#:) I wonder what happens next

[reallucywestenra]

There was once a middle age man who swallowed a fly.

[withdrawingramen]

i think we've all seen this happen in some whump media or the other; that one moment of intense tension between whumper and whumpee when whumpee, in a brief fit of rage and courage, catches whumper off guard and manages to smash something over their head. it's whatever. the dripping of the blood on the ground, and whumper staggering forward as whumpee steps back in astonishment of what they accomplished. it's the wordless death stare that whumper gives them a minute later, still conscious and bloodied, to let whumpee know that they've made a grave mistake.

[novarhetta]

Deadly Memory

By NovaRhetta

Word Count: 1,240

A Short Horror Story

"Why am I in pain?"

I dim the lights, watching the room darken around me. A knife trembles in my right hand, unsure of its purpose as I run across the room. I find my place behind a couch, pressing my back against it as I hold the knife with both hands. Scooting along the floor, I peek around, catching a glimpse of the outdoors through the sliding glass window a few feet from the couch. But… why am I looking that way?

I can't remember. That's right, I have trouble remembering things, don't I? It's been this way for a while now. The doctors told me before that they doubt it will get better.

No… focus. There's a knife in my hands. Why am I shaking? I glance around the couch. Strange, the sliding glass door is open. Did I do that? I stand, walking towards the door so that I can close it. The warm outside air calms me, before I tell myself I should close it. Shhhhk-click! It closes easily. That's a relief. I make sure to lock it this time.

Creeeaaaak.

I turn around quickly. That sound came from my kitchen, didn't it? Was it my cat, Sammy? No, he died over a year ago. I remember that. Remember, remember… I look to my right hand. I'm holding a knife. I'm protecting myself! My gaze darts to the kitchen as I hear another creak. Someone else is here. But I live alone, I know I do. I need to get closer, quietly. Why is it so dark? My feet shuffle across the floor, but I am startled when my leg hits a small side table by the couch. Clunk. That was too much noise. When did I put that there? I should have known it would get in the way. Wait, why didn't I see that? Right it's dark. I must have gotten up and forgotten to turn on the light.

I move towards the kitchen. I lift my free hand to the light switch. Or, where I thought it would be. Huh, it's not here. It was always to the right of the doorway, I thought. Or maybe… to the left? I should check the other side. I fumble against the wall, finding it on the other side.

Click.

Good, now I can see. I feel dizzy for a moment, the sudden change must have caught my body off guard. I turn and look around the empty kitchen. I came in here for something…

The weight in my hand draws my attention. I look down, and see a knife. It isn't causing a shine in the light, so I inspect it closer, and find it to have blood along the blade. Hold on… blood?! Wait, breathe. There must be an explanation. Maybe I was cooking. I scan the kitchen again, but I don't see any food out. Where did this blood come from? I have to remember.

A note rests on the kitchen counter, golden and torn on one side, as if it was haphazardly ripped from a page of notebook paper. I notice this, and set down the knife so that I can pick it up.

"Remember to eat."

I sigh. It was just a reminder. Oh, food, of course. I must be hungry. I don't feel hungry, though. Should I eat anyway?

I make my way to the fridge and raise a hand to open the door. Taped to it, however, is another note, scrawled in handwriting that isn't mine.

"Reminder: 7:00"

Seven, what's happening at seven?

A knock jolts my attention to the sliding glass door by the back of the house. I turn on my heels when I hear the latch clicking, my eyes locking onto the knife resting on the counter, the handle precariously hanging over the edge. Did I put that there? I must have. As the sliding glass door opens, I lunge forward and thrust a hand out. I misjudge the distance, and as my hand smacks the handle, it flies end over end, cutting into my wrist before clattering to the ground with far too much noise. Why did I put it so far away?

"Hello?" A voice calls out.

It's a woman. Is it? Who is it? I'm not expecting anyone. I look at the light switch. I wish the light was out. I could hide that way. Why do I need to hide? Right, the woman. I take a step forward, and my foot lands on a knife, the blade slicing into my flesh. I hiss and pick it up.

"Where are you?" The woman's voice speaks again.

Crap, someone else is here! Who is here? I look down at my hand, a bloody knife held within my trembling fist. I'm defending myself! Of course! I'm already hurt, but I can do this. I take a deep breath. A figure walks from around the corner.

I lunge, and my knife finds purchase in their abdomen. It makes a sickening shlck as it enters their body.

"Wh-what are you- agh!"

A woman falls backwards. They're scrambling, trying to back away from me. I stand my ground, the feeling of the knife entering their body lingering in my mind, if only for a few seconds.

"You, you stabbed me!" They scream.

My eyes widen. Did I? Why did I stab this person? They look harmless. Who are they? I look up and down their body, noticing the knife still embedded in their chest. They're hurt! I should hurry. I run into the kitchen and fumble for my phone, quickly dialing 9-1-1. The line rings, and an operator answers.

"9-1-1, what's the emergency?" A man speaks.

"Emergency?" I question. Was there one? "Um, there might be. My- my arm and foot hurt. I'm not sure why."

"Alright, what is your location?" He asks.

I hear a noise behind me. When I turn around, there's a woman holding a knife. Both the knife and the woman are soaked in blood. I gasp and drop my phone. A bloodcurdling scream escapes my throat, and I jump backwards, hitting my head on an opened cupboard and falling backwards, which then causes my head to slam into the wooden countertop underneath. My vision blurs, and then fades.

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

Several minutes later, the woman who was stabbed, a nurse, is guided onto a gurney. Her uniform is torn and stained red with her own blood, a gash on her side still bleeding.

"She, she didn't recognize me," the woman tries to explain to the police officer as the gurney is lifted onto an ambulance.

"Try to calm down," the paramedic tells her, taking a seat next to the nurse and setting her up for the ride to the hospital. "You've lost a lot of blood already."

The officer tips his hat. "I'll meet you at the hospital when you're in better shape to talk." He takes a step back.

"She didn't remember," the nurse tries again with the paramedic. "She remembered before. But she didn't this time. Check her medicine. We have to check-" She winces as she feels a needle enter her skin. Soon, the world around her blurs, as her adrenaline fades, and the medicine kicks in.

A few feet away, a woman is carried kicking and screaming into a different car. She appears delirious, screaming over and over again.

"What did you do to me?! Why am I in pain?!"

--End--

I wrote this one quite a long time ago. Figured it was about time I shared it lol

[joshuamj]

Okay, but what if EoW!Zelda had to impersonate Link

[angelcake10023]

Samadhi Fire Tang Au- Part 2

What’ve you done?

Previous/Next

[kettlefire]

As Good as Good Gets (DP X DC Snippet)

Richard "Dick" Grayson is the golden child. In the eyes of the public, and in the eyes of the league. Dick is a sweet, caring son, a man who went from being a sidekick to being a hero. The pipeline from Robin to Nightwing had many people applauding his dedication to keeping Gotham safe.

No one knew the full story, not truly. No one but Bruce Wayne himself. And maybe a certain butler. Many don't know that Dick only became Robin to stop him from hunting down and killing the man who killed his parents.

No one really knows about the harsh fights and arguments he has had with Bruce. The times when Dick would find himself cut off from the Wayne name for a week or so. No one knows that the first person Dick warmed up to was Alfred. Having been bribed with cookies.

Things weren't always this good, trusting, happy relationship between Bruce and Dick. It had been a rough ride, a complicated one. But that was okay, because it got better.

Dick stopped being so moody and angsty. He grew up, he learned, and he changed. He became an older brother, found people that needed him. Needed him in a way that the citizens of Gotham didn't need him.

His brothers like to call him annoying. A goody two shoes who Bruce trusted more than everyone else. They couldn't fathom how someone like Dick could be so stupid and bubbly at all times.

All times, except when shit hits the fans. Despite the name calling, despite coining Dick as the stupid Wayne. They all knew better. They knew that when it mattered, Dick Grayson always pulled through. He was a force to be reckoned with when needed.

The whole Wayne family was a force to be reckoned with when called for. It didn't have to be under the guise of costumes and vigilante acts. Whether he was Officer Grayson or Nightwing, Dick was a man with his morals and values.

One night on patrol as Officer Grayson, Dick found someone who needed that force. A force willing to protect and care for the innocent. The hurt. The damaged, yet still good.

It started like any other night. A call of shots fired by an empty warehouse. There was no sighting or knowledge of any rouges being there, so Dick took the call. Told the team he'll contact them if it seems more than just a civilian incident.

The warehouse was dark, reeked of copper and oil. It didn't take long for Dick to find the trail. The liquid he found looked like the person had been dragged before walking. There was a clear struggle, even with the mess and emptiness that was the warehouse.

That wasn't Dick's biggest concern. The concern lay in just how much blood there was. Too much for any normal person to lose and still manage to stumble through the warehouse.

It wasn't just blood. It wasn't that much, but Dick could spot the strangeness in the liquid. The mixed in green that had an eerily similar color and glow as a certain pit.

Without thinking, Dick followed the trail. Barely remembering to make contact with his family. Give them an update on what he found. Words telling him to stay put for backup went in one ear and out the other.

Something in Dick's gut was telling him he couldn't wait. He needed to find the source. Whoever was currently bleeding out in this warehouse. He silenced the comm, moving further through the dimly lit building.

Then Dick found it. Or more so, he found him. It was just a boy. A boy that reminded Dick too much of the youngest Wayne. A boy sat against a wall, looking pale and weak.

Red and green coated the front of the boy's shirt, arms wrapped tightly around his middle. An attempt to stem the bleeding. A puddle had already started to form beneath the boy, and Dick moved without thinking once again.

He quickly found himself kneeling beside the boy, hands carefully reaching out. Before Dick even touched him, the boy flinched. Eyelids suddenly opened, wide and terrified blue eyes landed on Dick's.

In just that one look, Dick knew what he had to do. The haunting, terrified, and pained look in the boy's eyes told Dick everything he needed to know. The boy was in danger. Someone had hurt this kid, and it was clear it wasn't the first time.

The boy struggled weakly against Dick's touch, terrified whimpers, and barely coherent pleas spilled from the kid's lips. It had Dick's heart aching, clear as day the poor kid has been through hell and back.

It took a lot of reassurance, gentle touches, and promises of help before the kid let Dick take a look at the bleeding wound. A promise on Dick's soul had been the final thing that earned him any semblance of trust. A strange promise, but Dick was willing to make it.

That concern turned to pure anger the moment Dick managed to pull the sticky shirt away from the wound. The sight of a Y-incision cut perfectly into the skin, stitches tight on the skin, but blood still leaking heavily from the wound.

It didn't take long for Dick to realize why. Despite the perfect surgical care of the wound, a good couple of stitches had broken. Leaving gaping spots for that red and green liquid to pour out of.

The boy was deathly silent, tears streaking down his cheek as wide blue eyes stayed trained on Dick. In that moment, Dick knew he had to help. Had to get the kid to safety, patch him up, and find out what kind of monster would do this.

It didn't matter if the kid was human or not. It didn't matter if the kid had special abilities or not. No one, absolutely no one, deserved to be vivisected.

The kid was shrouded in mystery, but that mystery only seemed to grow and become clearer when Bruce had entered the scene. The boy had tensed, eyes flashing a bright glowing green.

Lazarus pit green.

It set a pit of dread in Dick's gut. His mind brings forward memories of Jason. Jason, after his revival, after his dip in that cursed pit. The same flash that his brother would get if he got too angry. Too emotional.

As much as Dick wanted to focus on finding who did this, if it had any connection to Ra's al Ghul. He couldn't. Not when the kid tried to get up, to pull away as Bruce and the others made their way closer.

Right now, Dick only cared about making sure the boy was okay. Fixing those stitches, getting him a meal, and a warm bed.

He needed to get this kid someplace where he felt safe and secure. Comfortable and protected. Dick wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the promise he had made, but he wasn't letting anyone get to the kid.

That included his family. As strange as it seemed, Dick put himself between the others and the kid. Shooting them all a glare that they had only ever seen a handful of times.

Dick lifted the poor boy up in his arms, cradling the crying child close as he led the way out of the warehouse. Ignoring the questions or confusion coming from Bruce and the others. As Dick walked, feeling the trembling boy clinging to him, he made a rather obvious realization.

Maybe the eldest son really was more like Bruce than he expected. Just a few short moments the the boy, a boy that Dick didn't know his name, and he was ready to pull out adoption papers. To give the boy a safety he so desperately needs.

Give him the chance that Bruce had given him all those years ago.

[noodles-and-tea]

Photos taken moments before disaster(?)

[mkarchin713]

DCxDP Prompt 1

Amity Park is no longer safe for Danny. Luckily one of his ally’s is able to arrange a safe place for Danny in another country.

…

In other news the UN representative from Gorilla City keeps throwing what everyone hopes to be mud at the white suited gentleman the American ambassador has with them. When questioned the representative from Gorilla City was quoted as saying “they know what they did”.

[paintedhen]

bad ending

( @mettatonmay day 17: fight )

[karvviie]

(opening my 10k word document of mainewash AU content) welcome to my twisted mind…

[plutonicbees]

cassie sandsmark star jorts from issue #23 of yj98 you have always been famous to me

(before pic + additional photos and unnecessary ramblings under the cut)

I made these jorts in 22 hours over the course of 3 days! pure willpower via my love for cassie sandsmark because I am a total novice in sewing and i am still not very good at it. (i really just combined various tutorials and improvised on measurements and then regretted improvising measurements later on).

I thrifted these jeans last year for cassie vibes (even though I had already made her star-spangled red bellbottoms at that point) and wasn't a fan of how they fit + I couldn't figure out how to style them. I enjoyed sewing in the panels to flare them out and then everything else (cargo pockets and sewing in stars) was hell <3

the pockets are not placed well (nor are they particularly well-made), the hem is uneven, the stars are quite janky (and I think I stitched on too many), I probably stabbed my fingers a million times, and I am so in love with them

[applestruda]

This fic is soso so so wonderful omg

[slvtboi]

wanna be pushed down, spanked till my ass is red, then my legs forced open to display my dripping pussy to the camera 🎥

[endlesslytired]

Penacony.

more from the post looooop:

[whollyjoly]

hot in the day, hot in the night, hot as the coal coming to tread, light on your bed, here we go oh, listen whistle roll (baby the, the sun is getting low)

the bucktommy cowboy au nobody asked for part two (part one) (part three)

(song insp.)

[beware-of-you-98]

i know, i know, jj is so fucking strong and she perseveres despite everything she’s gone through, i know, but fucking hell my heart is breaking over and over for her

the far away look in her eyes

the constant fidgeting to keep herself present

the way she only has the bare minimum amount of skin showing, even to where she’s covering her hands

my heart hurts for her so much and she’s forcing herself to deal with all of this alone