#rocket tied to chair

[autobot2001]

A Fun April Fool's Prank

Author: Autobot2001 Genre: Fanfiction Fandom: Transformers Rating: E Warning: None Pairing: None Description: Crosshairs has a great idea for April Fool's Day. Inspired by this art. @whumpril day 8: reckless

After learning what April Fool’s Day is, Crosshairs had to play a prank on Drift. He figured Sideswipe never told him about this day since Crosshairs and Drift were always in Jamie’s dimension around the beginning of April. He knows Sideswipe is planning jokes on everyone around the base. Crosshairs has one task on his mind. Using his bipedal form, Crosshairs walks down the hall to the Autobots’ science lab. He is looking for a simple desk chair and some rockets. He still finds it funny the scientists wanted to build a few Cybertronian-sized desk chairs like the humans have.

Once in the lab, Crosshairs finds a few of these chairs. He didn’t know the scientists added leather to the chairs like the humans’ desk chairs. He’s not sure if he’s taking a risk of destroying the chairs with his goal. The metal frame shouldn’t melt should the leather end up on fire. He finds the rockets he needs. He found the rockets quickly, which made him concerned about the lack of security for them. Even if he needs them for his prank.

Crosshairs was aware that the process of attaching rockets to the chair and setting up a switch would be time-consuming. He started this project at ten. Getting a message from Drift has him realize the time. Drift: I’m giving in to Jamie’s desire for McDonald’s for lunch. Crosshairs sees a perfect opportunity for the prank. Crosshairs: I’ll get it. Drift: ok. Crosshairs smiles, knowing there’s an easy way to get the chair to the hangar and he can hide it until he gets back.

After hiding the chair, Crosshairs opts to drive to McDonald’s instead of walking. He transforms, activates his holoform, and drives out of the hangar.

Crosshairs knew the trip would take twenty minutes due to it being noon.

Once back in the hangar, he placed the McDonald’s bag and drink tray in his subspace that’ll keep the food warm and the drinks cold and not tip over. He deactivates his holoform, transforms, and messages Drift to come to the hangar. He quickly gets the chair. “Why’d you want me to come here?” “You think we could bring this chair to Jamie’s dimension?” Crosshairs didn’t think Drift would sit on the chair. Making it easier to do what he wants. He wheels the chair out of the hangar. “Crosshairs, what are you doing?” Drift asks. Crosshairs pushes the chair, jumps on the back of the chair, and activates the rocket, “Crosshairs!”

The chair speeds down the hall. Drift is relieved traffic in the hallway is non-existent. Most are already in the cafeteria. “Get out of the way!” Drift yells to the few in the hallway. Those observing the events inform Prowl and Optimus.

Optimus sees what’s going on. He stands in the hallway by the wall along with Prowl, Lightning’s holoform, and Jamie. “Crosshairs! Wall!” Crosshairs only laughs. Optimus, Prowl, and Lightning didn’t think Jamie would laugh seeing her two guardians on a chair with a rocket attached speeding down the hallway. She stops as the two mechs crash into the wall. The crash damages the rocket and chair. “Are you two ok?” Lightning asks. “I think so,” Crosshairs replies. Drift ended up with a nosebleed. Energon oozing out of his nose. “What the frag was that?!” He yells. “Crosshairs what you did was reckless,” Optimus scolds, leaving out how Jamie was laughing, “overnight in the brig should be punishment enough.” Prowl takes Crosshairs to the brig, while Drift goes to the medbay for his nose. Uncertain if he damaged it that requires repairs. Lightning and Jamie go with him.

While Jamie and Lightning wait for Drift, Prowl’s holoform walks into the medbay. “Here, the lunch Crosshairs got,” he says, handing the bag and drink tray to Lightning, “you can tell Drift that Jamie found the rocket chair funny, but we’re not sure if we should tell Crosshairs.” “Crosshairs is not like Sideswipe. He won’t do this again, regardless of Jamie’s laughter.” “I’ll let you and Drift decide.” Prowl leaves the room.

Drift walks out of the medbay ten minutes later. His nose did need repairs. He goes to the hangar, transforms and activates his holoform. His holoform nose is undamaged. Which is a relief to Drift that the damage to his bipedal form didn’t happen to his holoform. He goes to his room with Lightning and Jamie.

Later that night, Lightning tells Drift Jamie was laughing at the scene and Prowl is leaving it up to them to decide to tell Crosshairs. Believing it’s a good idea. Drift agrees, understanding Crosshairs won’t make the same mistake, but they all want to hear Jamie laugh instead of seeing her depression.

[shinynewwriting]

The nature of being a comics fan is that sometimes you find out there's an issue that caters to all of your interests at once, but you've never heard of it because it was only sold with certain boxes of Cheerios in 2014. Such is the case with General Mills Presents: Justice League #9, featuring the Joker and Superman swapping bodies. (Bless @distort-opia for knowing exactly which cereal-sponsored comic this was)

We open with the news that Superman has gone mad and is defacing Mt. Rushmore! (Honestly, good for him) There's not much time to process this, though, because the Daily Planet has an unwanted visitor who needs to speak with Lois:

They flee to the roof, where the dastardly Harlequin of Hate promptly...empties out his poison guns and visibly has a small breakdown?

No one else can do puppy-dog eyes like Kal-El of Krypton. Clark manages to convince Lois that he's in the Joker's body by recounting their recent, ridiculously cute dates. They are dramatically interrupted, however, by none other than Lex Luthor.

HAHAHAHA I love his silly little rocket boots so much. Look at them! Anyway, Lex's security detains "the Joker", and things are not looking great for Clark.

I'm low-key fascinated by the fact that Clark's about to spill the beans to Lex. Is it because he thinks that whatever Lex will do to him is probably still not as lethal as what Lex would do to the Joker for threatening Lois? Is it because he thinks Lex will probably let him use the Body-Swap 9000 stashed in a lab somewhere if he just begs nicely enough? I love their weird situationship so much. It's all moot, though, because someone else also woke up feeling not quite themselves this morning:

(Vital to note that Bruce has been letting Clark squirm for several minutes thinking he's been captured, because he's a dick <3) So how did this all happen?

Ah, the Weird Kryptonian Artifact trope. Smallville was also a big fan. Notice how Lex and Clark are fighting with laser eyes and energy shields, while the Joker is just full-body tackling Batman because he's shameless. Anyway, the artifact activated and Silliness ensued.

Oh shit, wait, where's our favorite mad scientist during all of this?

HAHAHAHAHA, I would pay real money to see that sequence of events. "Alfred, it happened again. Go upstairs and tase me."

"With pleasure, Master Bruce."

Meanwhile, Lex wakes up reeking of another dude's cologne, blindfolded, and tied to a chair. It's a normal enough morning after for him, is what I'm saying.

Clark realizes he finally gets to be on the other side of all of Lex's shiny anti-Superman toys for once.

Does the fourth wall even exist for you, Joker?

The Joker, waking up in Clark Kent's apartment: "Damn, bitch, you live like this?"

While they are busy subduing SuperJoker, Bruce has a flawless plan for getting the Magic Artifact:

Lois Lane, criminal mastermind.

Lois is asking the real questions, but the Flash has learned not to even bother.

Finally, we come to the most important part of any Superman/Batman team up: the verbal equivalent of a sloppy makeout where they talk about how much they love each other.

All's well that end's well after their exploration of another man's body.

What the hell, this was so delightful???? Just a silly, fun romp through the body swap trope with several of my favorite characters. Thank you, I guess, Cheerios?

[tacticaldiary]

Can you do a fic where reader and simon are kidnapped and simon has to watch reader be tortured and creeped on by their kidnapper for information.Happy endibg with them being rescued.Ignore if it makes you uncomfortable :)

Captured In Tandem

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Content Warning: Torture, Men being creepy, mentions of sexual assault

"I'll give you a choice." He says, cocking the gun. "Shall I put a bullet through you, or her?"

He's been trained to keep his mouth shut, taught himself from enough pain to span a lifetime, but never did he fathom she'd be dragged into it with him. It's unforgivable.

Masterlist, Part 2

A/N: This is literally one of my favourite tropes-

The first thing he registers is the pounding in his head. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ghost claws his way back to consciousness, sluggish mind attempting to click the pieces swimming in his head together into a cohesive narrative.

He was asleep...no, he was unconscious. Why? Ghost doesn't open his eyes for a moment, gathering his bearings. His senses snap to him quickly. The metallic smell of blood, the scent of gunpowder. The hard wood under him...a wooden chair? He exhales sharply, charting the sharp stinging in his side.

Injured.

He can't move his hands, ropes digging into the skin above his gloves. Once he's grasped back his control, steadied his breathing into something calm and acceptable, he takes a second to listen. There's nothing but the steady dripping of what he assumes is water on the floor. A pipe?

He's cold. His hands are freezing and so is his face-

His face?

Ghost's eyes snap open at the realisation.

His mask was gone, ripped off and on the floor by his feet. He's tied to a chair. He doubts he'd have gotten such a warm welcome if he was back at base right now, so where...?

An RPG, he suddenly remembers, a sour taste in the back of his throat. They had been on an OP with Price, the team had been split into two, sent to clear out a building on the outskirts of the city, tasked to meet in the middle.

An unaccounted armed squad had aimed at them with an RPG. Ghost remembers barking out an order to his partner, shoving her roughly out of the way behind a beat up car. The rocket hit the car, igniting the engine causing it to explode, the both of them thrown back against the brick wall behind them and-

Her.

His blood runs cold at the sound of a small groan from in front of him.

Shit.

Slowly, he raises his head and his stomach drops at the sight of her opposite to him in the same state.

Shit. No, this was all wrong. The RPG must have knocked them both out. They'd been captured.

"Fuck, my head." She groans, blinking herself awake. Like him, he can tell she's charting up the extent of her injuries, piecing together the events leading up to their capture.

Price would find them soon. They can't have hauled them too far away under the threat of them waking up mid transportation.

"Sleep well?" He rasps, watching her still, head snapping up to look at him.

"Best I've ever had." She responds dryly, looking him up and down. Her eyes linger on the dried blood staining his shoulder. It's a miracle the both of them ended up as unscathed as they did. Only bruises and scrapes, miraculously. She yanks on her bindings, scowling when they don't budge. Ghost can see the angry red marks around her wrists, the same as his. "We're in for a treat, huh?" She laughs humourlessly, leaning back in her chair. "Don't suppose you keep any knives hidden in your sleeves, L.T?" Half joking. She wouldn't be surprised if he did.

"Can't feel 'em." He grunts. "Must have searched us."

Of course they did.

She shifts in her seat, hating the idea of hands touching and probing at her when she's not awake to bat them away. Ghost would be just as, if not more uncomfortable with the thought, if the angry furrow in his brow is anything to interpret.

Voices. Footsteps. Both of them go rigid in their chairs, eyes snapping to the other. No words are exchanged, but a slight raise of the chin from her. They would not break.

She knows exactly what's to come for them for the next however long it took for their team to retrieve them. She's been through this before, been trained for it, seen it happen, hell she's even participated on being the one not in the chair.

They wouldn't break. The knowledge they have could compromise more than just their current operations. Ghost acknowledges the shaky exhale she lets out, casts her an unreadable look before the door swings open behind him, his eyes turning cold once more.

If she notes the tension in his shoulders, she doesn't mention it.

Three men walk into the room, mumbling under their breath. Russian. A quick glance to confirm the other caught it.

The thing with the both of them is that they worked better together than anybody else in the team. Working in tandem, information exchanged with just a glance, seemingly in tune with every thought and movement of the other. It's why they were almost always paired together.

"Some of the best your the military has to offer, you are.." He smiles, flicking through the file. "It seems I have struck a goldmine." The file snaps shut, is handed off the someone else.

She hopes the motherfucker gets a nasty papercut.

                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

They come twice a day. Once for him, once for her.

Ghost keeps his mouth shut, isn't surprised when she does as well. The both of them have been trained for situations like this, have both gone through a lot of shit that renders them capable of handling it.

It's her that he hasn't been trained to account for.

Ghost had only jeered at the men that interrogated him. Drenched after being waterboarded, bloody from being cut and beat, he had not given them a single thing to work with, taking what they threw at him with a calm, strong, cool exterior.

It was when they turned to her that he felt that crack.

Every knife turned against her, every crack of her bones, each small sound of pain that left her had an anger he'd never felt before bubble up inside him. Glaring death into the people who lay their hands on her as they questioned her, he stayed silent, unmoving as they put her through the same routine as him.

"Not long before they find us now." She'd said hoarsely after the second day. They'd just left them after being unsuccessful in loosening their tongues. Again. He takes in how her arm bends at a strange angle (He'd never forget the scream that teared out of her throat when they snapped it in half), the cuts dripping blood onto the floor and on her tattered clothes (Each one he'd pay back tenfold, he swears), and the exhaustion lining her face the same way he's sure he looks.

Being unmasked...it makes him more on edge than usual.

It's nothing she'd never seen before. She'd touched his bare face countless times, mumbled promises and declarations they had no business making against his lips at night. It had always been in private, shielded from the eyes of others. Now, out in the open, he was more aware of his reactions than ever before, refusing to let out any reaction except for the occasional grunt of pain.

"They're sure taking their damn time." He spits out.

"Gonna give them an earful when I get back." She cough, watery. Ghost's eyes widen when blood splatters to the floor. "Shit." She breathes, inhaling shakily.

Internal bleeding. A telltale sign.

He yanks against his bindings for the hundredth time. Nothing changes aside from more blood trickling down his torn open skin.

"Don't think about it." He orders. "Look here." When she doesn't listen, just blinking at the blood she coughed up as if in a trance, he repeats himself roughly, drawing her attention.

"Right here. Keep your eyes on me." He commands, and it's all she can do to let instinct take over and listen to his low voice. "That's it, love. Good."

She opens her mouth. Shuts it. Swallows dryly and tries again. "If I-"

"Shut up."

"Ghost." She says weakly, "It's a possibility, and if-"

"I told you to shut up." He hisses, fixing her with a glare.

She was in a much worse state than him. Far bloodier. They were rougher with her, thinking she'd be the first one to break, to concede under pain and answer their questions.

Safehouses, plans, locations, inner workings. The intel they stole a month ago. They wanted to know answers that neither of them would ever give them.

The door swings open. The man from the first day walks in, in crisp clothes, wrinkling his nose and the sight of them.

The sight makes Ghost pause. He was in charge here, clearly. This kind of work wasn't normally put on people like that, which meant that things were getting serious. Something had sparked urgency in them if they were seeing this guy. Something had changed.

The 141.

As if on cue, there's the distant sound of gunfire, and the building trembles slightly, dust cracking down from the ceiling. It's ignored by the man completely.

"Admirable, you are." He addresses them. "But I'm afraid there's not time for a soldier's pride during war." They stiffen when he pulls out a revolver from his pocket, clicking open the empty chamber. "I require answers. Call it compensation for what was stolen from me. I don't think you understand that I will get my way in the end. By whatever means necessary."

A single bullet. Loaded into the chamber. Ghost follows the movement with his eyes.

"I'll give you a final chance to be cooperative before I give you a choice." The Russian says evenly, looking at them both in turn.

"Go to hell." Ghost drawls. In his bloodied, beaten state, weak from blood loss and in a disarray from being tortured, he seems to look even more intimidating than usual.

The man sighs deeply. He clicks the chamber shut.

He aims at her and fires.

She barely has the chance to tense before a click fills the room. Nothing. It's when he turns the gun to Ghost that her breath catches in her throat, panic clawing it's way up and through her veins.

Ghost does not flinch. Does not wince or react, merely holds her gaze calmly, in that reassuring steady way he always has.

Click. Nothing.

He continues moving back and forth between them until there's only one chamber left. An undeniable bullet inside. The man turns to Ghost, a smile on his face.

"The choice you have, my friend, is which one of you I put this bullet through."

Ghost visibly stiffens in his chair, fixes him with a scathing stare.

"If you refuse to answer, I have no issue shooting you both." He says evenly, weighing the revolver in his hands. "So who will it be? You, or your lady?" He points the gun back and forth, her heart in her throat.

Me. She thinks. Pick me. The thought of him taking that bullet when there's a choice for her to instead makes her sick.

But it's Ghost. And he's selfless in the most annoying of ways.

"Me." He says tightly, the words forced out and full of venom.

The Russian grins, pleased, raising the gun. She's about to yell at him, tell him to shoot her instead-

She doesn't have to.

The gun turns to her, fires, and pain explodes in her right thigh, wrenching out a scream from between her clenched teeth as she doubles over. Her vision goes black for a second and she can't breathe.

Yelling. There's yelling over the ringing in her ears. Ghost shouts profanities at the man, threats and growls as his chair scrapes against the floor at his attempts to get loose.

He breaks.

The Russian simply laughs, tucking his gun away.

Where the fuck were they? Where were the others? The team? They were close, that much was obvious, so why the fuck weren't they here yet, then?

She gasps when her head is wretched back painfully by her hair, pain thrumming through her like sharp needles as she's forced to straighten up. It hurts, fuck, it hurts worse accompanied with every other goddamn thing wrong with her right now.

"You just couldn't seem to stop looking at her. I thought It'd be more of an incentive to loosen your tongue." He chuckles at Ghost's fury.

"They won't find your body." He hisses, low and threatening, eyes wild. "I'll make sure you're in so many pieces you-"

"I understand why, though." He continues on like Ghost isn't threatening great bodily harm on him. "She's quite the beaty isn't she? Even under all that gore...so easy on the eyes."

She had taken beating after beating. Cracked ribs, cuts and bruises, waterboarding and being prodded with a hot poker, but this? The lecherous way he looks her up and down, yanks he head back farther to expose her neck? It makes her blood run cold, her heart stop.

His breath fans across her face, acrid and disgusting. A choked sob tears out of her lips when his hand trails up her body, grabbing and yanking and pulling in places he has no right to touch. Her head spins from the bullet wound and the pain, and it takes a lot to gather her thoughts.

"Motherfucker-" Ghost snarls.

"I know you're bad at sharing but you wouldn't mind if I had a taste, would you?" He croons at Ghost, who jolts in his chair, pulling at his bleeding broken skin to get loose. "Not that you can do much but watch." He laughs.

This, she would not let happen. She would not let him take something that was hers and hers alone to give to whomever she decided. When he leans down farther, she gathers all her remaining strength and rears her head back, smashing it into his nose.

The satisfying crunch of bone and yell of pain makes it all worth it, draws a smile from her, even if his blood splatters the side of her face.

"Bitch." He spits out. A hand cracks across her face so hard black spots float over her vision. She cries out as it jostles her leg, her broken arm, all her cuts and and he ribs. Before she can gather her bearings, a searing pain pierces through her side, the Russian's knife driving straight into her flesh. She can't help the choked scream that leaves her, hears the way Ghost shouts, his struggling intensifying.

He wretches her out of the chair, shoves her to the floor. Tears track down her bloodied cheeks, not out of fear, but out of pure pain and anger. Disgust, pain and rage is what she feels when the Russian straddles her hips, keeping a hand on her broken arm to keep her down. His other one wraps around her neck, squeezing roughly to cut off her air.

"Answer my questions." He seethes at Ghost. "Your safehouses, the intel you fucking stole from us. Where are they!? Tell me or you'll see this pretty thing die." As if to prove his point, he squeezes harder, making her choke.

Ghost spits out threats that would make any normal man quiver. He would rip this man apart. Rip into him slowly with all his knives, prolong it as much as he could. Days, maybe even weeks. He deserved to die by his hands for what he's done to her, for touching someone so wholly and utterly his. Every single cut he'd return tenfold, twice as deep.

Part of her wants to succumb to the darkness edging her vision, but she's afraid if she does she might never wake up. She couldn't die. Not here, not like this. Ghost...Simon would blame himself, she knows it. He'd replay it over and over again, wonder if he could have done anything to prevent it.

"Get the fuck off of her!" He seethes. Seeing her under him, red in the face and bleeding, dying makes panic tear through him, a horrible desperate feeling he can't help but succumb to. She wasn't going to die, he wouldn't allow it.

Not her. Not her. Anyone but her. Take me instead.

The world was fucking cruel.

The past year had been the best of his life. The lightest, the most at peace he'd ever felt. Loving her came easily, naturally. Something he couldn't help even when he tried to push her away.

Her eyes catch Ghost's. His are desperate and frantic in a way she's never seen before. That...that was panic. But that couldn't be right because Ghost? He didn't panic. He planned and adapted, got angry and was calm. Panicking? She'd never seen it before.

Fuck. She wasn't going to die. She...was, wasn't she? Already, her vision was slipping away, her hearing going muffled. No. No, this isn't it. Not here, not like this.

If she died, Simon might, as well, and she loved him to much to leave him in a situation like this.

Clenching her jaw, she blindly reaches her bound hands to her side. When her fingers brush against the hilt of the dagger inside her flesh, she pauses.

It was the only thing keeping her from bleeding out faster than her bullet wound was already doing...

She yanks it out with all the strength she has left, slams it into the throat of the man above her. He's too busy with Ghost to chart her up as a threat. The way his eyes bug out of his head as he releases her throat in favour of clutching his own has a sob ripping through her mangled throat as she gasps in greedy gulps of air.

She shoves the man off her and in movements wild and jerky, climbs on top of him switching their positions. Ripping the knife out of his throat, she yells a broken shout as she brings it down over his chest. Then his shoulder, his neck. His chest. Over and over again, tears blurring her vision, adrenaline making her shaky, she drives the knife into him again and again thinking about nothing but killing him, taking his life so he couldn't take theirs, so she could feel her skin stop itching from the way she was touched.

"-dead, he's dead!" A voice floats to her, far, far away.

A name...her name. Her movements slow down as she recognises Ghost's voice calling out at her. Confused, disorientated, she glances over her shoulder, pausing, chest heaving.

"You're alright, sweetheart." He says, his eyes a fraction wider than usual. "Here, look at me. Right here, love." He waits till she drags her gaze up. "He's dead. It's enough."

Enough.

The word cracks something in her, the knife clattering onto the stone floor and she looks down at the bloody, unrecognisable mess under her. Scrambling off of him, she leans over and vomits up bile; acrid and burning her throat as it comes out. A strangled sob leaves her as she finishes, realising the sheer amount of blood on her. Her hand shakily goes to her side, comes back bloody in a way that makes her head spin.

"Grab the knife." Ghost urges, looking ready to try to snap the chair under him himself to reach her. "Can you do that for me? Pass me that knife." When she doesn't respond the way he wants, Ghost takes in a shaky breath and repeats himself, voice hard.

"Sergeant. The knife." He commands, low and deep and urgent.

Still a soldier despite her trembling, her body reacts to the order automatically, head clearing. Swallowing, she moves slowly, agonisingly to reach the knife.

"You're doing good." Ghost praises when she drops the knife for the second time from her shaky fingers. "Bring it here."

The moment the knife reaches his fingertips, he cuts through his bonds, kneeling in front of her, cutting hers off too. "I've got you." He murmurs, pulling her close, laying her over his lap as gently as he can as he looks over her. He doesn't really need to, it's more instinct to do so. Ghost was watching her the entire time. He knows the location of every single one of her injuries.

Swearing under his breath, he leans over, roughly rips part of the dead man's shirt off, bunching it up and pressing it against each of her two wounds. She whimpers, a strangled sound that makes him clench his jaw in rage and worry.

"I know it hurts." He consoles her while he secures another part of the shirt around the wounds. "You did well, it's over now." Mindless talk. He just needed to keep her awake.

Her hand closes over his, stilling him as he ties the final knot.

"'m sorry." She breaths, shallow and short. "Can't...Just go." She shoves weakly at his shoulder, and the incredulous, angry look Simon gives her would have been funny if everything wasn't on fire inside her.

"I'm not fucking leaving you, you dolt." He snaps, slowly pulling her up so she's sitting. The way she bites her lip hard to keep in the whine of pain doesn't escape him. "Easy." He says, supporting her despite his own screaming ribs. His left leg was mangled up, ankle dislocated so Ghost doubts he'd be walking with her out of here.

It was too risky. They could run into someone armed, and at such a disadvantage...no, it was better to stay here and wait for the others to show up.

Her eyes flutter, panic slams into him.

"None of that." He demands, prodding her forehead to make her focus. "Keep those pretty eyes on me, love."

A small huff from her that might have been a laugh sends her into a harsh coughing fit. "'m trying Simon." She whispers, words slur.

"Try harder." He squeezes her closer to him, keeping an ear out for footsteps.

"So hard to please." Barely a whisper. "You...you're okay?"

"Christ, woman," he huffs, leaning down to press his lips against her bloody forehead. "I'm better off than you."

A slight smile, her eyes fluttering shut. The loose grip she'd had on Ghost's vest slackens. His bloods turns to ice.

"Hey." He tries, calls out her name. "Hey!" He yells it this time, shakes her gently. Then rougher when she doesn't wake up, breath stuck in his throat. No. No, she was still breathing, he chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

This wouldn't work. Ghost steels himself and stands up, gritting his teeth at the pain that radiates up his leg into his whole body. Ignoring it, he hauls her up in his arms, stumbles slightly.

Staying here wasn't an option anymore, not when she was unconscious, not when the small puffs of breath against his neck could stop at any moment, not when he could lose her.

Gripping onto the small bloody knife, he limps towards the door, pushes it open without hesitation.

He'd walk for a mile like this if it meant he'd get to hear her laugh again. Fuck his own injures, her wellbeing was more important. Ghost moves the knife between his teeth, bone clacking against metal, metallic blood on his tongue. Hiking her up more securely, he starts down the hall, intending to find his team before they found him.

He'd die before he ever let her bleed out on his watch.

                               · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

Her hearing comes to her first. Muffled, but still present. Under the dark haze of sleep, she hears muffled noises. The steady beeping of a machine, the rustling of bedsheets nearby. A voice talking int he distance, something she's unable to make out.

It takes too much out of her. Her mind is sluggish, thinking is hard, so sinking back into the arms of whatever is pulling her down is easier. Painless.

The second time her sense of touch returns.

Someone's holding her hand. Rough, calloused fingers, running up and down her palm, soothing gestures than accompany the beeping that she realises is a heart monitor. The familiar pressure, the roughness of those hands, the soothing movements...it lulls her back to sleep almost immediately.

The third time is quick.

Her sight returns last, One moment she's seeing darkness, the next she's blinking up at white florescent lights, the clean scent of hospital waking her up. What...?

Pushing herself up, a gasp tears out of her throat when she finds herself unable to move. Blinking and looking down, she swallows as she sees herself.

Covered in bandages, a cast around her arm. Heavy wrapping around her thigh and chest. All of her is stiff and achy. It all comes back to her in a rush.

The chair. The ropes. The bullets and beatings.

The blood.

Her stomach lurches at the memories. Simon? Where was Simon? He made it out, right? What if-

Her mind immediately settles down when she spots him. Ghost lays on the hospital bed next to hers, eyes shut, chest steadily rising up and down. Relief slams into her so hard tears prick her eyes. They made it out. Both of them. For a moment she thought...

The need to be near him, to touch him, to make sure he's real wins over her desire to stay put and ward of any discomfort. Her second attempt at moving is successful, only because of the strong pain meds dulling the edge of pain she's feeling.

Slowly, she pulls herself to the edge of the hospital bed, gingerly lowering herself onto the ground. She gasps when her leg protests, the one she was shot in. Testing her weight, she glances desperately at Simon, still sleeping. She needed him, needed to touch him, to feel him under her hands, solid and real.

She uses the walls to support her, shuffling over until she's in front of his bed. After taking a moment to gather herself and breathe, she reaches out with a shaky hand, places it on his cheek. Her throat closes at the feeling of his warm skin.

Ghost being Ghost wakes up instantly at the touch. Eyes snapping open, instantly alert even when just waking up.

Relief fills his face, something so powerful it makes a small sound push past her lips, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. "You're okay." She whispers, hoarse from not talking.

"You shouldn't be up." He responds, propping himself up with a wince she doesn't miss. He frowns at the way she trembles, looking her up and down slowly.

"I just..." She brings a hand up to wipe off her tears. "Sorry if I woke you." A watery chuckle. "Just needed to make sure, you know?"

"I do." He admits. Ghost's hand slips up her uninjured arm, guiding her onto the bed with him until she's laying down. A long, shaky exhale pushes itself out of her as she lays her head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat, quicker than usual but still steady soothes her instantly. He was familiar, the dips in his body, the hard muscle and those arms. It was so achingly familiar she wanted to cry.

Having her here, having her in her arms and holding her...it was almost too much to bear. Ghost had never felt relief like this.

11 days.

11 days she hadn't woken up, each one made him more irritable, restless, snappy. He was ordered to stay in bed, but he got out of it every night to sit next to her, holding her hand, just silently watching over her. 11 days was plenty of time for him to think, to run through everything he did to figure out a way he could have prevented this.

It was plenty of time to realise that he'd never take her for granted, even if there was a gun to his head.

He'd carried her all the way out of the building until he'd spotted Gaz. The poor bloke had done a double take at them, shouted something frantically in his comms and ran at them.

Ghost had forced himself to stay awake as the others arrived, forced himself to make sure she got the care she needed, sat awake with the the entire time on the heli, until they got to the hospital. Only then had he let himself get checked over and crashed hard, exhausted in a way that ran deep into his bones.

"I'm glad you're okay." He says quietly into her hair, strong arms pulling her close, their bodies intertwined.

"Are you sure this is okay?" She asks, though the way she sinks into him says she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon. "Don't want to accidently hurt you or reopen anything."

"You're worse off than me, I think I should be the one worrying about that." He responds, rubbing small circles on her waist. Soothing. Calming.

"I'll always worry." She mumbles against his chest, already feeling sleep pulling her in.

"Your downfall." He huffs, pressing his lips to her forehead for a long moment. "Thought I lost you." The admission is something vulnerable, real. Painful.

"Rather me than you." She responds, eyes slipping shut.

"Say that again and see where it lands you." He grumbles, arms tightening around her. Being as helpless as he was in that situation wasn't something he'd ever forget. Having to sit there, watch those bastards touch her, hurt her, forcing himself to look impassive and cold. Unreacting.

It had been a worse torture than any of their knives.

The second he was cleared to leave the medbay, he was going on a nice little trip back. He'd retrace his steps, get Price to get him the name of every. Single. Motherfucker that had been in the building that day.

Every single one would meet a fate worse than death itself could present them with.

They'd pray for the reaper before Ghost was done with them. He'd make them beg, draw out every single scrape they left on her until they begged to be spared. Only then would Ghost let them bleed out, nice and slow. Maybe he'd even do it one at a time, make the others watch.

They're dark thoughts, but the fury that had been boiling inside him for the past two weeks needed to an outlet, and what better place than the very bastards that had dared to lay their hands on her? The thought pacifies him for now.

He's assured his revenge, but she's more important than anything like that could ever be to him.

"I'm sorry I scared you. You can't get rid of me that easy, though. Thought you knew that by now." Completely unfazed by his threat.

"I wouldn't want to." He assures her, rolling his eyes. "It'd be a bloody shame to lose someone like you, love."

It makes her smile against him, tucking her head into the crook of his neck. Safe. She was safe here.

It doesn't take long before she's drifted off again, securely in his arms.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

Part 2

(09/07/2023)

[iminmywritersdungeon]

Vi is possibly the most tragic character to me, if only in the sense that she always has the best intentions, and she always tries to do what she thinks is right, except for those few moments where she is clouded by grief.

She’s on the bridge with Powder, trying to keep her safe from this large man whose intentions they do not know, and then she sees her mother, and she just breaks down.

She tries to turn herself in, to right the wrongs that she has made, and then Benzo’s dead and Ekko is in her arms and she just grabs her siblings and goes after Vander without thinking it through, telling Powder you’re not ready because she’s just trying to hold onto the last good thing she has.

She’s standing over Vander’s corpse and she hears her little sister and she thinks you weren’t ready you weren’t ready you’re a jinx jinx jinx and then she looks down at her bleeding knuckles and she can’t do this she can’t be here so she walks away, and then she turns and she tries to go back. She tries to do the right thing and she’s taken away before she can take any action.

She tries to go back, to be the sisters they once were, she tries to keep things good between Powder and Caitlyn except too much has changed, she doesn’t know what’s going on, there’s people fighting them, and she just looks and she sees sweet innocent Powder mowing people down like it’s fun.

She’s tied to that chair with Silco’s body across from her and she’s grieving she’s mourning the loss of the little sister she knew and she’s trying to fix things with the little sister she has and all she can do is plead with Jinx that they can be ok, they can still fix this.

But Caitlyn is unconscious on the floor, and a rocket is fired across a blood red sky.

There is no fixing, only building anew

[leth-writes]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Warnings: discussions of violence and being held hostage, but it's quite brief.

let me know if anyone wants more!

Simon x reader who was held hostage

Simon first met you while he was on a mission; he was clearing out the rest of the building when he spotted you, a final hostage tied to a chair and badly beaten. 

When you saw him, you absolutely lost your mind, whimpering and crying and begging him not to hurt you. You’re hyperventilating, trying so hard to see through your horribly bruised face, nose broken and bleeding heavily, and all you can see in the dim light is this hulking figure with a gun and a face shaped like a skull.

He swears softly, under his breath, and informs the rest of the 141 he’s found another hostage. It’s up to him to calm you down and get you out before the fighting kicks back up again. 

He’s got his hands up, gun on the ground, as he slowly approaches, ready to cut the ropes binding you with a knife.

You freak out even harder, screaming and pleading, fully convinced he’s going to slit your throat or torture you even worse. You’d already told your captors they had the wrong person, that you didn’t know anything, and they’d obviously sent in the most intimidating man they had in the building.

He’s trying to calm you down, low voice attempting to croon out soft reassurances, but the mask is really ramping up your panic until you can’t even focus on what he’s saying. As a result, he’s forced to pull it off.

The sight of his heavily ringed eyes and chiseled, handsome face is enough to snap you out of your panic attack, and it’s then you notice the small British flag on his arm. 

You burst back into tears and he’s convinced he’s just managed to scare you worse, until you start thanking him over and over again.

He cuts you out of the binds and you rocket into his chest, blubbering and burying your face deep into his chest. He’s rubbing your back as you cry.

The two of you meet up again so you can treat him for saving you, you insisted, and the rest is history

He works so hard not to scare you; all he can see in his nightmares is your horrified face that dreary day you met.

He never wears the mask around you. Ever. 

Tells you everything about him, paying special attention to all the stupid little mistakes he’s ever made, just to convince you not to view him as this intimidating myth; he doesn’t want you being scared of him, not like everyone else.

Does his best to protect you. You already know everything about him, but he makes sure his fellow teammates know your name and that you have ways to contact them, just in case something happens. Definitely threatens them to make sure they don’t contact you needlessly or scare you off with their brash, intimidating demeanors.

[orpheusluvr]

Picture Pleaser (Joseph x Female Reader)

Slight NSFW (nothing too explicit or detailed)

You have a match against the Photographer (Joseph), but he seems to take a particular interest in one survivor…

(I played as Joseph yesterday after not playing as a hunter in so long and all I’m gonna say is that it’s fun playing AS him, not against him 😭 anyways he’s handsome asf and that’s why I decided to write this fic <3 )

There were just 2 ciphers left, and 2 survivors remaining. You and Matthias. But just as you were about to start decoding the cipher in front of you, Matthias was knocked down by the hunter. He was immediately tied to a rocket chair and he was also immediately eliminated since he was already chaired twice before. You took a deep breath, knowing that you were the last survivor.

There was no point surrendering, you just had to try your best. Even if it meant that you couldn’t win. It just felt good knowing that you managed to escape.

Your heart beat suddenly increased. You gulped as you tried hiding. But that was useless.

“Found you.” Joseph smiled, appearing in front of you.

You tried to make a quick run from him, but he quickly managed to pin you against the wall with his blade, piercing the hem of your dress.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He said.

He brought his face closer to you.

“You can’t run away from me, my dear.” He purred.

You gulped. Looking at his face up close made your stomach do cartwheels. You couldn’t fail to admit that he was breathtakingly handsome.

After a moment of admiring him, you snapped back to reality.

“Are you going to knock me down or what? Let the match end already.” You sighed.

Joseph’s expression changed.

“Not until I’m done with you.” He smiled.

“You’ve won the game though.” You said.

He shook his head and laughed.

“My dear, indeed I have won the game. But…”

He traced the side of your face with his cold finger.

“…I haven’t won you, yet.”

As your eyes widened, Joseph removed the blade from your dress and pulled you towards him. His hands tightly gripping your waist as he looked down at you.

A hunter trying to win over a survivor? You never thought something like that would even be possible.

But still, among all of the hunters that you’ve played against, Joseph was the nicest one. There were times where he’d either let you escape if you were the last one left and even on some rare occasions he’d let you escape with another survivor.

He saw you staring lovingly into his eyes.

“Seems like I’m making some progress.” He said, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. As he was about to move back, you suddenly kissed his lips. He was slightly startled by the sudden gesture, but he accepted the kiss, pulling you closer to him. Embracing your warmth.

“I love you, Y/N.” He said as he pulled away.

“I love you too.” You said, smiling. It felt extremely weird that you were confessing your love to a hunter, but it didn’t limit your happiness. After today, you felt much safer around Joseph, as if he was there to protect you.

And it was true, he’d do anything to protect the one that he truly loves.

“I never cared about winning this match. I just wanted to win you. And I finally have.” He said, holding your face. You embraced each other once again, before Joseph lifted you up and carried you to the exit gate.

[mj-iza-writer]

I’ve been thinking about vampire hunter x lab vampire whumpee.

Imagine caretaker killing vampires all their life but suddenly decided to research vampires to better hunt them. Caretaker finally capturing whumpee, Fortunately whumpee is one of those good vampires. Caretaker of course doesn’t know this and just assumes whumpee is one of the evil vampires. Whumpee trying to explain to caretaker that they’re innocent but they’re muzzled so they can’t say anything, Even then caretaker doesn’t actively hurt whumpee outside of researching

Anyways its find to hard a trope where vampire hunters are caretakers. The last time i’ve seen vampire hunter caretaker are from ash & callum but even the author stopped updating.

So i want to thank you for doing this ask and remember to take care of yourself💛

I am so sorry about how long this took. I didn't like how the first story was going, so I rewrote it. I really hope you enjoy. Thankyou for the request as well.

Caretaker had requested for one of their friends to trap a vampire for them to study while they were recovering from a recent illness.

They had hoped to get back to the hunt as soon as they could, but this illness was lasting to long. They figured the next best thing would be to study one and help the hunt.

Their friend smirked while they rolled the box into Caretaker's study.

"You're package is here", their friend slammed it down roughly.

"Grayson, be careful with my new lab rat", Caretaker rolled in quickly.

"Sorry, they've been a little annoying in there, so I thought I'd shake them up a little", Grayson slammed down on the box.

Caretaker rolled around and looked it over.

"How are you feeling?", Grayson looked at them worriedly.

"It's still in me. I really wish it would give me back my legs at least", Caretaker sighed as they moved their wheelchair around.

"Well you get some cool wheels", Grayson started to pull nails out of the box to open it, "when you get back out to hunting, we can add an engine or rockets to your chair", Grayson chuckled, "you'd be able to catch those vampires then."

"I don't know about that", Caretaker smiled.

"Well this is your vampire... they got a little banged up while I was capturing them", Grayson finally pulled the side of the box away to reveal the vampire.

Caretaker looked in and saw them tied in a kneeling position. They seemed to be squinting in the new lighting.

"I'd say you roughed them up quite a bit", Caretaker studied them closely.

"They're a fighter, so be warned. Get help if you need them to be moved", Grayson reached in and grabbed at the vampire.

"Stop fighting me", Grayson smacked at them when the vampire pulled away.

Caretaker watched as Grayson strapped the vampire to a metal table in the lab.

"I just plan on keeping them strapped to that for now", Caretaker watched as the vampire fought against the restraints. Muffled screams and what seemed to be curses exited its gagged mouth. "They won't get out of it, and it has wheels so I can wheel them around, plus it's the perfect height for me."

"Still be careful", Grayson warned, "they will take advantage of you if they get a chance."

Caretaker nodded, "come on, I got money for your troubles."

"No no, consider it a gift", Grayson smirked up at the vampire, who was staring angrily at them both, "one less vampire out their. Plus, you may learn some things that will help us hunters."

"I have to give you something for your troubles. You look about as banged up as they do", Caretaker looked them up and down.

"Well if you insist... I am hungry, and I know you are a great cook", Grayson made a sly smile, "I would love a meal."

"I can do that, this way to the kitchen", Caretaker started to push their wheelchair forward, but was surprised when Grayson started to help them.

"Are you okay if I give you a hand?", Grayson saw their surprise and stopped.

"Yes that would be great", Caretaker nodded, "thankyou."

The vampire started to squirm on the table again when they saw them leaving the room.

"Just stay their", Grayson ordered, "Caretaker will be back to deal with you later."

The vampire looked around the room nervously.

"Why is all of this happening?", they whispered into the gag.

The vampire gasped as a knife was sliced along their arm.

"Amazing that you feel it, but there is no blood", Caretaker sighed.

"Hmm-himph", the vampire mumbled into the gag.

"What's that?", Caretaker grinned, "do want the gag taken off?"

The vampire quickly nodded and looked at them longingly.

"How about later when I'm finished with you", Caretaker mocked, "maybe I'll let you plead for it later."

Caretaker made another cut in a different area, then came back to the first.

"Where did it go?", Caretaker took a closer look.

The vampire strained to look at their arm, then glared at Caretaker.

Caretaker looked at the second cut and found it to had vanished.

"Amazing.... you can heal that quickly?", Caretaker studied them.

The vampire made a quirk jerk, causing Caretaker role back quickly.

Caretaker looked up and saw the slight smirk on the vampire's face.

"Oh you have jokes, hmm", Caretaker frowned, "we'll here is your prize... you get no blood tonight."

The vampire's smirk disappeared.

"Exactly... let's see how fast that healing factor works when your blood reserves are diminished", Caretaker smiled evilly, "exciting isn't it?"

The vampire started to thrash on the table.

"Yep, get it all out before you go into storage", Caretaker rolled away.

Caretaker came back once the vampire settled on the table again.

"You're finally done?", Caretaker sighed.

Whumpee nodded weakly and made made a tired gasp.

"I suppose we can take the gag out of your mouth now", Caretaker reached up to undo it.

Caretaker watched as the vampire stretched and closed its mouth a few times.

"Do you.... do you torture all of your prisoners before you know anything about them? I would at least like to know the name of a person before I stabbed them", the vampire glared.

"So I suppose you get the name of every neck you bite then", Caretaker locked their wheelchair into place.

"I know all of the people that feed me, because I have human friends that help me", the vampire frowned, "I'm less of a monster than you and your buddy Grayson."

"Really contemplating putting the gag back in your mouth now", Caretaker frowned, "are you always this annoying?"

"Oh yeah, I don't like what you're saying so let's just stuff a scarf down your throat", the vampire argued, "typical hunter."

"Typical vampire to think their opinion matters", Caretaker prided.

Caretaker started to think about which cell they wanted to use during a silent moment.

"It's Whumpee, by the way."

"Hmm?", Caretaker hummed as they weren't paying attention.

"My name is Whumpee", the vampire repeated, "in case you want to use some sort of decency while interacting with me."

"Why would I want to be decent with you, blood sucker?", Caretaker frowned.

"I don't know.... just a thought", Whumpee looked down over themself, at least as far as they could see.

"Well stop thinking", Caretaker started to roll away, "I'm going to make sure your cell is ready for you."

Whumpee waited for them to leave before they looked around the room for some way out.

"Bingo", Whumpee whispered as they noticed the tables had a button release for the restraints, "hunters are so stupid."

They could hear the squeak in Caretaker's wheelchair getting close.

'I will learn a few things about this one before I escape', Whumpee decided to themself.

"So then what's you name", Whumpee studied the halls while the table was pushed to their cell.

"Why do you want to know?", Caretaker stated gruffly.

"Just wanted to know what to call you... that's it....geesh", Whumpee frowned, "I'm really not the enemy here, you know. I get my blood from willing friends. I haven't attacked a single human besides when your friend attacked me tonight. I'm actually rea...."

"Do you ever stop talking?", Caretaker questioned harshly.

"Sorry", Whumpee whispered.

The next night Caretaker slammed the cell door opened.

"I have decided to autopsy you open today", Caretaker announced gleefully.

"Like hell you will", Whumpee used their telekinesis to hit the button to unlock their restraints.

Caretaker quickly slammed the cell bars shut before Whumpee could get out.

"What the heck do you think you're doing?", Caretaker yelled.

"Freaking surviving, you idiot", Whumpee yelled back, "I'd rather not be cut open, thanks."

"I was joking", Caretaker frowned, "what, can't take a joke?"

"Not one like that... I don't know what you want from me. You've already cut into me twice", Whumpee knelt on one knee while still on the table, "I'm not chancing it."

Grayson was called back in to gain control of the vampire.

"Do you have a table that doesn't have an unlocking system like that?", Grayson questioned while they held Whumpee's head down against the floor.

Whumpee tried to squirm out of their grip, but Grayson was definitely stronger at this very moment.

Whumpee resorted to yelling curses atbthem both.

"I have a chair, but it's not mobile", Caretaker frowned, "it's in the lab."

Whumpee was restrained and pushed forward by Grayson.

Whumpee limped weakly and tiredly. They were using too much of their blood reserve to try to heal everything again.

Grayson got them situated into the chair, and left soon after. They still had a few hits before morning.

"Please.... I-I need blood", Whumpee whispered.

"After that?", Caretaker yelled, "are you that bold?"

"I was... just trying to... survive", Whumpee whispered, "you'd... do the same."

"You get no blood", Caretaker turned their chair and rolled away.

Whumpee leaned forward in the chair. Their blood reserve was gone, and any injuries sustained now. Wouldn't be healed.

'I have to behave', Whumpee told themself, 'and hope for mercy.'

Caretaker left Whumpee alone for the rest of the night and went to fall asleep.

Whumpee also fell asleep... this was the first time they had fallen asleep in years. They were too weak to keep their eyes open.

"Wake up."

Whumpee felt someone smacking at their cheek semi gently.

"Mmm", Whumpee moaned as they opened their eyes.

"I didn't know vampire slept", Caretaker rolled away once they saw Whumpee was awake.

"They do when their blood reserve is low", Whumpee kept their head lowered.

"How are you so low already... I was planning on a few days", Caretaker reached for a scalpel.

"My friends were out of town... I haven't fed for a few nights. I was on my way to see them when your friend kidnapped me", Whumpee saw the scalpel out of the corner of their eye and tried to pull away, "I can't heal anything you do to me... please have mercy. I haven't done anything to deserve your torment."

"You're a vampire... you deserve all of this", Caretaker sliced at Whumpee's arm.

Whumpee gasped again and looked away.

Caretaker let them sit for a few minutes, then came back.

"It may have healed a little, but not as well as yesterday", Caretaker documented the findings.

"If I behave.... can... will.... may I have some blood... please?", Whumpee whispered.

"We'll see", Caretaker looked up at them.

Whumpee held their head lower again.

After lunch, Caretaker came back into the lab and frowned at the vampire.

"Vampires can go a while without feeding.... why are you so desperate", Caretaker questioned.

"The truth is my friends moved far away from here a year or so ago. They said they would come back to the old place to feed me every once in a while. They've never returned, and I haven't fed in a long time. I was going to check again when I was kidnapped", Whumpee admitted, "I've checked nightly in hopes they would be there to help me like I've helped them in the past."

"You seriously haven't fed in that long?", Caretaker actually made a concerned face.

"No", Whumpee whispered, "I haven't."

"Hmm, I didn't know you bloodsuckers could have so much control over yourselves", Caretaker checked a few shelves, "if I must, I must... can't let you die on my watch."

Caretaker drew some of their own blood and, with shaky hands, lifted it to Whumpee's lips.

Whumpee took a few gulps before making a strange face.

"What?", Caretaker frowned.

"Visit your doctor and ask to be checked for ataxia-pancytopenia. I've tasted blood like this before, you're short red blood cells. It's a neurological condition that affects tissue and other parts of the cerebellum. This would explain your wheelchair and movement issue. It's rare, but I've had blood like this before", Whumpee frowned.

Caretaker did some research and was interested to find they did indeed show most of the symptoms.

Whumpee was allowed to sit in a cell for the time being. Caretaker didn't feel safe yet to let Whumpee roam free, but Whumpee had earned enough trust to not be tied down.

Whumpee sat back into the shadows of the cell. All they could think about was if they were wrong. Wrong for telling their captor about an illness. Or gave a wrong diagnosis. Their captor would be mad if they were wrong.

Footprints came from down the hall.

Whumpee cowarded back as deep as the wall allowed.

"No, not you again", Whumpee whispered as Grayson stopped at their cell's entrance, "I'm being good... I promise."

"Are you really?", Grayson smirked evilly.

Whumpee quickly nodded.

"Well that's a shock", Grayson chuckled, "relax, I'm not here to hurt you. Caretaker asked if I'd do them a favor for your health's sake. Their blood isn't able to sustain you, so once a month, I will donate some blood to feed you. It's starting right now with this serving. Caretaker asked me to bring it to you as they had to go to their doctors appointment for results."

Whumpee watched nervously as Grayson brought a full cup of red fluid from behind their back. The air they sniffed was full of fresh blood.

"Th-thats for me?", Whumpee asked timidly.

"Well I'm certainly not going to drink it. You're the only blood sucker here", Grayson sarcastically asked, "do you want it or not?"

Whumpee nodded nervously.

"Then come get it", Grayson slid the cup through the bars, "I'm not opening your cell."

Whumpee got up on their knees and quickly inched to the offered cup.

They took it with shaky hands and started to gulp it down.

"Th-thankyou", Whumpee took a second, "I appreciate you being willing to feed me."

"Well you may be saving my friend.... they've been dealing with this for a few months. I'm thankful you may have given them a new lead to investigate. Hopefully they will get help now", Grayson leaned against the cell bars, "even if they won't be able to hunt again. They will be able to study you and help the rest of us. Though I'm sure you don't like the idea of us hunting your kind."

"Vampires don't really think like that. Some of us have family units to take care of each other. Many don't... less vampires mean less competition. If you're weak you should avoid hunters and the higher powered fiends. They will typical protect you, but send you out as bate. If you're more powered you should get some dumb young vamps to have under your wing. Teach them, but use them as bate", Whumpee frowned at the empty cup, "over all your safer with less vampire's around you. You hunters actually help is emmensly."

"Huh..  never really thought about that", Grayson admitted, "I guess you all would have more competition if we weren't regularly hunting. The smarter, stronger ones know how to avoid us. The weaker maybe newer ones don't have that knowledge yet... they fall into a desperate attempt to learn with an older one, and that could be their undoing. Now I'm curious.... where do you fall in line with that?"

"Desperate loner... with friends who didn't hold up their part of the deal after I helped them", Whumpee stood this time and carried the cup back to Grayson, "I am on the stronger side in the vampire world. I've been one for a while, and only survived on the kindness of others who have fed me. You don't have to be the monster others think and say you are."

"Hmm", Grayson took the cup.

"I am willing to help you both as long as I am respected and taken care of", Whumpee looked into Grayson's eyes, "I'll allow whatever humane test you want to run on me even. I've been alive long enough to not care anymore."

Grayson chuckled, "I'll talk to Caretaker and get back to you."

Whumpee tucked themself back into the corner of their cell, and actually found themself comfortable enough to fall alseep again.

"Wake up."

Whumpee woke up to someone opening their cell again.

"Rest in peace doesn't mean anything to the both of you does it", Whumpee frowned at Grayson.

"You can rest when you're dead", Grayson waved handcuffs.

"I am dead", Whumpee frowned, "you don't need those, I won't fight you."

"Settles my mind when I see vampires in chains", Grayson smirked.

"Sounds like you're a sadist then", Whumpee smirked back, but lifted their arms to allow the handcuffs to be placed, "whatever makes the big bad hunter relieved."

"You said you'd work with us, didn't you?", Grayson frowned, "I just hear complaining."

"I did say I'd work with you... I didn't say anything about not being sarcastic about it", Whumpee turned to allow Grayson to cuff them behind their back, "it's part of my charm."

Whumpee was led to the lab where Caretaker waited.

"My results are in, and you were right. My doctor hadn't even considered that disorder and was surprised by the results. I am being put on a care regime to help with symptoms. It's taken months to get answers, and with a drink of my blood, you knew exactly what it was."

"Vampires are good at finding health problems. I know one vampire who teamed up with a doctor. They would always take an extra vile of blood so the vampire could taste it. Many patients were diagnosed within a month or less", Whumpee smiled, "that doctor was very popular in their life, and very smart to use a vampire in such. The vampire was happy as well. They had a constant supply of blood to feed on. Another example of a good vampire."

"Speaking of which... Grayson told me a little of what you talked about earlier. Since this is my lab, I make the final decision. We can talk later on what request you might have to make yourself more comfortable here. I think it sounds like a fair deal. That is if you are okay with it still. Like I said, we can talk later and go over what would work."

Whumpee nodded, "that sounds like a deal."

Later Caretaker walked past the lab and saw Whumpee looking at some of their tools.

Whumpee turned and saw them watching.

"Tools have changed so much since the old days", Whumpee grinned, then turned back to look more.

"Yes I suppose so", Caretaker nodded as they came closer, "some are just as barbaric as they were in old medicine though.

Whumpee nodded.

"No worries though... as agreed upon, by your request and our contract. These tools will be used for studying. No harm will come to you outside of what you are comfortable with", Caretaker smiled, "come on, I have your room ready. I managed to make it dark enough for you."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou."

"Let's get started then", Caretaker grinned.

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers

@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas

@lumpofsand @watermeezer

@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains

@3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe

@whumprince @kaz-of-crows

@mis-graves @decaffeinatedtimetraveler94

@sausages-things @clevah-girlboss

@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud

@valravnthefrenchie

[turbulentscrawl]

could you write a headcanons for andrew and naib if they’re S/O went missing for a few days

And so the Bun sayeth, Let There Be Angst! I decided to leave it a bit open-ended, so you all can decide how or why you vanished 😉

Naib

-He knows something serious happened to you. It must have. He knows all the hiding places in this manor, all the stupid little hidden doors and rooms that Orpheus and Alice think no one else his privy to, and he’s scoured every corner of this place for any trace of you.

-And he trusts you to not willingly disappear without warning him—you know how he worries, how paranoid he his. And this is why.

-Naib even tries to interrogate the hunters when given half a chance. He could be tied to a rocket chair and he’d still be screaming questions at Ann as she lumbers away from him with a pitying frown and no answers at her tongue.

-He gets as much sleep as answers while you’re gone. That is to say: none. He’s restless without you, wondering what in the world could have happened. And a tired Naib is a cranky, paranoid Niab.

-When you finally come back, he’s nearly to the point of pointing accusing fingers at everyone else. But then you’re just there. Safe and sound in your room, and he’s all over you. He clings to you, desperate for any answers you can provide. You can’t leave your bed for another day, let alone your room, because he’s not in his right mind until you’ve made him sleep—something he’s only willing to do if you’re there. And still, he wakes every hour with a terrified jolt to make sure you’re still with him.

Andrew

-His anger is still there, burning, simmering, but anxiety has wormed its way into the mix. It’s odd. He’s used to worrying about himself, his own hurts and injustices…but you’re the one who’s missing and he doesn’t know what that means. This is one of the few times he’ll swallow his pride and outright ask for help. Luca, Victor, Aesop, Norton, anyone he has a modicum of trust in.

-No one knows what to do. But everyone does know Andrew must be terrified to reach out like that, so they try to help. Andrew just about resorts to digging up the whole manor gardens, paranoid you’ve been buried alive as a punishment for his own sins.

-A whole group of survivors search high and low for you and turn nothing up. The academic sorts have their own theories about what happened to you, but those are all bleak and no one has the heart to share them with Andrew yet.

-When you return, Andrew is stunned…and then a wreck. He’s a strong man, and the hug he gives is crushing—like he’s trying to fuse your body to his permanently. He does not shed tears easily, but Andrew falls to tearful pieces with you back in his arms, choking, hiccupping out desperate pleas for you to tell him what happened, where you went, were you okay?

-Like Naib, he steals you away. You spend a long while in the darkness of his bedroom, letting Andrew cry out all the stress he’d built up in your absence. Unlike Niab, he won’t fight to keep you in that room, but he will be your unwavering shadow for some time to come.

[lu-sn]

Arm has a top-secret file that he keeps on a separate partition of his hard drive, locked behind three different password walls. It’s a list of all of the main family’s bodyguards, ranked by how likely they are to be the mole.

(It’s top-secret because he’s not supposed to be looking into this. Chan explicitly ordered him not to.)

There’s a handful of people Arm doesn’t even bother putting on the list. Pol, for one. Pete. Erika. Chan.

By contrast, every single one of Kinn’s personal bodyguards, past and present, is a prime suspect. Kinn’s had a notorious streak of bad luck lately. Four murder attempts in four months cannot be a coincidence.

Ken is just aloof enough that nobody seems to know what he’s up to on his off-days. This rockets him straight to the top of Arm’s list, tied with Big, who has fallen so far out of favor with Kinn that Arm can’t help but wonder if Kinn is doing it on purpose.

And then there’s the name directly under those two.

“Be honest,” he says to Pete one day. They’re sequestered in his armory, but he keeps his voice low: there’s no harm in being careful with matters like this. “Do you think there’s any chance Porsche is the mole?”

Pete is silent for a good, long moment.

“You live with him,” Arm says. “You’ve been on more missions with him than me. If anyone here knows him best, it’s you.”

“There are reasons to suspect him,” Pete says slowly. “A lot of his missions have gone wrong. He didn’t stop that girl from attacking Kinn in the bathroom. The casino stakeout was a mess. The diamond auction was worse.”

“But…?”

Pete sighs. “I don’t know. He’s young. He’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s improving.”

Arm stares forlornly at his list, cursor blinking innocently next to Porsche’s name. “Pete, I can’t clear his name just because he’s young.”

“No,” Pete concedes. He leans back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. “But he’s kind, too. He’s principled. He won’t betray people he cares about.”

“And that’s enough? You trust him?”

“I do.”

The knot in Arm’s chest jerks tighter. “But… he’s so likable.”

“Ohhh, right, he’s nice. Never mind. Death by firing squad.”

Arm smiles, sheepish.

“Okay,” Pete says. “So you think he’s tricking us?”

“Shit, Pete, I don’t know,” Arm splutters. “Isn't it possible?”

“I don't think so. Porsche isn't like that.”

Arm considers this, then plops his face into his hand.

“Did you want me to say something else?” Pete says, faintly amused.

“Yes,” Arm groans.

“Why?”

“Because…” Arm trails off.

Because the security of the main family rests on his shoulders. Arm cannot afford to be anything other than objective; he needs to leave Porsche on his list.

But the problem is that Porsche barreled into their lives and immediately made Khun Noo happier than Arm had ever seen before. The problem is that Pol hasn’t been this comfortable around someone since Arm himself. The problem is that Arm vaguely remembers being carried home from Hum Bar by an equally drunk Porsche, who took off his shoes for him and tucked him into bed and grinned brightly over his shoulder before staggering out the door.

The problem is that Arm is biased.

Pete, on the other hand, is the most level-headed person Arm knows. Leaving Porsche’s name on his list wouldn’t feel so terrible if Pete agreed with it.

“I wanted you to give me a reason to keep him on here,” Arm mumbles. “I feel bad. He’s our friend.”

“You’re doing your job,” Pete says sincerely. “There’s no shame in that. But…” He reaches over to pat Arm on the shoulder. “There’s nothing wrong with trusting your gut. If you think he’s innocent, leave him off.”

Arm mulls over this. Then he pokes Pete in the side. “I think I trust your gut more than mine.”

Pete lets out a laugh, incredulous, and pokes Arm back.

-

Later, Arm highlights Porsche’s entry with his cursor and drags it to the bottom of the file. Then he pauses. His hand hovers over the delete button.

He thinks about Pete saying, I trust him. He thinks about what Pete didn’t quite say: you should trust yourself, too.

He hits delete.

-

#kpanniversary2024 episode 9 + prompt 9: trust

[tomochisblog]

I .. just made a funny game let's play with luca balsa NYAHAHAHA i felt so evil today and decided to tie him up

>>>>> reblog to set this baby free <<<<<

If there's enough interactions ( also if you guys follow my Instagram art acc cause I'm desperate bc of the algorithm ) I might consider a"take your clothes off" challenge next

Tbh I wanted to tie him up so he looks smexy but after hours of drawing I realised... prisoner tied to a chair is nothing new I literally see him in a rocket chair everyday .. it's too late tho maybe next time , send me references y'all

[thewertsearch]

GG: you said you are asking me permission first and i appreciate that GG: but if you are asking im afraid my answer is no! AT: oKAY, i RESPECT THAT, AT: bUT, i WONDER, GG: what? AT: i WONDER IF A TRULY SELF CONFIDENT GUY, wITH THE BEST SELF ESTEEM THERE IS, wOULD EVEN NEED TO ASK, AT: mAYBE THE BEST GUY WOULD JUST KNOW HE WOULD BE SUCCESSFUL, aND WOULD DO IT ANYWAY BECAUSE IT IS FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, aND EVERYONE ELSE'S,

I don't think Tavros is just emulating Vriska here. This is a very Alternian mindset, and it's one we've seen before.

Alternia is, after all, an empire. It's a society whose idea of success is inexorably tied to violence and domination - so if you're trying to be a better troll, you'll probably gravitate to both, even if you don't realize it.

It's not really about your personality, either. Karkat is, by all accounts, one of the more moral trolls in the party - but as we've seen above, even he's got those imperial instincts. This sort of thing is insidious, and once it worms its way into your brain, it can be hard to shake.

Tavros is a very straightforward example. He's finally gained some 'confidence' - and what's his first impulse?

To seize a useful resource from an alien, and use it against her will.

GG: that would be smug and arrogant and would make you a bully!!! [...] AT: yOU'RE RIGHT ABOUT ALL THAT, i'LL RESPECT YOUR WISHES, AT: oR, AT: wILL i? };) GG: nooooooooo dont dont dont dont dont GG: im serious GG: uuuuggghh i think my headache is coming back AT: i WAS jUST, AT: mAKING A JOKE, AT: sORRY, }:(

This dude cannot read a room. Truly, the anti-Terezi.

Oh, leave off.

AG: Next time you decide to open your heart to an alien girl…….. AG: Make sure her chat client isn't 8eing holographically projected for all to see, ok?

This exploit should apply to chat clients of any size, provided the screen is visible. Maybe John's Pesterchum Glasses were a better investment than I thought.

AG: Jade let you down too easy. She's too nice! Someone's got to tear into you for that appalling display, and once again, guess who's shoulders that falls on? AG: That's right. Vriska's, as usual.

Tavros probably does need someone to explain what he did wrong, but it should be anyone but Vriska. This is obviously just going to be more bullying, and no actual advice.

AT: i THINK SHE HAS THE RIGHT AMOUNT OF NICENESS, pERSONALLY, AT: aN AMOUNT THAT IS SOME, iNSTEAD OF, AT: nONE,

Showing backbone against Vriska, eh? Finally, a constructive use for all that confidence.

Progress is progress, even when it's just a minor clapback.

AG: Hey, I'm nice when it matters, [...]

Nope, I'm calling Vriska's bluff. What nice things has she done so far, exactly?

Sure, she made Tavros the rocket chair, but only after mercilessly tormenting him for his physical condition, which she caused.

Plus, this wasn't even a real apology gift. She kept bullying him after that, and is literally doing so as we speak.

I guess she also made Aradia's soulbot, as an 'apology' for murdering her with her own boyfriend. To be precise, she had Equius make it, with horrific results that she should probably have seen coming.

She also thought that it would be 'nice' to tell Terezi that her blindness 'wasn't that bad'. This conversation was kind of complicated, though, and I'm not sure what her actual intention was.

Anyway, it's pretty clear that Vriska doesn't really grok what 'nice' means. She gives Tavros a rocket chair, continues to torment him, and doesn't understand the contradiction, because she doesn't think his feelings actually matter.

[...] and where it doesn't strangul8te the critical development of people I give a shit a8out, ok?

"After all, no one was ever nice to ME, and look how gr8 I turned out! When you think about it, it's actually a GOOD thing that no one ever showed me kindness! It made me strong! Don't you want to 8e stroooooooong, Pupa? ::::D"

I'm reminded of this exchange from Hivebent. Kanaya recommends that Vriska practice some basic self-care, and Vriska completely flies off the handle, furious at the mere suggestion that she should be kind to herself.

Vriska thinks kindness will harm her. She refuses to accept it, and avoids showing it to anyone, which makes her remarkably consistent in her cruelty. I'm willing to bet that there's nothing she's said to Tavros that she hasn't already said to herself.

[watsittoyah]

Along Came A Spider…2099

Warnings-Sexual content, and adult content. Some mentions of multiple dimensions. Oral sex, rough sex, fang play, claws kink, size kink, and cock-warming, red rope bondage (shibari?), submissive Miguel…

(My Spanish isn’t great, so I did use spanishdict to translate to help…)

Chapter 11- Perfection Can’t Be Obtained…

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask as you tie the red rope around Miguel’s broad shoulders. “Sí, amor. I do. I had to deal with Carnage in my last mission and they had me…tied up in a way that slowed me down. If I had better training. Then I would’ve gotten out of the ropes faster.”

You were curious about something though.

“Baby, why don’t you just web yourself instead of using this rope?” You ask, bringing the rope around one of his thighs. “Because, amor. I can easily break out of my webbing. It’s like shredding candy floss to me. But this rope, is a bit of a challenge.”

“Oh, well anything to see you tied up, I’m all for it.” You tie more rope around his other thigh and when you’re done you give a nice hard tug. “A…amor I didn’t know you could tie knots so tight.” You dust off your hands. “It’s not rocket science, Miguel. I know how to tie knots. Now, the rules you said is that under no circumstances am I to help you get out of these ropes. No matter how much you beg, no matter how much you plead-you know this is making my kink list just bigger right?” You say as you wrap your arms around Miguel’s roped waist.

“I bet you’re thinking up the most right now. Ah, amor can you?” You go to loosen a rope but he jerks away. “That was a test and you failed.” You narrow your eyes at him as he smiles as if he’s won a prize.

“Hmm, I’ll do better next time. Like right now. I have therapy. You have fun.” You go to leave and Miguel gets a slight panic in his eyes. “Wait, amor? Tommie! Wait what if I need to you know?”

“If you can find the trick rope you’ll be able to get out easy as cake. Now don’t hurt yourself while I’m gone. My session is two hours long. I might cry so make it two hours and a half. Love you, baby!” You call out as you leave him tied to a chair in his apartment.

••••

As you sit in the waiting room you smooth out your shirt and move one of your curls out of the way.

Maybe I’ll ask Erica to do faux locks next time. You think to yourself.

You look up at the clock and wonder if Miguel got out of your ropes when you hear the door open. “Tommie Valentine?” A woman announced. “Present, I mean here. I’m here.” You get up and follow the woman down the hall.

“Here you go.” She ushers you into a room and there you meet your therapist, Dr Elizabeth Osborn. “Hello, Miss Valentine. Please have a seat.” She gives you a warm smile and you sit on her comfortable lounge chair.

“This is nice. I like this.” You mutter to yourself as she takes out a note pad. “Well, Miss Valentine, I understand that you have had a therapist before me and I was able to get your paperwork with your permission of course. I have caught up on your paperwork and now I want to dive in, if that is okay with you.”

You give a nod and she writes something down. “Alright and just so you know, anything discussed here will be confidential between doctor and patient. Unless you talk about bringing harm to oneself or others.” You give another nod and look around the office. “If there is any subjects you’d like to discuss, please do not hesitate to bring it up. Now it is my understanding that you’ve had a reoccurring dream?”

“Yes, as I’m sure you’ve read in my email, I was one of the victims in the attack on downtown Nueva York from the green goblin…I’m afraid that incident has left some lasting effects on me.” She nods and writes that down. “Please continue Mis-”

“You can call me Tommie. But, um, the drea-nightmare it always starts the same. I’m sleeping over at my boyfriends apartment and when I get up to go use the bathroom I feel that something is watching me. I get up, look around and nothing is there until I turn and there I see the Green Goblin and they shove a pumpkin down my throat. I always wake up at that point and feel terrified because I genuinely feel as if someone is watching me.”

She was quiet for a moment writing down in her note pad, when she looks up she gives a soft smile. “From what your dream describes it’s obvious that you suffered severe trauma. You almost died and it’s something your brain is trying to bury, however a small part in your brain doesn’t want you to forget. So it is giving you these dreams as a form of making you alert at all times. It’s something similar to when domestic violence victims as well as soldiers have moments such as your own. In other words, Tommie you have PTSD.”

You frown at her diagnosis. “I guess you’re right on that, but I don’t feel as if I do. I don’t get anxious or feel uncomfortable when I’m outside.”

“Tommie, look at your hands.” You look down and you were clutching the cushion so fiercely you thought you might tear it into pieces. You let go and place your shaky hands in your lap.

“Dr Osborn, I’m not broken.”

“No one said you were, Tommie. I just sai-”

“I’m fine. I am perfectly fine. Sure I almost died. Sure when I hear loud noises I jump a little, sure when I’m alone in my bedroom late at night I stare at the ceiling wondering if I’ll see those terrifying glowing green eyes. But I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine.” You lie.

She nods and purses her lips. “Tommie, if I may change the subject. Can you describe to me what it was like when you lost your parents?” Your hands stop shaking in your lap and you give a nod.

“Right, when I lost my parents, I was sad…because I lost the two people in my life that I saw as my heroes. When I was in school I was made fun of because I liked science. But my mother and father? They made it fun, they made it exciting. It was like I lost my superheroes. A-I don’t want to sound ungrateful when I say this. But when I went to live with my grandparents, I felt so…depressed because my grandparents weren’t my parents. I have to give them credit, it wasn’t easy raising a teenager. But I wanted my mom and dad back. They left me. I didn’t get to enjoy those daddy and daughter dances…I didn’t-“ You wipe your eyes and continue on as your therapist gives you a tissue.

“-thank you. I didn’t get to tell my mom about the boy I was crushing on in my study hall. I just wanted my life back. And I know it’s not my fault that they’re gone but I felt like I was the problem. I lashed out and felt like….I needed to be better. I needed to be like how I seen my parents. I needed to be…perfect.”

“Tommie you do know that no person can obtain perfection?”

“I know but, I needed to do something. I needed the perfect grades. I needed to go to the perfect college. I needed to have the perfect career. Because in this world, I am a black woman. My competition are white women and men in general. If I slip, if I let this perfect life I’m striving for drop from my hands then I lose them again. I love my dad and my mom. I can’t let them die again…I need them to live on because in my head I am the little girl that was left on the stoop waiting for them to come home to me.”

You couldn’t breathe. God why couldn’t you breathe.

“I’m so-“

You get up holding your chest and your therapist rushes to your side. “Tommie. Look at me, breathe. Everything is fine, everything is okay.” Your legs buckle a bit and you grab the couch arm and you crouch down letting your chin rest on your knees.

“I’m sorry.” You breathe out as you shut your eyes.

If you were perfect you wouldn’t be here. If you were perfect you’d still have your parents. If you were perfect you-

Stop..

Stop that.

A small voice calls out to you and your ear drums sounded like they were in rushing water.

You aren’t perfect, you aren’t going to ever be perfect, and that is okay. You found another way to fail and that is okay. Now get up, and breathe.

Something flickers in your mind.

A…vision?

You see Miguel on his knees in front of you. He was crying and you were holding him. You were telling him that he wasn’t going to be the perfect Spider-Man. He was going to be the best one he could be. You told him that perfection can’t be obtained like in the movies. He was going to make mistakes, he wasn’t going to be able to save everyone. He was going to come home with someone else’s blood on his hands. But as long as he did his best you would be proud of him. Just like your parents were proud of you..

The vision fades and it caused your panic attack to fade as well because that…that talk never happened. At least not to your knowledge.

You open your eyes and your therapist was there helping you up off the floor. She sits you down and hands you a few more tissues. Once you’re sure that you won’t have another panic attack you look at her with a frown.

“Doctor Osborne. I know this session is all over the place but can I ask you something?” She nods. “Yes, of course.”

“I…is there a such thing as multiple dimensions? Like say I made the decision to eat an apple for breakfast but in another dimension I chose to eat a burger. Would you think that’s possible?”

“I’m not sure about that, but there has been cases where people have said that they’ve felt that they were in a loop of their own life but had a different outcome.”

“I know this sounds, crazy-”

“We don’t say that word here, Tommie. And I would never think of you as such.”

“Right. Well, there’s been moment when I’m with my boyfriend that I’ve felt like I’ve lived another life with him. Like he knows my quirks and I know his. For example when I was a little girl, I would get ice and crack the ice try just to eat the top layer on it. Well my boyfriend when we started dating he cracked the ice and gave me the top piece. Which was strange because I never did that in front of him. When I look at him sometimes I feel like…we’re married. And it’s not just this feeling it’s like something inside of my head is missing and my boyfriend is the key to that.”

“From what I can tell you is the brain is a fascinating thing. It will do anything to protect its self even block certain memories. I can help you through guided meditation to help you unlock them if that is what you would like.”

“Yes, I…I just want to know what am I missing?” The therapist tells you to lay back and she grabs something from her desk. You glance and see she has what looks like a chime.

“Tommie I want you to close your eyes and relax. Listen to the sound of my voice and the chime. You’ll feel yourself going to sleep, don’t fight it. If you do seem to have any trouble I will snap my fingers and you’ll awake. Are you ready?” She asks as you look at the ceiling. “I’m ready.”

She sounds the chime and she tells you a few key words.

“Clouds…girl…pumpkin…sun…”

As you hear her voice and you hear the chime you feel your body just relax and you slowly, but surely fall asleep.

••••

You open your eyes and you’re laying in a California king bed. You stretch out and feel something thick laying beside you. When you look over you see your husband fast asleep.

You look over at the clock on the dresser and it was after eight. Miguel has to be up before nine so you lean over and you kiss his lips. He stirred in his sleep and his arms wrap around you.

“Time to wake up, baby. You have work remember?” You tell him as you cup his sleepy stubbled face. “Cinco minutos más, mi corazón.” He tells you in a sleepy deep voice. “No, five more minutes. It is time for my husband to get up and start his day. Come, I’ll make you breakfast.” You go to get up but Miguel pulls you back down and rolls on top of you.

“How did I get to have such a caring and beautiful wife?” He kisses you all over your face, causing you to laugh and you stop him. “You’re just lucky I guess. Now don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing. Come on, let’s go Mr O’Hara.”

You hear small foot steps and the both of you peek over and you see him. “Mommy! Daddy! Can I watch tv?” Your son, Xavier had ran into the room and Miguel had scooped him up, tickling him causing him to laugh.

“You can if you say it in Spanish.” Miguel says teasing him a bit. “Mommy, how do you say it?” Xavier asks you and you stroke his pretty curly hair. “You would say, Papá, puedo ver la televisión?” Xavier stutters a bit but he says it. “You can go watch it. Just don’t be too loud.” Miguel kisses him on the head and places him down on the floor. He run out of the room and you tell him to not to run or he would hurt himself.

As Miguel gets up you grab your robe and put it on. “Do you think he’ll have them? Your powers?” You ask Miguel as you hand his towel. “I’m not sure amor. It’s been four years and Xavier hasn’t shown any signs. I hope he isn’t like me. I hope he’s like you.” Miguel kisses your temple as he heads into the bathroom.

You go to the kitchen and you see Xavier sitting on the couch with his Spider-Man plushie. “Mommy, can I have Spider-man cereal?” He asks as he looks over at you from the couch. “You can but that means you can’t have Spider-man French toast sticks.” His little hazel eyes light up as you cut up some strawberries and bananas.

“Really! You make th..the best breakfast mommy!” He gets up and as he goes to hug you, you feel a shiver down your spine. You look away from him for a second because the atmosphere felt off.

“Oof!” Xavier collides into you and you accidentally nicked yourself with the knife. “Ouch!” You yelp causing Xavier to look at you in fear. “Mommy? You’re bleeding! I’m sorry! Can I kiss it?” You shake your head. “No, baby. Mommy has to go clean it. But I’ll be fine after and then I can make breakfast. Now go sit down on the couch.” Xavier hesitates but he goes and sits down after you give him a kiss on his head letting him know you’re okay.

You go to the guest bathroom and you clean your finger. As the water turns crimson, you look in the mirror and your face looks different.

You look harder and your reflection glitches, like a computer screen. It glitches again and you see yourself but in black in white. It glitches again and you see yourself as a cartoon.

The glitch happens again, and again and again-

••••

You wake up and your head felt funny. Doctor Osborne was sitting there writing in her note pad. “Alright Tommie. What did you see?” You go to answer but stop.

“I…don’t remember. Is that normal?” You ask her as to sit up. “No, patients always remember. You called out two names. Miguel and Xavier. Who are those people to you?”

“Well Miguel is my boyfriend, and Xavier? I don’t know an Xavier.” Your therapist writes more down and you feel in the back of your mind that you’re forgetting something.

Maybe it wasn’t too important…maybe?

••••

Therapy was a success for you. You had went to a sub shop to get some sandwiches and as you call Miguel his phone kept going to voicemail. “What is going on with-” You then remember how you left Miguel in his apartment.

Surely he got out of those ropes right?

You get your sandwiches after paying and you get to your car, calling Miguel once again. Still no answer.

“Oh shit, I know he’s going to be pissed.” You mutter getting into your car and driving off to the apartment building.

Once you’re inside you take the key Miguel gave you and you unlock his door. You listen for a moment as you step in and place the food in the fridge.

“Miguel?” You call out to him and you hear a loud crash in his bedroom. You run in there excepting the worse and only to see him in the chair struggling to get the rope off.

As soon as he sees you he stops. “Help me, please.” He begs. You stifle a giggle and Miguel glare. “Amor. Esto no es gracioso. Necesito ayuda.” You cross your arms over your chest and stride into his bedroom.

“Baby, I thought you said under no circumstances am I to help you. No matter how much you beg.” You say as you stand in front of him. “I know what I said but that was before I knew you could tie these ropes extremely tight.”

“Wait, why didn’t you use your claws?” You ask him as you give him a puzzling look. “You don’t think I tried, amor? My hands can’t reach. Now please help me.” You nod and you go to pull the trick knot but you stop.

“On second thought, no.” You smile at him devilishly and Miguel jerks his body but fails at breaking the ropes. “Amor, please. I just want-” You grab a hold of his lips and you lean in.

“But baby, I like you like this. You look so vulnerable and pretty. I just…want to take advantage of you.” You lick his bottom lip causing him to whimper.

“Mi corazón, you don’t want to do that.” You nod as you suck his bottom lip. “Oh yes I do. Now be my good boy, please.” You kiss him and you circle the chair a little.

“I did great job, not even Spider-Man can escape. I wonder if I do this…” You reach under his shirt and you bring your hands to his chest. “Oh, now I see why you love playing with mine.” You pinch his nipples and he jerks causing you to feel excited.

“You liked that, didn’t you?” You ask against his ear. “No, I…I don’t like you pinching there.” You pout and tug at his ear with your teeth. “Don’t lie to me. I know you do. I can see your dick getting hard. Wait…is this a secret fantasy of yours?”

“No-” You yank him by the hair and pull his head back. “Miguel, don’t lie to me, you know I won’t kink shame you. But I’m a merciful woman. So how about we…role play? I’ll set the scene…” You let his hair go and circle back around. You sit on his lap and you smile innocently.

“You found my hide out, and just when you think you’re going to bust me. I get the jump on you and tie you up in a chair. Because you have infiltrated my area, that gives me right to do whatever I please.” Your smile leaves your face and Miguel studies you.

“I’ll get out of these ropes and when I do, you’re going to jail.” You’re pleased he’s playing along. “The thing is Spider-Man, I don’t plan on going to jail. I plan on having some fun with you and making you beg, like a good boy.” You stand up and you tug on the rope causing him to wince.

“Oh, I’m sorry did that hurt? Here let me help you feel better.” You straddle him and you feel his hard dick between your legs. You lift his chin and you lean in for a kiss but he jerks his face away. “Don’t touch me.”

“Spidey, you’re going to beg for me to touch you…” Your move off of him and you get on your knees in front of him. Miguel watches you and you unzip his pants. “Would you look at that, a big present for me.”

You pull out his dick and as you look up at him you lick the tip like a lollipop. You see his eyes flutter shut as you roll your tongue around the head and you stroke him. “Still don’t want me to touch you, Spidey?” You tease as you watch him struggling to get loose.

“Ju…just don’t stop.” He moans. “Thought you’d see it my way, but why should I keep going? You said I was going to jail.” You rub the tip only and Miguel’s eyes were red.

“Because, I’m the good guy.” You tsk. “No, you’re my good boy. Now say that and I’ll keep going.” You instructed to him. “I’m your good boy.” He obeys and you let your drool cover the tip, smiling as you do.

“That’s right you’re my good boy.” You slowly take him down your throat and he lets out a low moan. “F…fuck. Amor, princesa, baby please untie me. I want your throat. I want to fuck it. Please.”

“Ah, no. I don’t think so now play along, be my good boy.” Miguel actually growls at you, which was a first.

“I don’t want to role play anymore, Tommie. Let me out of these ropes. Let me have that throat, I want you. Please.” You deep throat him quickly causing him to tense his body up and then you release him from your mouth.

“You might not want to play, but I do. You see, you get to fuck me like a rag doll. You get to tie me up in your web and you get to have my body any kind of way. Which I do enjoy, baby. I really do. But I think it’s my turn.” You stand up and you strip off your shirt, your pants and lastly your panties along with your bra.

You were naked in front of him and if he could break the chair and have you he would. “Next time, I want you tied up in your suit. I’ve always get to have fun with Miguel but I’ve never got to have Spider-Man.”

“Tommie when I get out-” You put your panties in his mouth and you get behind him. “I really love seeing you tied up, but I want to take my stressful day out on you. Now I’ll stop talking and you start begging.” You pull the panties from his mouth and you kiss him, letting him taste himself on your tongue.

He moan as you reach over and play with the tip. You don’t have to say it, you’re already moving back in front of him. You move your lips from his and you have your back facing him.

You look back at him as your bend over slightly and you grab his dick. “Amor, just untie some of the rope, I’ll stay still I just-ay dios mío…” He moans out as you tease the tip in.

You spread your lips using the head of his dick and he lets his head fall back as your pussy swallows him slowly. “I just want to move my hips. Can I just-mami, please sólo fóllame, por favor.” You get him deep inside and you place your hands on your knees as you look back at him and move your hips.

Your eyes roll back, as you fuck him. You lean your body against him and hold his face close to yours. “Watch me, play with myself while you’re inside of me, baby.” You rub your pussy lips together and feel him wanting to thrust, but his hips are tied down. “You want to fuck me, right?”

“Yes, amor. I want you. Just let me move. Please your little pussy is too good to me.” You rub faster as you rock your hips and you moan. “Miguel, you’re so good to me. You’re my good boy right?” Your swirl your hips in circles and you see Miguel’s eyes roll back double time. “Sí mami, soy tu buen chico.” Hearing him like this only made you more wet. You keep rubbing and you move so only just the tip was inside of you.

“Do you want to be my good boy? Or my fuck toy Miguel?” You ask as you move faster on the tip. Miguel was stuttering and whimpering now, barely able to answer you.

“A…answer me baby.” You slow down and he jerk trying to break free. “Yes! I’ll be whatever you want. Your good boy, your fuck toy. I’ll be a chair if you’ll untie me and let me pound into the sweet little pussy.” He moans out.

You slide him out of you and you turn, now facing him. You slide him back and you rock your hips harder making the chair creak. “Just like that, fuck me, mami. Fuck me like that. I’m your good boy. I’m yo-I’m gonna come. I’m gonna fucking come.” You pull at his ropes and you soon feel Miguel coming deep inside of you.

He was breathing heavy as he grunts out his orgasm and you lean against his shoulder. “You are such a good boy for me…but now I need to treat you like my fuck toy.”

You slowly move your hips and Miguel’s dick throbs between your puffy pussy lips. “Wait, it’s sensitive, amor. I don’t think I can d…o tha- fuck.” He moan as your pussy grips him tight. You clench your walls and grip him close.

“This is mine, this dick is mine. No one else can have this but me.” You moan against his ear as you fuck him harder. You bite Miguel lips and he lets out an airy whine. “Oh god, you’re gonna make me come fast again. Amor don’t stop, plea-por favor, mami.” You get a smirk on your face and you still.

“No, don’t do that. Fuck me, fuck me right now, amor. I need that pussy to milk me. Please, I’ll do anything.” You grab his face after hearing that. “Anything?” He nods and you smile like a she devil. “Oh I’ll save for what we can do another time. But does my fuck toy want to come inside of me?”

“Yes, mami. Let me come inside of yo-“ You start rocking your hips again and he moan out yes as well as other swear words in Spanish.

This time you feel a nice build up and you squeeze your walls around him as you feel yourself coming. Miguel feels it and lets out a moan that I’m sure everyone on the floor had heard. You moan into a smile and you look at a very spent Miguel. “Ple-please untie me, amor. Please.” You slide off of him and get on your knees.

“No.” You flick and vibrate your tongue under the head of his dick and he squirms on your mouth. “No…no more. I can’t come anymore. Please j-fuck fuck fuck!” Miguel squirts against you tongue and you smile slurping it up. “Now I can. You’re going to be pissed at yourself when you see how easy it was to get out of this rope.” You kiss his lips and in the center of his chest your pull the trick rope, loosening all of his ropes. He sags against his chair and gives a weak chuckle.

“H…how was I suppose to reach that, amor?” He asks as he flicks the ropes off of him. “Go to the door, kneel by the door handle and loop it through then pull. My knots weren’t rocket science, but I figure even a scientist could figure that out.” You smile as you leave the bed room to go clean up. You expect Miguel to follow but you see he isn’t moving.

“Are you okay?” You ask him. “Y…yes. You….took a lot out of me. I’ll be there in a moment princesa.” You blow a kiss to him and just run a bath for the two of you…

••••

“You said you got to talk about a lot during your therapy session?” Miguel asks while the both of you eat the sandwiches you had brought over. “Yes, it was very eye opening, and healing. I guess I’m not over my parents death still and I have PTSD from the Green Goblin incident. All in all, I have another session next week and I can’t wait.” You say as you get up to get more lemonade.

“Well I am happy that you got a nice break through, amor. Really I am.” Miguel says taking another bite. You pour you and Miguel more lemonade and you pause for a second.

“What’s wrong?” Miguel asks. “There was something else in the session, but I can’t remember what. But I feel like it was important. I guess it’ll come to mind later. Anyways, are you ready to go see your brother tomorrow?” You ask putting the pitcher back in the fridge.

“About that, my brother wants to meet you and in return he wants to introduce me to his girlfriend as well. I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course. I would love to meet your little brother. Oh this is exciting, I want to ask him about how you were growing up.” Miguel groans. “Gabe will definitely tell you about my most embarrassing moments for sure, but I got dirt on him too. Anyways we’re going to meet him and his girlfriend at his place. We would’ve went to the park but…” Miguel looks away from you and you know why.

You walk over to him and kiss his temple. “Thank you for considering my feelings, Miguel. I appreciate it.” He smiles at you and nods.

You couldn’t wait to work on your anxiety so that you could be comfortable outside in open settings. But hey one step at a time.

As you two enjoy your food, you catch when Miguel looks at his watch. “Mm, amor I’ll be right back, Spider-Man has to do his thing.” He presses a button and his suit appears onto him. “Be careful, I’ll keep an ear out for you on tv.” You tell him as he kisses your temple and heads towards his window. “Alway, mi corazón.” He opens his window and leaps out of it.

You smile at your boyfriend you clean up the food, putting away whatever leftovers you two had. You turn around flicking on the tv, letting the background chatter fill the room as you spruce up the apartment a bit.

As you pick up, you notice something poking out from under the couch. You pick it up and you see a Spider-Man plushie.

“Xavier what did I tell you ab-” You stop your words and look around for a second. When you look back at the toy it was gone.

“No, no, no, no, I know what I saw. I-who is Xavier?” More questions that I’m sure your therapist is going to enjoy answering for your next session.

You sit on the couch and rub your temples. “Am I going crazy?” You ask yourself wondering what the hell is going on with you…

••••

Miguel was nervous, and you can tell he’s trying to hide it. You place your hand on the middle of his back and give him a gentle push. “Go on.” You tell him as he smoothed down his hair. “Okay.” He rings his brother’s doorbell and we hear someone say they were coming.

His brother answers the door and he gave his brother a long hard stare. For a second you thought maybe you made a mistake on letting Miguel ring the door bell until Gabriel gets a great big smile on his face. “Bring it in Miggy.”

“Oh shut up, Gabi.” The two brothers pull each other in and hug one another. He invites the two of you in and Miguel introduces you. “Gabriel this is Tommie. Tommie this is my little brother.”

“It’s so nice to finally meet you. Miguel has told me so much about you.” Gabriel raises a brow at his brother. “If it’s good stuff then I have some great stories to tell you. If it’s bad, I can tell you what he did in the tenth grade that almost got him expelled from school and almost banned in Canada.”

“Gabi, te mataré.” Miguel says with a smile. But Gabriel was unfazed. “Anyways, Xina just stepped out to go grab some refreshments. She’s a chef and she got a promotion at work so we had invited a few friends over as well. I hope that is okay with you Tommie. Miguel told me about the incident.”

“It’s fine, I’m working through that. But thank you for your kindness.” You tell him. “Gabi how many people will be here?” Miguel asks as you hand Gabriel the dessert dish you had made. It was your salted Carmel and chocolate chip cookies.

“Only four more people. I triple checked, don’t worry Miggy. It will be a controlled environment, and we will have fun. Now, let me give you guys a tour.”

Gabriel starts off showing you two the living room which you can tell Miguel was in awe. “How’s the tv work? Are the specs good? How’s the screen quality?”

“Hermano, es increíble, se siente como si estuviera en un partido de fútbol los domingos. Here let me show you. Uh, Tommie is it okay?” You give a smile. “It’s okay, you two bond, I can place those cookies in the kitchen if you’d like.” Gabriel hands the cookies back to you and tells you where the kitchen is.

When you enter the kitchen you place the cookies down and you pause. “I feel like I’ve been here before…” You comment. To test the theory you close your eyes and you walk forward. You hand goes down and you touch a drawer.

“Spoons…” You open your eyes as well as the drawer and there were spoons there. “Freaky.” You mutter as you close the drawer back.

You hear footsteps behind you and when you turn you see a cute Asian woman enter the kitchen. “Oh! You must be Tommie. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I see the boys have gravitated towards the tv.”

“I am and you must be Xina, it is a pleasure to meet you as well. And yea it was game over when the boys walked past that tv.” You two laugh and by reflex you two hug each other.

When you two embrace you feel as if you’ve done this before. She lets you go first and clears her throat. “Gabriel told me you brought cookies, what kind?” She asks. “Oh, salted Carmel chocolate chip. I hope no one is allergic, I should’ve checked.” Xina pauses and gives you a strange look.

“That’s funny, I’ve been craving that kind of cookie for like the last couple of days. I have been baking them when I can and they just don’t seem to come out right. May I?”

“Sure go ahead.” Xina washes her hands and then she grabs a cookie from the platter. When she takes a bite her eyes go wide. “It’s exactly the cookies taste I’ve been craving.” You smile as she eats and you look around. “Gabriel mentioned that you were a chef, and you got a promotion. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, it’s been hard work but I’m just happy it paid off…Tommie can I ask you something? And sorry if this freaks you out but…have we met before?” You go to answer her but you two hear more voices and two more women enters the kitchen. They congratulate Xina and the both of you lock eyes for a split second almost saying that you’ll continue the conversation another time…

•••

“No, that’s not how I remember it. Mamá dijo que dijiste eso...” Gabriel says as he explains how Miguel was the one who blew up the back porch when they were kids. “No, you were the one who put all that baby powder on the floor y me hizo caer. That’s how it blew up.” We laugh at the bickering brothers but this felt good.

You watch as Miguel and Gabriel talk and you feel a bit sad, wondering what would life had been like it you had a sibling. “Tommie how is it working for Howard Stark? I hear he’s a tyrant at times.” Camron, Xina’s friend, had asked.

“Oh, he has his moments. But I can handle him.” You tell her. “His company does some good when it comes to medical but it doesn’t sit right with me that he sponsors a lot of weapons for the military.” Dallas expresses to the group.

You feel a bit embarrassed but Xina buts in. “That’s not Tommie’s problem. But I’m sure she would rather do her own thing like, have a tech company or something.” You give her a look and nod. She smiles at you and Gabriel claps.

“Alright, I don’t know about the rest of you guys but I am starving. I’m going to go check on the food on the grill.”

“Yeah, I don’t want you burning the burgers, Gabi.” Miguel says as the rest of the guys joins them. “What? Charcoal is good for the teeth, Miggy. I thought you knew that, since you’re the science.” The brothers joke and you hear Xina clear her throat. “While the boys play with fire and meat, I’m gonna go and grab some more drinks. Tommie can you help me out?”

“Sure, I’ll be right there.” You follow her to the kitchen and she looks back to make sure you two had time to talk. “So, about earlier-” You stop her. “I…thought I was going crazy. I have these moments with Miguel where I feel like we’ve known each other before this.”

“Same! Well I mean with Gabriel. I told him that our whole relationship felt like deja vu. Does…does Miguel knows your like quirks?”

“Yes! Oh my god I tried explaining that to him and it’s like he refuses to acknowledge that.” You close your eyes and you make sure you were holding onto the kitchen counter.

You feel arms hug you and when you open your eyes it was Xina. “I thought I was the only one.” You hug her back and the two of you cry a little. “No, you’re not alone. Um, can I get your number so we can stay in touch?” You ask wiping your eyes. She gives a grin as she mirrors your movements of wiping her eyes.

“I was going to ask you the same thing. God, I feel like I’ve found something I’ve lost. I have so many questions, but obviously we can’t talk as freely.”

“I’m free next week. Well after this dinner party, which I don’t even want to go to but my boss is making me go.”

“Next week let’s go out for lunch. Now, let’s get these drinks out there. Maybe everyone will get drunk enough to barley taste the burnt food.”

You laugh at that. “Wait Gabriel can’t cook?” Xina shakes her head. “T, I’m the chef. Gabriel can barely boil water without scorching it. Can Miguel cook?” You nod. “Yeah, he cooks for me all the time. He said his mom taught him and Gabriel.”

“Thank god Gabriel is pretty and I can cook or else we would starve.” You two joke as you gather the drinks for everyone.

As the night goes on you enjoy this, because Miguel didn’t get a single call to be Spider-Man. He was a big brother telling stories about his childhood. He was a loving boyfriend who stole kisses from you, every chance he got. He was simply Miguel O’Hara.

For the rest of the night you put the mystery of your mind on the back burner and just enjoyed the moment with Miguel and his family….

Previously, Next

[yanderes-galore]

23.) "You're crying... come a little closer, I'll make it all go away." As romantic With Overwatch's Soldier76 and gn reader?

Sure! I didn't realize how... terrifying he actually is until I looked at his cinematics.

Yandere! Soldier 76/Jack Morrison Prompt 23

"You're crying... come a little closer, I'll make it all go away."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Kidnapping (Surprisingly not by Soldier), Isolation, Dark themes, Disturbing descriptions, Dubious turned forced relationship.

Jack always told you he did what he did to protect the innocent. His vigilante behavior was to make the world a better place from the shadows. It's what he's been doing for years since the fall of Overwatch.

Jack wanted to make a safer world because he not only felt it was for justice... but you.

You're his beloved, his partner. Someone he managed to win over even in his old age. He loves you... He wants to protect you.

Surely you know that means he'll do anything to keep you safe, right?

You can't quite suffocate your fear when you see Jack's actions. You hear screaming, the sound of gunfire, and hear blood hit the floor. There isn't much you can do... tied to a chair and forced to see the carnage play out.

You had been kidnapped for ransom. Your kidnappers were gang members who were no doubt connected to Talon. They knew of your connections to Jack... They were most likely in it for the money.

Now they were being shredded through like cannon fodder.

You weren't sure who you're more scared of. The gang members... or your boyfriend who's shredding through them with an animalistic fury. Seeing this... He almost looks feral.

You hear Helix Rockets go off along with the sound of bullets tearing through flesh. You hear some beg for mercy, only to have their throat slit. The metallic smell of blood fills your nose... you feel sick.

You freeze when you see a gang member go to run to your room but is quickly taken down. Jack is quick to take him out... right in front of you. You shake... You've never seen such a side in him.

Yet you freeze when Jack's visor meets you.

You can't help but sob when you see Jack approach you, seeing your boyfriend covered head-to-toe in blood. He stares down at you from his visor. You can see the adrenaline make him shudder.

Why were you crying? Was it due to the whole situation? Was it because you were scared of the gang?

Or were you scared of Jack after seeing what he's done...?

"You're crying... come a little closer, I'll make it all go away." Jack answers in a gruff tone, approaching you as though he didn't create a massacre in front of you. You feel... sick upon seeing the blood on his clothes. You quickly shake your head.

"N-No... No, I'm okay, I-" Jack doesn't listen to your sobbing pleas, quickly embracing you as he fidgets with your ropes. You feel him remove the bottom of his visor, kissing your forehead as he releases you from the binds.

You're struggling to hold down the vomit that bubbles in your throat as you feel the warm blood coat your own skin.

"It's alright... I'm here now, baby..." Jack murmurs, keeping you close against his chest even when you're free. You still sob, your tears mingling with the metallic red substance staining your skin. "We can go home...."

You feel relieved yet sick when he lets you out of his embrace, only to pick you up to carry you in his arms. He acts as though you can't defend yourself without him. You wonder if he even cares that you're now also covered in blood.

"Knew I should've locked you at home..." Jack murmurs, grip tight on you as you continue to sob. "It's not safe out here... you can't live without me."

You hear him sigh, walking you towards his motorcycle. You don't even know if you want to go home. Will you even be able to leave?

"You can't even leave the house without me, baby..." Jack murmurs. "It's alright... no one will hurt you now."

Jack seems to act like what he's done is some big heroic act. He acts like he didn't slaughter people simply because they were desperate enough to take you. Your boyfriend showed no mercy... no empathy...

He simply insists they were hurting you, they were evil...He had to get rid of them because they took you away... That he must lock you away at home to protect you...

You're scared of him... he only holds you tighter...

You have no idea if he's oblivious... or just doesn't care when you tremble in his arms... the thought of going home and being locked away with HIM more terrifying than anything else.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hey congratulations🤩🤩, Steven Grant with 24&9

.⋆｡Dear Professor｡⋆.

Steven Grant x plus size reader

When Steven finally gets a job as a tour guide for the British Museum, you decide you need to celebrate him.

Warnings: established relationship, smut, unprotected sex, chair sex, little bit of role-play, oral (m receiving), praise

WC: 589

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

Knock knock.

Steven looked up from his new work schedule to see you leaning against the pillar, fist resting against the dark wood, in front of his desk. Confused, he pushed his reading back up his large nose and suddenly the breath was knocked from his lungs. 

You were wearing an absolutely tiny pleated skirt that did little more than cover the very top of your plump thighs and a white button-up with one of his ties. Steven swallowed thickly. “Wha-what are you doing love?”

You smirked and pulled at the tie around your neck. “Oh professor, I'm willing to do anything for some extra credit.” You cooed, your voice dropping to a sultry tone that made your partner freeze with arousal. 

Your wide hips swung sensually as you walked around to the other side of his cluttered desk to stand between his legs. “I know I’ve missed a few assignments but I’m willing to put in some real work to make it up to you.” Steven was barely even breathing as you kneeled before him, your hands slipping up his khaki pants to rest just centimetres from his growing cock.

“I-I.” Was all he could manage to get out before he began to whine. You winked at him and rocked up onto your knees. You placed a gentle kiss to his bulge and then took his fly between your teeth, slowly pulling it down. 

His cock springs free, slapping against his still clothed belly, leaving a small wet spot on the dark fabric. You nosed at his hot length, licking at the few veins that snaked up to his now purple tip. “Mmm professor.” You hummed. Steve bucked in your hold, desperately trying to get some much needed friction.

“P-please love, please.” He begged, fingers curling into a tight fist. He fought the urge to push your sweet mouth down onto his cock even if you were teasing him so cruelly. You smirked wickedly before finally putting him out of his misery.

Your lips closed around his tip, the delectably salty taste of his pre-cum exploding on your tongue. Steven let out a beautiful moan, his voice rising in pitch as his head fell back between his shoulders. Slowly, you swallowed down even more of him until your nose was pressed against the thick thatch of hair at the base of his pelvis.

“Holy- I- Oh by the gods.” His eyes cracked open and then immediately slammed shut. You were too beautiful, too sexy on your knees before him. The sight alone was enough to rocket him to his end and he really wanted to make this last. “That’s it, keep going. Such a good girl.” You moaned, your plump thighs pressed together to bring relief to your own aching sex. 

Unable to take it anymore, you pulled off his cock and immediately straddled his strong thighs, not even giving his length time to get cold before he was notched at your entrance and you were sinking down onto him.

“Jesus, loosen up, you’re squeezing me so tight.” He groaned through gritted teeth, his hands coming up to grip at your plush hips beneath the skirt.  You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you began to bounce atop him.

You pressed your lips right behind his ear. “I’m so proud of you baby, you deserve this promotion, you deserve to do what you love.” His cock twitched wildly within you, the praise going right to his head- both of them. “Now let me spoil you my love.”

Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @km-ffluv

Marvel

@lokiandbuckysdoll @andreasworlsboring101 @pretty-npeach @luvvvjada @cakesandtom@elizabethmidnight2017 @beautyb1ade @bitchy-bi-trash @mewlingoizys @queer_poncho @everything-is-awesomesauce

[raccoonfallsharder]

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip. part one. prepare for departure.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist next part | main masterlist

angst, comfort, friendship, & fluff for @hibatasblog rocket & wanda | part 1/7 | word count: 1371.

rocket gets a very-important mission from danvers and needs a partner to go with him. enter the witch.

It is a well-documented fact (I know you know) that in the comic books, many of the marvel ladies have a thing for Rocket Raccoon. How could they not? Eyes like red beryls and pyropes, teeth and wit both so sharp they can kill long before the perfectly-aimed gravity-blast. Intuition off the charts, not to mention the things they've heard he can do with that tail...

Alas, this is not the comics. This is the MCU, some time between 2018 and 2023.

And while everything else remains more or less the same, Wanda Maximoff was not turned into ash.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Rocket says, rolling his eyes.

Wanda isn’t sure what to call him. He looks like a raccoon, but insists that he isn’t one. Maybe he’s an alien. Maybe he’s something else. Either way, he’s rolling his eyes at Natasha, so hard that his whole head rolls with them.

“Look, I got a very important mission from Danvers, and Nebs is busy right now, working with Kraglin to make Knowhere a more hospitablistic place for Snap refugees. D’you wanna fuck over a bunch of Snap refugees, Nat?”

He crosses his arms and raises a brow up at the new leader-apparent of the Avengers. If Wanda hadn’t felt so — nothing at all, actually — she might have let a smirk curl the corner of her mouth. He’s kind of a brat, and he knows how to get under peoples’ skin. When she’d been a child, she would have found that entertaining. Endearing. She supposes she’d used to have a soft spot for scrappy survivors. Then she’d had to stop having a soft spot for anything but her brother.

Then —

“Goddammit, Rocket. Go to Washington, then. I don’t care. But we still need the Benatar.”

His challenging look turns into a glower. “Fuck off, Nat. What am I supposed to do, then? Drive your frickin’ car?”

Natasha flaps a hand at him distractedly from behind her desk. “Yes, that’s fine, take the car—”

The look he gives her is withering. “I can’t reach the fuckin’ pedals, Nat. So unless you’re giving me permission to take the whole inefficient machine apart an’ put it back together to suit my needs, you’re gonna have to—”

“I can’t spare anyone, Rocket,” the Russian snaps.

“And I can’t be alone right now,” he snaps right back. Wanda’s eyes flick back and forth between them. 

Natasha grits her teeth. “You said this was a mission from Carol?”

“Yes,” he hisses, tapping one booted foot impatiently. 

She closes her eyes and sighs heavily, leaning back in her chair and pressing her fingers into her temples. “Fine,” she says at last, drawing the word out — petulantly, Wanda thinks from a great distance. “Find someone who’s willing to go with you and I’ll tell you if I can spare them.”

Rocket doesn’t hesitate. Without moving anything but his arm, he’s brandishing a single dark claw in Wanda’s direction.

“I’ll take the witch.”

Five years earlier — in the first days after the Snap, before they’d left all their hope on 0259-S with Thanos’ headless body — everyone else had belonged to somebody. Cap and Nat had each other, and Nat had Banner and the arrow-guy. Rhodey had the rich guy who thought he was a genius, and the rich guy had that other redhead. Thor had maybe lost the most, but he had Banner too, and his buddies from Sakaar. The Dora Milaje had their whole sisterhood. Only Danvers might have been on her own — but as far as Rocket had been able to tell, Captain Marvel hadn’t seemed to have a lotta close ties she was mourning.

But Rocket — Rocket had nobody. 

Again.

Nobody except Gamora’s sister, whose name he’d kept forgetting.

Of course, there was the witch. 

Disproportionate number of redheads on this planet, he remembers thinking bemusedly.

He hadn’t been able to remember her name for a while either, but unlike everyone else on Terra, she’d seemed almost as alone as he was. And he hadn’t been able to help but watch her, his eyes slanting sideways to stare at her as she’d sat by herself across the room, hands anchored around upper arms. He couldn't make out the color of her eyes — they’d seemed impossibly dark, with rage or grief or something else, something haunted.  

Except for when they’d smouldered like furious banked fires. 

She’d never said a frickin’ word, either: face blank and beautiful as a statue’s. Her silence had felt more surreal than any other stupid thing he’d encountered in space, which he supposed was probably just because he’s spent the last four years with a family of weirdos who’d never seemed able to shut the fuck up. 

Still. He’d tilted his head when the other avengers had walked past her — watched as they’d seemed almost to forget she was even there. They’d barely talked to her, and once, when they’d been ordering lunch, they’d missed her entirely.

Uh — you didn’t ask the witch what she wants, Rocket had said to Nat awkwardly, and the assassin had blinked and her eyes had hunted the whole room before they’d finally focused on the other woman — like she hadn’t even known where her fellow-Avenger was. 

No. The witch had been an outcast. And Rocket has always known something about outcasts. His whole frickin’ family — both, some small part of his brain had tried to speak up before he could smother it; both families were made of the unwanted — his whole frickin’ family had been outcasts and misfits. It had made some part of Rocket’s heart suddenly stretch in his chest. It had reached with grasping fingers, trying to hang onto something he’d already known he’d lost.

Family.

The next day, Rocket had cleared his throat and told Gamora’s sister that he was gonna go starside to touch base with Kraglin on the Third Quadrant — to see if he still exists, he hadn’t said, but he’d been pretty sure the cyborg had picked it up. 

“You wanna come, Blue?” he’d asked — wincing when his nonchalance had been too thin to be believable. But the Luphomoid had inclined her head, eyes dark and steady. When that had been squared away — surprisingly a hell of a lot easier than he’d thought — he’d  shuffled to his feet, and headed to the bench outside the compound, where the witch had been sitting since sunrise.

He’d stood in her line of vision and stared at the sky too, shifting his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, tail trying to tuck itself underneath him. It had probably been a full twenty minutes before he’d felt her eyes on him.

“I. Uh. I heard you lost your robot-boyfriend.” The words had been as clumsy as an orloni drunk on fermented Asgardian figs, but he’d been trying.

The witch’s eyes had flared, crimson-bright. “Robot?” she’d repeated dangerously.

Rocket’s ears had flicked back and he’d taken a step away, into the grass: hands extended, palms out.

“Hey, m’not trying to be a dick,” he’d protested. “I think I might be part-robot myself.” He’d stabbed a thumb over his shoulder toward the Benatar, where he could feel  his new blue companion staring holes in his back. “Gamora’s sister’s almost all-robot, too.” 

He could also feel the sister in question rolling her eyes. 

“M’just saying,” he’d muttered at both of them, hunching his shoulders and half-turning to kick a patch of grass. “Some of us are solo now.” He’d gestured at the cyborg again. “Might be good to stick together.” 

“I was used to being solo,” Nebs had pointed out, and Rocket had winced. “You’re the one who got attached.”

His ears had flattened. “Whatever,” he’d growled. “Just thought — whatever.” He’d spun again, kicking more grass, and muttered bitterly under his breath. “So much for trying to be the captain. So much for trying to look out for the damn strays.”

“You’re the stray,” Nebula had replied with a mutinous jut of her chin — and how the fuck had she heard him? That wasn’t standard Luphomoid hearing range. 

Rocket had cursed whatever aural implants Thanos had given her. 

Then the witch had made a strange sound behind him — a little huff of breath.  A disbelieving, agonized little shred of laughter.

the raccoon, the witch, & the roadtrip masterlist next part | main masterlist

During a watch party for Avengers: Endgame on Twitter, Markus revealed the idea to team Wanda with the Guardian of the Galaxy captain actually made it into several versions of the film's script. "We had whole drafts with Wanda on a road trip with Rocket," Markus wrote, "but after the Vision plot in Infinity War, nothing we came up with was anything but wheel spinning for her character." CBR

[fishiecomics]

Beastober Day 10: Teeth

Season 4 Friday League short story below cut :D Prompt list Day 1 Day 2 Day 3 Day 4 Day 5 Day 6 Day 7 Day 8 Day 9

It came on suddenly. One minute Fishy was relaxing poolside with Tom and Oak, chatting about different foods they wanted to try if they could and the next she felt the overwhelming urge to throttle Oak. She lurched forward, a burning sensation hitting the back of her throat. Her fellow rockets noticed immediately, Oak sitting up and Tom raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, are you okay?” Fishy nodded, waving him off.

“It’s fine, just. Something feels off.” She said through gritted teeth with more irritation than she meant. Tom quickly reached for their communicator and typed a message out. ‘Is it cramps? Are you pregnant?’ Oak and Fishy stared at him.

“Tom.” Oak stated. Tom just smiled with a shrug. Fishy wants to banter with them, but she felt like if she tried, she’d end biting their heads off.

“I’m gonna go lie down.” Fishy quickly hopped off her pool chair and ran towards the house Tom had made for them.

“Let us know if you need anything!” She barely registered Oak’s shout as she ascended the ladder up to their shared little room. She sat at the foot of the bed, gripping the blanket like her life depended on it. ‘What the fuck is going on?’ she thought to herself, doing her best to calm herself down. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe. ‘Everything’s fine, we had a fun session yesterday, so why…’ her eyes shot open.

“Fuck.” She muttered. These weren’t her emotions. It was the other one. The “Big Man Upstairs,” as she called them, mentioned something about the original soul still being tied to this body, so if they experienced strong emotion, she’d feel it.

Suddenly it wasn’t just the other one’s anger she was feeling. Why did she have to deal with the other one’s bullshit? This wasn’t her problem. She gritted her teeth harder until-

POP

Fishy saw her front teeth fall to the floor, thankfully landing in the center of a plank. She didn’t know what she’d do if they’d fallen into the void. She knows she’ll reappear if she jumped down there, but parts? She might talk to Tom about that later. Not that Tom would lose any body parts like she would, but she thinks he’d enjoy the topic.

Fishy reaches down and grabs the teeth, roughly shoving them back into her mouth. She feels the squish of them going in and then uses her tongue to feel that they’re back in place, putting a bit of pressure on them to see if they’ll fall back out. They don’t, luckily, with Fishy assuming whatever magic or force that’s keeping this body working doing its thing.

She leaned back into the bed, resting her head onto the pillow and curling in on herself. She wasn’t going to let this be an issue. As long as she stayed up here, it would pass. The Saturday games didn’t last too long, same amount of time as their game did, so all she had to do was wait it out.

“It’ll pass.” She told herself. “It’ll pass.”