamn car. I’m done being lied to. My parents have lied to me my entire life and now my so-called best friend is making fun of my shitty life with made-up fairytales. So stop the fucking car or I’ll jump out myself.” 

“I’m not stopping, we can’t if we want to make it to camp as soon as possible. And we’re going,” Keiko glances at the speedometer, “64 miles per hour. If you jump out of the car now you’ll die.” 

I look out of the forest and think of all that has happened in the past 12 hours. 

“It’s not like I have anything to lose. I’d rather be mangled and dead than sit in this car with you, driving to god knows where, while you tell me a bunch of lies.”

I hear a deep sigh come from Keiko and wait a moment to hear whatever bullshit she’s about to start spewing at me but it never comes. Instead, I feel the car start to accelerate, and a few words in an unknown language spill from her mouth. 

“Put your seatbelt on.” 

Keiko’s voice comes out harsh and deadly as I watch her grip the worn steering wheel. Her frantic gaze moves from the back of us to the dark road ahead. 

“I’m not putting my seatbelt on, just stop the car already.” 

I try to argue back at her but she just lets out a huff of air and reaches over the center console of the car, grabs my seatbelt, and snaps it back into place. I watch her with wide eyes at the fucking audacity of the bitch. I go to yell at her but she raises a single finger at me, just like a mother who’s had enough of her child talking would. 

“We’re being followed.”

Her dark eyes move frantically all over the place as if she sees something I don’t. Ok, maybe she is losing her mind. Fuck now I feel like an asshole. 

“Listen Keiko maybe we should just take some deep breaths and talk this through. Cause it seems like right now some of us are going a bit crazy. And by some of us, I don’t mean me.”

I lightly raise a finger and point at her. I go to laugh at my joke but the car jolts forward as if we’d just got rear-ended.

“What the-”

“It’s right there shit!” 

Keiko slams her leg onto the gas pedal but it doesn’t seem to do much help as another hit comes from behind us. My long legs bang against the dash of the car as I look behind us trying to figure out what asshat doesn’t know how to drive, but I freeze when I see nothing there. No headlights, no cars, nothing. We’re the only ones on the road. 

“There you see it! You see I’m not lying! I can’t tell what creature it is but it’s big and has wings so that crosses out giants, thankfully.” 

Kieko glances between the front and me and her face falls once she reads my features.

“What?”

“What do you mean what? There is nothing there.”

I turn to the back of the car and point to the vacant road behind us. Keiko turns around and her eyebrows raise.

“No, it was right there.” 

But as she turns back around to face the front, I jump from the loud yelp that escapes her lips as she appears to see something before us on the road. Something I can’t seem to see. What I don’t see coming either is the tight right turn Keiko makes to miss the invisible “creature.” I grasped onto the passenger side door and turned wide-eyed to her. About to yell at her when the driver’s side of the car is lifted and I feel my heart fall to my ass as I watch the trees that were once reaching and calling for me, get their wish as the car is thrown into the woods. 

“Y/N, come wake up, Y/N!” 

I hear muffled voices come from above me as cold winds envelop me. I must be in heaven, God must be calling for me. I try to open my eyes but the overwhelming pressure in my head urges me to keep them closed for just five more minutes. I’m about to give in to the thought when a sharp pressure hits the side of my cheek, shocking me awake.

I abruptly sit up but quickly regret it when a pounding pain comes from every part of my body. My eyes can’t seem to register my dark surroundings either as more pain enters my frontal lobe. 

“I’m sorry I did that but I need you to get up, I don’t know where the chimera is, but I can feel it’s close.” 

Kieko, that’s Kieko. My brain tries to get me to register her words but the throbbing in my head is halting any thought process from going on. Another wave of red pain goes through my body as I feel an arm wrap itself around my waist and lift me.

“Do you think you can walk?”

A voice asks me. No, not a voice, Kieko’s voice. Kieko is talking to me. I try to shake my head as if to fight away the overwhelming urge to close my eyes and lay down and sleep for the foreseen future. 

“Get up and walk”. 

A voice comes into my head. Why does my subconscious sound so manly and bossy? But I listen to it as I feel my feet try to move one after the other. The overwhelming pressure coming from my entire body though makes it feel as if I’m dragging two cinderblocks on each leg. 

“OK, good. We’re about a mile from camp I think if I got my constellations correct.” 

I finally can get my eyes open as I stare at Kieko beside me. If I wasn’t feeling like absolute dogshit right now I’d laugh at the image of her short body leaning awkwardly to the side trying to carry my taller one. I try to lean off of her slightly to give her help but her grip tightens on me.

“Don’t, you got banged up pretty hard in the accident. I thought I had lost you for a moment there, but it was my mistake for thinking you’d ever let death take you this young or without your approval.”

Kieko lets out a small laugh which quickly turns into a cough as she winces in pain.

“Are you hurt?”

My voice comes out strained and rough, like an old woman who’s been smoking since she was 13 years old. Kieko just shakes her head and picks up the pace of her walking. 

“Just a few scratches, nothing as bad as you. We need to move faster though I can sense the chimera getting closer. The smell of your blood is making it easier for it to track us.”

My face scrunches up at the words. I want to argue to her that there’s no creature out there hunting us and that she is just having a psychotic break but once I feel the cold metallic-smelling liquid move down my face as if it was caressing it, I stay quiet. 

We continue to walk for what seems like hours, or well Kieko walks and I latch on to her and get dragged. I don’t know where the hell she’s going but I have no other choice but to go with her. I lurch forward as Kieko abruptly stops. Her heading whipped around us like a mad woman. 

“Did you hear that?” 

She whispers into my ear. I shake my head in response. And we stand there for a moment before she tightens her hold on me and starts to walk again. Her hand around my waist quickly detaches and I can only watch in what seems like slow motion as she is thrown against a neighboring tree. A sickening crack comes from her body as I watch it fall to the ground. I go to run to her a roar turns my attention to behind me. I can feel my heart beat erratically as I slowly turn to the monstrous being behind me. With a body that must stand above 10 feet tall, a lion stands before me. Wait. No. Not a lion. Defiantly not a lion. 

Acidic bile starts to make its way up my throat as my eyes meet the red beady eyes of a goat, a goat that is protruding from the lion's back. A hissing sound catches my attention as I slowly turn my gaze to the python that has replaced the lion goat’s tail. 

As I stare at the creature I want to pass out. Or maybe I’m already asleep and this is some bad nightmare. But as the lion-goat-snake thing takes a step toward me, with its paws that rival the size of my big head I use whatever strength I have left and run. If I can lead it away from Kieko that's all that matters. 

I don’t have to worry about it not following me as I hear the thundering footsteps catch up behind me. I try to dodge tree after tree, jumping over fallen logs, and feel my sneakers imprint into the mud that has started to form from the light downfall of rain that has started to coat myself and the forest. 

I go to turn right, the downpour of the rain falling harder and blocking much of my already shitty vision. But a burst of heat and flames come from behind me hitting the trees to my right. I whip my head around to see smoke coming from the lion-goat-snake thing and curse to myself. Of course, it can breathe fire too. I try to go to my left but a searing pain catches on my back as I drop to the ground. 

I lift myself on my elbows as I watch the monster lift its large paw and lick the red liquid off of its nails as if it were mocking me. Its eyes glint with malice as the goat lets out a strangled noise.

“We’re a gift from Athena.”

A strangled hiss comes from the snake's mouth.

 I go to close my eyes and just accept my fate but stop when my manly subconscious chimes in again. 

“Get up and fight, you’re a warrior. Grab the stick next to you and fight back. Make it bleed. If it can bleed it can be killed.” 

God, when did I become so melodramatic? But I realize manly me is right, if I die this thing will go back for Keiko. The monster continues its prowl toward me as I keep eye contact with it. Hoping it doesn’t see my right hand that has grasped onto the stick by my side. I wait until the lion opens its mouth, probably to light me on fucking fire and that’s when I strike. 

I lift myself onto my knees and lurch forward with the stick in my hand and as the lion opens its ginormous mouth and I see the start of embers begin to light in its throat I stab the stick right down into it. I loud howl of pain comes from the creature as it tries to dislodge the stick that is now protruding from its mouth. I watch for another moment as the goat and the snake move around frantically trying to help their injured creature. But I know if they do succeed in getting that out I’m fucked so I push myself up with a hiss. The overwhelming smell of blood coming from my back, the more I move the harsher the pull and pain. But I'm not letting the ugly motherfucker be my demise. 

I come up from behind the creature, which is now facing away from me with its entire focus on dislodging the stick, and I leap onto its back. The goat and the snake are the only ones to notice my arrival as they start hissing and making whatever strange noise the goat is making. I grab onto the fur of the creature to keep myself upright and I grasp the snake into my hands. It thrashes in my hands, its cool slimy body almost making me drop it as I try to wrap the snake around the goat's throat. I pull in the opposite direction with all my weight as the hissing constricts until I hear the crack of the goat's neck. The strangled snake and the now dead goat have caught the attention of the lion who has finally dislodged the stick and has now noticed me.

The lion roars so deeply that it makes my body shake. I would almost feel bad for killing its friends/body sharers if it wasn’t trying to y’know fucking kill me. The lion stands to its full height and starts to thrash its body as a means to get me off. I quickly grasp the curled horns of the goat as a means of stabilization. But as the thrashing gets harsher I hear a sharp snap as I’m thrown against yet another tree. 

Bark scratches up my already bloody back as I let out a loud wail. The rain from before crashing down all around me thunder shakes the earth and forest and lightning strikes a nearby tree. But my attention is fully on the lion who has now started its attack on me. I can sit there as I lift my hands to protect my face as the lion comes rushing at me. 

I sit there drenched, cold, and bloody waiting for my demise, but nothing comes. I slowly open one eye and flinch as I see the lion staring at me. But it’s not moving. It’s not breathing either. Its once hatred-filled eyes are now glossed over with death. My gaze goes from its haunting eyes to its chest where the goat horn I had cracked off is now lodged into the lion's heart. Red liquid coated my hands as I loosened my grip on the horn and backed away from the dead creature. 

“How did you do that?” 

I thrash my head to the side grabbing the horn a second time in defense. I halt though when I see Keiko holding herself up against a tree. Blood trickles down her whitening skin as she looks at the monster in awe and slight disgust. She pushes off the tree and starts to walk to me but her knees lock up and she falls to the ground. I push myself back up quickly and crawl to her. 

“Are you ok?”

I quickly ask her, wiping away the blood that has now made its way onto her eyebrows. Keiko sends me an unreadable look. 

“How did you kill the Chimera?” 

I go to answer, but a shock of lightning comes down between us. The only thing I can focus on is the scorching pain that has taken over my body and left arm. My vision goes black as I feel my heart start to give out. 

“We need a medic.” A strained voice yells from beside me. Or is it coming from behind me? I can’t tell. All I can focus on is the searing pain that has taken over my being, I can’t seem to focus on the campers running over to me and Kieko, I can’t hear any more of Keiko's cries for help, and I don’t feel the muscular arms wrap around my body as I feel my heart start to slow down again, everything going back to dark. 

“I think she’s waking up!” 

A loud girlish voice comes from beside me.

“That’s what you said two days ago.” 

Another more annoyed voice talks back. I strain to open my eyes as light crashes against my burning pupils. But I do I open them enough to look up to see dark brown eyes staring down at my Y/E/C ones. 

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood Sleeping Beauty.”

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan imagine #pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #annabeth chase #grover underwood #pjo #percy jackson #camp half blood #percy series #author #athenamikaelson #percy jackson tv show

[hanluex]

comic!jay having a bad dream about your death and not being able to shake it so he all but breaks down your door one night to make sure you’re alive. you’re in the kitchen getting a glass of water before bed and he pretty much just tackles you with how quickly he pulls you into his arms. doesn’t let go of you for the whole night

♡ JUST A NIGHTMARE — JASON TODD

bf!jason x gn!reader | wc : 0.7k words | content : possible grammar and spelling mistakes, lowercase intended, established relationship, angst, mild fluff, mentions of what the joker did to jason in form a nightmare, kisses

“it’s just a nightmare. please, just be a nightmare.”

jason todd uttered the words under his breath like a mantra, sitting on his bed as he dialed your number.

but alas, you didn’t answer.

one call turned into two. two turned into five. and five turned into twenty. but you never answered — not even one.

suddenly, the nightmare seemed so much more real. the colors, the sounds, the pain — everything replayed vividly in his head, forcing him to relive the nightmare he just woke up from.

jason sat tied to a chair as the joker stood over your bruised body, holding a bloodied crowbar in his hands.

he was helpless as he watched the man who once killed him do the same things to you, not a sound leaving his lips no matter how much he screamed.

tears rolled down his face as jason realized he couldn’t do anything but watch the psychotic villain repeatedly whack the love of his life to death. 

despite having a big build, the raven-haired male remained restrained to the chair as you reached out a bloody hand towards him, your busted lips parting ever-so-slowly in an attempt to say something.

with a final stab, the joker towered over you, laughing manically as your body went limp, the quietest of gasps leaving your lips as the crowbar sank into your chest.

without another word, he rushed to find you, knowing there was no way he’d be able to go back to sleep without checking if you were okay.

please prove me wrong, y/n. please be okay.

you stood in your kitchen, sleepily rubbing your eyes as you opened a bottle of water to drink from.

after a long night of work, you came home exhausted, not even bothering to have dinner as you took a shower and went straight to bed.

it was past two in the morning when you finally woke up, oblivious to your phone (which was on silent mode) that had been ringing nonstop for the past half hour.

the pin-drop silence in your apartment came to an end as you heard someone banging against your door, making you freeze in your spot.

“y/n! please tell me you are here!”

the familiar voice snapped you out of your frozen state, and your feet quickly rushed to open the door.

jason todd, your boyfriend, stood in front of your door, panting as if he had just run to your house.

which, considering the situation, he definitely had — no doubt.

you watched as a look of relief graced his face, not wasting any time wrapping his arms around you.

you remained confused as you fell into his muscled embrace, returning his touch as you processed what was happening.

jason felt his knees give away, absolutely relieved to know you were unharmed as he held you in his arms.

you gently guided him to the floor, surprised to see your ever-so-stoic boyfriend look like he was on the verge of a breakdown.

“jay,” you gently spoke, rubbing his back. “i'm here, my love. i'm right here.”

you had absolutely no idea why your boyfriend almost broke down your door just to hold you in the middle of the night, but you knew there was a reasonable explanation behind his actions.

“i'm here, and i'm not going anywhere.”

the two of you remained on the floor, just wrapped in each other's embrace, until jason finally spoke up.

you listened as he quietly confessed about the nightmare he had, your hands intertwined with his as you two sat on the floor.

“i'm sorry. it was stupid and i should've just let it be and—”

“it's not.” you shook your head, smiling gently at the raven-haired male. “i'm really sorry for making you worried.”

“don't be sorry. i barged in—”

you shrugged. “you almost broke my door off its hinges and calmly walked inside. i wouldn’t call that barging in,” you joked, bringing a smile to your boyfriend’s face.

“that i did, yes.” jason nodded. “i’m really sorry about that.”

you leant forward, capturing your boyfriend's lips in a chaste kiss. the raven-haired male smiled against your lips, sighing in contentment.

“you don’t have to apologize for caring about me, jaybird.” you pressed another kiss on his lips, smiling. “i love you.”

jason felt at ease as he looked at you. “i’m glad you are here. alive and unharmed,” he mumbled, shaking his head at the thought of the nightmare.

you pulled yourself into his arms, getting comfortable in his hold as you gently cupped your boyfriend’s face in your hands.

“it was just a nightmare, my love. i’m right here in front of you, and i’m not going anywhere.”

taglist : @maverick-wingman (to be added, please send a dm or ask!)

#submission #[📝] works #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #titans jason #jason todd imagines #titans imagines #titans red hood #red hood imagines #red hood scenarios #red hood x reader #red hood drabbles #titans drabbles #jason todd scenarios #jason todd #titans tv show #titans scenarios #red hood

[impala-dreamer]

Tourniquet - Chapter Two

A Supernatural Dean x Reader Series Told Backwards

~Y/N has been by Dean’s side through his worst days, always there if he needs her, forever just a call away. Love is impossible to fight and more impossible to live with. Just a side character in his epic life, Y/N would give anything just to give Dean a moment’s peace.~

Please see MASTERLIST for full info/warnings/chapter links.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

Their Scars 

It was strange being there, back in the Bunker in Lebanon. She’d been to visit a few times over the years, spending a night or two, but it had been weeks this time. It was nearly a month since Sam had called her and she’d dumped her duffle bag onto a bed and settled in. She didn’t expect to stay forever; she wasn’t moving in. She was just there to help, to give Sam support while he led an army of other-wordly hunters and searched for Dean. 

Dean. 

It felt odd being there without him. So strange to be around Sam knowing that Dean was nowhere close. In thirty years, Y/N didn’t know if she’d ever spent this much time alone with Sam. It wasn’t awkward, he was like a little brother she never got to know, but it was different. 

She didn’t know him as well, couldn’t read the messages left in the breaths between words, didn’t know how to decipher his silence. Luckily, he left more emotion on his face than his older brother ever did. 

He was hurting badly. Stressed and exhausted, Y/N didn’t know if he’d really slept since Dean’s disappearance. Every now and then, she would leave her post by the phones and drag Sam to the kitchen, shove some food down his gullet and then order him to bed. He would pick at the food, barely able to eat enough to sustain himself, and spend his nights awake with his foot tapping and his eyes darting across a computer screen. 

She couldn’t sleep much either, not that she usually did. Still, the thought of that psychotic archangel running around in Dean’s body made her skin crawl and falling asleep was near impossible. Most nights around two, she would wrap herself in a blanket and make her way down the hall to Sam’s bed. They would lay there in the deepest quiet, each peeling back the layers of their quadrant of the ceiling until their eyes hung heavy and their thoughts stilled.

An hour of sleep, maybe two before Sam couldn’t take it anymore and popped up. Some days, Y/N would join him, others she laid there wishing things were easier, praying that life would ease up on her boys eventually. 

It never did. 

Prayers meant nothing when Heaven was, more often than not, literally out to get you and God was indifferent to your pain. Even still, whenever she drove past a church, blew out a candle, peeked a shooting star, she would ask the universe to give them a break, if not a little peace. 

The War Room was crowded and overly warm. The air buzzed with voices and the annoying crinkle of papers being shuffled about. The place that had once been a Fortress of Solitude, inhabited by two, four souls at the most, was now filled to the rafters with bodies hustling from map to map, exchanging notes and making plans. 

It wasn’t so bad, really. It gave her something to do other than worry about Dean and figure out how to get Sam to care enough to take care of himself. 

The day was terribly strange. Sam had forced her to stay back while he went with Mary and Bobby to check out a lead, and she had been on edge ever since. She was cranky, anxious, and on the verge of snapping at anyone who looked at her too long. Knowing they would be back soon, she did her best to stay calm but it was difficult. She sat in her corner by the Bat Phone and managed her temper. 

Y/N slurped at her luke-warm coffee and stared at Joe while he rambled on about a possible lamia hunt in Baltimore. 

The scruffy but handsome hunter had slipped through the Rift with the rest of the group, and while he had fought for years with them against the angels, he had skipped a course or two about hunting the supernatural. If she remembered correctly, he had been a bank teller before the apocalypse, so it wasn’t his fault he was clueless, but it really would do him some good to read a lore book or ten.

“Um…” She swallowed the sugar-less brew and shook her head. “Yeah, it’s highly unlikely. Lamia generally hang out in the Mediterranean. Which, if I’m honest, sounds really fucking good right now.”

Joe’s nose and brows scrunched up and he scanned his phone again, scrolling up through the news article. “Yeah, but it says-” 

Y/N rolled her eyes. He was hot, sure, but not hot enough to excuse him not listening to her. Her jaw clenched and she took a deep breath. 

“Joe…” 

“It really looks like a lamia. I don’t see why-” 

“It’s not!” 

Joe jolted back a step and Y/N held out her hand in apology. 

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking tired. I just… It’s probably not a lamia, since they haven’t appeared in the U.S. since all that weirdness in 2010. But, if you really wanna investigate, go ahead. I just don’t think running off to Maryland right now is very helpful.” 

The man nodded and turned away, phone clutched in a slightly trembling hand. 

She knew she scared some of the new folks, but it wasn’t her fault. She had experience and little patience dealing with other people. 

“Joe-” She called to him before he got too far away and he looked back over his shoulder. “If it is… Rosemary, salt, and fire.” 

He smiled and gave a little wave. “Thanks.” 

“You should be nicer to them. They’re trying their best.” 

Y/N’s eyes turned from Joe to the angel that had appeared at her side. 

Castiel looked just as worn out as she felt. 

“I’m nice to them,” she defended. 

Blue eyes narrowed. “Are you?” 

She sighed. “No. But…” 

His eyebrows raised and she snapped her lips shut. She was still getting used to hanging out with someone who could read her mind if he chose to, and it was highly unsettling. She wondered if he could feel how nervous she was, how terrified that things were going wrong as they sat there waiting, doing nothing. 

“Sorry.” She slumped back against the wall and ran her fingers over the chipped coffee cup. “I’m just tired and worried that they’re not back yet.”

“We all are,” he told her. 

“And I’m really unhappy.” 

“That too,” he nodded. 

“When do we get to be happy, Castiel? When will all of this be over?” She looked up at him and pushed at a tear on her cheek. Exhaustion led her to cry more easily than usual and she hated it. She took a deep breath and her hand fell automatically to the chain around her neck. The lug nut was cool and she closed her fist around it. “When will he be safe?”

Castiel laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know, but soon.” 

“How don’t you know?” She asked, blinking up at him. “Aren’t angels omniscient or some shit?” 

He laughed gently. “Unfortunately, no.” 

She smiled softly. “You should get on that. Might come in handy someday.” 

Squeezing her shoulder, he smiled. “It’ll be ok.” 

She barely believed him, but it was better than voicing the obvious. They hadn’t heard anything in hours. Dean might still be gone, or dead or worse. Michael was creating all kinds of chaos and trying to ruin the world. It seemed as if nothing would ever be better again. 

Something in the air suddenly shifted. The buzz dimmed and bodies blurred in her vision. The metal pendant in her fist warmed. 

Castiel tensed and withdrew his hand. 

Y/N gasped. 

“Dean.” 

He was there, standing in the doorway with Sam close behind. He looked thin and drained, as if he’d just come back from war. Green eyes scanned the rooms, confused by the crowd of people in his space, and he stood there, seemingly unable to make the decision to move. 

Y/N couldn’t contain the fury of emotions churning inside. Her soul ached, her veins tugged at her limbs, pulling everything towards the center of her being. She held her breath and stood up, ignoring the shaking in her hands and the tears trickling down her face. 

Jack got to him first and Dean hugged him kindly, but his gaze fell upon Y/N. 

Her stomach flipped and she gave him the saddest smile of her life. 

Y/N hung back as Castiel greeted him, relief and joy beaming from his sapphire eyes. They chatted a bit, put life back in place for the moment, and then Dean excused himself. He turned away but not before giving Y/N a secret look. He didn’t have to speak, didn’t need to call her over, she knew what he needed. 

She followed him down the hall and found him waiting around a corner. 

“Hey, Y/N/N.” 

She hesitated, boots squeaking on the tiled floor as she came to a halt. Her hand was still locked around her necklace and the nut burned against her palm. She held her breath, determined not to cry in front of him, but it was too late. She let the air out and with it came every moment of worry, every ounce of pain she’d felt in the last few months. She fell into his open arms and they stood there alone in the shadows of the hallway, silently holding each other together. 

The Bunker had a bathtub unlike any she’d ever seen before, and while it took forever to fill up, it was worth the wait. 

Y/N locked the door and fiddled with the tap. As the tub filled, she added a good amount of eucalyptus oil to the water and the fragrance filled the room. 

Dean tore the tuxedo vest from his back, balled it up in angry fists and tossed it aside. 

“This fucking thing,” he mumbled, ripping at the tiny buttons on his shirt. 

Without a word, she came up behind him and dragged her hands slowly up his back. He turned in her arms and she pushed his hands away. He stared down at her while she undid each button, carefully peeled the shirt from his arms.  

There was hurt in his eyes but she didn’t dwell on it, didn’t push him to speak. She opened his belt and Dean grabbed her hands, tugging them both up to his lips. He kissed the knuckles on each side and closed his eyes, resting his forehead against her warm skin for a moment. 

Every bit of her ached for him. 

“It’s OK,” she whispered. “You’re home.” 

The water was hot and the steam was heavenly. 

Y/N settled against the back of the tub and Dean lay against her, his head on her shoulder, his long body between her legs. She rubbed at his back, ran her nails gently over his scalp. She washed his body, soothed his soul. 

The scar on his arm was worrisome, but it could wait. She covered it with her hand and held him tight. 

Dean let himself relax, his muscles finally resting after being dragged to hell and back. He breathed deeply and melted into her, wanting to disappear inside her flesh, wishing she could swallow him whole and keep him locked inside forever. 

“I lied,” he said out of nowhere. 

Y/N ran her hands down his arms, dipping under the water and back up. “Oh?” 

“Told Sam I don’t remember anything. I do.” 

She held her breath and Dean sat up, pulling away from her touch. 

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said gently. “I get it.”

Water splashed as he cupped his hands and brought them to his face. He exhaled heavily and dragged a hand through his hair. 

“It was… bad, Y/N/N. It was really fucking bad.” 

He scooted away and she kicked her knees up to her chest, hiding as she hugged herself. High tide slipped over the edge of the tub as Dean turned and sat back opposite her. He faced her, but his eyes went elsewhere, anywhere but to her anguished face.  

“I was stuck inside. It was dark and freezing and I was… drowning, suffocating. Every fucking minute went on forever and I clawed at him, screamed, tried to climb out, to push him out.” He caught his breath and finally met her gaze. “I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t strong enough, I didn’t fight hard enough. I… I just couldn’t do it.” 

Fifteen years ago, Y/N had been possessed by a demon, some low-level pissant that took her for a joyride around Montgomery, Alabama. While it was terrible to be stuck inside, watching as her hands ripped a young boy apart, she couldn’t imagine the torture he went through. Demons were a bad time, but angels were nuclear reactors. She was surprised he was alive and lucid after his ordeal. 

“It’s not your fault, Dean. None of this was.” 

He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I did all of this. I let him in. I said yes. Fuck, ten years ago I told him to fuck off and now- it wasn’t even a question. I just let him in.” 

Y/N sat forward, leaning in to get him to look at her. “You didn’t just let him in. You did what you had to do, what was best. And you know what? You fucking killed Lucifer. The Devil Himself is gone because of you. You did that. You had to.” 

“Did I?” 

“You did.” Under the water, she grabbed his hand and held it tight. “Dean, I know you’ve fucked up a lot. Shit, we all have. I fuck up constantly. Can’t even keep track of it anymore. But I know, hell, I’ve always known, that your fuck ups are never for nothing.” 

“That doesn’t even make sense.” 

She shook her head. “You know what I mean. You fuck up for the right reasons. You fuck up because you know it’s what needs to be done and in the end… it works out. Somehow, it always works out.” 

“How can you be so sure? What if this time it all crumbles?”

She grinned. “Oh, I’m sure.” 

“How?” 

“Castiel loaned me some of his omniscience.” 

Dean rolled his eyes, bit back a smile, licked his lips. “Cas doesn’t know shit.” 

Y/N shrugged. “Neither do you, so…” 

He laughed. 

She smiled. 

He would be alright.

The water moved again as Dean flipped onto his knees. Y/N watched the wave break over the ledge and onto the floor. 

“Sam’s gonna kill us if we flood the place,” she warned, cringing at the puddles on the floor. 

Dean slid between her legs and swam up close, his thick lashes nearly tangling with hers, his breath like an August breeze over her skin.

“Let him try.” 

Tourniquet Tags:

@prettyinplaid94 @winharry @muhahaha303   @cookiechipdough          

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @the-wounded-healer05  

#supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean/you #angst #series #tourniquet

[turtleneck-crowley]

Wake up babes of the GO fandom turtleneck-crowley just dropped their most recent Magnus Opus🥰🥰🥰

Hey guys I am a eccentric genius artist of the century whose works will probably only be appreciated post mortem (self-diagnosed)

Im also very certain you would all blorbos me if I were a fictional character but alas I am a boring meat package that got birthed out of an afab physiology and thus a sack of mouldy potatoes might have been a more interesting source writing this post. (Pure hubris, part irrational resentment that you are all quite familiar with *cheeky hot wink*)

I happen to own a get out of jail free card called catch 22 which is crafted out of part sarcasm, part idgasinglefgtfoofmyfacei180dmycringethroughyearsofpainandselfrelctionthatim toocoolforyounow public image

(if you actually read that you deserve, well nothing actually except perhaps my condolences and a consensual pat on the back that implies my unlicensed diagnosis that you are in fact, not dyslexic)

Anyhow cracking on back to the sentence *sighs and rolls eyes with you*

(-I mean in the streets, not with you guys, here im babygirl with half a brain cell/true form), part wholesome idiocy, years of experience in masking, part looking presentable, part knowing how society and science and art works and trying to be in tact with my own sense of humanity as much as possible -at least to the point where I’m not breaking any humanitarian law…

And yes bitch the whole eccentric genius /madly passionate or passionately mad paradox catch 22 license holder is you af - want a gold star? ⭐️ (crowley ref) (affectionate banter)

Fact is tumblrinas like to heighten and balance their EQ and IQ agreed?

I’m hyper aware that you guys are smart enough to assess me as going through a manic phase that is on the verge of psychotic-having observed hints of madness in my recent posts deducing via your own experiences that I have gone through a strict diet of coffee, whiskey, smut that Neil Gaiman himself would tear his locks and Sir Terry Pratchett would roll in his grave, finished off with a nice slice of Hozier songs as dessert

(that’s on top of of a yet to be discovered food chain which I call the Antichrist diet footnote: please credit me after I die before my Tesla gets Edisoned

‘Tis actually a great alternative way to invoke a psychedelic experience in substitute of the more expensive and questionably unlawful way that is smoking crack *disclaimer not recommended for the faint hearted or those self-diagnosed as mentally stable)

You are perfectly correct! Here’s another gold star!!! ⭐️

In fact I am currently being yelled by my parents to come downstairs because I need to be dropped off to the asylum while I’m trying to actually do something that gives me joy (Joan of Arc eat your heart out) and I assure you I have eyes and witness my very legs , naked and hairy (and did I mention Im only wearing a slutty black bra and skirt that I wore as a swimming suit AND a pajama and now my back to the looney bin outfit?) leaving a perfectly good soup with baguettes as evidenced here

However, I would like to UNO reverse such a caring notion by giving you a purple heart 💜

and divert you with a fun little clip that displays our para social relationship that I am hoping has deepened through my superficial charm to portray our rendezvous as warm and familiar and human as our beloved Mr. Holmes and Doctor Watson:

No worries, Watson also came with the conslusion that the person he’s engaged with (more like to amiright- not us i mean, them, that’s where the analogy is cut off back into our real identities) is “not human”

Anyhow it might not be your cup of tea but at least hold the mug for a few minutes it’s worth it

Head fic: Gods of Sex and Idiocy

(If anything please see it as a game where we can title it better cause I’m shit at naming things - I call one of my plants Joe)

Hey Good Omens fandom

With the note of:

“who needs sane when you have creative”

-turtleneck-crowley

I have made a meta season 3 in my head and the stars have even sent me a playlist ??? (It’s the only one that seems to be downloaded on my wifi less phone)

Here’s the link:

Check out some of my latest posts

It’s really immersive and otherworldly

Down the rabbit hole and through the mirror you go 🐇🎩🪄

And what if season 1 is the ace route and season 2 is the sexual route so season 3 might be an aro route to defeating the enemy?

Ngk idk idc idgaf

I’m just like phone rn

(side note: why do I have the infinite capacity of taking pains (Sherlock reference) for being a mad artist instead of working on the next big physics formula answer? Good question: I’m actually just an emotional idiot aka sexy trash ✨ that’s addicted to blogging and I wouldn’t trade it for any other praise worthy status in the world 💜)

Honestly guys I sound like a sociopath but I’m really just very pained and fucked royally by circumstance that is too dramatic and gay for anyone except the loonies on tumblr to understand. I’m so disappointed by all this unjust pain and agony of the world- the children, the animals, the environment, the people that I have conditioned myself to display an eloquence so pungent it seems like I’m a cold manipulator. For if I ever showed myself for who I was to them- the judgers, the perverted, the scheming, I would surely be dead either by my own or someone else’s hands. Maybe I’m God and they just like tumblr and good omens and want to eat crepes in peace with the personality they split into 2 -preferably in Paris. Maybe they have been placed all the blame by the enemy and they are powerless to the human condition as you all are by an unknown enemy and is fated to be tortured in anxiety and pain invisible to all and the only infinite power they have is love that bleeds.

But I’ll give you and I both the peace of mind that I am an in fact just a mentally ill human whose life span is between the zones of expiration and fermentation, with a god complex, whom their closest people will never truly know how to care no matter how much they try- and in fact the more they try to help me the more they leave me in my original state- alone.

I leave you (no I’m not killing myself you idiot I’m going to the mental hospital to be molested by nightmares of demons - I literally experience it everyday- as they force me to take my sleeping pills which sinks me deeper into it-oh wait that’s kind of worse lmao) with this favorite piece of classical music of mine

Stay safe yall I love you

#good omens #crowley #good omens fandom #Spotify #aziraphale #good omens headcanons #catch 22 #my only talent is lying (aka calling madness creativity and convincing people I’m intelligent and attractive)

[teratomarty]

When Will They Snap?

One of the best things about TF2 is the vast diversity of ways in which the mercs appear unhinged.  But what pushes them over the edge?

Not going to snap:

Spy: Cool customer.  If you think he’s about to break, for instance under torture, you are wrong, and probably about to die.

Engineer: He may haul off and beat you to death with a wrench, but if he does so, it is because he has arrived at the measured, logical conclusion that it’s the best way to his goals.

Heavy: Nothing will get to him. Not cold, not starvation, not torture.  If you threaten his family, he WILL punch you until there isn’t enough left to ID by dental records, but that’s just him being thorough.

Just on the fucking verge:

Sniper: King of repression. He keeps everyone at a distance with his professionalism (and a high-powered rifle), but if you corner him, physically or emotionally, he will come at you with a kukri, a sharp bit of rock, or teeth and fingernails. Will be embarrassed washing off the blood.

Scout: Running around like a maniac and batting people in the head isn’t a symptom, it’s a job skill.  He’ll only crack when there is nothing that high-velocity violence can accomplish.  Full fetal position when he goes.

Demoman: Speaking of hopelessness, this man has GOT to be kept busy. Periods of inactivity send him spiraling into depression. As long as he has a job and enough alcohol, he’s... functional?  This is leaving apart the issue of cursed swords that whisper to you.

Already snapped:

Medic: Like a deep icy lake, Medic can crack and recrystallise several times a day. Don’t mistake a neatly-pressed lab coat for a reasonable frame of mind.*

Soldier: His worldview is only vaguely contingent on reality.  He gets that he’s standing knee-deep in guts, it’s just that it works perfectly with the peculiar narrative in his head.

Pyro: Long gone, baby, long gone. Pyroland is the happy aftermath of a full psychotic break.

#* I know whereof I speak #tf2

[anna-jupe]

"Rafe" Score Analysis

There's so much we can learn about Rafe through his song on the obx soundtrack. It really is a window into his mind and body and I think it's so interesting and underrated, so I decided to break it down for anyone that might care lol >>

The first 55 seconds are very anticipatory. The music is very shaky and unstable, and it seems like it's on the verge of breaking. It shows so well how Rafe feels when he begins to get angry- out of control, red slowly seeping into his vision.

Around 0:55, we hear this sliding dissonance come in that's so ugly. It really shows a shift in Rafe's mental state. He goes from on edge and frantic to pure, unadulterated and quite scary anger. The strings become less shaky and more purposeful. High and screeching, coupled with the dark and brooding sound underneath. We flip-flop between the two and it's sensory overload, showing how Rafe can get caught up in the battle within his mind. Going back and forth between his head and his heart, nearly all consumed with psychotic rage.

Then we get this awful dissonance again around 1:50 that you can't help but love, which leads into a break at 2:05. This is what I like to think is his snap. Rafe's anger takes over and he's seeing red.

From 2:05 to 3:10, we're fully experiencing these emotions with Rafe. The music transports us into his body and I feel like this section is his actions, when he's doing something so against his conscience it would rip a normal person apart.

The breathing: adrenaline through his veins, his breath quickening

The drums: his heart beat is pounding, loud and irregular

The slides: Rafe's ears ringing

The rhythm of the melody: His muscles jerking and tensing suddenly as he sees red

The pitches: both the melody and bass notes gradually step up a scale. This shows how his emotions continue to ramp up and take over.

Then we have Rafe post-action, from around 3:10-3:59. This is when the weight of what he's done seeps in. The dissonance creates a sense of anxiety that Rafe is feeling as he tries to rationalize what just happened and figure out how to cover it up. It's so oddly sad, like he might be feeling almost a sense of regret for a second?

But then at 4:05 a dark brooding sound seeps back in and we know he's made the decision to go further down this psychotic path. It ends with these super ugly, discordant pitches that leave us knowing that something bad is going to happen. It's very unpredictable and anxiety inducing.

I'm definitely not a professional but those are just things I personally heard and how I interpret them to better understand how scary of a character Rafe really is haha. I'd love to hear you guys' thoughts!!

#obx #outer banks #rafe cameron #film score #drew starkey #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe

[boyfhee]

𐀔 RED STRINGS OF REWIND | n. riki

PRECIS. you and riki meet again, and again, and again, before you run away from him, only for fate to intertwine your paths, and start from zero, all over again. ( 6.75k )

GENRE. vampire ! riki, mystery, thriller, angst

WARNINGS. mentions of blood, hospitals, murder & deaths, depiction of potentially obsessive behaviour, multiple semi-graphic to graphic descriptions of self-harm, reader is kinda sick in the head both literally and metaphorically, riki is psychotic & he isn't actually a vampire or could be one tbh it depends upon your interpretation, transitions from past to present

NOTE. my cue to dip for next few weeks yawl <3 BTW IM SO PROUD OF THE HEADER BUT TUMBLR RUINED IT AND IT LOOKS WEIRD ON PHONE </3 big thanks to sai ( @jungwonize ) for helping me figure out the characteristics of a vampire pls that legit solved half my issues with this fic and also beta-ing this fr he's so <3 if you don't understand what's happening, i recommend you to read the whole thing because that's the only way for this to make sense. see y'all in a few weeks, happy reading <3

the first time you ran away from riki was when you were five. it was a pleasant day and you were enjoying your evening in the playground downstreet, playing catch with other kids around. an escape wasn’t necessary but you had accidently hurt riki while helping him speed up on the swings. that was the first time you had seen the boy shed tears. ultimately, being the last ones remaining, you saw the sun disappear behind the horizon as his sobs increased, the sand turning red due to blood. at that moment, all you could think of was to run; and so you did.

consequently, you started avoiding him at school. despite being just a kindergarten student, you had a keen eye, always looking out for things that could affect you negatively. perhaps, riki made it to that list, and you found yourself noting his every move. you had your eyes on every breath he took, every action, every word. you sat at the bench farthest from his seat in class, yet still your eyes didn’t leave his sight even for a second. you started lying whenever his mother called your mom, saying she was sleeping or simply, not home. you lied about the parents-teacher meeting being cancelled in case your teacher brings up the events from what happened at the park a few days ago.

the same went on for days, weeks even. you saw the everlasting friendship between riki’s and your mom turn shallow, hanging by a thread, on the verge of breaking. you didn’t mean it. the damage, you didn’t want this to turn into something big. your mom has known his mother since her college. being the top students and the best friends they were, they decided to live in the neighbourhood after the death of their husbands. your father died in a car accident. as for riki, from what you recall, his father never existed in the first place.

maybe the gods were on your side because soon after, your mother was fired from her job and luckily enough, your uncle helped her secure a job in the capital. it was nice, living two thousand one hundred and fifty two kilometres away from him, in tokyo, it felt good. you could finally breathe in relief. maybe, you feel bad for your mom since she had to leave her friends. perhaps, a part of you is upset since you had to leave your friends; though, if you had the chance, you would do it all over again.

you wanted to live peacefully. you don’t want people to blame for what happened. you didn't want to be the reason behind the dark blood stained patch on the sand that made the kids shake in fear in the dead of the night.

the second time you ran away from riki was in highschool. it was unbelievable, having him this close to you. you thought you left him behind, in okinawa, however on the first day of highschool, you had him standing in front of you, and you felt your heart sink into a never ending pit of horror. an escape wasn't planned but it was the only way left when he tried to strike a conversation with you. you both were alone in the dance room, a smile plastered on his face as he recalled the events you buried in the past. you felt your heartbeat accelerate, and your first instinct was to run; and so you did.

you spent that day in the cubicle, crying and fighting your anxiety attack. a couple few knocks on the door made their way to you but you didn't respond, knowing you're better off alone.

it felt horrifying to have your past come back to you. having riki standing in front of you was like a nightmare come true. you had noticed the scar of his forehead; reminding you of everything you buried deep, making sure no one would know about it. you wouldn't say you never expected to see him again. your grandparents live on okinawa and every time you visit them, a part of you anticipated seeing the boy somewhere around. it wasn't scary, really, for you don't live in okinawa and riki doesn't know where you live.

things were perfect, better than you had planned initially, since never once did you come across riki in okinawa. you even visited his house, asking neighbours about him and his family. someone said his father came and the family moved to germany with him. however, you knew that was a lie. your mother might've said that his father passed away when he was three, but you know he never had a father in the first place.

so, eleven years later, seeing him all the way in tokyo, attending the same school as you, it was like seeing death on your door. as if the reaper is at your doorstep, asking for your soul. however, your perfect highschool life turned into a pit of hell when the incident you've been hiding resurfaced again and this time, on a public stage.

‘how did you get your scar?’ a student had asked him, and you froze in your seat. the greater gods weren’t on your side since in the second half of second year, riki transferred to your class. you don’t know how that happened— or if it’s even allowed— he just did, and sat right behind you as you felt the situation grip out of your hands day by day. you expected him to disclose the intels to everyone the way he stared into your back. your heart skipped beats whenever his hand brushed past your back, or when he randomly grew a habit to play with your hair in the middle of science lessons. you didn’t think riki had any intentions of ruining things for you; that is, until that question was brought up during self study class.

you heard him shift his eyes on you as he smiled at the question. ‘ah, it’s a long story.’ he had responded. your grip around the pen in your hand tightened. suddenly, geometry was long forgotten and all you could focus on were the words leaving his mouth. ‘i was playing in a park with a friend,’ he continued, and you gripped the measuring compass, pressing its needle into the desk as your pulse surged up. ‘and got injured. the friend, however,’ you felt his gaze settling on your back once again, goosebumps rising at the sudden eerie change in the air. you lifted the divider off the desk, your right hand fisted up so tightly that you felt your nails leave marks on your palm. ‘what about the friend?’ the student asks, and oh how you wished you could wipe them off their curiosity forever.

sitting and letting him continue would be a mistake, like digging your own grave and waiting for someone to bury you. you couldn’t tell him to stop because that’d be no better than showing up at death’s door. ‘the friend, well,’ you felt him digging holes on your back by the way he’s staring at you. you felt him smirking through his words and sitting would be a mistake, so you took the measuring device and pierced through your wrist, making a deep wound that stained your shirt red, the same way riki’s blood stained the sand.

the students gasped, teachers rushed in, you were escorted to the infirmary. no one questioned about the injury, why or how it happened. their questions concerned your wellbeing and nothing else. their eyes were on you while yours were on riki, who waved at you with a smile before turning his attention towards the blood splatter on your desk like a moondrunk monster. that was the third time you ran from riki. an escape was vital and your first instinct was to get away from him; and so you did.

you didn't attend school after that.

the first few days were off as an excuse for your injury. you deliberately went for your dominant hand, knowing it would offer greater impact than any other part. it was a sporadic decision, yet proven to be worth the pain. you had your friends drop notes at your house, occasionally checking up on you as well. but as your hand got better, the reasons to stay home narrowed to a few numbers, ones that you can count on your fingers. so, burdened by the need of the hour, you prepared another plan.

attending school after three weeks would've been amazing if your brother hadn't called the local suicide hotline. it was six-thirty in the morning, you were in your room while your mom had sent your brother to call you for breakfast, only for him to find on your bathroom tiles, all red and pale from the blood loss from your previously injured wrist. you hated him for calling the suicide hotline. it was a wasted move, but you couldn't blame him when he made things easier for you.

news spreads fast, and gossip spreads faster. the details about you were headlines, if anything. while your teachers worried about you for taking such destructive measures, a few of your friends started suspecting that you had gone crazy. one of them saw you stab your own wrist, other heard you mumbling to yourself. you were also spotted staring at riki with your gaze bearing daggers against his neck. an anonymous post from a kindergarten classmate claimed you to be 'obsessive,' briefing about how you used to stare at riki all day, like a predator eyes their prey.

in just two months, the tables turned and you became the 'creepy' one amongst them. soon after, you stopped having visitors. while you declined some of their visits, others stopped caring about you, as if you would come for them next. your days started feeling longer than usual as your stay at the hospital increased. from psychic ward to er and from er to psychic ward, those were your only two destinations for the next few months. bottles of pills and syrups awaited for you thrice a day as the excessive test procedures became your only companion in the house of dead.

you had spent nights laughing and crying about your poor condition. you didn't think you would ever end up this way, between machines and syringes, taking pills as if they constituted a major part of your meals. it was pathetic, almost shameful. you were tired of running. you changed cities to escape riki. now, you're holding death's hand to save yourself from the same boy you thought you had left behind. you had considered quitting altogether at some point. you remember cutting your wrist right above a major artery, making it deep enough to drench the sleeves of your white hospital gown. you expected it to be the last time you would see your mother. however, you woke up amongst tubes and bandages the next morning, feeling weaker than ever.

your eyes fell upon your mother's pale figure, noticing how thin she had gotten since the last time you saw her. a nurse informed you that you had woken up after four days and your mother didn't even drink enough water during that period. that day, for the very first time in years, you wondered about how this might be affecting her.

suddenly, this game about life and death made no sense. running from riki seemed illogical. staying in the four walls of your hospital room started making you feel suffocated. watching your mother fight for your life day and night made you question your ways for the very first time. for the first time, you wondered if what you had been doing was right. you were ready to quit your act, deciding to change your ways, just for your mother, but that was until riki's name showed up on your mother's phone one night. a look at the call log signified that she had been in touch with riki all along, taking almost every day, texting even.

it felt unreal, like a betrayal. sure, your mother doesn’t know a thing about what you had been planning for years, but riki, of all people, it felt like living with a knife up your throat, and you realised that staying with your mother would be an open invitation to let riki into your life again. so, you decided to run again.

2 : 49 am — you had it planned. you left your room eleven minutes before three in the morning, knowing damn well that your mother would have the best sleep of her life with those five pills of temazepam you had managed to get your hands on after the doctor prescribed her a stronger medication for insomnia. somewhere inside, maybe, you felt guilty for deceiving your mother; or more like, overdosing her with sedatives to execute your escape plan. but none of it seemed to stagger you when the thoughts about your mother keeping in touch with riki flooded your mind.

echoing footsteps with moonlight illuminating the empty corridors, it was too late before you realised that you ran in all the wrong directions, trying not to bump into any hospital staff. you had seen it in the movies, but mortuaries always felt creepier than they make it to be in fictions. there’s an eerie glow in the air, one you can’t see but feel as fear crawls up your skin. you ran your fingers over the ice cold walls, strolling through the empty floor, finding your way out. despite the sinister flow in the air, your heart felt at ease, unlike your thoughts running at a thousand miles per second.

you drag yourself towards the elevator, legs almost giving up from the fatigue stacking up inside of you, the lack of food finally surfacing as your blood adorned fingers leave their imprints on the white walls. you were so busy escaping that you didn’t realise when the dressing on your wrist loosened, consequently making the blood drip down your hands everywhere you go. the elevator chimed, marking someone’s arrival, and before you could process the situation, his name fell off your lips.

‘riki—’ you had whispered in fear, stepping away from him as his feet ascended towards you. there was a smile on his face. not that you could see it, for he was looking at the floor, but you heard his faint chuckle spin into the air. ‘you shouldn’t leave any hints if you’re trying to escape,’ he had answered, wiping off a speckle of blood from his lips as his vision sharpened at the sight of the blood streaming down your hand. his antics were beyond your comprehension. maybe, he was the crazier one between the two of you. he called your name, voice pitched low as your breath hitched. another step towards you and you were running away with tears brimming your eyes.

the escape was impromptu, but equally necessary. your sense of direction dissipated as tears blurred your vision, heartbeat pacing up as you heard his footsteps echoing closely behind you. at that moment, you wondered if running away from him for the first time was the right choice. you could’ve helped him reach his home— which was just a few blocks away from yours— maybe, could have explained the whole situation to his mother and owned up to your mistakes. at that moment, the seventeen-year-old you pitied the five year old yn for the direction your life would proceed in after that innocent incident. and again, you could’ve helped him— could’ve— but you chose not to, for the five year old you were petrified at the sight of the boy looking at his own blood lusciously.

a striking pain surged up your ankles, and you found yourself rolling down the stairs; and if you recall correctly, you had screamed. it was more of a shriek, or a shout for help, one that alerted the couple few staff monitoring the mortuary. their muffled voices reached your ears as the pain emerging from your head seemed to nullify all your senses. you don’t remember a lot from that day, except him, or the way he stared at you with a frown sitting on his face as the nurses put you on the stretcher, a frown that morphed into a menacing smile soon before as your mind gave up on keeping you conscious.

which leads to the present day— in nagoya, where you’re living with your mother— surprisingly — doing quite well at twenty-seven, working as a lawyer at a local law firm. there are days when you look in the mirror, letting your eyes fall over all the scars you have given yourself. you let your mind trace over all the dreaded memories from the past, wondering how you made it out. it was quite funny, actually, resorting to death to escape it.

you haven't heard from riki in the past ten years. not that you want to, but he didn't try to contact your mother like he used to. he's just a sweet little kid in your mother's heart who stopped calling her one day. he's just a figment of her memory, or like a wild nightmare for you. you had heard from your mother that riki's mom passed away a few months after he started attending highschool, and that she sent him money every month to support him.

she's upset, but you're glad he's gone. you're thankful to the deities for finally putting him out of your life. your life feels easier. the incident from your childhood no longer sends chills down your spine. your mother looks healthier, you don't walk on eggshells anymore. occasionally, you wake up in the middle of the night, hyperventilating, whenever an incident from the past slips into your mind as a dream, but it’s fine. you have medications for them. you take medicines for anxiety attacks, for migraines, insomnia, and a lot more, honestly. your problems haven’t disappeared. they’re still there, actively being the reason for the tear stains on your pillow. they are still here, inside your mind, or beside you, walking hand in hand to remind you that you aren’t perfect— you never were. despite your perfect grades and physique, you struggle to remember things. you take antidepressants to continue with your profession. it was a fight, a war, maybe; it still is, and will continue to be one, but it feels nice to live this way, as if the universe has offered you a second chance at life. maybe, it was all worth the risk, worth enough for you to do it all over again.

“you’re zoning out again,” a familiar voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and it belongs to jay. his soft laughter spins into the air, mixing with the fragrant vanilla and cinnamon filling the cafe’s atmosphere with its magic. it feels nice to live this way because you have jay.

you had met him in college when you got lost on the campus. it was your second day, after all, and the locked rooms along with the lack of lighting on the deranged floor reminded you of the hospital. you were close to breaking down when you heard footsteps approaching you, accompanied with a concerned voice. that day, he didn’t leave your side even after classes, making sure to drop you home before continuing on the way to his’.

jay is a nice guy. yeah, he teases you a lot, points out your horrible sense of direction in front of your other colleagues, makes fun of the way you whine every time you have to work past the destined working hours, but it’s fine. he helps you whenever possible, has reserved his weekends for you unless work stacks up his desks. he feels like the highschool friend you wanted to have, like the person you would’ve had a crush on in school if he helped you with your assignments. in short, jay is nice, and even being twenty-seven year old with several never-ending issues didn’t stop you from falling for him.

“ah, by the way,” he speaks up again, gaining each and every ounce of your attention. “i won’t be able to drive you home today.”

“it’s fine. i can go by myself." those are the words you tell, however, a part of you feels upset since you planned on asking him for dinner. "honestly, i don’t know why you drive me home when i live just fifteen minutes away.”

“maybe because your directional sense is basically non-existent?” he mocks and you both step out of the cafe, your steps following him to his car. “still, take care. you know that killer is still out there, right?”

“of course,” a pause. you wonder if jay has something to say— and you swear you're not letting your hopes escalate higher than they already are. over the years, you have learnt to wish for the best and that's all you're trying to do right now.

“do you also think he's a vampire?” he asks, referring to the person the team had indicted this morning.

the question leaves you astonished. one wouldn't expect him to bring up a case that isn't his. jay has his habits— a fixed schedule, appointment limits, minding his own business— there are more. so, having him strike a conversation about something that didn't concern him was new. "what?”

“i don’t believe in vampires and all, but have you seen the fang imprints on the victims’ neck? it seems plausible, no matter how much i try to overlook it.” no, really, as an attorney, you could only think of how obscene this all sounds. you have heard about the rumours, they say the culprit is actually a vampire so hunts every wednesday, sucking people off their blood and leaving them to die, thus earning the notorious name; the vampire killer.

at the age of four, riki told you about vampires. he asked you if you knew what they were, and you responded with the classic definition that any other four year-old would've given. 'bad people who drink blood and are scared of the sun' with an uninterested grimace. your brows furrowed as you saw a sour expression settle in his face. that's when he told you another fact about vampires— they have a set target, and they chase it until it's theirs, no matter how long it takes.

you don't recall if he added anything else, not that you understand his words either, but the smirk on his face told you that riki liked vampires, probably a lot more than anyone else did.

“even if he is, they can’t say that in court,” and to be very honest, you don't want to involve yourself in a case that isn't yours either. it simply isn't worth the time. sure, the rumours going around may fuel everyone's curiosity, but not yours.

he sighs, getting into his car before rolling down the windows. “see you tomorrow. let me know if you get lost on your way home,”

“i will,” you affirm with a laugh, watching him drive away as you proceed to your walk back home.

the last time you represented a murder case was ten months ago, never again. you had a hard time dealing with everything. every mention of dead bodies reminded you of him. but you knew it was all your imagination, for riki was never a serial killer. he was just a boy, though with unusual habits, but still just a boy you had known long ago.

yet you still had your suspicion. you spent days wondering if he's schizophrenic or something along those lines, or if psychosis got the best of him. a clearer look into his condition led you to haemophilia— obsession with blood— which is fine, really, not everyone is the same. people are born different, with distinct characteristics. riki happened to be one of the very few; and honestly, he was never the one to fit the crowd.

you halt in the middle of the streets, interrupted by a call that displays 'prosecutor jung' on your phone screen. “hello?”

"attorney yn, you're required to report at the prosecution office urgently."

"right now?" you ask, confused by the sudden request and that too, two hours after your shift is over. "i'm almost home."

"we have, uh, a few things to discuss about the vampire killer case with you. please report as soon as possible."

and the next second, you hear silence devouring the other side of the line. you sigh, texting your mom that you'd be late so she doesn't have to stay up. call it overthinking or parental care, but even at twenty-seven, your mom looks after you like a five year old. you've had your aunts tell you to move out but honestly, you're having a good time living with your mother. it's better than living alone, given your health conditions.

resultantly, you make your way back to the law firm. this time, with a butter face. the extra working hours don't affect you anymore. you've done that a lot and it's a part of job responsibilities at this point. what's has your attention is the topic of concern, the vampire killer, a case you aren't associated with in any way. you haven't even read all the articles they had published regarding the case, and even if you had, you aren't sure if you would change your mind about the case being an utter idiocy.

you arrive at the firm, taking the elevator to the main prosecution office situated on the fourth floor. the building feels lonelier at night, especially with just a few people working in their cabins as even the quietest of sounds fills in the eerie silence. lifts and hallways always remind of the hospital and everything that had happened there. your skin runs cold whenever you find yourself in an alone hallway at night as the urge to run away tries to conquer your mind.

you have learnt to pay it no mind, though, just like now, as you walk up the empty halls while humming a song to put your mind at ease finally arriving at the designed venue.

"attorney yn," she shoots you an exhausted smile, the fatigue evident on her face. "thank you for coming."

you didn’t want to, actually; she forced you to come. and her being your senior, you had to follow her orders no matter how much you loathe it. "it's alright. what did you want to talk about?"

"yes," she turns around to grab a few documents off her desk before turning back to you. "we've been trying to question our prime suspect. however, he refuses to say anything without a lawyer. here are the files—"

"wait," you interject her words, cutting her off mid sentence. "why me? i mean, i'm not a criminal lawyer."

"we'll, you were requested by the suspect." she explains, her words making you freeze in your stance. "he claims to know you and wouldn't accept any other attorney."

you don't ask further questions, or rather, are not allowed to as mrs. jung and her team escorts you to the questioning room. she assures you that you only have to ask a few questions and after that, their lawyer would take over, but honestly, that's none of your concerns at the moment.

you don’t even know the name of the person indicted. they prefer not disclosing it. you haven’t even seen him because of your sheer indifference towards the case. you don’t know anything except that, his victims die of anaemia. you’ve had your suspicion— it’s him— and you’d be lying if you say you didn’t sleep for days when the news broke out. the truth is, you never recovered from the trauma. you claim to have forgotten the boy you used to play for hours with. you say his name doesn’t affect you anymore. however, the mere news about the blood-thirsty killer in the neighbourhood was a spark to your fears, gradually igniting it, and now it burns like a forest.

amidst all, you find yourself standing before the questioning room, ready to go in, and you have your one thing clear : this isn’t about riki. but that’s just something you’re convincing yourself to believe in for your sake.

you open the door, stepping in, eyes wide open at the sight of complete emptiness in the room, except one police official standing in a corner. you sigh in relief, taking a seat, maybe you weren’t just ready to face the suspect; or perhaps, you simply didn’t want to. the officer informs you that the person you’re about to would be back shortly, for he has gone to the washroom. in the meantime, you decide to look through the intels regarding the case, provided in a file handed over by the prosecutor in charge. there’s no picture— or maybe they didn’t add one— which is odd. there are blank spaces all over the pages with very few details written along the lines : suspect is in his late twenties, unemployed, lives alone, is conjectured to be suffering from renfield’s syndrome— those words leave a bitter taste on your tongue.

you don’t know much about that term. actually, scratch that, you don’t know anything about it at all. you don’t think the team handling the case does either, for there’s only scarce information present in the documents given to—

“it’s been a while, yn.” your breath hitches, heart skipping a few beats before beating restlessly. shivers shoot down your spine as your grip around the papers tightens, crumbling their corners. “we meet again.”

it’s him, you know it, it is him, nishimura riki— you know. he hasn’t changed much. riki still has his devilish eyes beholding a sinister glow. the menacing smirk still adorns his face like diamond jewellery. it has been ten years but the way your name rolls off his tongue still makes your skin crawl, giving you chills as all those memories flood back inside your mind. there’s a pen in your pocket, and you wonder if running away is still an option. you bite the inside of your bottom lips, tapping your foot nervously on the granite floor as the taste of iron conquers your mouth. a part of you wonders how riki would react to that. you look at the officer, and then contemplate doing exactly what you did in highschool.

“you can’t run away now.” riki chuckles. it’s more of a taunting laughter, one that reminds you of all the olden times. it’s infuriating and at the same time, is inducing fear inside your veins. you can’t look him in the eyes— you won’t— it’s the same as losing a game at the cost of your life. you take a sharp breath, digging nails into the palm of your hands once again, before his next words manage to seize your attention. “why have you been running from me, yn?”

it’s an innocent question, really, you wonder if the cameras in the room make you seem like a socially incapable person at the moment. “i’m in a hurry so let’s make this quick—”

“tell him to go out.” you flinch at his words, you always do. there’s nothing in the world that makes you shake in fear as much as riki’s presence. you look at the officer, and then at riki— his lips, because you don’t want to look into his eyes ever again. his words ring inside your head while you consider his request. “you’re taking a lot of time for someone who’s in a hurry, yn.”

you want him to stop calling your name. it’s not appropriate, quite literally, because you’re no longer friends. you’re his attorney and he’s your client, you want to create a line between, though, you dare not to. you look at the officer, gesturing to him to leave as he hesitates for a brief second before stepping out of the room. your instincts are telling you that it was a wrong move, for being alone with riki is equivalent to standing at gunpoint where the trigger pulls when the timer goes off.

“alright, let’s star— let me just—”

“my god, yn, you’re shaking.” he cuts you off, making your fingers wince at his voice. your gaze falls upon the floor, blinking nervously as you bite the inside of your cheeks, making your blood hold the only taste in your mouth. your eyes follow his actions as he stands up from his seat, the metal chair sliding against the floor, making you wince again, taking a sharp breath as he crouches in front of you. “are you scared?”

his voice is no louder than a whisper, but it resonates like a loud thud against your ears. as if someone is screaming in your ears. irritability surges inside of you as you start pricking the skin alongside your nails obsessively, glancing into the camera, waiting for someone to arrive and help you get out of this. the silence in the room trails on your skin, eating you out, before you decide to take the matter in your own hands.

you stand up, pushing your chair away from him with your legs as you exhale heavily. “please, go back to your seat.” you don’t look at him, actively avoiding his sight by running your gaze all over the room anxiously, but you feel his eyes on you like a burden on your shoulders. there’s a sudden shift in the air as he stands up, dragging his chair just next to yours before taking a seat and waiting for you to continue.

“is this okay?” it’s not, and you hate how you feel as if you’ve lost your ability to speak and counter his actions, simply nodding as you sit apprehensively on your chair. you pick one of the files, frantically going through the pages instead of reading it with proper attention. at this point, the case is the last thing you care about. with a heart pacing unbelievably fast, you feel like you’re going to have a heart attack, while your mind is reciting nothing but chants and prayers for the prosecution team to come inside.

riki’s eyes follow your gaze, watching you as you flip though the documents, sweat covering your forehead. his irises settle upon your hand, the one you had injured deliberately in highschool, and then the scars on your fingers and wrist that you had acquired over the years, finally residing upon a certain word on one of the papers that makes him chortle. “do you know about renfield’s syndrome?”

it’s a question that leaves you perplexed, making you freeze in your stance. “yes— i mean, no, i don’t.”

“it’s clinical vampirism, obsession with drinking blood.” there’s slight amusement in his voice as he inches towards you, whispering those words with a straight face. that’s the first time in years you look into his dreadful eyes. a pause, silence fills in the air between the two of you before he claps abruptly, startling you with his maniacal laughter. "it's crazy, right? people don't want to accept that vampires exist so they make it a medical condition."

your blood runs cold at the sound of his laughter. riki was arrested as the prime suspect for one of the most gruesome cases, yet no remorse has been evident on his face ever since you stepped inside the room. you pay his words no mind— try to—because indulging into his thought process would do more to you than you want done, and is, if anything, unnecessarily time consuming. "what were you doing this thursday?"

you inquire, waiting for his response, but not a word comes out of his mouth. he leans against the chair, playing with the ring on his index finger with a stoic face. your breath fastens again, nervousness creeping in as the silence drowns you inside of it. you're scared of riki's words, but you fear his silence even more. it's like a thousand screams lay unveiled behind his silence, and he looks at you as if you're going to be one of them soon.

"why do you always run away from me, yn?" there's sadness dripping off his words along with unknown beads of guilt. "from the playground, then school. you had always run away from me." he removes his ring, placing it on the table before looking at you with a luscious glint in his eyes, the one you saw that day, in the playground. "it makes me want to chase you even more."

another series of villainous laughter spins in the air as you stand up, rushing towards the door to call for help, only for him to make you trip on the calloused floor with his legs. you think you’re finally connecting the dots. however, you don’t want to accept it. his questions hold no meaning to you since he knows exactly what happened. riki knows you didn’t run away from the playground. you told him to stay while you called someone for help, but you turned around when his sobs stopped, only to see him devouring on his bleeding knee succulently. running away was the only escape for the five year old you, who had witnessed her only friend turn out to be a devillious monster.

you fist up your hands again, wanting the nails to pierce through the skin of your palms. you find yourself in the same situations you used to run from in the past, except, there are no escapes with time. your vision blurs as a single tear rolls down your cheeks while you attempt to stand up again.

"there, there; let me help you," the only sound you're able to perceive is his footsteps approaching you as he locks the door, sliding the key back inside his pocket before crouching in front of you once again. “c’mon yn, stop running away. don’t you think we should catch up after all these years?”

strings of no’s fall off your lips along with the tears streaming down your face as you drag yourself away from him, against the cold floor. you look towards the cctv, praying that someone would report soon. truthfully, they should’ve been outside, checking up on the situation since it has taken so much time. you hear riki sigh before shooting you a pitiful gaze. “you know, the cctv isn’t working.”

and just like that, the last strands of hope you’ve been holding onto breaks as you look into the eyes of the person you’ve been running from all your life. it feels as if the world has stopped with your breath caught up inside your throat. you watch his lips curl into a smirk as he inches closer to you, halting a few inches before your ears, whispering, "no one will come." and before you could react, you felt his fangs pierce through your neck as you feel all your senses died down.

perhaps, your biggest mistake is that you saw a friend in a monster. you had known it all along, his habits, the way you saw his mother drink down his father's blood— all of it; and yet, you wanted to believe riki was different. the truth is that everyone is the same under their varied skin. their true colour surfaces according to the need, making them someone the world never assumes them to be, like the innocent boy you once knew became your worst nightmare. and now, all you could do is wait to die as the excruciating pain makes it harder for you to breathe with every passing second.

and hour flies by, and the door finally unlocks, revealing a gruesome scene mrs. jung— blood splatters on the floor and on the wall, scratches on riki's faces, signifying that you had tried to fight, although ending up losing terribly. your pale blue body catches her attention, especially your lifeless eyes that still stare at with disappointment and shock. riki stands up in a daze, handing her his blood-drenched handkerchief. "her mother is next."

taglist in the rbs.

#—approved. #@ : rsr. #enhypenwriters #kflixnet #ficscafe #enhypennetwork #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #nishimura riki #enhypen niki #enhypen nishimura riki #riki x reader #riki angst #enhypen fic #riki fic #enhypen au #riki au #enhypen vampire au #riki imagines #enhypen imagines

[transingthoseformers]

What if for sg Earthspark, Megatron is actually a hostage and Optimus and Elita are both lying to everyone and then when the terrans come along, Megatron has to put on his teacher mode and pretend like he’s not on the verge of a psychotic break

Wait yes yes that'd be fascinating, especially with GHOST and the human Maltos interact with him, this would be fascinating and we can't forget the other decepticons

Fuck, hell maybe even we include that old disproven earthspark theory with mnemosurgery and suggest that they're threatening him with it (or it's involved somehow)

#maccadam #transformers #sg elita one #sg optimus prime #sg megatron #god this would be fun #transformers earthspark #transformers shattered glass #that theory didn't have a snowball's chance in hell but it's still fun au material #I've been thinking a lot lately about the uglier sides of Megatron working with ghost and the autobots #earthspark sg au

[sleepy-natalie]

Fear (E)

pairing: kylo ren x kidnapped!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: minors dni, kidnapping, mentions of anxiety, force use, mentions of injury, let me know if there is anything else.

notes: graphic made by me. this is my first post on here, so please let me know if you have any tips! i would love some constructive criticism on this (and it is welcome on any other post), so if you have any notes, please leave them in the comments. check out my pinned post for information on requests and other tidbits, thank you for reading!

Fear was a terrible thing to feel. The emotion was commonly felt, however, especially now. Especially in this situation.

You were well acquainted with fear. Fear often collides with anxiety, forcing antsy and chaste apologies from one another before continuing on their jog to the back of your mind. You were anxious enough for fear to be ever present in your day to day life.

Whether it was over something silly, like wondering if you had remembered to lock your door after leaving for work, or wondering what would become of you now that you had been kidnapped by the First Order.

That was your current dilemma.

You were sat in a small cell, chained to the bench against the wall with very little to stimulate your mind. This left you to think about all of the possibilities in which your life would lead, thanks to your anxiety. Dried tear stains littered your grimy cheeks, your eyes puffy and bloodshot. Your wrists were rubbed raw from where you were attached to the wall, and your hands were shaking. From fear or hunger, you could not tell.

You had no way to tell how much time has passed since you've been taken, no clock or window to watch from. You could feel yourself teetering on the verge of a psychotic break, restless from your time in the cell and the constant wondering of the what if's and the then what's.

You didn't know why you had been kidnapped in the first place. You were a caretaker, helping out an old, lonely man in his small hut. He had had an important visitor that night, a few hushed words shared between them and a message passed along. That was when they came. The First Order, looking—hunting—for someone, or something.

The guest had left quickly, managing to narrowly escape the merciless wrath of the stormtroopers. You had no time to escape into the desert before troopers raided the home, killing your employer. That's when you fainted.

You woke up in the cell, alone and unaware of your surroundings. No one has come to visit you, torture you, feed you. What felt like days could have been mere hours, minutes even. But the steady taps of your foot grounded you, giving your brain something to do. One, two, three, four taps of my toes.

Your feet made quiet tip-tap noises, and a louder, heavier stomp accompanied your sounds soon after, stopping right in front of your door.

It slid open with a whoosh, revealing a man dressed head-to-toe in black. His hands were gloved, boots heavy and made of leather. His robes covered the entirety of his body, a metal helmet covering his head. He had a dark, powerful aura, causing fear to roll through you once more. Fear and anxiety were having quite a long chat this time.

The man entered your cell, door closing behind him as he stood in front of you. You gulped and looked down at the floor, quaking in his presence and unsure of your purpose here. You were an average person, nothing special enough about you to kidnap you. His motive confused and frightened you.

"Do you know why you're here?" His modulated voice startled you, causing you to jump in surprise. You quickly tried to gather yourself as you shook your head, aggressively swallowing to try and gain some moisture in your cotton-dry mouth.

Your head jerked upwards suddenly, the speed causing your neck to ache. You gasped as you made eye contact with the mask, noticing his hand had tensed at his side, "You will look at me when I speak to you," He growled, you could feel his glare burning your skin, "Do you know why you are here?"

You tried to shake your head again, only to discover that you couldn't move, "N-no sir." You mumbled, tears pooling in your eyes. The fear hasn't left, normally it would have left by now. This emotion, fear, seems to be the new norm, a constant in your ever-changing life.

"That's better," He acknowledged, a slight twitch of the helmet making it seem like he nodded in approval, "You are here because you have demonstrated signs of the force. Do you know what that is?"

Again, you tried to shake your head, still unable to do so, "N-no, sir." Your bottom lip quivered now, the strain on your neck causing more pain than you thought was necessary. You had shown no signs of resistance, following his orders, so why were you still forced to look up at him?

"And do you have any idea where the man in your hut has gone? What he talked about?"

You didn't even try to gesture your answer this time, "No, sir."

A sudden, sharp pain throbbed in your skull, making your eyes overflow with tears as they started to stream down your face. You bit your lip to muffle the scream of pain you let out, feeling like a hand was rifling through your brain, searching for something.

It was gone as quick as it came, and so was the hold on your head. You slumped back against the wall; quick, uneven breaths escaped you as you trembled. Again, fear present in your shaky form.

The man watched you carefully as you attempted to gather yourself. He noticed the constant shake of your hands, the anxious bouncing of your leg. He could see the remnants of your attempts to escape, wrists rubbed raw from resisting the cuffs chaining you to the wall. But, he could also sense your curiosity, your confusion. The underlying anger buried so deep within yourself, you probably didn't know it was there. Covered by anxiety and, above all, fear.

He smirked at that, knowing he had that power over you. Knowing that he could frighten you so gave him a confidence boost, a reassurance of his position and yours. You were the prisoner, and he decided your fate.

He felt comforted, knowing that beneath the timidness you held, you were just as enraged as him. He could mold you, help you become something great, help you channel that anger and create something beautiful of the universe, alongside him.

You flinched when he spoke, an unseen smirk creeping its way onto his lips, "You will become my apprentice. I will show you how to use the force, and in return, you will obey me as your superior." You looked up at him in confusion, the expression on your face caused sinful thoughts to flash in his mind, "Am I clear?"

A shaky breath left your pouty lips, dry and bitten, "Yes, sir."

#kylo ren x reader #star wars #reader insert #kylo ren #ben solo #fanfic #fanfiction #first post #ben solo x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x y/n #ben solo x you #ben solo x y/n

[slothspaghettiwrites]

I'm just gonna drop this here.

No thoughts, head empty, pussy empty, ass gaping, throat bored.

Oh bestie. OH MY BESTIE BUN.

Lab Bunny

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, threesome, office au, manipulation, blow job, GN!Reader, work place bullying, implied drugging, power exchange, unedited

This wasn't a dream job. In fact, it was an utter nightmare. Being the assistant to two psychotic pharmaceutical executives was like hell on earth. They lacked care for anyone or anything, their only thoughts were how far could they push science and how much money could they make off it. It was long hours, harsh critiques, and more than one lunch break spent crying in the supply closet.

You couldn't leave, no matter how much you hated the job and them. Not with the information they held over your head. Tony Stark and Stephen Strange dangled your proverbial freedom in front of you, only to remind you exactly what got you into their employment often enough.

The intercom on your desk beeped incessantly, a tone designed specific to set your teeth on edge. You gathered your tablet and smoothed down your appearance to remove wrinkles from your shirt and trousers. Your shoes clicked across the polished marble floors as you headed towards the demons that controlled your life.

"See less than 60 seconds, I told you the new alarm was more effective, Strange." Mr. Stark grinned as you entered the office.

"Tony, that isn't conclusive," Dr. Strange sighed from the couch, not even looking up from his tablet. "We'd need several more tones and pitches to find the most efficient one."

"If I am done being a lab rat, can I go back to work? Or do you need me for something else?" You snapped, your patience today already paper thin and on the verge of tearing right in half.

Both of their gazes snapped to you before Mr. Stark raised an eyebrow. Your stomach dropped. You shouldn't have said that. You shouldn't have said anything.

"I'd say you're more of a lab bunny, personally." Tony smirked, the sick feeling it always gave you rising from the depths of your guts.

"I like that. Come here, bunny." Dr. Strange snapped his fingers, setting aside the tablet.

You stepped up to the low coffee table and waited. What would he say? Was it going to be your professionalism, your attitude, or would he stoop a bit lower and attack your outfit?

He uncrossed his legs, his foot shoving the corner of the coffee table away before he set it down. He rubbed his palms over his spread legs. Strange sank deeper into the couch and threw his arms over the back of the couch.

"Kneel," he commanded.

"What?" You splutter, voice shaking and fingers gripping your tablet harder.

His gaze sharpened and your breath caught in your throat. "Kneel, bunny, or else we might-"

Your knees hit the carpet, fear clawing at your insides. You hate them. You hate them, but you couldn't stop the zing of anticipation that shot down your spine.

"Always so predictable," Tony hummed from his desk.

Strange looked down at you, an expectant look on his face while he waited for you to do what was expected. Your trousers scraped across the carpet, knees sore already. Your hands shook.

"Go on little bunny, take my cock out."

He sounded so pleased, content with knowledge that couldn't truly consent to these exchanges of powers. It was a suck job or life at that point. You followed orders, no matter how much you wanted to smear that smug look across the table.

Your fingers wrapped around his dick, hot flesh that might as well burn your palm as you began to jerk Strange to full hardness. You lean forward and spit on the head of his cock. The saliva slicked him up enough, but now he was hard and staring into your soul.

Behind you, you heard Stark move, the sound of shoes shuffling across the carpet made goosebumps erupt across your skin.

"Mouth, now." Strange grit his teeth. His eyes flicked over your shoulder for a moment, but they hardened as they looked at you again.

Your lips wrapped around his cock, the taste of him staining your tongue. Stark knelt behind you, watched you suck off his business partner like you were combining atoms. His hands were never empty for long though. As you bobbed your head up and down the length of Strange's cock, Stark touched.

He pulled the hem of your shirt up, touched your skin and teased the waistband of your trousers. He was too close. You could feel the bulge of his cock against your ass as Strange's cock abused the back of your throat.

"See bunny, you always do what you're told because you know we won't hesitate. So why do you keep fighting us?" Stark murmured against your ear. "You like it, don't you?"

You wanted to forget it was your bosses, you wanted to pretend this was something sexy and fun and not sexual favours to keep your life. Your body was on fire either way, an inexplicable feeling that always burned in your blood when they did this. Stark undid your belt, the buttons, the zipper of your trouser clicking open to the cacophony of you choking on Strange's cock. He shoved his hands down between your legs.

"See this makes me think you do like it." He licked behind your ear. Tears welled in your eyes, meeting Strange's. He groaned, his head falling back against the couch. "Just take it so well, bunny."

You paused, your neck and jaw sore from the pace you kept. Strange didn't like that. His hand clamped around the back your neck and shoved your back down.

"Don't fucking dare. You stop when I say so," he hissed.

You choked, nails digging into his thighs, but all he did was moan. He lifted his hips up to meet your mouth. Stark ripped your trousers down and spread your ass cheeks.

"Do it," Strange commanded. "Fuck our bunny. Time to see if those new pills are working."

#sloth asks #boop le snoot #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x reader #stephen strange x reader x tony stark #dark!stephen strange #dark!tony stark #dark fic