#the lack of oxygen bar was inspired

[the-commonplace-book]

sorry babe can't talk too busy swimming with the fontaine fishes

#genshin impact #fontaine #i'm obsessed with the underwater regions #i can't be normal about this #it's so soothing #so calming #so fun #the lack of oxygen bar was inspired #f; genshin

[eksvaized]

[ 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖘 𝖔𝖇𝖘𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓 ] — 12

>> Ghost x Reader, alternative ending

>> 18+

>> this was inspired by the tv show 'you'

THREE HOURS EARLIER

The instant Simon saw you, he knew something was awry. He observed you fumbling with your phone, the uneasy shift in your body as he approached you. Your excuse almost worked; he almost believed that the abrupt change in your behaviour was due to a long day at work. After all, he didn’t have time to take care of your boss because before leaving he was preoccupied with making sure that your friends, mainly Mindy, got the message to stay away from you.

He was headed to the bathroom when his gaze wandered to the office door and he noticed that it was... open. He quietly walked in and immediately he knew.

His was pulled to the note on the table, which you had forgotten to throw away as you ran back to the kitchen. He picked it up before walking over to the shelf. He didn’t need to look inside the box to know that you had peered inside.

For a brief while, his mind was overwhelmed with thoughts. His emotions swung like a pendulum between anger and distress, blending together in a confusing mix.

When he heard you yelling, telling him you were going to the shop, he knew that he couldn’t let you leave this house.

PRESENT

Simon stood in the dark corner of the basement, watching you. You were curled into a ball on the floor, confined in a cell, your face obscured. He could hear your muted whimpers and sobs, and he knew you were crying. He wanted to step inside, to embrace you and help you calm down, but every time he got close to the bars, you would leap up and beg him to stay away from you.

You were fuming when you initially regained consciousness. You were enraged and kept shaking the bars, demanding that he let you free and explain what he had done. Even though you knew the truth deep inside, you needed to hear him say it out loud, to hear him confess, because there was still a part of you that wanted to believe this was just a nightmare from which you would awaken soon.

Simon left you alone in the shed. The cell was frigid, dark, and confined, making you feel as if you were suffocating from a lack of oxygen.

He returned after what appeared to be an eternity.

He didn’t open the cell door, but as he got near, he kneeled and placed a blanket, a pillow, a water bottle, and a book on the floor.

“I have to leave again... I promise I will come back, I won’t abandon you here.” He tried to speak softly, not to startle you, but as his voice reached your ears, your body wanted to coil even tighter into a ball and you refused to raise your head. “I need to do something, but… but when you see me again, I’ll explain everything to you, I will answer all your questions. You’ll realise that everything that happened.. and all I did was for you.”

TWO DAYS LATER

Simon took longer than he had promised to return. And by the time he showed up you were convinced you were going insane.

You attempted to distract yourself by tearing out the pages of the book and folding little flowers out of them because you had nothing better to do.

Then when your fingertips started to ache, and your eyelids started getting heavier, you tried to sleep, too.

But every time you closed your eyes, you couldn’t sleep because all you could think about was that fucking box and how Simon was responsible for ruining your life. You condemned yourself for your ignorance. How could you ever trust him? How could you allow him to touch you with the same hands that killed Matt?

“Do you want me to just explain it all or should I answer your questions first?” He asked, but you remained silent.

You didn’t want to talk because you knew you’d say something you’d later regret, something that would enrage him, and the last thing you wanted to do was aggravate him. Your only hope of getting out of here was to persuade him that nothing had changed after what you found in his office - you were still in love with him.

“Yes, I killed Matt, but only because I had no other option. If you had heard how he talked about you... He saw you as a dumb girl, whom he could manipulate and who, he knew, never rejected him because she was starving for attention. And I knew it wasn’t true; you are more than that, and if he couldn’t see it, he had to be erased from the picture.”

It pained you to hear that, but it didn't justify Simon ending someone's life.

“Your friends… I didn’t do anything to them. I just dug up some old pictures that Mandy tried to hide and used them to make her stay away from you... so that’s why your friends began avoiding you.. I know you believe I had no right to do that, but Y/N, they held you down, and you were only there for their amusement.”

Also, he told you about how he broke into your house, which made you want to throw up, thinking about how many times he might have been there, watching you, going through your stuff while you were completely unaware of his presence inside your home.

Simon described how he fell in love with you the moment he saw you. He knew you were special, and he knew he had to have you no matter how long it took or what he had to do.

A WEEK LATER

You were still in a cell, but after the initial shock, you could gather your thoughts and create an escape plan.

You started talking more; you stopped ignoring Simon, and you could see that he was still distrustful, but the relief and joy in his eyes whenever you opened your mouth, even if it was to ask for water or tell him you were hungry, was palpable.

You stopped begging him to let you out. You knew it was pointless because you needed to earn his trust first, to convince him that you wouldn’t tell anybody about what had occurred and that you still loved him.

“I know you don’t want to let me go home yet.” You said while folding a flower. At this point, you were running out of pages, but this helped you to stay calm and keep your voice from trembling. “But maybe.. we could.. you could take me outside? I’m not going to flee, I’m not going to leave your side, I’m not even going to move, but I just need to get some fresh air because I feel like I’m suffocating in here.”

That night he denied your request, but the next morning you awoke to find him unlocking the cell. He tied your hands, telling you how he doesn’t want to do this, but he has to, just in case.

“This place is in the middle of nowhere.” He said as you climbed out of the basement. It felt like he was giving you a warning, telling you not to act stupid because he could sense that your thoughts were racing at a thousand miles per hour as your eyes darted around.

“I’m not going to run.” You promised and even forced yourself to step closer and kiss him on the cheek.

You were outside for an hour.

He made you sit down on the ground, cross your legs and put your tied-up hands in your lap, while he towered over you, not letting his eyes wander. You could see nothing except a curtain of thick trees and a dusty road that seemed to lead nowhere as you looked around.

Running would be foolish, but you thought it was your only option. You refused to die in that cell, and you refused to return and allow him to lock you up again.

So, when Simon turned his head for a split second, you stumbled to your feet. Your hands were tied in front of you, and you didn’t have time to loosen the ropes, so you just ran.

With every ounce of speed you could muster, the chilling wind sent shivers down your spine as you raced ahead, your senses heightened and your body in constant motion. You could hear him shouting at you to stop but even though your legs hurt and your entire body ached, you refused to let him catch you.

But Simon was faster. He was tenacious, and after what felt like an eternity, two arms wrapped around you and a body collided with you. You struggled, kicking your feet, attempting to bite him and scream, but a hand clasped over your mouth.

He dragged you back. You could see the wrath in his eyes and feel his taut body against yours as you looked over your shoulder.

You kept attempting to get free, but it wasn’t because you were trying to flee anymore; it was because you were running out of air.

His one arm was tightly wrapped around your neck, pinching your throat. You tried screaming and yelling for him to release you since you couldn’t breathe, but he couldn’t comprehend what you were saying because his palm was still clamped to your lips.

Simon couldn’t hear, couldn’t think, and the sole thought going through his head was how dumb he was for trusting you.

You weren’t prepared to confront the facts just yet. You couldn’t tell he wanted to make your life simpler. But he still loved you, and he was ready to keep you imprisoned in the basement for as long as it took you to realise that everything he did was for you.

You stopped resisting, but he didn’t loosen his grip until you were back in the cell.

He forced you to sit on the floor, but as his arms unwound, your body collapsed. He knelt to look at you, his eyes widening as he observed your pale face.

You weren’t breathing.

He checked your pulse before his fingers curled around your shoulders, and he began shaking you violently.

“Wake up, wake up..!” Words spilt out of him like a desperate prayer. “Stop playing! Stop pretending, Y/N!” His rage had given way to remorse. He refused to acknowledge that you weren’t moving.

Simon didn’t dare to admit that he killed you.

He eventually took a step back, allowing your body to tumble to the ground once more. He stood up and saw your head fall into a mound of neatly folded paper flowers.

He was at a loss for what to do. A sense of emptiness washed over his body, leaving him feeling numb, while his mind remained devoid of any coherent thoughts.

But the quiet voice in his head, the blackness that encompassed his body, wrapping around him like a warm blanket, kept whispering into his ear that this was always going to end this way.

You were never meant to be his.

In accepting Simon into your life, you unknowingly sealed your fate as another victim of his, unable to withstand the darkness that lurked within him.

#PoisonousObsession:Ghost #cod #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #writing #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n

[silverslipstream]

Hi, happy WBW Jeb! What are popular snacks to-go in your universe? Are they sweet or savoury? Maybe eating in rush is seen as a lack of manners?

Happy WBW Flock, thanks for the ask!

I'll be honest, I haven't thought much about this! Most snack foods in space are dehydrated and/or vacuum-packed to save weight, as well as being soft and chewy. Crunchy, sauce or juice-rich and brittle foods are hellish to clean in zero-gravity! One of the main snacks aboard the Dowager Caroline during Earth-Luna transit is something called a slash or dual-bar: inspired by the idea of Cornish mining 'pasties', the dual-bar is a soft, rectangular slab, usually served cold, that actually combines sweet and savoury foods. One half has a savoury filling (usually consisting of dried meat, cheese or processed vegetables) and the other is filled with sweet food, like chocolate or a custard bar. Main meals are similar to microwave meals, served in a covered tray to avoid spillage with a small slot for actually pulling the food through. Zero-waste policies are very important in space, so the trays are cleaned and reused between meal packs.

Another interesting thing to note is newcomers' general distaste for hot drinks on the Moon. All lunar cities' atmospheres are comprised of pure oxygen at 20% of Earth's air pressure: a method used in real-life spacecraft to give the right amount of oxygen for human respiration while minimising pressure on hulls. Unfortunately, because of the lower pressure, water boils at a lower temperature - 61 degrees Celsius as opposed to 100. Physics rules that people unused to lunar beverages consider this unappetisingly cold for things like coffee and tea.

#worldbuilding wednesday #wbw #wbw answers #wip: white sky

[jenn-art-station]

Weekly Video Review #4

1.  VOICE OVER

https://vimeo.com/58150375

The artist shows three cases where time is urgent, making the viewer feel very tense and frustrated. Spaces and actions that transcend human limits, such as a lack of oxygen on the moon, a situation in which a leg was cut during the war, a situation in which a person fell into the water but was tied with a rope, make viewers adapt to the situation. But it was all a means to express the first kiss. The artist uses the above three situations to express the excitement of a young child before their first kiss and the heart after their first kiss. so awesome! Come to think of it, even my first kiss couldn't breathe as the artist expressed it. It will be one of the best moments of my life!

2.  The Gunfighter | A Short Film by Eric Kissack (narrated by Nick Offerman)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cWs4WA--eKU

Set in the Western era, a man enters a bar. The narrator tells the obvious story, but people communicate with the narrator and say they will not act as the obvious story. The story unfolds through constant communication between the narrator and people. I want this video to be subtitled Ballet of Death. People end up shooting each other and killing each other because of the narrator's words. And only women survive. It was an unnecessary gunfight because of the voice. Very fun and I recommend it to everyone!

3.  Wanderers - a short film by Erik Wernquist

https://vimeo.com/108650530

This is a video explaining the considerations of people living in space. I was able to see artistic images of the universe and planets while watching this video. It also gave people an opportunity to think about where they came from and where they are going, why they should live, and what it means to live. The artist shows us the universe, a vast and unknown world, and defines us as wanderers. How do wanderers who live and die short lives compared to the universe live despite their short lives?

4.  Luis | Future Shorts

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=veMBIWv0ews

The technique of cleaning the room when a voice blew in the wind or cleaning the sofa when the shouting was peculiar. I felt terrified and creepy throughout watching the video. Also, it was so amazing that the picture about the story was drawn on the wall and that the artist used the stop motion technique. It really inspired me a lot. Did this video express the artist's angry inner self? It was very scary, but it was interesting!

5.  Maybe One Day | Future Shorts

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fn0lhsXHEhc

In our daily routine that repeats itself, at least once in our lives, we think of what we want to do someday. At the beginning of the video, the expressionless protagonist, who lives a repeating daily life, makes very different expressions when imagining the day he wants. The protagonist inspires himself and achieves it in his head. This video expresses a day that people want to live at least once in line with busy modern people.

6.  Losers | Future Shorts

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0R6VE0i1Zt4

This is a video about the bullying issue. A true loser is the one who is bullied, not the one being bullied. The perpetrator hurts their hearts by saying bad things to the victim. The power of words is strong. You can completely change a person's life or take control of that person's mind. Perpetrators take the act lightly because they are only having fun or attacking a target to unleash their anger. But by doing that, you become a loser.

[the-modern-typewriter]

Hi, your writing is my favorite thing in the whole wide world (and inspired me to write my own hero/villain story). Could you do something with a hero visiting a captured villain who was blinded in their final fight? Thanks!

The villain tensed, at the sound of their footsteps. It was a subtle thing; a hardening of the jaw, a tightening of the shoulders, a stilling of form like a deer in a forest that thought it heard the crack and rustle of a wolf in the undergrowth.

The hero stopped in the threshold of the room, because despite the security at the end of the corridor, that was what it was. A room. No cell, no bars, no shackles. No pit for titans, never to be seen again. The villain was no threat anymore.

But there was a guilt to them that hadn't been there before.

They'd planned a dozen different ways to start talking. In the end, they settled on: "hi." It came out hoarse.

The villain's jaw clenched harder, like they might grind their teeth down entirely.

"I brought, er," the hero fumbled. "I bought you some music. The guards said I could. They said you were having trouble sleeping, and music always helps me when I can't sleep, so-"

"Was it worth it?"

The hero's mouth snapped shut.

The villain had the ability to see secrets with a glance. Or, at least, they did. They used to.

"Was blinding me worth it?" the villain pressed. "Does it make you feel safe?"

The hero had expected that question. They had. They exhaled a steadying breath, all the same. "It makes me feel safer, knowing you're not about to tell anyone the current nuclear missile codes, yeah. That was the point. It's not like I did it for funsies. Is that what you think?"

"That you did it for fun?" The villain's lip curled, as they mused. "No. I know you were scared. I know the nightmares you have, or had. I was just wondering if maybe it had stopped. For one of us, at least. That's the point of winning, isn't it?"

The hero had absolutely no idea what they said to that. They sighed, heavily and moved to the villain's side. They sat down beside them.

"Do you feel freer?"

"Is that a joke?" The villain's head turned, mostly, in their direction. Following the hero's voice.

"No. Maybe. I don't know." The hero looked down. "Sometimes I wish I didn't see so much."

The villain laughed, at that, sour.

"I'm not-" the hero began, mortified.

"I know," the villain snapped; softer and more annoyed all at once. Then, quieter. "I know." They reached out a hand, finding the hero's, and squeezing. "No. Everyone still has questions. Everyone still wants to know. Especially about you."

"Is that why you asked me to come?"

The villain stayed silent, for a moment. "It hasn't stopped for you, has it? They just want to point you at another guilty party."

The hero had the ability to see guilt. Sins. The shadows that clung to the corners of the world and its people. One glance was all it took to get the feeling; the weight of someone's conscious. The villain had always felt so shockingly light, so remorseless about everything. It was like getting a gasp of clean air in smog, a mouthful of oxygen when drowning. It was all wrong, too. They knew what the villain had done. They knew the secrets they had traded in. The villain simply didn't feel guilt about any of that.

"I told them about you," the villain said. "Everything they wanted to know, in return for a new life. New identity. They're releasing me at the end of the week. For that, and my silence. I don't need to see them to know they're never going to let you go, no matter what they promised you."

The guilt still buzzed like flies on the villain's aura; a poor consolation. The hero closed their eyes. They missed that lack of guilt, somehow. Even if the guilt that the villain carried was for them alone.

"It's okay," they managed. "I mean, fair play. I suppose. Given. You know." They started to gesture, before remembering that of course the villain couldn't see it.

The villain pulled the hero's knuckles up to their mouth, and kissed their healing fingers, just once.

"None of this," the villain said, "has ever been okay."

#writing #heroes and villains #villains and heroes #hero #villain #story #short story #fiction #fic #creative writing

[kagayguri]

Just A Nightmare

A yandere!touya x reader inspired by @drabbledealer

gender neutral reader

WARNINGS: choking, manipulation, implied drugging + kidnapping, yandere themes

again might make a second part/prologue part if this gets attention

You could feel the tears piling up in the corner of your eyes as the hand around your neck only grew tighter, yet the thing that cornered you in the dark alley showed no mercy or hesitation whatsoever.

Thing. without even noticing that was what you referred the one in front of you, and it was quite fitting to him; the look in his patch-filled face could not possibly belong to any human.

It was filled with rage and desperation harmed by something else you couldn’t figure out, something sickly.

As your vision gets even blurrier from the tears and lack of oxygen, you feel the hand on your throat loosen and feel your limp body fell to the ground with a thump.

You tried to run, scream, anything but it was like you were drained of energy and unable to pull away when he cupped your cheek.

“I’m sorry doll, you left me no choice” he whispered, taking out something that resembled a syringe.

And with the sharp pain in your arm, your vision was gone.

“!”

You woke up, sweaty and throat sore. You could feel the softness of a couch underneath you but you didn’t remember laying down to rest.

“Are you okay doll? Did you had a nightmare again?”

You turned to be greeted by turquoise eyes, the face of the male was familiar. You recall his name being Touya and meeting him at a bar, later on starting to notice him around a lot. Though it didn’t answered why he was here.

“Again..?” Your voice was raspy and it hurt to talk but you had to get answers.

“The doctors did tell that after the incident your memory would be damaged but I didn’t thought it would be that bad..”

You started to slightly panic, incident? Memory damage? He talked as if you were supposed to know all of these already and he had sadness in his voice for your situation.

Seeing the look on your face, he gently pulled you towards him in a embrace as he patted your back comfortingly.

“It’s late, why don’t you try to fall asleep again and I will explain everything later ok?”

Something told you to pull away and run as far as you can but with how warm and comforting he appeared to be, you didn’t find the power to do so.

It was not if you won’t be able to leave anytime later right?

And as you fall asleep Touya’s gentle smile morphed into something sickening, the drug was really as strong as they told him it was. To get you as close as this…

Who would’ve thought an anger fit would end up such a sweet way ♡?

#idk what I think about this one but anyways #bnha #mha #dabi x you #dabi x reader #touya todoroki #touya x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader

[babyboibucky]

Kinda Like It When You Lie

Pairing: Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Summary: You discover the reason why Chris has been lying to you about his whereabouts.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: le smut, le angst, le toxicity but a sorta happy ending I guess???

A/N: I tagged everyone in my Everything Bucky tag list because why not lmfao okay but no, I’m not sure how often I will be writing fics for Seb’s other characters so I won’t be having a separate tag list for that yet. If this isn’t something you’re not interested in, feel free to ignore skskks

I am dedicating this piece to @lookiamtrying​ who got so pissed off that her mans Chris got a lower vote count than Mickey (prior to the release of Monday) when I did my character fic survey lmfao ilysm, Mina!!! This was also inspired by FLETCHER’s If You’re Gonna Lie

MAIN MASTERLIST

Chris kissed you as if it was his last day on earth. It made your insides twist in a blissful way, the kind of kiss that literally took your breath away and made your head spin. You could feel your lungs burning up from the lack of oxygen and yet you didn’t want to pull away.

All you could focus on was how his lips moved against yours, how his tongue danced around your mouth as if he owned you. And in that moment, he really did.

You got lost in Chris— his taste, his rough palms against the smooth expanse of your skin, his weight on top of you as he pressed you down against the cheap motel bed.

It wasn’t until you tried to touch Chris that you realized he had restrained your wrists with something cold and hard. Pulling away from his fervent kiss, you glanced up and saw that he had both of your wrists handcuffed against the headboard.

Tugging at your wrists, you let out a chuckle. “What’re ya, a cop?” you asked.

Chris breathed out through his nose, “Kinda.” he rasped out before taking your bottom lip in between his teeth, tugging at it before sliding his tongue back into your mouth.

You moaned into the kiss and opened up your legs to fully accommodate Chris’ huge build, his pelvis thrusting against your clothed core making you whine against his lips.

“You gonna arrest me or somethin’?” you asked playfully, tilting your neck to the side as you allowed Chris to nip at your skin, his thick beard scratching you much to your delight.

He pulled back to look at your eyes, “Only for stealin’ my heart, darling.”

-

What you thought was a one-night stand turned into something more. Not that you were complaining, in fact, you’d quickly fallen head over heels for Chris. How could you not when he was the most honest man you’d met in your entire life?

After that first night, Chris told you everything about him and his job. An FBI agent who needed to go undercover as a drug dealer in order to infiltrate a huge drug syndicate. He had been undercover for a while now and it was consuming, he said. That’s how you found him drinking alone at the bar you worked at.

“You planning to consume our entire stock of beers or what?”

Chris let out a breathy chuckle as you placed two more bottles of beer on his table. The man had been in the bar for hours now, drowning his miseries away since his arrival. You noticed him as soon as he sauntered into the bar— all beard and tattooed muscles on display with the denim vest he wore.

“I’m sorry.” he huffed out and you were surprised at how soft spoken he was despite his tough exterior. “Work’s been stressing me out, is all.” He explained with a firm smile.

You couldn’t help but return the gesture, “Thought you were stressin’ over your girl.” You smirked.

Chris narrowed his eyes at you, tongue darting out to lick his lower lip. “Got no girl to come home to.” He said, voice an octave lower and a little bit rougher.

You bit your lip and shrugged, “Man like you can easily find a solution to that.” You said and winked before heading back behind the bar, swaying your hips a little more than the usual.

By the time you reached the bar, you looked back at Chris and caught him staring with a certain look in his eyes.

The same look he would give you whenever you get mad at him for coming home late. The look that always won you over no matter what.

-

“You said you’d be home by eight, Chris. That was four hours ago.”

Chris rubbed his face and dropped his keys on the tray by the front door. You watched him with suspecting eyes as he trudged towards you, eyes tired yet apologetic.

“‘m sorry, sweetheart. Went out with the guys, you know how it is.” he said and tried to reach out to you but you were quick to step back.

“Could’ve texted me, y’know? I made dinner, your favorite. Got cold and decided to throw it in the bin when you didn’t show up.” you said, shaking your head in disappointment and turned around to retreat back into the bedroom.

Chris caught you and gripped your waist in his strong hands, preventing you from further walking away. He pulled your back against his chest, nuzzling his face into your neck as he whispered apologies into your ear.

“I’m sorry, babe. Let me make it up to you, huh?” he murmured roughly into your ear. “Wanna make you feel good, make you forget my sins.” he teased, earning a soft chuckle from you.

He sucked the skin beneath your earlobe, making your knees weak and your core throb. Chris gently turned you around to face him until your eyes met his-- dark and still apologetic, you wondered why because you’d already forgiven him the moment his hands touched your skin.

Your question was immediately forgotten when Chris kissed you, tongue quickly finding its way into your mouth. His kisses were always so urgent, so hungry and feral.

He always kissed you as if it was the last time.

Clothes strewn everywhere, raspy grunts and high pitched moans, sweaty bodies moving against each other. Every single time you and Chris argued, it always ended the same way, with you giving in to his sweet words and hot touches.

A hand on your nape kept your cheek pressed down onto the mattress as Chris pounded you from behind. Laying flat on your stomach, you could feel every ridge and every vein of his cock as it dragged against your walls. Gripping the sheets tightly, your knuckles turned white as you slightly lifted your ass up earning a harsh spank from Chris.

“You fuckin’ like it when I fuck you rough?” he growled, spanking your ass again before squeezing it into his large hand.

You whimpered at the cold sensation of the rings on Chris’ fingers, wanting it to mark your skin as soon as he was done with you. You moaned when Chris pulled back until only the tip of his hard cock remained in your tight pussy. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes when he pushed your nape further into the mattress at the same time he slammed back in with such force that made you elicit a sound akin to a wail.

“Right there, Chris!” you wantonly pleaded, your drool soaking the sheets beneath you.

“I got you, baby. Gonna fuck you so good you’d forget what you were mad about.”

And forget you did, not just once, not twice. Not even thrice. Every single time Chris came home to you smelling like someone else’s perfume when he claimed to be out with his friends, you always ended up willingly forgetting about it. Chris had you wrapped around his finger and you knew it.

You knew he was lying about his whereabouts and the thing was, you chose to believe in it.

Because with each lie that slipped past his lips, came the sweetest apology followed by a promise to make you feel good and Chris always delivered.

You’d rather hear Chris’ lies than to hear his goodbye just so you can have him in your bed again and again and again.

-

The last lie you tolerated was when he forgot about your anniversary and came home the next day, all moody and grumpy. He went straight to the bathroom, mumbling about how he was tired from work and you didn’t know whether he was lying again or not.

You’d believed too many of his lies by now that you couldn’t even determine which ones were the truth and which ones weren’t.

“Happy anniversary to us, Chris. In case you forgot.” you said as soon as he got out of the shower.

Chris’ face fell, eyes refusing to meet yours from shame. He should be ashamed and so should you, because you’ve tolerated his lies for a year now and no matter how much you wanted to confront him, you always ended up forgiving him.

“Fuck.” he cursed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that...the buy bust operation was last night and it slipped my mind.” he said.

And there it was again, the look in his eyes that turned you into a moaning mess beneath him as soon as his lips found yours. Whenever Chris would lie, it always seemed to be so fucking worth it. Because he always fucked you senseless until you were stupid for him, enough to let him get away with his pathetic excuses.

But not tonight, because as Chris bent you in half with his cock slipping in and out of your wet cunt, you promised that this will be the last time you’d enjoy the aftermath of his lies.

“Come on, baby. Give me one more. Want this pussy to milk my cock dry, c’mon pretty girl.” he urged, slipping a hand in between your sweaty bodies, his thumb swiping at your clit until stars exploded behind your eyes.

His name was chanted out like a prayer, your lips red and swollen from being kissed and bitten. A few more hard thrusts and you felt Chris spill his seed into you, warm ropes of his cum painting your walls. He carefully slipped your legs off from his shoulders before laying down on top of you, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your chest as the both of you caught on your breaths.

“Where were you last night?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Chris turned his head to you, trying to read your face but you kept your gaze on the ceiling. Tears escaped your eyes as you laid on the bed, blinking them away when they wouldn’t stop spilling.

“I want the truth, Chris.” you added, wiping your tears with the back of your hand.

The bed moved when Chris sat up, reaching for your face and turning it to wards him. Your lips were trembling, fighting back your sob. Chris closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I’m sorry.” he said.

“I don’t want your apology, Chris. I want the truth, please.” you begged.

“I can’t stay with you anymore.” he said.

You frowned and sat up, bringing the sheets up to cover your naked body. “Who’s she?” you asked. “I know you’ve been seein’ someone behind my back, I want to know. Who is she? ‘nother FBI agent? Or someone you met while you were undercover?” you were more of mad than hurt now, all your suppressed emotions finally resurfacing and begging to be released.

Chris swallowed and refused to meet your gaze, “It’s...it’s not like that.” he said.

“The fuck you mean, Chris?” you asked.

There was silence for a brief moment, as if Chris was gathering up all the courage he had left in him. And then he looked at you with the same guilty, apologetic eyes again. But it was different now because you knew that there wouldn’t be anymore lies which meant no more sweet talk and no more Chris in your bed until the next morning.

“I never cheated on you.” he huffed out. “I’ve always been...with Erin.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were a part of my undercover. The leader of the drug syndicate I was trying to infiltrate frequented the bar you worked at. Needed to get as much as information as I can and I easily got that when we started—”

Your hand trembled after landing a solid slap on Chris’ face. Your heart ached, your vision spun and suddenly, nothing made any sense to you anymore. All this time, you thought that was Chris was being unfaithful to you when in truth, he was cheating…with you.

Now you finally understood why he always kissed you as if it was the last time, why he looked at you with those apologetic eyes whenever he came home late, whenever he lied.

Chris told you the entire truth, that he was at the bar during an operation and not after. He manipulated you into believing that everything he told you were real, that he was a good and an honest man, that Erin was nothing but a partner at work.

“When you said you love me, was that a lie too?” you asked, voice breaking because this was too much. Everything was too much.

Chris held your face in between his hands, rubbing his thumbs across your cheeks, “No. No, that wasn’t a lie. I do, I love you. As soon as the operation was done, I couldn’t say goodbye. I always said I’d tell you the truth but I couldn’t. I wish I hadn’t met you like this.” he reassured.

You pushed him away and covered your face with your hands, unable to believe that for an entire year, you’d dedicated your life and your love to someone who had been using you.

“Does she know about me?” you asked.

Chris nodded, “She does.”

You scoffed, “She fuckin’ pities me, doesn’t she? Probably told you to take your time, ‘cause the truth will fuckin’ ruin me.” you said and chuckled bitterly.

“You used me, Chris. Fuckin’ used me and made me a goddamn fool. Is Chris even your real name? Who the fuck are you?” you asked.

“I lied about everything except for two things. My name and when I said I love you.”

You shook your head, wiping away your tears. You’ve finally woken up, brought yourself back to consciousness and decided to accept that Chris was never honest and that not once did he become yours.

“Liar.”

-

Picking up the pieces of your broken trust was very much like working with the shards of a broken mirror. At times you came out unscathed but for the most part, you were left wounded and bleeding and in pain.

Putting all the broken pieces back together was definitely not easy and it took you years to do so. No matter how careful you were though, the mirror was never completed. There were ugly cracks and everywhere that you couldn’t hide and there was a missing piece. But that’s alright, because you tried to put yourself back together and you weren’t perfect but at least you did your best.

The bar you started working for was quite new, which explained how busy it was even on a slow Wednesday. It wasn’t as big as the old bar you used to work at, but this was newer and catered to a more classy crowd.

No rough bikers, no FBI agents going undercover, no funny businesses.

“Two bottles of beer for table seven.” your manager called out, “Thought it’d be slow today, boy was I wrong.” she commented to which you chuckled.

Taking out two ice-cold bottles from the fridge, you weaved through the crowd and tables until you reached your destination. Placing the bottles on top of the table, you asked the customer if he wanted to order something to go with his drinks.

Taking out your notepad, you finally looked up and was met with a pair of familiar blue eyes. You almost didn’t recognize Chris if it weren’t for those eyes. He was no longer sporting a buzz cut and had longer locks, his beard had grown out but was well-trimmed. His tattooed arms weren’t in full display and instead of the usual denim outfits he wore, he was merely clad in a plaid, maroon button down shirt.

“Hi.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “Let me guess, you’re undercover and your target is a frequent customer here.” you said.

Chris laughed mirthlessly and shook his head, “I quit from that job years ago.” he said, much to your surprise.

“You stressin’ over your girl?” you asked.

“Got no girl to come home to...anymore.” Chris replied, those damn apologetic eyes making your knees weak once again.

You rolled your eyes at him and placed your notepad back in your apron, “If you’ve nothin’ else to order, then enjoy your beer. I guess.” you said and turned around but was quickly tugged back when Chris grabbed at your wrist.

Scowling at him, you eyed his hand and then back up at his eyes. They didn’t look apologetic though, you realized, he was giving you the same look but something was different.

You just didn’t know what changed.

“I did love you.” he said. “And I still do and I want to come home to you again.” he quickly added, tightening his grip around your wrist as if he was afraid to let you go.

Surprisingly, there was not an ounce of anger left in your heart. It had been a complete three years since the incident. He left you feeling used and broken but you managed to fix yourself. Not completely, but enough to find it in your heart to forgive Chris for what he did.

“I want to believe you, I really do. But it’s hard for me to do that now.” you explained.

Chris nodded in understanding, “I know but I want to start over again. Make things right, if you’d let me. No lies this time, just me and my truth.” he said, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the inside of your wrist.

Honesty. Pure and genuine honesty— that’s what changed in the way Chris looked at you. There wasn’t any guilt in there anymore, no hidden agendas and whatnot.

Just the truth and the missing piece you never knew you needed to complete your mirror.

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @im-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure​ @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky​

#bbb writes #oneshots: destroyer!chris #destroyer!chris #destroyer!chris x reader #destroyer!chris x you #destroyer!chris angst #destroyer!chris smut #sebastian stan

[ukaisprincesss]

a/n: happy birthday to the one and only 😌

word count: 2.8k

semi-edited

———————————————————————

warnings: *inhales* 18+ smut, reader obsessed with dabi, quirk use, degradation, betrayal, oral m!recieving, name calling, dumification if you squint, dabi with a dick piercing, cursing, very minor blood mention, deep throating, slight violence, implied fighting, humiliation, smoking, inaccurate timeline, mind control kinda, choking, slightly insane reader, fingering, breeding kink if you squint

“Bye y/n! See you later for training!” Izuku waved at you with a grin on his face. You waved back before turning around and taking the route home. Your third year at UA was almost over, sometimes it felt like you were still a first year marveling at the wonders UA held for you.

Humming your favorite song Hero Too, you skipped along the sidewalk taking in the sounds and smells around you. This invoked a new melody inside you, your quirk taking over. You let out peals of notes inspired by your surroundings.

Your quirk, Melody, enabled you to use your surroundings and inspirations to create songs and tunes. You could use these tunes to overload the enemy with your inspiration. If you were inspired by a certain smell and the enemy heard you singing, that smell would invade your enemies scent overwhelmingly so. The same applies to their other 4 senses.

You always made sure no one was in range when you used your quirk to sing, you learned that the hard way as a kid.

Hmm, maybe you should stop and get something to eat. You only had a light lunch and still had a few hours before dinner. Deciding to get some Yakitori from a nearby stand, you changed direction and walked into town. The noises and smells were more harsh now, making it a bit difficult to not activate your quirk. Years of practice has helped you keep a hold on it, particularly when you’re in cities or at get togethers.

“Thanks!” you said to the woman working the stand, you handed over the respectable cost and searched for a good place to eat. Seeing a lone bench against a graffiti covered wall, you made your way toward it nibbling on your food. Before you could take your seat you were pulled backward and your vision went dark. A large hand covered your eyes.

“Guess who?” A husky voice spoke in your ear, cold staples brushed against your face sending a shiver up your spine. Your heart pounded in your chest as you let out a shaky breath. You kicked your lips before speaking. “Dabi...what are you doing here?”

Removing his hand you turned towards him, placing your hands on his chest. You stared into his icy eyes, the spark of emotion only present for you sent your heart soaring. He leaned down to press his lips against yours. Licking along your lips, he thrusted his tongue to entangle with yours. You let him take control, gripping his hair as you sunk into a lust filled haze. There was just something about Dabi that made you want to carry the world for him. You would do anything for him.

Dabi pulled away, you whined and leaned forward for more. He gripped your jaw, holding you in place. “You didn’t forget did you y/n?” He muttered, a frown on his face. You shook your head, smiling at him with adoration.

“Happy birthday baby, I was going to surprise you later but...it seems like you couldn’t stay away from me for too long.” You giggled and missed the flash of annoyance in his eyes. You thoroughly believed the villain was just as infatuated with you as you were him.

“Hm, yeah thank you. Anything new happen? When’s your next trip out of UA?” He questioned. What you didn’t realize was he was getting intel for the League of Villains. You thought he just wanted to know about your day and schedule. You were aware of the villainous role he played in the League of Villains, but that didn’t stop you from loving him. “Well, nothing yet but Mr.Aizawa won’t be here for the next few days. Izuku and I have some extra training tonight around 8 by the old wareh-”

You were cut off when Dabi pushed you to your knees, clearly hearing enough. “You know what to do y/n, I think it’s time for my birthday gift.” He looked down at you with a regal stare, effectively turning you on. Your pussy tingled as you rubbed your thighs together, eager to please the man you worshipped. You unbutton his pants and slide them down to land around his feet. His cock slapped your face, you were prepared as he usually went commando. You practically drooled at the sight, to you it was perfect. A large vein on the underside of his cock reaching the silver barbell that lay underneath his large mushroom head.

“What are you waiting for? Do your job slut.” Dabi looked down at you, teeth bared in irritation. You let out a purr of amusement and stroked his dick, pressing kitten licks along the head. Dabi huffed in annoyance, fisting your hair. “Stop teasing,” he muttered. You looked up with wide eyes, slowly taking his large cock into your mouth. No matter how many times you’ve sucked him off, you could never take his whole length by yourself. Relaxing your jaws as best as you could, you pushed your head forward and started to gag. You didn’t even have half of his cock in your mouth, you whined in disappointment and squeezed his thigh.

“God you’re fucking useless, I’ll have to get myself off as I always do.” Dabi growled and grabbed your head with both his hands, shoving his dick down your throat. You choked and gurgled, drool spilling out the sides of your mouth. The humiliation of not being able to please him hurt more than your mouth being stuffed with his cock. Maybe he didn’t mean it, maybe he just wasn’t in the mood. You were brought out of your head as the lack of oxygen kicked in. You struggled to keep your mouth around his cock, your mind telling you to pull back for air. No, you had to please him.

“You better not pull back whore, you’ll regret it.” Dabi gritted out, inhaling sharply. He threw his head back and let out a loud moan, not caring who could hear.

You willed yourself to hold out for a bit longer, but soon it was too much. You wrenched your head back with a gasp, breathing in heavy gulps of air. Tears trailed down your cheeks, you sniffed and looked up, taking his cock back into your mouth. Twirling your tongue around the head, right hand stroking the base of his cock and the other fondling his balls.

“Fuck y/n, that’s it, just like that. You suck my cock so good, my little cock sucker.” Dabi grinned, laying down more lewd words that went straight to your cunt. You could feel your juices slick your panties, your throbbing clit begging for attention. Hollowing your cheeks, you bobbed up and down his cock , his moans of pleasure spurring you on. Dabi came with a grunt, shoving his cock deep in your mouth, sending his seed down your throat. You swallowed as quick as you could, his large load burning your throat. He slowly pulled out, excess drool and cum covering his dick.

You sat up on shaky legs, the grit from the ground beneath you had dug into your knees and left small dots of blood and dirt marks. “Is it my turn now Dabi?” You asked excitedly, cunt throbbing at the thought of his long talented tongue.

He pulled up his pants and lit a cigarette with the tip of his finger. Dabi inhaled and let the nicotine run through him. He sure needed it after that. Turning to you, he blew it on your face, smirking as you let out a series of coughs.

“You know I hate when you do that.” You whined.

“Yeah, I know.” Dabi retaliated, taking another drag. “It’s time for you to leave, I have things to do.” He quickly brushed a scarred hand across your cheek and walked down the empty alley before you even had a chance to whine. You huffed angrily and dusted off your knees before grabbing your bag that fell in a suspiciously green puddle. It was upsetting having Dabi leave so soon, especially on his birthday. But if everything went right, you would see him soon again.

When you arrived home you took a shower and lounged around, waiting for the clock to hit 8. That was when you and Deku were going to train in a place where you could let your quirks out. You had to be in top shape for an upcoming infiltration mission. Your quirk was extremely useful in these situations, having only three limits. Whenever one of your senses were blocked, you couldn’t use that sense on other people. If your vocal cords are restricted in some way, then you wouldn’t be able to sing. Range being the last. If someone couldn’t hear you, your quirk didnt affect them.

It wasn’t long before your phone went off, alerting you that you had an hour before it was time to meet with your friend. You sat up and stretched, crumbs falling off your shirt from your snacks. Your mind drifted to Dabi again as you cleaned up the living area and put your costume on. You couldn’t shake the feeling that he was acting a bit odd, did you really piss him off that much? Shaking that thought away, you made sure you had everything and took the short walk to your destination.

~

“Are you sure about this?” Shigaraki hissed, not trusting the young adult one bit. Dabi threw his head back in exasperation. “Come on now, you assigned me to her in the first place. She’s fucking dense and tells me everything. Are we going or not?” Dabi’s insult to you hid his true feelings well. For the most part he saw you as only a pawn in the grand scheme of things, something he would chuck aside when the time came. But he couldn’t deny that small twinge of attention you took from him that manifested into something bigger.

“Of course we’re going!” Shigaraki slammed his cracked fist on the bar counter. “I won’t get another opportunity like this any time soon. Gather everyone and let’s go.”

~

“Hey Izuku!” You jogged towards your friend who sat on a bench waiting for your arrival. His fluffy green hair reassuring you it was him. Hearing his name being called, he looked up from his book and greeted you. “Oh, hey y/n! You’re a bit early.” You nodded and laughed, standing in front of him. “I was just sitting around so I wanted to come quick and train. I want to try out that new strategy of yours.” Izuku nodded and stood up. The two of you stretched and began practicing some light moves.

You failed to notice the pair of turquoise eyes on you, beckoning you forward. Dabi turned to Shigaraki and said, “Have dark hole over there warp me behind y/n. She doesn’t see me.” Shigaraki stared at the boy before turning towards Kurogiri. Kurogiri stepped forward and warped a portal in front of Dabi.

“Step in,” he instructured.

Dabi stepped through, hands lit with blue flames.

y/n and Izuku had briefly stopped their training to catch their breath. If the villians had taken an extra moment to pay close attention, they would’ve caught y/n’s moving throat and the low pitched noise that met their ears. You were singing.

The moment Dabi warped behind you, before he could even reach out, heroes from all around struck upon the Shigaraki and the others. The unprepared villains bunkered in a nearby abandoned building desperately fell on the defense as the wave of heroes blocked their exits. Kurogiri was the first one secured.

“Well would you like at that?” Dabi hissed, the faintest sign of nerves present. “Time for us to leave sugar.” Sending a burst of flames to the green-haired boy who was racing around the two, Dabi secured his grip on you and raced away.

“Dabi over there!” You cried out, clutching his shoulders. You pointed to an old warehouse that was used for quirk experimentation back in the day. A large padlocked fence holed it in. He scaled the fence with ease and darted around the side. Vaulting through a broken window, he set you down and peered outside.

“Well y/n it seems like-” Dabi was hit with a wave of pure lust. He sniffed the air, what was that intoxicating smell? He turned around dazed, peering at you with hooded eyes.

“y/n no,” he garbled, stumbling towards you. He lifted up his hand, lighting a weak flame. Another wave of unbearable lust flashed over him. He groaned and fell to his knees.

You stalked forward and kneeled down next to Dabi. You didn’t need to sing anymore, your job was done. Sending the most intoxicating and sexual smells and sounds from yourself to Dabi’s sense, you had turned him into an insatiable sex machine.

“You’re probably feeling a bit betrayed right now.” You said in the most sensuous voice Dabi ever heard. “I only lied to you a bit though. I really am infatuated with you, just not in the way you think. Forgive me?” You pouted, hand under his chin to meet his eyes.

Dabi was too busy palming his cock to answer. A wicked grin spread across your face. “Ah, is my Dabi all hard? Do you want to fuck me one last time?” You questioned, fingers trailing down his torso.

“God y/n, please I cant help it. I need your tight cunt.” Dabi moaned, his cock pulsing in need to stuff your wet pussy. You chuckled and cooed at him. “Don’t worry baby, I’m all yours for the taking. Use me, fuck me with all the hate you have for me.”

Dabi growled and lashed out, pinning you beneath him. He rutted against you with breathless moans, hands on your throat. He squeezed tightly, cutting off your airway. You clawed at his hands, loosening them to laugh manically. Dabi burned several holes in your costume shredding it off you.

“Fuck,” he groaned out, staring at your soaking wet panties. “You’re still such a slut for me.” He pulled them aside not having the patience to take them off before stuffing two fingers into your cunt. You moaned and lifted your hips, his fingers scissoring deep inside you. Pressing his thumb against your clit, he rubbed in slow circles. You scrambled for a hold on the ground, back arching as you came. Your pussy quivered around his fingers, clutching onto them. He pulled them out with a drunk grin and sucked them into his mouth. “Your cunt is the tastiest thing I’ve ever had.” He moaned out, licking the sides of his fingers to collect every drop of your juices.

You sat up on your elbows with a dazed expression, watching him lick his fingers. It turned you on, leaving your cunt to drip on the concrete beneath you. Dabi grabbed your ankles and pulled you to him. Tearing his pants off in haste, he picked you up and sat you down on his cock with a heavy thrust.

“Oh fuck!” You both moaned out in sync, gripping onto each other. Dabi thrust into you unrelentingly, moaning out your name. “This tight cunt is mine y/n, all fucking mine. No one is going to take you from me.” He howled out, mind taken over by the smell and sight of you. He leaned forward taking your breast in his mouth. He sucked harshly, leaving your nipple swollen.

“D-dabi fuck!” You stuttered out. The stimulation of his fat cock in you and his lips on your nipple drove you to orgasm. Your cunt tightened around his dick, inciting a groan from him.

He grunted and wrapped a hand around your throat, holding you up with one arm and his cock. “That’s right slut, cum around my dick. Your pussy is so needy for me.” He thrusted deeply, hitting your cervix. Your eyes rolled back as you gurgled out a moan. He battered your cervix relentlessly, leaving you a pathetic drooling mess. Pressing you against the wall, he placed his hands by your head and fucked you at a new angle. The pleasure was unbearable, your mind swirled with nothing but Dabi’s continuous thrusts.

“I’m g-gonna cum y/n, fuck I’m gonna cum. Your pussy s’good.” Dabi was just as incoherent as you were, drunk on lust. Rooting himself deep in you, he groaned as his seed spurted against your womb. His eyes rolled back at the thought of breeding you, leaving you pregnant with his kids.

You were left quivering, his twitching cock triggering another orgasm. You gasped and clawed his back, biting your lip. Dabi pulled out his now soft cock, his piercing leaving a burning sensation against the walls of your battered pussy.

Dabi slumped to the floor, his vision spotting. You crawled towards him out of breath. “Happy Birthday Dabi,” you muttered, pressing a kiss against his lips. Dabi slipped into unconsciousness, not once waking up as he was taken away by the pro heroes to live an imprisoned life in solitude.

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #dabi x reader #dabi smut #dabi filth #dabi x y/n #dabi #fuck this killed me #happy birthday dabi #i need to get better at tags #mha smut

[my-writings-and-musings]

Please ignore this if you've gotten sick of this particular prompt, but may we please get another set of the Oxygen Deprivation scenarios, but this time with Ratchet and Megatron?? Regardless of if you do it or not, thank you for your hard work, I love everything you've written so far!

Thankfully I never tire of drama! I did the prompt for Megatron back in part three, but I've absolutely got some grumpy/caring medic for you! Thank you for taking the time to read my stuff and send in a request, it always makes my day!

Part One: Here!

Part Two: Here!

Part Three: Here!

Part Four: Here!

Part Five: You're Here!

Part Six: Here!

Part Seven: Here!

Part Eight: Here!

Part Nine: Here!

Part Ten: Here!

Part Eleven: Here!

Part Twelve: Here!

Ratchet

·You're in Swerve's with him for a nice evening off, something he enjoys a little more frequently than he used to thanks to the multitude of medics on board, but he appreciates every minute the two of you get to enjoy together regardless. There's hardly a lack of things to discuss, and you often find yourself listening to his stories until the bar closes and he has to carry you to berth. It's a little embarrassing for you, especially with every bot that knows thinking it's the cutest thing they've ever seen, but you admittedly enjoy being with Ratchet too much to care about how it looks. It doesn't hurt that he quite obviously enjoys it as well, especially when he's usually around those who only seek him out if they're sick, and he enjoys that he finally has an enthusiastic audience.

·The two of you are amongst the last of the patrons but still going strong one slow evening, with you perched atop a table whilst the older mech tells a story about a long ago incident in a medical lab where, upon being short staffed due to an ongoing battle, a patient had helpfully assisted with his own surgery. Though you're tired due to the hour, you're more than invested enough to keep your eyes open and listen along in fascination. It's not often he gets to go on like this, after all, and he looks absolutely adorable when he does.

·There's an unexpected flickering of the lights that stops everyone in their place, but it ends just quickly enough for the atmosphere to return to calm and for some bot to crack a joke about Swerve not paying his electric bill. You barely have time to chuckle before the whole ship is rocked like a boat on the open ocean, sending engex flying and glass shattering as everything not nailed down is tossed without a care, yourself included. Only the quick hands of an experienced medic save you from experiencing a not so gentle crash into the floor. Looking up once the dust settles to see Ratchet has you cupped safely in his palms, the two of you can't help but exchange a quick smile before the various bots around you start asking questions.

·Ratchet is quick to answer, keeping you in his hands to avoid the sea of broken glass as he stands. Any bot with decent battle experience on a ship like this recognizes what they all just felt, but being a bot who's seen more than his fair share of combat in space, he's able to explain that the size of the tremor indicates that they've been trapped by an enemy ship of smaller but not insignificant build. He gives them about five minutes before they're boarded, and instructs those gathered to head for emergency battle stations, as commands for defense will no doubt be incoming.

·Announcing his own intent to get to his post in the medical bay, the mech is quick to get going despite appearing outwardly calm, even promising Swerve he'll settle his tab when they get all this sorted. Holding you tight in one hand, he pulls up his communicator and tries to reach the bridge for specific instructions. To his frustration nothing comes through, and you find the same results when you make an attempt to establish communication with any top bot on your own communicator, prompting a few muttered swears from your partner. As usual, he's quick to get right to planning.

·Thankfully his designated task for any kind of emergency is exactly the same no matter the crisis; he heads to the medical bay and starts repairing the inevitable wounded. While you can't help with surgery, being that you're not much bigger than most of their tools, he posits that it makes sense for you to come with him. There's nothing more fortified than the medical bay, after all, so you can at least be somewhere safe. Though you're tempted to tease him about how obvious it is he wants you somewhere he can keep an optic on you, for now you decide to just settle in his hand and focus on what's ahead.

·Having been on many ships before this one, he's able to navigate with hardly a second thought, giving him a chance to keep his focus on you whilst he tries to keep figuring out the extent of the ship's difficulty. You can see him frown as he tries unsuccessfully to get his communicator working, and though you want to be stealthy for the sake of safety, you do want a better understanding of what's going on. Thankfully a human voice doesn't travel far through the hallways when spoken at conversational volume. Trying not to betray your anxiety, you ask if he can tell you anything about what to expect.

·Holding your tiny form a little closer, he hides the fact that he can see your apprehension clear as day, quite familiar with the brave face bots and humans alike will put on when in danger. Still, he certainly respects you enough to be honest. He explains that one ship latching on to another for an ambush these days is typically a pirate tactic, as they're more interested in selling the vessel afterwards or scrapping it for tech, unlike warring factions who will typically just blow each other up. There's probably already enemy forces on the ship, and they've certainly come well armed if they feel confident enough to take on Cybertronians.

·Your eyes dart around a little faster at that thought. Securing your hand against one of his digits, you remember they're sensitive enough to pick your heartbeat from just a touch, and the recollection stirs your affection whilst also making you think. If Cybertronians are so advanced, how can there be nothing working on this ship right now? Were there really no back up systems that could at least give you the basics? With the whole structure being the size of Manhattan, it'd be very nice to at least know if some areas might be safe, but then again bots tended to build things in a strange way. Nevertheless, your curiosity is so great you can't help asking a question.

·Ratchet pauses even as he keeps walking, his expression going distant in a way that initially makes you worry your query was taken with offense. But thankfully he speaks a second afterwards, looking inspired as he recalls a station of terminals not too far out of your path. It's more vulnerable, sure, but it also has physical connections to every part of the craft. He'd at least be able to conduct a system wide scan from there, and after that he'd have a much better idea of what they're up against. But he has to ask you first; are you comfortable with him taking the risk? Of course he'll always protect you, but there's a greater chance he'll need to do that if this path is chosen.

·You're smart enough to know exactly what he means. But there's a risk you'll bump into an enemy anyway, so wouldn't having a chance to get information like this be worth it? Oddly enough you seem more on board than he is with the plan, his friendly blue optics dimming with worry before you lay a comforting hand on his chest, smiling as you do so. This big mech cares so deeply for everyone, but you have a very special place in his loving spark, no matter how much he tries to pretend he's a grump. Your sentimental move seems to snap him back to hiding behind his mask, and he mutters something about feeling your heartbeat against his palm and how it's obvious you're nervous but if you say you're ready then he'll give this plan a try...

·For the sake of stealth he remains in bipedal mode, but he absolutely keeps you securely held to his chest, and you can't help but wish the circumstances were better because his spark humming beside you is impossibly soothing. Being held protectively by a Cybertronian is undoubtedly one of the most secure feelings in the world, you believe. Just being held by him in general though is enough to make you realize you're actually quite tired, enough so that you could absolutely fall asleep... Until he detects your slowing heartbeat and encourages you to stay awake.

·The terminal is in sight without a spot of trouble when Ratchet has to gently coax you awake for a second time, using a light nudge of his digit to encourage you to open your eyes once more. Though he knows the hour is late, your sudden sluggishness concerns him as a medic, enough so that he's now more intent than ever on getting some answers. Even without proof and a wealth of far more simple explanations, he's got a feeling something is wrong. A small part of his concentration is divided to keep a constant watch on your vitals.

·You're still alert enough to hear the incoming trouble just as he does; gunfire, shouts and general sounds of skirmish approaching rapidly down the hallway. Hearing him curse this unfortunate luck, you try to ascertain how long the two of you have until company arrives, but the noise is much too chaotic for you to gauge. Knowing Autobots will be amongst the fray is somehow far from comforting. Holding on tight to the hands cradling you so protectively, you look straight up just as the quick thinking doctor looks down at you, absolute trust in your eyes as you meet his optics. Whatever he decides to do next, you trust him with your life.

·The decision he makes isn't a spontaneous one, but it certainly feels like it as he barrels towards the terminals, holding his tiny partner to his chest as he runs. Knowing what's happening may well be the key to undoing any damage before it's too late. He can feel the heat of a few errant shots of blaster fire just as he gets his one spare hand on the keyboard, typing with speed he typically reserves for surgery as the world around him grows gradually more chaotic. Fortunately he only needs to hit a few buttons to bring up all the information he's looking for. Sharp optics start scanning whilst he uses his multitasking skills to keep track of everything else, listening for the threat and holding your little body close while he registers your pulse.

·The world around you feels like it's moving through water that thickens with every passing second, and neither the crackle of energy weapons nor the clanging of blades does anything to reverse the process. Even a shout from an Autobot warning Ratchet to move seems a million miles away. You know he told you to stay awake, but would he really mind if you got a quick nap in? After all, it's so late, and you're so tired, and you feel so safe in his sheltered grip... There isn't even a bit of worry in your mind regarding the fray. How could you be worried, here with the bot who would protect you always?

·Everything makes a terrifying amount of sense far too quickly. Ratchet is accustomed to the rapid responses his occupation requires of him, but for this singular instant he's frozen, optics locking on the atmosphere readout and hoping that he's simply misread it. A glancing but molten blow past his back forces him to accept what won't change, and he manages a combat roll just as the terminal is blasted by errant fire, the battle now within arms length as the same Autobot keeps encouraging him to move. He obliges only after sinking a fist into the face of an alien who wanders too close. After that, he's on the move without reservation, keeping you shielded with his entire frame as he runs.

·Your world spins without end even when the movement of everything beyond stabilizes, and you cling to the bot holding you for something to steady it all. God, what you wouldn't give to lie down and sleep... Ratchet is talking to you though, holding you so that you can see his face as he explains something about oxygen and taking deep breaths while focusing on him. It makes tragically little sense to you. Still, you feel bad as your eyelids grow heavy and your body turns to limp weight in his grip. Even your efforts to breathe as instructed feel like a failure. Of all the beings in the galaxy he's the one you want to dissapoint least, but his warm palms beneath you are so comfortable, and his spark humming in your ear is so soothing... You only hope he can forgive you for submitting to sleep.

·Ratchet knows he's powerless to wake you again, but that hardly keeps the agony from tearing at his spark. Seeing you go limp in his grasp, feeling your pulse weaken and grow irregular, hearing your breath stall... How long has it been since any medical emergency has reduced him to near panic like this? He's so invested in his task that his arrival to the medical bay only comes with orders. You're the human equivalent of a Fader, and so much of what he needs to save you isn't even ready to go! He needs to have a mask, a saline solution for dehydration, and oxygen of the exact content percentage you need to survive just to start... For the first time in eons he's terrified, even as it all comes together and he sees your vitals stabilize before his very optics, as all he can think of is how very close this came to ending tragically. As you're left recovering he quickly gets to work on other patients, throwing himself into the task so as not to worry, though his optics betray him on the regular with glances towards the berth supporting your tiny body.

·Wakefulness comes with a familiar digit resting in your palm, reading your vitals as you put together blurry pieces of a not so happy story. To your delight, a brightly colored chevron is the first thing you see when you open your eyes, and it's impossible not to smile when you roll your head over to look at the owner. Ratchet somehow looks more exhausted than you've ever seen him as he smiles back. He relays everything that happened in a way that paints him as an unimportant figure, up until you move your hand to rest atop his, your eyes filled with that same trust and admiration you'd given before he'd gone for the terminal. You want to communicate that you know how much you owe him. This brave, selfless medic who'd risked so much to give you his best and deserved the full credit for saving your life... Humility doesn't allow him to agree in full, but you're certain you can see peace in his optics, the kind he only seems to feel with you.

#transformers #maccadam #more than meets the eye #mtmte #lost light #idw #tf #transformers headcanon #my writing #my asks #anon #requests #ratchet #ratchet x reader #self insert #human reader

[ressyfaerie]

I would love love love to see something along the lines of a Tyka mer au?? Especially if Kai is the merman!! I do love them ever so. Any age rating/idea I am so down for, pretty please!! 🥺🙏❤

Keep up with the great Tyka content it makes my day!

I know who you are and you always give me the best fic inspiration! I read your Tyka mer comics and I am INSPIRED. This might be longer than expected! But here I gooooo

So now that I finished it, I’ll be putting it in a readmore since it’s VERY LONG!!

It’s very rare that I write in first person! But this story definitely called for it, and I AM COMPLETELY IN LOVE. You’re going to want to ask for more, I can already tell.

So here it is:

When I was young, I was saved by a merman.

I remember how the cold seeped into my veins. My head was pounding from the force of hitting the water.

I was too young to know how to swim.

I couldn’t move even if I wanted to.

My body was numb, I descended into the dark blue sea, I saw the light glimmer from the surface, and felt water invade my lungs.

That’s when I saw him.

A flash of blue and milky skin. I felt the smooth scales wrap around my body. I saw his face, clear as day. His purple eyes, silver hair, and blue face markings. His face looked panicked, bubbles erupted from his mouth forming inaudible words. His face turned blurry, and my vision grew dark.

I woke up on the beach. No one believed me when I told them. Just a child’s fantasy gone overboard.

I always wondered how I made it back to shore without knowing how to swim, or how I missed all the rocks.

Someone must have saved me.

The more I visited the beach and saw no sign of a blue finned merman my belief started to dwindle.

Growing up I drew pictures, I even based my imaginary friend off my hero.

In my teens, my best friend Max reminded me of him.

“Tyson! I was just telling my friend about that mer-boy that saved you when you were a kid!”

I laughed it off, “it was a fairytale, Max. Nothing more.”

Years before, Kenny and Hilary sat with me on the beach one day after training.

“Could he still be out there?”

I cleaned my surfboard, looking off into the mysterious ocean.

Hilary passed me a bottle of wax for my board, “you know, I read at least eighty percent of the ocean remains undiscovered.”

Kenny looked up from his laptop, “every mermaid sighting has been proved fake. I still think what you saw was due to a lack of oxygen.”

I gave him an angry look, I didn’t mean to.

“Uh… but miracles have happened.” Kenny tried to reassure me.

I knew the truth.

Mermaids and mermen weren’t real.

After my Mom died, and my Dad left with my brother to explore the world, I had two things, my Grandpa, and my imagination.

Thinking of that boy was my playground. I’d bring sandwiches to the beach, and pretend to talk to him.

I made friends. And became a surfing champion. With my success my imagination drifted away.

I guess I really wasn’t ready for what came next huh?

“Tyson!”

Hilary and Kenny made their way towards my desk, I slammed my textbook closed, I was done with studying anyways.

“There’s a carnival in town! It’s close to your house, you want to come with us tonight?” Her eyes were bright.

I felt a pat on my shoulder, I looked to my right, Max’s blonde hair caught my eye.

“Carnival? Count me in!”

“I’m going too…” Kenny mentioned awkwardly, “Tyson?”

I rolled my eyes, carnivals were for kids. Besides I was planning on catching some waves tonight, but the weather was supposed to be really calm. I guess I could spare the time.

“Alright, sounds like a plan.”

I was right. Carnivals were for kids.

Doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun though.

We rode ride after ride. Kenny had to sit on a bench after he got sick, Hilary rubbed his back.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, partner!” Max slapped my back, “let's get some more snacks!”

Max pulled me towards another booth. I love food, but after a dozen different snacks, and a dozen different rides, I had to admit, I wasn’t feeling too well.

Max handed me a candy apple, I took a bite and felt my stomach turn.

“Bluh,” my lip turned in disgust.

“Wanna take a break from the rides?”

I nodded.

We lost Kenny and Hilary ages ago. Walking through the parts of the carnival with fewer people, we came across a mirror maze.

“Tyson, let’s go in!”

“Sounds fun!”

It was no surprise when I lost Max right away.

I could hear his excited giggles and him shouting my name, I tried to go in his direction, but eventually his voice faded out, and I found my way to the exit.

“Max!” I shouted into the maze, but there was no reply back.

He might have gotten out already…

I walked through the carnival looking for my blonde haired friend. No luck. There was a fortune teller, I made a mental note, Hilary would have liked to go back there.

Then something caught my eye.

ANASTASIA’S HOUSE OF WONDERS

It looked like a cardboard standee, with dark tents behind it. It couldn’t have been that big. I saw some people leave out the exit. There was someone in front of it. They were dressed in a creepy joker costume.

“Hey man,” I got his attention.

“Do you dare enter the house of wonders!”

“Uh, maybe? Is it cool? Like… what’s in there?”

“Things that will make your blood boil—”

“Things?”

“And creatures unknown to this world!—”

“Creatures!?”

“And above all—”

“Oooo what else!?”

“Look kid.” The grey haired joker lowered his arms and sighed, “can you just let me finish my speech?”

“Oh, yeah sorry.”

“I’m Bryan the sharpshooting joker! For only a few bucks—find yourself immersed in a new world!—”

“Okay,” I raised my hand, “that’s enough.”

“Oh thank god” Bryan’s voice dropped a few octaves.

The guy seemed kinda chill, so I leveled with him.

“So dude, is it actually worth my time in there?”

Bryan nodded, “yeah, it’s actually really cool.”

“Alright, sign me up.” I handed him a couple bills.

“Enjoy.” He counted the money.

Before I left I looked under his costume hat, “wait, don’t I know you?”

“Maybe?” He grumbled, accidentally revealing his true persona.

“Yeah! You were in the last surfing championship! You’re that crazy intense guy Bryan! What the heck are you doing here?”

“Uh, sidegig.” He lowered his mask, “have fun in there, kid.”

“Okay…”

I brushed off the awkward encounter and turned to the entrance. It was covered in two extravagant curtains. I pushed the fabric to the side and walked into the darkness.

Wait, is this a haunted house? Damn I shouldn’t have gone without Max!

The first thing I noticed was there was a lack of… people. Tesla coils and odd gimmicks littered the floor of the first hallway. I rolled my eyes, remembering carnivals were for kids.

The next room was bigger than expected, it was a dome with a button in the middle. I pressed it, who could resist a big red button after all?

Suddenly a snow storm picked up. I covered my face, “ah!”

It stopped before I could figure it out, I stared at the sleeve of my red jacket, where snowflakes started melting.

“Alright, that was definitely real snow! I’ll admit I have no idea how you did that one!”

I shouted to no one, but it still helped my nerves.

I—couldn’t figure out where the exit was.

I walked to the edge of the dome, it looked like a carnival tent, I tapped the edge, it rang back with a metallic sound.

“Uh.” I grew worried, “an exit would be nice?!”

I heard a sound from the other side of the room, and some fabric fell from nowhere, revealing another dark room, “thank you!”

Cautiously I made my way to the dark room.

I wish I hadn’t.

Inside were weird animals in green jars.

“Oof, these can’t be real.”

I tapped one, the baby bird inside moved.

“I assure you, they are all real.”

I turned to the corner. A.. man? He had a raven masquerade mask, and when Tyson locked eyes with him, he screamed and revealed massive black wings from his back.

“What the!?—”

I fell backwards, falling on my rear.

The bird boy made his way towards me.

“What are you?!”

“I’m Ian, the birdman.” He sounded tired.

“And in there,” he pointed to the next room with a black talon, “you’ll find my wolf friend.”

“You’re what!?”

I sat up, “naw, I’m done with this place. Your costumes are a bit too real for me.”

He shrugged, “that’s what they all say.” he sat on a crate with a loud thud, “enjoy the rest of the tour.”

I went to the next room because that guy was freaking me out. I really wanted to head back the way I came, but I couldn’t seem to find it.

Also, that guy seemed kind of familiar.

The next room felt colder than the rest. My heart raced when I saw a cage.

“Uh, hello? This haunted house is getting a little weird…”

I heard the clanking of chains, and a flash of red. On the floor of the cage was a boy, a bit older than myself.

“Are you okay?” I asked knowing it was an actor.

I heard a deep growl, and he lifted himself off the floor. I gasped when I saw his face.

A white wolf with a red mane bared his teeth at me.

I took a step back.

I felt the room grow cold, as the wolf tensed and growled.

It lunged forward and snapped it’s jaw, it hit the bars of the cage with a strength that boy shouldn’t possess, I turned and ran.

I ran through a wall tearing down fabric sprinting through tents.

It was dark, I couldn't see anything and didn’t know where I was going.

“Ah!” My foot got caught on a stone and I fell forward.

“How is this place so big! It did not look like this from the outside!”

In front of me was a curtain, it just barely touched the floor, I could see light shining from under it.

If I can’t find my way out… I might as well head for the light.

I lifted the curtain up and shielded my eyes from the bright white light.

In front of me I could just make out the wheels of a traveling train car. The front of it wasn’t metal, it was glass. Bright fluorescent lights hung over it. There was a sign next to me, I rubbed my eyes and could just make out the writing.

Newest exhibit! A rarity of its kind! Stay back, he splashes.

“What?”

Then I saw it.

The flash of blue, silver, and purple.

A merman threw himself against the glass repeatedly, tossing his fists against it. His wrists were in chains, and his constant assault against the glass only amounted to hollow thumps echoing through the tent.

I felt my body freeze.

It was the merman from my childhood.

Is this real?

I slowly made my way to the sealed aquarium.

The boy must have seen me enter the ring of light, because he stopped, he started floating, and stared at me.

“Hello?”

The merman didn’t move, he simply floated in place, I could see his chest move up and down.

“Do you recognize me?”

I made my way to the glass, getting a good look at the boy for the first time.

I placed my hand on the glass. I saw how red his wrists were from the chains.

He put his hand against the glass, only a thin separation between us. I smiled, and looked into his purple eyes.

I think he smiled at me. He opened his mouth slightly and a few bubbles popped out. I chuckled, and he looked back at me.

I stared up at the top of the tank, the lid was thick glass. A massive padlock kept it down. He saw me look at it, and he shook his head frantically.

I nodded, and placed my head against the glass, “you’re not supposed to be here.”

I jumped and hit the lock with my hand gauging how tough it was.

The merman waved his hand and mouthed words shaking his head.

“I’m gonna get you out of here!”

I looked around the room for a tool to use to break the lock. The only thing I could find was the sign I had seen previously.

I grabbed it, and tossed it to the ground, ripping it off its base.

The merman kept throwing his fist against the tank to get my attention, I ignored him knowing I had to help him.

I climbed the edge of the train cart so I was standing on top of the glass looking down at the silver haired boy. He floated on his back and kept banging on the glass with both hands.

It seemed like he was mouthing the words ‘get out get out!’

I used the stick tool I had made and bashed the lock, making loud sounds through the room. I kept doing it, but it didn’t budge.

The merman was banging on the glass mouthing the same words.

“I’m trying!”

I jumped down, knowing I would have to find a different tool, but I bashed it again in frustration.

The merman was frantically pointing now.

“What? What is it?” I watched his lips.

‘Behind you!’

I felt someone grab my shoulder, before I could scream they grasped my shirt and yanked me to the floor, dragging me away.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to touch people in a haunted house!”

I kicked and screamed while watching my merman frantically swim in circles and hit the glass with his tail. He was trying to get to me, but I knew it wasn’t going to work.

The man threw me into another room. I couldn’t see anything in the dark, I was tossed on a chair and sat up. He turned on a light with a click, and an old fluorescent bulb hung from the ceiling. I blinked a few times trying to find my way in the new surroundings.

A silhouette of a man sat on the opposite end of a table.

“You think you can try to take one of my treasures?”

“He is not yours!”

“Months ago I captured him. He’s rightfully mine.”

“Who do you think you are?!” I screamed at him, knowing full well this full grown man could cause me serious harm.

“He’s a rarity, I won’t let him fall into the hands of some snot nosed teenager with a superiority complex.”

I spat, “do you own this crazy place?”

“I do.”

“Don’t think I didn’t recognize your workers. I surfed with most of them in last year's competition.”

The man simply laughed, I finally got to make out some of his facial features. He was an older man.

“And why does the world champion desire my merman?”

“I don’t desire him, he needs to be free!”

“Ha!” The man’s voice bellowed.

I frantically searched for answers, for a way out—for the both of us.

“I’ll buy him from you!”

“Like you could afford him.”

“If I win the next competition—”

“You won’t.”

I grinned smugly, “you don’t know that.”

“You won by luck, my team is far superior.”

“Your team of monsters? Isn’t that cheating?”

“And you think being a descendant of a storm dragon is fair?”

“I’m a—what?”

The man shook his head.

“I know who you are, Tyson.”

“You gonna tell me who you are?”

The man chuckled in response to my anger, making me even more furious.

“The name is Boris. I take care of these boys—”

“By imprisoning them? Leave my merman alone!”

“Excuse me? Yours? Did you not just meet this creature?”

“Let’s say I’m feeling friendly.” I crossed my arms.

“He seemed to react to your presence, what did you do?”

I panicked, “how long were you watching for!?”

“Long enough. I’ve had him here for a few months, yet I can’t seem to break him.”

“Break him?” I was in disbelief, my childhood hero was not some horse at a stable!

“Yes, perhaps you could help—”

“No.” I grimaced.

Boris tapped his fist on the table, “well, it seems we are at an impasse.”

“You’ll never have my help.”

“I think I can live without it.” He stood up, he was much taller than me. “Please leave my circus, and don’t come back.”

“I’m not leaving without the merman.” I stood my ground.

“That’s a shame.”

I felt something heavy hit my temple—

I woke up on a grassy hill. I rubbed my head.

When I managed to sit up I overlooked the carnival from across a field. The lights were all out. It had to have been late for it to be completely closed.

Boris…

Now that I knew my merman was real, and that he was captured by such an evil man I had to find a way to get him back.

I’ll steal him. I’ll figure something out…

You better watch your back Boris.

I stared in the direction I thought my blue finned saviour would be in.

Hold on, I’m coming for you.

#mer AU #merman #grabmydigits #ressyfaerie #ressyfaerie fic #request #tyka #tyson #kai #AU

[gumnut-logic]

Two Birds with One Stone (Bit 2)

Bit 1 | Bit 2

Still @godsliltippy​ ‘s fault :D Unfortunately today went sideways, so I don’t have as much of this written as I would like, though this is a decent chunk. I’m quite enjoying writing this...my writing has lost a bit of its spark lately as I think I’m buried under all those WIPs and it is messing with my muse. But this is a shortish one that is pure indulgence.

Also, I forgot to link to the artwork that inspired this! The Wonderful Tippy’s art of these two knuckleheads trying to treat each other :D Though I will admit, I upped the whump level, just a little :D

Many thanks to @godsliltippy​ @tsarinatorment​ and @scribbles97​ for all their reading, inspiration and support ::hugs them madly:: And also to all those thunderfam who commented on Bit One. You guys keep me happy and writing ::hugs you all so much::

I hope you enjoy this bit. Hopefully I can write some more later tonight.

-o-o-o-

Gordon hated tornadoes. Since he was little, they had haunted his dreams. Stories from kids at school, news on the broadcasts and several mad scampers down into the storm shelter with his mother and a brother or two, absolutely terrified for the brothers who weren’t with them, pretty much cemented in a decent wariness.

And the sound. Oh god, the sound. So loud and screeching.

There had been the one time it had only been him and his two eldest brothers. Mom had been with Johnny somewhere else. Gordon had been too young to remember where, but what he did remember was Virgil.

Scott had held Gordon while the wind blasted overhead and his brother’s arms around him helped ever so much. But Virgil had been so jumpy and the emotion in his eyes had frightened Gordon enough that he never forgot it.

He had asked Virgil about it sometime after but his big brother had no idea what he was talking about. There were hugs and reassurance a-plenty, but Gordon was not convinced.

He was determined that Virgil liked tornadoes even less than Gordon.

So, it was with a familiar sense of apprehension that Gordon faced landing in a volatile tornado zone.

Two was equipped. Equipped to withstand almost anything. She was a tank. But there were plenty of things in a tornado zone that Brains might not have been able to predict.

If Gordon found himself eyeing the dark sky as Virgil secured his ‘bird, literally clamping her to the ground with her grapples and drilling pitons deployed from her struts, he felt justified in his uneasiness. Virgil even muttered something about the type of rock he had landed on, probably to try and reassure his co-pilot.

It didn’t work.

But Gordon was used to being afraid. It was healthy and just needed the respect it was due so he could work around it.

Today it was a factory and an unconfirmed number of people trapped beneath its collapsed structure.

They were both moving, down the hatch, and running over to do an initial site assessment before deploying a pod or two. Virgil had just reached the edge of the debris zone, Gordon a second behind him when John yelled in his ear and the world suddenly darkened.

That familiar and dreaded screeching wind leapt up and the earth roared as a twister hit dirt far too close to them and obviously unpredicted by anyone. It blanked out everything with torn up landscape.

John was still yelling in his ear.

It began to hail.

Huge chunks of ice that clamoured against his helmet and bruised through uniform.

The noise.

God, the noise.

Instinctively, he reached out and grabbed for Virgil’s uniform only to glimpse a darker shadow in the chaos.

A split second later he was fighting the wind both to keep his feet and to move himself and his brother out of the way.

It was a combine harvester.

An airborne combine harvester. He had only a split second to recognise the shape before it was on them.

Gordon threw up an arm to protect himself as the machinery threatened to land on their heads.

It didn’t.

It missed, bouncing just enough to fly over in a mess of screaming metal.

His arm snagged on something sharp, tearing his uniform, but he was so happy to not be dead that when the twister abruptly disappeared just as fast as it hit, he found himself collapsing to the ground as much as the falling debris around him.

The hail switched to rain.

Dirt turned to iceberged mud.

He still had his fist knotted in Virgil’s baldric.

His brother was face down, helmet sinking into the sludge.

“Virgil!”

The rain petered off abruptly and the world around him fell silent bar the ominous rumble of the clouds and the soft splats of small pieces of debris returning to earth.

“Virgil!”

His brother did not respond.

But as Gordon reached over to assess him something twitched in his arm, a spurt of red forced him to clamp a hand down on a suddenly very serious injury.

Shit!

“Virgil!”

He nudged his brother with an elbow and prayed he wasn’t seriously injured.

As if in answer, Virgil groaned and rolled over.

Gordon’s eyes widened.

There was a huge chunk of metal sticking out of his brother’s helmet.

Words failed him, absolute terror shaking him to his bones.

“VIRGIL!”

His brother groaned again, a hand wavering towards his broken visor.

“No, Virgil, stay still! Thunderbird Five, emergency, we need assistance, Virgil is down!”

“FAB. Help is already on the way. Scott is en route.” His brother’s voice was calm, familiar and professional, but the tension was there. “I’ve alerted local services, but they are overwhelmed.” And there was the worry that echoed Gordon’s. “I will do my best.”

The aquanaut didn’t bother to acknowledge that. He knew John would do everything.

Gordon edged closer to Virgil only to have to scuttle out of the way as his brother suddenly sat up, threw off his helmet and emptied his stomach onto the mud.

It was unpleasant but unfortunately not unfamiliar. Virgil groaned, an arm clutching at his gut and his other hand reaching for his head.

“Virgil!”

His brother looked over at him and Gordon was forced to swallow bile.

The right side of Virgil’s head was matted in blood. His cheekbone was already beginning to swell and his eye with it. Brown eyes looked at him blearily a moment before blinking and focussing…

…on Gordon’s arm.

“Gordon!”

It was like a switch had been hit and Virgil was moving reaching for Gordon’s injury, medical concern his only focus. Eyes ascertained the extent of the damage and against Gordon’s protests, Virgil soon had his fist around it stemming the bloodflow and wrapping it in a pressure bandage. Gordon knew time was limited and restricting his circulation was a bad thing, not to mention the lack of oxygen to particular parts of his body that artery actually fed, but the sight of blood dribbling down the side of his brother’s head completely ignored as he smotherhenned over Gordon, was just simply distressing.

And now he wanted to try and move them both to Two. What?!

“I’m fine! The bandage is secure. For Christ’s sake, Virgil!”

But he was ignored and next Gordon, who despite a little dizziness due to blood loss, felt he was quite capable of walking on his own, found his brother’s considerable shoulders under one arm and they were moving through the mud to the massive green ‘bird fifty-odd metres away.

“Virgil!” God, please, don’t do this to yourself.

Okay, vertical wasn’t the best position and his head spun. Gordon had a sudden wish for his biggest brother to suddenly appear to save them all. As if hearing that thought, the world decided to make his life even worse and everything went sideways as Virgil went down like a ton of bricks.

Gordon went with him.

 TBC

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Gordon Tracy #Virgil Tracy #inspired by art

[mirror-juliet]

Grains Of Rice 18+

Jongho X reader 

Word count - 2.k+ Requested by @songsoomin​

Tagging: @lustjoong​ for helping me come up with the plot for this. it really helped bub @vocalyunho​ because i love you and you are a constant inspiration. 

Warnings:Bdsm play, Pain play (Is it even one of my fics if there isn't any?) Punishment for being a brat, reader is a major brat, Jongho is a hard dom (Do i know how to write anything else? Yes, but i'll do it another day) Pet names like doll, baby girl, i have no rythm to this. Jongho hits reader with his belt, degrading, talking back, wax play, restraints, use of bsdm toys, best friend San, jealous Jongho .*********

"Four hundred grains of rice on the floor! Four hundred grains of rice! Pick one up, drop in the cup-Three hundred and ninety nine grains of rice on the floor!" This was your punishment for back talking to Jongho all day, you did everything in your power to drive him on edge all day long. So he dragged you to the bedroom and made you sit knee-first on the hardwood. He pulled out the bag of five hundred grains of rice he made you count out, (Another old punishment) and now you're plucking them up one at a time with chopsticks and dropping them in a cup.

Unlike his train of thought, you once again managed to make your punishment, his punishment. You try to keep yourself from laughing at his annoyed form on the bed, his arms resting on his knees and his hands in his hair as he tried his best to not smack your ass here and now.

"Three hundred and ninety-" "STOP!" Jongho stands up, dragging you up from your spot. "Why couldn't you just count them like a good girl?" He disappears inside the closet for a moment, coming back with a bearing mat. "Go on, kneel on it. And the next time you sing that damn song, well, you're gonna regret it."

You give a Cheshire smirk, cringing as you press into the pointy mat. And you take a deep breath. "Don't you dare." "Oh? Why not?" He's getting angrier, holding his hands on his hips, tapping his belt to warn you. But what fun are punishments if you can't do them with Jongho? It's not like you have much to loose and everything to gain.

"Three hundred and ninety seven grains on the floor!" You're pressed down onto your hands as well, yelping at the rough sensation. "Jongho!~"

'THWAP' "Ouchie!" Jongho whips his belt across your ass, letting the metal of it shut you up. "Stop being so mean!" 'THWAP' While he brings his arm back onto you a few times, you do something daring, even for you. Not only do you break a rule-You run off the mat and to the bed. Jongho stops everything immediately. Yes, you have safe-words, but anything can go wrong, and that's what he thinks happen gauged by the look on his face

"Are you okay?" He's full of worry now, putting your face in his hands. "Yes i'm okay HoHo. Don't worry." Your lips press a soft kiss to his nose, before you forcefully push him off the bed. The force of it almost knocks him over. "What do you think you're doing baby?" Jongho snaps his fingers and points to the mat. "Get back over here and finish your punishment."

"Nu uh."

He cocks his eyebrow while stalking over to the bed, grabbing you by your hair. "Are you aware of what you're doing?" Jongho sighs heavily as you nod your head, pushing his arms off of you. "Why couldn't you just be a good girl?" You grab his wrist hard as he tries to grab at you again.

"Make it hurt baby." Jongho's cock visibly hardens in his pants, god he could never resist hurting you when you're like this. With consent, for sure. He crawls onto the bed, forcing you backwards until he has you shoved against the headboard.

"Babygirl, i would obliterate your pussy and you know it." He presses his forehead to yours. "Then why don't you?" And that's his snapping point. He yanks you onto your back by your hair, your head now at the end of the bed while he rests his knees on your thighs.

"This is what you call obliterating my pussy? More like bruising my thighs you fiend." You smirk at his pissed off face, whining when he puts more pressure on your legs to get off. "Don't move." Jongho goes into one of his dresser drawers, pulling out a blindfold. He ties it around your eyes and pulls out the restrains attached to the bed. The soft material hugging your wrists and ankles. It's gonna be a good day if he uses restraints. For him anyways.

Your breathing becomes uneven as you lay in excited silence. What would he decide to do to you? Would he flog you until you're purple, choke you until you're nearly crying from lack of oxygen? Who knows. Your thoughts are cut short when you feel hot wax poured on your exposed tummy.

"A-ah that burns Jongho" You hiss out, grabbing onto the restraints as more wax is poured onto you. "Not my problem." He says with a bored tone, but he does lift the candle up higher. Jongho watches as the red wax puddles on your stomach, how you suck in before the droplets fall. How your chest heaves when the wax actually hits, your breath warm against your lips, he just knows it. He wonders how it would look...

"Jongho!" You gasp out as the wax drips onto your breasts, just barley on your nipple but oh so close. Your pussy clenches every time he gets closer to them, not wanting him to actually drip it on them but the thought of it happening. And the slight euphoric pain it would give you. Oh, it's almost to much for you to handle and you think about begging him to just fuck you until you can't walk. You want him to hurt you in ways that would leave him kissing bruises in the morning. You also want to out-wait him, to see who'll give up their teasing and fuck the other, and that is much stronger than the need in between your legs.

After the candle runs out with your chest and stomach, even parts of your neck, you still act like the damned brat you are; smirking once again. "Is that all you have?" You ask after five minutes of laying on the bed, only hearing the breathing of each other. Jongho only grunts out, dipping his weight off the bed. He comes back shortly to straddle you  again, rubbing over your breasts. The wax comes off in satisfying chunks as he puts pressure on them. Once they're clean of most of the wax he bends down to press feather-like kisses to your nipples. You let out soft moans, feeling his lips like you molded them yourself because of the blindfold.

Jongho takes the restraints off of your ankles and helps you sit up on your knees. Then he takes another set of restraints at the head of the bed and places them around your ankles, trapping you on your knees this time. "What are you doing now?" In the very exposing position he rummages around in the closet? Metal clanking on metal until what seems like forever he comes back to you, behind you. He reaches in front of you to rub his hands everywhere over your front, except the place you want him most, below the waist. His nose nuzzles just behind your ear, taking in the sweet scent of your hair. "I couldn't have you running way while i grabbed your favorite play toys." Your heart beats faster and faster in anticipation for what he  grabbed out, because there are a lot of toys of his that you do not like. With the cold feeling of metal on your ankles your heart sinks, because this is your most hated combination. The spreader bar and Clover clamps. Jongho loves spreading you in this position, watching you as you squirm underneath his gaze. The way Jongho see's it, he's being generous tonight because he isn't making you keep eye contact with him. He's being very Generous. Because normally he would have you look into his eyes while he got himself off or decided to ruin your lower half.

You have to bite your lip to suppress the whine about to leave you because, holy shit the clover clamps hurt. Of course you had to go and get yourself a sadist boyfriend who loved nothing more than to see you bruised and red, all for him. And only him. Because that's what got you into this whole mess wasn't it?

"Sanie! I want the lama plushie, will you win it for me?!" You all but got on your knee's to beg, the man in question having tagged along with you and Jongho to the carnival; and is now standing with you in front of the bottle ring toss. Jongho had left you to get some cotton candy to your request, and you saw this as a perfect opportunity to make the most use of the man who butted in on your date. If you can't shake em' use em', Right? Either way, your small whines and puppy dog face has San now twenty dollars short for a lama he could buy you for less in hot-topic. But you wanted the rainbow cotton candy colored one, and this is his second time paying the booth runner for three little rings. And if it were any other circumstance he would probably say a prominent 'Fuck no' to anyone else, but this is his best friend he's playing for.

People could assume his butting in was a jealous spur caused by a horrible love triangle between childhood best friends and her boyfriend. But he was just your best friend who wanted to do everything with you. And that included being with you on dates, as annoying as it was; but who are you to resist him and his puppy eyes. By the time Jongho comes back with your stick of sugar, San just barley gets the ring over one of the bottles, a squeal leaving his and your mouth. The both of you jump around in excitement because the runner is handing you the large lama the size of your torso and San has finally won his first ever carnival game.

Jongho doesn't mind San coming to your little outings every once in a while, and he doesn't really mind the platonic cuddling. He knows how close you and San were from such a young age, San was your number one in life. He felt like he had no right to step in the middle of your friendship, because that's all it is, a friendship. Admittedly every once in a while he lets his jealousy get the better of him, it used to be worse when you first started dating. It wasn't until your father sat down with Jongho and told him simply. "San is gonna be in her wedding with you in it or not, so i wouldn't try to fight that loosing battle, son." That Jongho learned to deal with San. He would rather have both of you annoying brat's than a day without you. But once again, his jealousy gets the better of him sometimes. Because once you leave a kiss on San's cheek a little too close to his lips, Jongho's jaw tightens. He shouldn't be upset because you and San give each other little pecks all the time. So now shouldn't be any different. But it is, he see's the way you lingered on him for longer than usual, your hand caressing his arm ever so slightly. Jongho also knows that the last thing you would do is cheat on somebody, so he comes to the conclusion that you're doing this on purpose. To get a rise out of your cuddly teddy bear.

So here you are now, tied up and pinched while your boyfriend eye-fucks you and you aren't allowed to touch or watch. "Ah ah." Jongho clicks his tongue as you try to lean into him. "Don't move or you'll get hurt doll."

"Ouch!" A sting from the smooth of a wood paddle hits your stomach, not too harsh. "J-jongho?" He hums while listening, rubbing over the red mark on your tummy. "Can you hit me other places too?" You avoid saying specific body parts, surprisingly still shy to the idea of bdsm.

"Where baby." Jongho smiles ear to ear, you fucking know it. He absolutely loves making you red in the face. "Not here." His hand sits heavy on your stomach before moving to your crotch. "Here?" You shake your head.

"Here?" Your shoulders, another firm no.

"Then where do you want it to hurt baby?" Jongho chuckles and holds onto your waist, enjoying the soft flesh. He settles for watching you struggle instead of grinding his problem on you. You let out a sound between a groan and a whine, he grabs your face in both his hands. "Tell me what you want, darling." His voice is now laced in velvet, his breath getting heavier on you. "Tell me exactly what you want." Jongho licks a strip up the side of your face, stopping at the blindfold to get under it with his tongue and then pull away.

"I-i want you to hit my..." The last part came out as a whisper that you mentally punch yourself for. "What was that?"

"I want you to hit my ass with the paddle!" You shout this time so that there would be no misunderstanding to what you need.

"See, was that so hard?" Jongho balances you as he hits you with the paddle, nearly Knocking you over the first time. "Now count."

(A/n: Yea i know it cut off at the juicy part but i'm still trying to work myself up to writing nsfw Jongho content. I plan to do more in the future, but this was to just dip my toes in the water. I'm mainly just nervous as to the backlash people get writing about Jongho. But i do hope you really do like this. It took me a while to get inspiration for this one, but then i looked back at all my idea's for Jongho; they all seem to have a running theme of him being a dungeon master so maybe i'll do a pornstar Au sometime with him lol. Anywho make sure to like and reblog pretty please, it boosts my serotonin.

(Please note that in actual wax play in real life; you always apply lotion before dripping wax on a person and drip from up high! This is to avoid injury!")

#ateez writing #ateez jongho #ateez fanfiction #ateez reactions #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez aesthetic #choi jongho

[banana-with-a-bow-tie]

The world hates the church. If it could have its way the church wouldn’t exist.

I don’t think this should be a controversial statement. History proves it and most importantly the Bible proves it.

Satan is the god of this world (2 Cor. 4:4) and Satan hates the children of God. He wants to destroy and devour them (1 Pet. 5:8).

The world hates the truth. It suppresses it because it wants to sin freely (Rom. 1:18). The church when it is being faithful is fighting against the course of this world. Therefore, the world wants the church to stay quiet. If it could the world would close every church, burn every pulpit and destroy every Bible.

Little do they know that God’s wrath is upon them (Rom. 1:18) and without the church they would be already consumed.

As we see the world react to this Covid situation, we are starting to see the hate for the church come out.

If a ruler knew his Bible, he would quickly realize that it is in his city’s best interest not only to deem the gathering to be essential, but to be begging Christians to meet together, evangelize and pray for their communities.

As I was reading Romans 9 the other day, I was reminded about what Paul wrote in Romans 9:32 where it says,

“If the Lord of armies had not left us descendants, we would have become like Sodom, and would have been like Gomorrah.”

This is of course a loaded verse and one could preach several sermons on the truth found therein. But I would like to emphasize one simple truth this verse contains.

Paul says that a country with enough believers keeps God’s wrath longer at bay.

Or the opposite, that a city without enough Christians obeying the Lord will decay much faster than a city with Christians.

In other words, there better be churches meeting in your city or it will end up being like Sodom and Gomorrah.

The story of Sodom and Gomorrah is renown. They are no longer around today because of their rampant wickedness. But it is a conversation between Abraham and God just preceding the destruction of those cities that teaches us an important lesson regarding the importance of having enough “righteous people” in a particular city.

We find Abraham bartering with God.

The Bible records the conversation in Genesis 16:23-32,

“Will You indeed sweep away the righteous with the wicked? Suppose there are fifty righteous people within the city; will You indeed sweep it away and not spare the place for the sake of the fifty righteous who are in it? Far be it from You to do such a thing, to kill the righteous with the wicked, so that the righteous and the wicked are treated alike. Far be it from You! Shall not the Judge of all the earth deal justly?” So, the Lord said, “If I find in Sodom fifty righteous within the city, then I will spare the entire place on their account.” And Abraham replied, “Now behold, I have ventured to speak to the Lord, although I am only dust and ashes. Suppose the fifty righteous are lacking five, will You destroy the entire city because of five?” And He said, “I will not destroy it if I find forty-five there.” And he spoke to Him yet again and said, “Suppose forty are found there?” And He said, “I will not do it on account of the forty.” Then he said, “Oh may the Lord not be angry, and I shall speak; suppose thirty are found there?” And He said, “I will not do it if I find thirty there.” And he said, “Now behold, I have ventured to speak to the Lord; suppose twenty are found there?” And He said, “I will not destroy it on account of the twenty.” Then he said, “Oh may the Lord not be angry, and I shall speak only this once: suppose ten are found there?” And He said, “I will not destroy it on account of the ten.” Genesis 16:23-32

This is one of the most fascinating accounts in all of Scripture.

Here we find Abraham negotiating with God to help spare Sodom and Gomorrah. And we see God acquiescing to Abraham’s demand. If there had been ten righteous people in Sodom and Gomorrah, the cities would still be around today. But the fact of the matter is that they did not have that many righteous people and so, they did not survive God’s wrath.

Jesus tells the disciples the same thing when he calls them the salt of the earth (Matt. 5:13. He is telling them that they are the agent that is keeping the world from decaying as fast as it would were they not there. In fact, the whole point of losing your saltiness is that Christians begin thinking and acting like the world, therefore losing their power to preserve and to influence. The influencers become the influenced and therefore are casted aside by God himself.

There’s a lot of talk about loving your neighbor through this pandemic. Some Christians on social media have been very vocal about the importance of abiding by all government regulations.

In other words, they believe that Christians shouldn’t gather (or should limit the gathering) out of love for their neighbor. The potential of spreading this virus, if you gather, means that not gathering is the way to love. That the church should keep to the 15% gathering limits imposed by government; that if told, they should refrain from singing and taking communion.

Some people point to the fact that if bars have to follow rules then the church should abide by theirs as well.

The problem with this way of thinking is that bars don’t have the ability to keep the world alive by being full, while the church does. God hasn’t ordered the bar owner to gather and sing. It is more than essential for the church doors to remain open. To continue in a business-as-usual type fashion. It is the oxygen that lets this world breathe a little longer. It is the reason why God delays his wrath from being unleashed on the world. It is the reason for his overlooking wickedness in towns, cities, and countries.

What’s fascinating is that the world tries to silence and kill the very thing that is keeping them alive.

It’s like an astronaut in outer space trying to yank his helmet off because it’s bothering him. Not realizing it is the only reason he is able to live.

Of course, they killed Jesus, despite the fact that he was feeding thousands, he was healing every disease and he was casting demons. He was only improving their lives.

The world doesn’t know what is best for them.

The world has killed off Christians before. It has tried to silence the gospel. But it has never been successful and will never be successful.

I don’t write this post to criticize pastors for abiding by their city’s and country’s rules. I write this to encourage you that the world doesn’t always know what is best for them, and we should always follow God’s word above the science of the day.

I think you can be faithful and limit the amount of people who come into your doors for a time. You can be faithful and meet on zoom if you believe it is best for your church for a time. You can even do 7 services to comply with the 15% gathering demands if you want. But what is important is that you realize that the church is more than essential and that especially in times where government tries to limit churches that we understand how dangerous it is for us to limit our gathering.

It is not only dangerous for our own souls, but it is dangerous for our society.

Many pastors and parachurch leaders have been critical of pastors who don’t abide to the limits imposed by the government. One of these, James Coates, a Master’s Seminary graduate is now in jail because of his conviction to meet at full capacity.

Many Christians have been quick to criticize him for being unloving and to say that what he is facing isn’t persecution.

What they might be forgetting, perhaps because of a lack of persecution over the years, is that the Devil hates it when you gather. The Devil hates when you sing. Demons are rampant and influencing society. Demons have used and will try to use this pandemic to try to stop the church.

If there is anything the Devil loves is when he has muddied the waters so much that when Christians are persecuted, and the church is shut down, that the world will be cheering it on and will not see it for what it truly is. Persecution. And the Devil certainly considers it even more of a success when some in the church side with the world and turn against fellow Christian that they will spend eternity with.

I would just implore the Christians, not to side with the world. You may disagree with some strong stances but don’t forget how essential the church gathering is. The world as I already said doesn’t know what is best for them. The church gathering in full is what is best for them. The church singing in full chorus is what is best for them. Pastors preaching the Bible faithfully is what is best for them. The full church gathered to be equipped to go out on Monday and preach the gospel is what is best for them.

No one can destroy the church; the gates of Hell will not prevail against it. God will win. But he will do so by empowering faithful pastors like James Coates, who has seen through the false masquerade of “loving your neighbor” and refuses to give in to overbearing self-harming limitations imposed by demonically inspired governments. He has done the most loving thing he could ever do; call his church to assemble each Sunday and equip them to fight against the devil and his lies, to live holy lives, and to preach the Gospel to a quickly dying and hell-bound world.

#long post

[whitecatindisguise]

Strangle

So, I got inspired again. Thank you @wheredomelodiescomefrom for creating yet another amazing art (which you can find here).

------

"Cassandra, please!" Varian begged, running up to the woman and grabbing her wrist. "You don't have to do this."

"You are wrong." She snarled and yanked her arm free. "I HAVE TO do this."

"Cass, I know what it's like. I've been there." The boy tried to persuade. "But becoming the villain is not-"

"Is that what you think I am?!" Cassandra snapped and pushed him away.

He backed away, almost tripping on his legs. His eyes widened as the woman came closer, rage in her eyes.

"Ca-Cass. I just want to help!" He cried, and flinched, when his back hit the wall.

The blue-haired woman stopped only inches before him, looking over his smaller body. His terrified eyes locked on her enraged ones.

"I don't need your help!" She shouted, clenching her fist.

The tower rumbled and Varian tensed, eyes darting around in panic. Cassandra grabbed him forcefully and he yelped in pain and surprise.

"Don't move." She hissed but she didn't really have to say it. His mind went blank, body frozen in terror.

Something closed around his neck and his eyes widened, hand subconsciously reaching towards it. He froze again, when his fingers met a rough, spiky surface instead of skin.

"Cass, what-" He started but the woman closed her fist and suddenly something squeezed around his neck.

His eyes went wide, breathing hitched as he tried to pull off the rocks. They pushed on his windpipe, cutting out the oxygen.

He went into complete panic mode, wheezing and clawing at the collar around his neck. Blank spots danced at the corner of his vision, a sure sign of the lack of air.

He fell down, still desperately trying to pry off the rocks. The hold was getting tighter and tighter, less oxygen getting to his lungs. And the fact he was hyperventilating wasn't helping the case.

Then, as sudden as it started, the squeeze receded and he gasped for air, panting heavily. His ears rang, sound muffled and vision blurred.

Cassandra was saying something but he couldn't understand a word. She must have noticed that, because she gave a frustrated huff and created more stones, trapping the exhausted alchemist.The last thing he remembered before finally losing consciousness was the feeling of wind tugging on his hair.

~~~~~~

“Use the Sun to see the Sun? What does that even mean?!” Varian let out an exasperated huff and threw his goggles and scroll. The parchment, luckily, got stuck on one of the bars of his cage, goggles hanging from another spike.

He crossed his arms and sat back, leaning over the rock surface. A ray of light caught his attention and he looked at the scroll. The sun was being reflected in the glass from his goggles, revealing hidden text on the other side.

His eyes widened with realisation and he scrambled closer, a geeky smile appearing on his face.

“Of course! The incantation was hidden with photochromic ink! Demanitus, you genius!” He cried out happily, admiring the parchment.

He was so invested in deciphering the words, he barely noticed someone calling his name. He turned and squinted his eyes, noticing long blonde locks of one of two figures standing in the entrance to the tower.

“We’re going to get you out, kid!” Eugene called and the boy’s eyes moved to the scroll. He took a moment before answering.

“Not now! I’ve found the final incantation! It was hidden with photochromic ink! Obvious, right?” He called back, letting out a small chuckle. The grumble from the opening told him they weren’t that much interested as he was. “But I need the constant ray of light to read it. Something like prism or...”

“Crystal?” Rapunzel asked and he saw her taking something out of her bag. Eugene seemed to be genuinely surprised and pleased.

The two exchanged few words, before the man kissed Rapunzel on the cheek and started to make his way towards the alchemist’s cage.

Varian was looking between Eugene and the sun, anxiously waiting for him to finally deliver the crystal. The sun has almost set and they needed to hurry.

“Eugene, the sun is almost gone!” He called out and saw the man wobble and fall, barely grabbing the rocks to stop himself from falling.

“I’m going as fast as I can, kid.” The brown-haired man grumbled in response and shuffled closer, reaching out his hand towards him.

Varian quickly caught the object and tilted his head as he noticed it being a ring. An engagement ring, to be exact. He decided to not dwell on it, turning to his work.

Eugene gasped sharply behind him.

“Kid, what is that?!” He asked and Varian sent him a confused look.

“It’s Demanitus scroll, Eugene.” He replied, not sure why the man sounded so terrified.

“No, that’s- I know it’s Demanitus scroll!” Eugene’s eyes wasn’t on the parchment, but rather on... “What do you have around your neck?”

Varian froze for a moment, before one of his hands slowly rose to reach the questionable part. His eyes widened in realisation as fingers brushed the rough surface. Oh, right. The collar.

“That’s...” He trailed off, looking away. What should he say? That Cassandra put a collar of black rocks around his neck? That she tried to strangle him with it?

“Did Cassandra do that?” Eugene asked and Varian looked away, opting to focus on the incantation. “No, of course she did. No way you did it yourself. It’s made of black rocks, for Sun’s sake!”

“It’s working!” Varian shouted happily, for a moment forgetting about the collar around his neck.

He cried out, when the scroll caught fire. He wasn’t paying attention and the concentrated beam of light wavered too long in one spot. He scrambled with one hand for the paper and pencil, writing down the incantation as fast as he could.

He let go of the last piece of scroll, sighing in relief at the piece of paper with written down final incantation.

“I got it!” He gave the man a toothy grin and Eugene smiled in response, before his eyes fell on the boy’s neck again. The former thief frowned, smile wavering.

“What happened?” He asked, eyes full of worry. Varian looked away.

“I... I tried to talk to her but...” He reached to tug on his gloves, the collar suddenly seeming to suffocate him. “I think I only made her more mad.”

“Kid, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Eugene reached through the bars and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He seemed to want to ask something else, but then the cage shook and moved back towards the tower.

“Eugene?” Varian’s eyes were filled with fear. Eugene grit his teeth and reached out his hand for the boy to hold onto.

“Stay close, kid.” He said, before they were pulled inside.

Only moments later Eugene was pulled away, encased in black rocks, Cassandra squeezing the man mercilessly. Varian looked around and noticed Rapunzel pinned to the wall just few feet to his left. His eyes fell on the note he still held in one hand.

“Rapunzel!” He cried, reaching out the hand with the note through the bars. “I have the final incantation! You have to-!”

His words were lost as the collar suddenly tightened, pushing on his windpipe. The note fell from his hold as he struggled to breathe.

“Varian!” Rapunzel and Eugene both cried out, as the boy lay on the floor, wheezing and clawing at the collar.

“Rapu... the inca... plea...” He mumbled, not able to get out a coherent sentence as he got less and less oxygen.

“Cass! Stop!” Rapunzel cried, eyes watering.

His vision was blurring, sounds muted. He felt like he was being held underwater. Unable to breathe. Unable to hear. Unable to see.

So this is how I’m going to die?, he thought as it was harder to keep his eyes open. He thought he saw something grabbing the note from the floor, but he might have as well been hallucinating.

And then, the hold on his neck loosened. He gasped, taking deep breaths, filling his lungs with oxygen.

“Kid! Varian!” He heard Eugene call out to him with terror in his voice. “Varian!”

“I... I’m okay...” He somehow managed  to reply, voice raspy. He rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily. “I’m okay.”

Eugene opened his mouth to say something more but a sudden explosion startled them both. Varian looked up to see Rapunzel and Cassandra stuck in a duel, two coloured energies clashing with each other.

The wind picked up and suddenly there was no cage holding the boy in place. He started to move towards the ridge and his eyes widened in terror. He didn’t even notice the collar crumbling away, too focused on his body sliding away.

“Eugene!” He called out frightfully. Then, before any of them managed to react, he was pushed away and fell.

~~~~~~

They were back at the bottom of the tower. The moment Eugene and Rapunzel walked through the door, they ran up to the alchemist and locked him in a tender embrace. It took only a moment, but when he was wrapped in a tight hug, the dam finally broke.

The kidnapping, the drugging, the collar and being strangled, being locked up in a cage hundreds of metres above the ground, strangled again and finally falling to his death. It all came back at once, and he teared down, desperately holding to the two adults.

He didn’t know how long was he crying. At some point Lance, Catalina and Kiera joined in, all lovingly embracing him, as he cried his eyes out. When he finally had no more tears, he slowly released the two adults he took hold to.

“Better now?” Rapunzel asked softly and he nodded, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes.

“Sorry...” He mumbled, eyes downcast. His hand subconsciously went to his neck, startling when he actually managed to touch it.

“Erm, you might consider wearing higher collars for some time.” Eugene said as he eyed the boy’s neck. “Or a scarf.”

“That bad?” Varian asked and Eugene stared for a moment before nodding. The boy sighed tiredly.

“Dad’s going to have a fit.” He said and chuckled nervously.

“Want me to come with?” The man offered and Varian smiled in response.

“Nah, I’ll figure something out.” He replied. “Not the worst of the injuries I had over time.”

“Kid, that’s not reassuring.” Eugene shot him a concerned gaze and the boy laughed.

------

So... I didn’t really include the handcuffs from the pic. I tried, I really did. But they didn’t make any sense to the idea I came up with. Hope it’s not that much of a trash. Not my best but... I hope you enjoyed it.

#tts #varian #oneshot #fanfiction #strangling #art inspiration

[kinglivv]

Floating...

13th Doctor X Reader

Summary: The reader is almost assaulted outside a nightclub one night, and The Doctor comes to their rescue.

Warnings: Sexual Assault, drugging, referenced rape, though no one IS raped and nothing is very graphic.

A/N: I've been very lacking in inspiration for 13 recently, so sorry if this isn't my best lol. Thank you to @thatsonezesty13 for the help :)

You weren't a stranger to having creepy men approach you. It's one of the things you hated about nights out - being hit on by a guy who just can't take no for an answer always put a damper on your mood, but tonight you had decided you were going to enjoy yourself. Yaz had persuaded everyone that they needed a break, and also that they needed to give The Doctor a taste of the night life in Sheffield. Of course The Doctor had immediately agreed - she loved a party after all, and being her girlfriend, it was sort of a given that you were her date.

That led you to now, all dressed up, sitting at a bar watching the others out on the dance floor. You had done a bit of dancing yourself, but heels and cocktails don't really mix and you had decided to take a break. The downside to this was that sitting at a bar on your own made you a prime target for all the men who were looking for someone pretty and alone.

"Hey there love, what are you doing here all by yourself?" You hear a smooth voice behind you, and you can only surpress the eye roll.

You turn to look up at the man standing next to you. He's got floppy blonde her, a jaw line that could cut glass and baby blue eyes. He's the sort of person you might have been tempted to go home with if a) you didn't have a girlfriend and b) he hadn't used shitty a pick up line like that one.

"I'm not alone," You point out, putting down your glass. "My friends are over there dancing."

"Shame they left you here by yourself." He leans on the bar so that you can no longer see the dance floor and it's only him in your eye line. "Need anyone to keep you company?"

"I'm good,"

"Aw, come on," He practically coos, and his hand comes to rest on your waist. "Don't play hard to get."

"I'm not interested, okay?" You jerk back so his hand falls from your waist and he snarls.

"Fine, fine," He rolls his eyes. "For someone so pretty, you're a bit of a bitch."

You're about to throw back some sharp retort but he disappears back into the crowd. You sigh, sipping your drink and going back to watching The Doctor and the others.

It's few minutes later that you begin to feel a bit hot. Uncomfortably so - and you decide that maybe you should pop outside for some air. Glancing one last time over at the others, you place your bill on the table and make your way to the door.

You suck in the fresh air as you step outside into the quiet back alley, but it doesn't really help. You don't feel quite right - sort of sick and dizzy. Like you're floating.

"Hey there," You hear that smooth voice again, and look up to find the blonde, with the sharp jawline and baby blue eyes. You say nice - they don't really look so nice anymore.

"What?" You mumble through the haze.

"You don't look so well love, how about you come with me and I'll make you feel better?"

Before you can respond, his hands are on your hips and are pressing you against the cold brick wall. His eyes flash, going from baby blue to a dark scary red, and he bare his teeth. It's in that moment that you realise he's not quite human...

"Hey-" You try to cry out, but his hand goes to your throat and your words disappear. Through the fog in your mind, there's a panic. Is this happening? What is happening?

His hands are all over you and you can feel yourself slipping away, lack of oxygen and that floaty feeling pulling you into the black.

Suddenly the hands disappear. You slump to the floor, and quickly you feel arms encompass you - warm, soft arms, and that familiar smell. Vanilla and cinnamon.

"Y/N?" You hear The Doctor's urgent voice. "Y/N, are you alright? Tell me you're alright..."

Her voice gets further away as you slip into darkness.

---

When you come to, you're not sure where you are. Somewhere soft, that's for sure, and somewhere warm too. You peak an eye open.

"Morning, love," You hear The Doctor's voice, and you tilt your head towards it, your eyes focusing on her.

She's lying next to you, in her usual get up minus the coat and shoes, and you realise you're in her room.

"Hey," You mumble.

"Are you okay?" Her hand goes to stroke up your side. The question is simple and light, but has a heavier meaning behind it. What she's asking is, do you understand what almost happened to you? Can you remember what almost happened to you?

"Yeah," You reply, your voice husky and throat sore. "Doctor..."

"Yes?" Her hand intertwines with yours.

"Did he... do anything? I can't remember much,"

"You're fine Y/N, he didn't manage to do anything before I got there," She says softly. "He drugged you, must have slipped it into your drink. It was a close one but you're alright."

You suck in a shakey breath, a fear and uncertainty settling in your stomach. Sure you were safe, but you couldn't help but comtemplate what might have happened if The Doctor hadn't come. You felt wrong, you felt dirty, you felt violated.

"It's not your fault, Y/N," She tells you quickly, some how reading your mind. "It's his fault and his fault only. We'll find him, and we'll make him pay but for now I need you to remember that you're okay and none of what happened is because of you."

"But he could be anywhere in the universe,"

"But we're both safe," She rushes to reassure you, squeezing your hand. She presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against your chest. "That's never going to happen to you again, okay? Not in a million years, not as long as you're in this TARDIS with me."

You hum. It doesn't feel okay exactly, but it feels good knowing you've got the oncoming storm on your side.

#13th doctor x reader #13th doctor #13th doctor fluff #13th doctor imagine #13th doctor x you #self insert #reader insert #assault #doctor who fanfic #doctor who x reader #doctor who imagines #doctor who

[stefciastark]

Metal Arm ~ Webpril Day 7

A/N: Here is Part 1 of what will be a 2 part mini-story. Doombots threaten Manhattan, but with a significantly reduced team and some bad luck, things don't go so smoothly for Peter. It only briefly touches on the 'metal arm' prompt, but this is also inspired by a request from Hannah on AO3 to write a bit of 'post-battle injured Peter hides his injury and won't admit anything is wrong.' I'm really excited to write Part 2 tomorrow, had a lot of fun writing this first part!

~Read on AO3

~Read on FFN

Peter had never really been strangled, yet today it had happened not twice, not thrice, but it was bordering on his fourth time being on the receiving end of a chokehold. The Doombot cutting off his air circulation ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time however, as three out of its four limbs were obliterated and sent to mecha-heaven. All except the one heavily bicep-ed metal arm that clung to his throat like shit to a shovel.

“Get. OFF,” he gritted through his teeth, tearing the appendage off of his throat and tossing what was now just a torso, head and forelimb onto the growing pile of Doom scrap metal.

He had to take a breather for a moment and remind himself that these were robots and not real people. Despite how convinced their A.Is were that they were in fact the real Doctor Doom, their suicide missions were nothing more than a result of malevolent - albeit skilled - programming.

“You good, kid?” The Ironman suit hovered a few feet away from Peter, appearing to dance slightly in the air as Peter’s brain started playing ‘catchup’ with oxygen. He felt himself nodding in response, muting his comms momentarily so that what was present of the Avengers wouldn’t hear his breathing; he was pretty sure the exhaust pipe on the old Vauxhall Cavalier his uncle used to own sounded healthier.

The team was small today; Thor was offworld, Bruce didn’t feel like having another near miss after almost levelling another city during an incident the week prior near Seattle, and Clint was - as Tony put it - too busy ‘playing house’ in the country. That left Tony, Peter, and Natasha Romanoff on the mission. Peter was unsure whether to call her Nat, Romanoff, or use her Black Widow alias, and instead anxiously settled for using none of the above and simply avoided using any moniker to address her whatsoever. It had worked out for him well so far.

While it was by no means a three person job, they would have to make do, and so far, they were making...something happen. The showdown had initially begun in Hell’s Kitchen and was progressively and concerningly migrating towards the Lower East Side. The closer the action got to the east side of Manhattan, the closer it got to Brooklyn, and the closer it got to Brooklyn, the more there was a chance of the threat moving to Queens, and Peter wanted to keep the rough and tumble away from his neck of the woods if he could. So far they had left in their wake twelve office buildings turned to rubble, eleven burst sewer pipes, and at least ten separate fires that he was pretty sure were still burning. All they needed now were nine civilian casualties and they were almost halfway to rewriting ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’.

Tony didn’t have time to follow up with Peter’s uncharacteristic lack of a verbal response as two Doombots that had split from the herd attached themselves to the red and gold armour, their green capes combining with the suit to make a metallic caricature of a Christmas tree. Tony had a whole three seconds of warning before their self-destruct protocols were activated, and everything within a 300-foot radius erupted in a shower of rubble, flames, and smoke.

The suit - for the most part - diminished Tony’s impact with the building adjacent to the Tenement Museum. Peter didn’t quite have the luxury of inches-thick armour, and as he sailed diagonally across Delancey St through the glass window of Double Chicken Please, he made a personal vow to make them his new go-to fried chicken joint as a form of apology.

“Stark, was that you?” Nat (Peter decided that was the name he felt most comfortable with) queried over the comms, the distant sound of shots being fired and the purring motorcycle beneath her leaking into the background.

A stream of expletives from the man in question poured in through his suit’s speakers. Peter found it funny that if it were anyone but Tony in any other situation other than their current predicament, the frankly obscene amounts of swearing would be concerning.

“How many left on your end, Rushman?” There was a groan and the uncomfortably familiar sound of shifting rubble. “I think we’ve just about wrapped up here.”

Peter had been working on gently extricating himself from where he lay in a supine position behind the bar, struggling to hold onto consciousness through a haze of pain. The wall between Double Chicken Please and Subway had collapsed, half of it inconsiderately laying across his chest. He noted wryly that he didn’t expect himself to be battling unconsciousness behind a bar until he was at least twenty-one, yet here he was, five years too early.

A large bang went off from what sounded like only a block away, which was then followed by a moment of complete and utter stillness.

“I think our last guests just left the party,” offered as an explanation from Nat, finally breaking the silence.

“Don’t you hate it when you have company and they don’t even offer to help clean up? I am sickened by the youth of today.” Tony had managed to disentangle himself from what could now barely be called a building. The engineer was able to identify the date of manufacture on the most recent wave of Doombots - they were only three months old. “Speaking of, Spiderling, let’s get this cleaned up. I have a date with takeaway and my favourite sweatpants waiting for me at home.”

“Try not to wreck any more buildings while I’m gone, boys,” Nat said, immediately beginning her commute to the Avengers facility.

Natasha had become the face of the Avengers during the inevitable PR followups that seemed to accompany any and every brush with threat since the Chitauri attack on New York. She was level-headed and presented well, and so far had the least amount of tallies on the “PR Fuck-ups” chart that hung in the communal kitchen in place of a calendar. It was the team’s personal inside joke that S.H.I.E.L.D didn’t approve of, which of course made them double down their efforts if it meant ruffling Nick Fury’s feathers.

“Try not to wreck my public image, it’s what funds those luxury bath bombs you keep ordering,” Tony shot back, no venom in his teasing words.

Peter was otherwise occupied during his teammates’ little exchange. He had his arms arranged in an upside down tricep pushup position, palms pressing against the sizable concrete slab that occupied the space from his waist to his sternum. As he lifted the offending cement off of him, he very nearly dropped it back down as the air rushed out of his lungs. Something in his chest shifted sickeningly, followed by a stabbing pain that burned everything from his ribs to his airways. Failure never an option, he persevered, relieved when the hunk of wall finally slid gracelessly down the pile of debris.

He thought having a literal chunk of concrete off his chest would feel better.

“Pete?” His name was said with such a mixture of impatience, exhaustion, and concern that Peter found his nerves standing on red alert. This would be the first hour of many on cleanup duties

Taking a wavering breath, afraid to breathe too deeply, he steadied his voice and activated his comms. “Sure thing Mr Stark, on my way!”

Peter winced; he definitely overdid it on the enthusiasm. With every step he took his discomfort grew until the pain from his chest radiated down to his hips and he had to stop himself from hunching over and limping his way back to the Delancey St intersection. There were only two of them now, a whole lot of city to tidy up, and not a whole lot of time to spend fussing over what was probably just some deep tissue bruising. Plus, this was his first call to action since July, and it was now approaching the end of November.

Bracing himself for the amount of suckthe next few hours would entail, he gritted his teeth against the throbbing that rolled like waves from deep within his chest, and prepared to put on his best Oscar-worthy performance he’d titled: “I’m Fine - A Teenager’s Pledge”.

There was no way he was going to let Tony down.

A/N: There we have it! Things didn't go so smoothly for Peter, and I know he has superior healing and all but this poor boy needs some more safety built into his suit. Tomorrow will be the Part 2 fill for this mini-story, so check back in for the concluding part :) Thank you for all your continued support, kudos, and comments. Please feel free to send any fic requests into my Asks! Sending hugs to you all <3

#webpril day 7 #webpril 2021 #irondad fanfiction #marvel #mcu fanfiction #peter parker fanfiction #tony stark fanfiction #peter parker whump #whump fic #h/c fanfiction #h/c #fanfiction #writing prompt #writing challenge #webpril