#and I am terrified he will wake up and all of a sudden see it and decide I am not worth it

[littlebittywildflower]

I am making another blood of coffee I have decided cause self care. I have art things to work on for my booth I need to be buzz buzz!

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Pay to Play

The last thing I remember is a van pulling up to the sidewalk and two men grabbing me. I vaguely recall a syringe going into my arm and the pain of an injection but that’s all that I can remember of when I wake up. I’m in a dark room, tied to a chair, and gagged. There are several other girls in the room as well, all tied and gagged just like I am. The fear is palpable as we look between ourselves. Some are crying and most of us are squirming and struggling to no avail.

Suddenly, the door to the room we’re in swings open and several men walk in. No one says a word as the men go towards the girl closest to the door and pick her up, chair included. They leave with her, just as suddenly as they arrived, leaving the rest of us in stunned silence.

I feel tears well up in my eyes, the fear and confusion becoming too much for me to process. One of the girls screams behind her gag and another one joins her. A few more join in but no one beyond the door seems to notice and eventually, we all quiet again, each of us trying to cope in our own ways.

An unknown amount of time passes and suddenly the doors slam open again. The men return but there is no sign of the first girl. They head towards the second girl and grab her the same way, ignoring her wails from behind the gag and her desperate struggling against her bonds. They leave with her, just like before.

It becomes a pattern. The men come and take the next girl in line every so often and none of us know what to expect or how to stop it. Soon, I’m up next. It’s been so long since I woke up that I’ve stopped crying already. My arms are sore from being tied up and my legs are numb from sitting.

The doors slam open again and I’m carried away. I’m brought to a room surrounded by lights, the sudden brightness making me squint and blink. When my vision focuses again, I realize the men are gone and I’m alone. I’m surrounded by cameras, and there’s a large screen in front of me playing a live feed of the room, and I see myself. My hair is tangled, my eyes are red from crying, and I look terrified. What’s next to the footage is what makes my blood run cold. It’s a chat box, and I can see the comments coming in. Comments about how I look, about how excited viewers are for the “show,” and how much they think I’m worth. I realize in that moment that I’m being livestreamed and about to be sold off to the highest bidder.

A door opens and a man walks in. He’s wearing a mask that covers most of his face and he has on a microphone that I can only assume let’s him talk to the stream’s viewers.

“Welcome! Our next lovely girl is here with us now. You all know the rules, if you win the auction, you must transfer funds immediately and she will be prepared for shipment or pick-up, depending on your preference. Let’s begin.”

He walks toward me, and I whimper behind the gag, terrified of what’s to come. He pulls out a pair of scissors, and swiftly cuts away at my clothes, pulling them off my naked body and I’m crying now. I can see myself on the screen, my sobs making my body shake as I try my best to curl into myself.

The comments start to flood into the chat box now, people discussing my body, my tits, my pussy. I see bids start to come in too, and part of me is shocked to see the amount of money these people are throwing out.

The man comes back into my view and he’s holding a vibrator in his hand. I wail behind the gag, shaking my head and struggling uselessly in my bonds. He isn’t deterred and I watch as he clicks it on. I’m straining to close my legs but the ropes are too tight and chair too unyielding. He brings the vibrator between my legs and I wail when I feel it touch my clit. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, he presses the vibrating head directly onto my clit and holds it there, letting the vibrations batter me.

I scream behind the gag as I feel the sensation overwhelm me. At first, the fear dampened any pleasure but as the seconds dragged on and the vibrator stayed pressed up against my most delicate area, I could feel my body reacting. Waves of stimulation crash over me and I can feel the first inklings of an orgasm starting to build. The man keeps the horrible vibrator on my pulsing clit and my tears are now in response to the unbearable pleasure that I never wanted, and certainly not like this.

The vibrator pushes my body closer and closer to a wrecking orgasm, and I can’t do anything other than feel it happen. I arch my back and squirm as much as I can when the incomprehensible pleasure crescendos and I shatter. I can feel my pussy clenching around nothing and gushing out my release, my clit pulsing in time to my heartbeat, and my mind fading to a haze of pleasure and pain as the vibrator continues to ravage me.

“Orgasm in one minute and 37 seconds, and she’s a squirter,” the man announces matter-of-factly. “Let’s see how hard we can push her.”

I look up from tear-blurred eyes, seeing the comments flood in on the chat box on screen. I’ve always been sensitive post-orgasm and the fact that the man hasn’t pulled away the vibrator is pushing me into a painful overstimulation that’s making my stomach clench in fear. He reaches down with his free hand and maneuvering around the vibrator to pull back the soft skin that normally surrounds my clit, protecting it. My eyes widen and I let out a guttural scream behind the gag as the overwhelming, horrible vibrator now decimates my clit with nothing to soften the nerve-fraying stimulation.

I feel my eyes roll up into my head and my body is thrown into a second orgasm with no preparation. Just pure, unstoppable pleasure that burns every single nerve in my body. I can’t even breathe or scream or cry as my entire being is locked in a soul-shattering explosion that seems to go on forever.

I have no idea how much time passes or how many orgasms that terrible pleasure is able to tear from my body before the vibrator finally moves away. I’m shaking, crying, gasping for air and my clit is burning and twitching from the continued stimulation.

When I finally gather myself enough to open my eyes and see the on-screen chat box, I feel my heart stutter when I read some of the things people are saying.

“Fuck, she’s hot like that, I wonder if she’d survive a day strapped to a fucking machine.”

“I want to string her up and see how good of a whipping she could handle before she begs.”

“Her little clitty looks perfect for a piercing, and I could run electricity through it and really make her scream and cum.”

That last one makes me whimper and I pull my attention away from the screen, hoping that this nightmare is almost over.

“Now for a change of pace,” the man says from across the room. My eyes dart over to him and see that the men who’d brought me here are back again, rolling in a different chair, this one built like a gynecologist’s exam table with stirrups. I shake slightly in fear as they approach me and untie me before manhandling me into the exam chair. I’m too weak to even resist as they strap my body down, my feet going into the stirrups and my legs, arms, and body immobilized with straps.

The men leave and I look up at the livestream of myself, seeing how fear has made my eyes wide with gruesome anticipation. I can see clearly in the video, my clit looking so red and angry while my pussy still drips from the torment of pleasure they’d subjected me to moments before. I watch as the masked man approaches me, wheeling over a tray containing more horrible toys and devices.

He pulls a metal speculum off the tray and comes to stand before me. I’m shaking with terror, desperately trying to beg from behind the gag. He’s uncaring as he slides the device against my pussy, pushing the cold, hard metal inside of me. My back arches as my pussy fills and I whine, wishing that I didn’t find this violation pleasurable.

The man starts to crank the handle of the device, the motion forcing the speculum to open me up. I can’t help but moan, feeling an unbearable fullness start to build as the device pushes my pussy wide open. Eventually, he stops and takes a step back.

I watch through the livestream as he grabs a long, thin wand from the tray and comes back. I can feel my pussy pulsing around the speculum holding me open, and I know there’s nothing I can do to prevent whatever deranged thing he plans on doing next.

“Let’s see how she reacts to some internal stimulation.”

Without any other warning, the man slides the thin wand into me and presses a button that makes it start emitting a low pulsing vibration. He brushes against the walls of my pussy and I shake at the onslaught of pleasure. The speculum gives him easy, perfect access and the thin wand means he has every bit of precision at his disposal as he targets my most vulnerable places.

I choke on a gasp when he finds my g-spot and presses into it with heart-stopping accuracy. I feel my toes curl and my eyes roll to the back of my head as painful, unbearable pleasure overwhelms me. He turns up the wand to an unimaginable intensity and drives it into the tenderness of my pussy. I cum immediately. My pussy gushes and my juices flood out of me as the pleasure ravages my body with no mercy.

Just like with my clit, the man doesn’t let up. I’m locked in this impossible pleasure and overstimulation as my vision goes white and my body feels ripped to shreds by every orgasm that pours out of me.

When he finally stops, I don’t even feel human anymore. My mind is empty, there is absolutely nothing left other than the pure pleasure that laid waste to my entire being. I’m vaguely aware of the man announcing final call for bids but I’m too incoherent to really register what is going on around me. Suddenly, I feel a prick on my arm and slowly turn my head to watch a syringe pull out of my arm. My head spins and I feel sleep encroaching on my mind.

Just before my darkness overwhelms my vision and I sink into unconsciousness, I catch a glance of the screen and see how much money was spent on me. There’s a muted sense of astonishment. It’s more money than I could even fathom, more than I could make in a lifetime. And someone just spent it on me, in exchange for my complete ownership.

[phoenixcatch7]

In the possessed doll au, Bruce is definitely a creepy kid.

This is, after all, a haunted au.

He looks like a 'murdered victorian child' kid. Even before he watched his parents die.

Like, very big pale blue eyes. Significantly more striking /pos as a smiling adult than a perpetually blank faced unblinking child. He looks like he knows how you die. Pale skin, ink black hair traditionally styled, big dark lashes to frame those uncanny eyes. Just the hint of eye bags.

Alfred in any timeline has a spine of steel, but there must have been at least once when he was woken up in the night to a tiny shape staring unblinkingly deep into his eyes and thought 'I am going to die'. Normal kids are absolutely terrifying to wake up to, as any parent will attest, but imagine being an ex military spy now butler living alone on the most cursed land you've ever imagined, taking care of the only kid after your employers, his parents were brutally murdered, and suddenly you jolt awake in the middle of the night to see two enormous eyes less than a foot from your face, two engorged dots for pupils, staring, still as stone into your very soul.

Bruce, hushed because it's bedtime: Mr Alfred I threw up :(.

Alfred, trying to calm his thundering heart and not reflexively shoot his ward, dizzy from the sudden adrenaline from deep sleep rush, not letting himself freak out in front of the boy:.............................. Oh dear. That's not good.

Bruce, still not blinking or looking away: :(((

Wayne manor is a setting from a murder mystery at night, and it's not Bruce but Alfred that's the main character.

Perhaps, he thinks, it was always going to end this way. Not because of fate, but because the characters of the play would not know themselves to act otherwise.

@puppetmaster13u may I present?

[annwe24]

Part 2!DEVOTION

Part 1

CREATOR!LUCIFER X READER

Summary: You feel trapped in the luxurious cage that Lucifer created.

You wake up with a sense of dread. The first thing you do is eyeing the neatly folded clothes on the edge of your bed. You have never questioned his fashion choice. But now, you start seeing the pattern with the color white and the doll-like features. It is almost as if this is all simply a dollhouse for him to play with. It is sickening.

You find him at his usual spot in the kitchen, cooking as always. If this was a normal morning, you would be a little noisy. However, as of right now, even a slight creak of the chair feels interrupting. Lucifer sets down your plate of food. You notice a strange glint in his eye. He is oddly quiet too. Putting on his white coat, he softly said to you:

I am going to be home late tonight. Please don't wait up, okay? Get some sleep.

Where are you going?

Somewhere unimportant.

He says as he pats your head.

…

Sleeping is what you should have been doing right now instead of contemplating. You think about a lot of things, especially memories. You remember the time you went into existence. Almost all of your life is spent here in these confining walls. Lucifer created you from the holy dust of a dead exorcist out of pure curiosity. He loves creating and experimenting. Rubber duck is just one of his countless creations, including you. He loves his creations. You can't help but smile at the memory of him hunching over his desk making a rubber duck. For something so small, he spends so much time and energy, wanting to achieve perfection. Just like how he loves you. Are you being selfish?

Bang!

The noise makes you jump out of the bed, blanket and pillows fly all over. Could it have come from Lucifer? You glance at the clock. The green electric light read as 2:04. It couldn't have been an invader. The mansion is a King’s residence afterall. You consider the most terrifying possibility: Lucifer is letting out his frustration. Even so, you find the courage to go downstairs and calm him down. For someone who is supposed to be a ruthless ruler, just the mention of your name is enough for him to stop whatever he’s doing. You can't handle the thought of Lucifer getting himself hurt.

It's pathetic. He’s pathetic. Never in your life would you have expected to see this: Lucifer wasted next to a broken vase. Even the air around him reeks of alcohol. Dusting the invisible dust on your nightgown, you mentally prepare yourself to lift his body up multiple staircases to reach his room. Looping one arm around his back, the other under both of his legs, you carry him in bridal style. Although you struggle greatly due to the weight, you can't help but feel embarrassed by the fact that Lucifer’s face is pressed close up your chest.

Finally, you manage to drop him on his king-sized bed. Taking a minute to catch your breath, you return to the matter at hand. You need to somehow change his current attire into something more…decent. Even with his white coat removed, the smell of alcohol cannot be extinguished. Hesitantly, you slowly remove the button of his waistcoat, then you move onto his shirt. The air around you feels disturbingly hot and you don't like how fast your heart is beating. As you're onto the third button, a hand shoots up to grab your own. You flinch at the sudden warmth that his hand provides, not daring to look at him straight in the face.

I’m sorry. Lucifer said with a raspy voice, looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

F-for what?

You silently curse at yourself for stumbling over your words like some teenagers. You probably sound stupid right now. Before you could answer, he had used his other free hand to caress the back of your head, tangle his fingers through the soft locks of your hair. Without warning, he crashed your head into his chest. You are an absolute mess right now. Whatever game he is playing, you are willing to be the victim, melting under his touch. You can faintly hear your heart beating in tandem with his heart. Through decades of living together, you two have only given each other delicate touches on the shoulders or hands, not enough to leave burning marks on your whole body like this. You figure it is the alcohol that urges him to act so boldly. It stays like that for a while. Silence befalls on the both of you. The only sound that you can make out is your breathing noises. Just you and him. It has always been that way.

After some minutes, he lifted the entirety of your body up. You let out a small squeak as Lucifer lands you next to him onto the bed. He immediately engulfs you into a tight hug, your body flushed together. If someone were to ask you something right now, the only sound that could escape is your blabbering.

I’m sorry for everything.

The vibration coming from his chest steers reality one step further from you. Still, you collect yourself as best as you can to dissect his words. What does he mean by that?

What do you mean by that?

You find the courage to lift your head and look Lucifer in the eyes. The truth is finally so close.

I’ll…tell you everything later. Now is not the best time.

Okay, I understand.

If time is what he needs, you will gladly give, as long as the truth is delivered. Plus, you're not sure if you can understand half of the words if he decided to spill right now. The only thing you can make out right now is the fact that Lucifer looks absolutely stunning. His shirt is unbuttoned, letting you see a bit of his bare chest. His waistcoat is clinging loosely on his torso. You had never wanted to strip something off as much as this. You don't realize how dangerously close he is right now to you. Just a slight movement, a kiss can be delivered. You also don't realize how both of you are unconsciously leaning into each other. But intentionally for a kiss? You don't feel a kiss is what drawing you two closer. It is an instinct, a desire to be with one another. That desire slowly ignites into a passionate kiss you two are sharing. There is no battle to be won, no fighting for control. Just a slow dance of two mourning souls. The night passes with tenderness, clothes thrown onto the floor, forgotten. That night, your dreams are made of sweet little nothings, unaware of the angelic wings wrapping your sleeping form.

[cookierunauprompts]

AU Prompts #12 - ✦💓

<Reader is fem here btw>

CONTENT WARNING : There is a cult, human sacrifices, a bit of drowning and depictions of multiple eyes.

.

Admittedly, staying in a cult probably wasn't your best idea after finding out that you were living in a cult for most of your life. But alas, you were stupid. Upon the day of your village's Eclipse Festival, you were called into the Mayor's office. You'd only gone because you didn't really want them to catch onto the fact that you knew about the cult... Unfortunately it turns out that the Mayor called you in because they wanted you as sacrifice... Yippee. So, here you are in your fancy multiple layer dress of thin fabrics(or well, pastry if you wanna get into cookie terms), your body feels numb as you stand off the edge of the cliff at the rushing seas that had turned pitch black. Your mind feels less numb than your body, yet you can barely tell what's going on. You're pretty sure that the Mayor hypnotized you as well. The Beast of the Shadows... You're pretty sure that that's the thing they worship. You can only hope that it doesn't exist, and that you'd die a hopefully peaceful death of drowning. Or maybe a quick one of getting impaled on one of the rocks below. You don't know. And then, you're falling through the air. It feels for a moment like your sailing through space, you couldn't really tell up from down despite knowing what each were earlier. You felt a bit strange from your sudden spinning worldview. Time slowed as you began to think, everything you loved, dreamed, feared, and everything else that seemed so terrifying... You were leaving it behind right now. You hit the water with a loud splash, leaving a trail of bubbles in your wake as your slowly sunk down into the shadows of the sea. Well, at least you didn't get impaled on any of the rocks. In fact, all you could see around you was darkness. Darkness... darkness... Damn, that's a lot of darkness. Oh, there's something new.... Eyes? There's lots of them, big ones as well. Each one bares its gaze into your soul as you sink deeper and deeper. The first coherent though you have? ' Fuck, the beast might be real then.' You feel your back land upon something large, all the while a particularly bright pair of eyes stare at you. And then, there was just darkness.

----

You didn't expect to wake up, mind now unblurred as you can properly think again. First things first, where the hell are you? Looking around... It seemed to be some kind of palace? Everything was decorated in almost gloomy hues of blue and black, reminding you of the abyss you saw before you passed out. " Where... am I?" You mumble out, not expecting any response to come. " This is the Palace of Shadows." A voice begins, startling you as you let a shriek slip out of your mouth. You turn to see another cookie but... it looks like there's something fundamentally wrong with them. Almost like they'd been hollowed out. " The domain of the Beast of Shadows, or as he is known by here, Shadow Milk Cookie." " Okaaayyyy...." You said in confusion. " And who are you?" The cookie before you giggles, " Me? I have many different names and faces." They say almost gleefully. " But I am just an actor in Shadow Milk's plays, I have no real name or identity." Ah, that... probably explains the hollow feeling you get from them. " But you have a very very special role to play! One that will likely never change!" The cookie said enthusiastically, taking your hands and pulling you up off of the floor. " Yes, a very important role to play indeed!" You stared at them, cracking up a confused eyebrow. " Do I have to play sacrifice again? Because I'm not keen on doing that." You partially joke, and it seems like it was funny enough to send the cookie into a fit of laughter. " No, silly! You get to play the role of our Grand Director's Bride!" ... " what."

[footballfanficwriter]

Late night cravings

Summary:where the reader is craving  and she wakes Jude up to her her food

A/n: I am well aware of the war that is happening between Israel and Palestine and I just want to say I support Palestine, but I want to let you know that before reading this there will be mentions of companies that are owed by Israel so consider this a warning when reading also the timeline of these events are before the war or the war is nonexistent and is not taking place

__________________________________________

It's 3 in the morning and I'm tossing and turning in bed, I turn to my left and find Jude is fast asleep, how can he be asleep, how can he fall asleep so easily

I sigh, giving up on finding a comfortable position and just lying on my back, my pregnancy bump just slightly peeking out in my line of vision, I stare at the ceiling for a while and think about how life is going to be in a few months, having babies and a  being mother, and in a few years being referred to as mom, the new responsibilities I'll have, I can't lie I'm terrified, I mean you see all these cases of mother's mental health decrease and how they have post partum depression after giving birth, what If I became like that and start hating my babies because of their existence, and those poor children won't understand a thing that is happening, just that their mother doesn't want them, or what if I just get depressed, and the need to do anything just disappears, I mean I can't afford to be depressed, it's going to affect the babies especially when I'll be breastfeeding and all

I sigh again and try not to look at the negative side of the situation, Jude said I should always call him or wake him up whenever I feel like this so he can reassure me and make me feel like everything is going to be ok, but I don't want to bother him, especially when it's so late, he's already got a lot on his plate, I continue staring at the ceiling just tapping on my belly for a while, and that seems to have woken my unborn children because they start kicking, it must be a party in there

"Ok guys go back to bed, it's too early for you guys to be awake" I whisper

I sigh for the 3rd time knowing it won't work

All of a sudden I feel the urge to eat like I haven't eaten in a while, I'm craving McDonald's,  KFC, and oddly enough something sweet, I don't know what but I'm craving something sweet

I try to ignore my hunger but I can't , I use my arms and hands to make me sit up and turn my head towards Jude then sigh again

"Jude"

"Babe"

"Jude wake up"

He wakes up and looks at me with tired eyes

I instantly regret waking him up the minute I see his eyes

"It's ok honey go back to bed"

"No, what is it, what do you need me to do"

"No, it's alright, it's not important anyway"

"Well, it must be if you woke me up at 3:30 in the morning"

"No it's not, go back to sleep, I'm sorry for waking you up"

"You know I'm not going back to sleep if you're not going to tell me what's wrong" he says

We sit in silence for about 5 minutes

"I'm hungry" I say

"Ok" he says getting out of bed finding his pants and putting them, then his socks followed by his shoes and a black hoodie, he then grabs his phone and opens it

"What do you need" he asks

"No, come back to bed, you don't need to do anything"

"Honey I'm already out of bed, you might aswell tell me"

"Ok, I want two big mac's from McDonald's, hot wings from KFC 24 pieces, a medium sized pizza with cheese, chicken pepperoni, apple juice, and something sweet, I don't know what but I want something sweet"

"Is that all?"

I nod and he says

"Ok, I'll be back soon"

He slightly climbs over the bed and kisses my forehead

"Don't feel bad love, I don't mind going out to get you food"

"You sure?"

"Definitely"

He leaves the room and walks downstairs, opens the front door and he's out

It's only after an hour when I hear the front door open again indicating that Jude is home, I hear him come up the stairs, walk down the passage and the door to our room opens

I see him holding take out and he walks over to me and places everything on the bed

"Ok, so I got everything you asked me for but I didn't know what type of sweet thing you wanted so I got you your favorite sweets/candy and your favorite cake, is it too much?

"No no honey it's perfect"

"You sure?"

"Mhm"

"Ok"

"Thank you"

"You're welcome"

He takes his shoes off and goes to his closet to put them away, he comes back and sits on the bed while I start eating my food in silence

I then turn to him and see him lying on his back with his eyes, I place one of the big mac's on his lap and he looks at me

"What are you doing?" He asks

"Have something to eat"

"No it's fine babe go ahead besides you're eating for 3"

"Yes but you still need to eat"

He sighs and takes the burger from his lap and we eat in silence

"You know, we still haven't come up with any baby names" I say

"Babe we'll name them when they arrive"

"We can't name them when they arrive who do you think we are kylie Jenner?"

He laughs at my comment

"Their names have to have Js though" he says

"No"

"Their names will be different but similar"

"Like?"

"What about Ella and Alex?"

"Or Beatrice And Brandon"

"Beatrice?"

"Yeah"

"That's an old lady's name"

"Madison and Mason"

"No, I'm not really feeling it

"What about Brian and Brianna"

"Ok we'll put that in the idea box, it's not bad"

"Really?"

"Yeah, what about Cara and Carter"

"Hmm, Cara and Carter Bellingham"

"Brian and Brianna Bellingham"

"O I like it"

"I know"

"Ok but on a serious note we need to discuss how we're going to raise these kids Jude"

"What do u mean?"

"Ways of discipline, what if they do something we won't approve of how would we react, what if they come out and they're part of the LGBTQ, what then what?"

"Ok, ways of discipline?"

"Yeah, we need to think about those"

"Simple we'll just beat them"

"I'm not hitting my children"

"Fine, then I'll do it"

"Jude"

"I'm joking, we can take away the things the love, like toys ban them from going to friends, you know all the soft stuff"

"Ok what about the age they can Start dating, and being in relationships?"

"Brian can date when he's 13 but Brianna is dating when she's 28"

"That's insane, we going to treat our kids equally, we can't discriminate because of their genders"

"Fine, both at 13 then" he says rolling his eyes at me

"Did you just roll your eyes at me?" I ask

"yeah why, you wanna pull a Christian Grey on me"

"The fact that you can make that reference"

"Yeah, I can"

"Jude we're supposed to be talking about our Future and the Future of our kids"

"Ok, ok sorry"

"Then the LGBTQ thing"

"We disown them immediately" he says in a dramatic way

"Well it won't make me happy either but I guess we'll live with it, they are our children at the end of the day"

"Yeah"

"And the involvement of our parents in their lives, what boundaries need to be set"

"They need to be present that's for sure, buy them gifts and spoil them rotten, I just want them to make a strong connection and bond"

"Yeah that's for sure"

"What about sleep schedules"

"For us or for them?"

"For us"

"We'll take turns"

"One day it's my turn to stay the night with them, then then the next it's your turn, but if it's the both of them being fussy then we can both be awake, and rotate each twin  by the hour"

"What methods should we use If they don't want to sleep?"

"Music, white noises I heard that's good and relaxation for when you're trying to sleep so we'll use that or classical music it's up to them really

"And their sleep schedules?"

"20:00, that's their bed Time, everything must be done before that"

"And sports , that they'll play"

"You already know the answer to that question, I don't even know why you're asking that"

He laughs and I smile at him

"Social media for them?"

"Well considering who their dad is we need them to use other names, and they must be private accounts"

"At what age?"

"14 is when it can happen"

"So social media and phones at 14?"

"Yeah"

"And a trust fund?"

"Most definitely having that, we never know when things go South"

"Ok"

"And I think we should go for Therapy"

"Why, our marriage is not on the rocks"

"I know but I want us to strengthen our relationship and relate to eachother better, you might have things that I do that you don't like and things you do that I don't like, we were very young when we met, and they say time changes people we aren't the same people we were when we met"

"Fine, we'll go"

"And this will strengthen our marriage as well so it's a plus"

"Ok love, anything that makes you feel comfortable"

"Thank you"

"You know I'm glad we're doing this"

"Yeah same"

"That way if any problem is thrown at us we'll be prepared for it"

"True"

He leans in for a kiss and I do the same, I'm about to attach our lips when I feel something coming up my throat

Puke

I quickly open my eyes and run to the bathroom

"Oh wow if I disgust you so much then why'd you marry me"

"Jude"

"No really answer the question"

"It's the sight of your face, it makes me sick

"Very funny"

"It's not a joke" I say brushing my teeth

"Do you wanna cuddle"

"Yeah"

"C'mon then"

I walk towards him and lay my head on his chest and he plays his hand on my belly

"We've got footballers brewing in there"

"Jude, if they choose that they don't want to be footballers then please don't force them or make them feel bad about it or even force them, I want them to make their own decisions

"Fine, but I will be disappointed though"

"Understandable"

[remarcely]

Based off this Tumblr prompt I made

Bruce's chest slowly rose and fell with each steady breath. He was still in bed, watching the orange glow spread out across the ceiling and down the wall as the day proceeded the dawn. He probably had a few minutes before Alfred came knocking at his door to wake him as he’d done for the last week. He was concerned, though he was yet to voice his worries, and understandably so.

Ever since Bruce had woken up in the past, gasping for breath and clutching his chest, he had spent his days sat on the ground at Jason's grave. He wouldn’t eat unless Alfred brought him food, he wouldn’t speak unless Alfred asked, and he hadn’t even approached the cave, let alone touch the Bat suit.

He’d had the misfortune to be brought back to the aftermath of Jason's death. It had been a couple months after the explosion. Dick was in Bludhaven, making a point not to speak to Bruce under any circumstances, and, while Alfred remained, he was grieving himself. It was all a mess and Bruce couldn’t help but remember his own faults the first time. He’d pushed his only other child away and pushed himself until it took Timothy, a child, to tell him to get his act together. Even then, the damage had lasted long into the future and had created cracks in the very foundation of Bruce’s relationship with his children.

Bruce knew things would change and that Jason would return, but that didn’t make waking up to him gone any easier to bear. He didn’t know when his son would claw his way out of the grave. It wasn’t something an older Jason had cared to speak about, the mention of his death was enough to end all conversations.

With no date to go off from, Bruce stared at the headstone until Alfred came to drag him back inside Manor. Sometimes he talked to the open air, pretending Jason could hear him through the coffin’s walls and tightly packed dirt, other days he remained silent and just waited. It was a morbid kind of peace that he found there, comforted by the whistling wind and gentle breeze. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine Jason sitting there with him.

-

There were forty-two unread messages on Dicks phone. Three were from his coworkers asking for his help on their cases, twelve were from his therapist asking him if he was coming back for another appointment after he’d run out of the last one. There were several from Bruce, almost seven months old which he had no intention of reading- there was nothing that man could say that would be worth Dicks time. Nineteen were shared between Clark and other JLA members, asking if he’d been able to contact Batman for the last week.

The final lone text was from Alfred; short and succinct.

Alfred:

Please come to the Manor, he is getting worse.

As much as Dick resented Bruce, he had been relieved when Alfred alerted him to a change for the better in the man’s state. He’d been terrified that his black suit and dress shoes would see another use that year. To hear that there had been such a sudden downwards turn, when Bruce had been gradually improving, was more than concerning. Though he didn’t want to admit it, Dick was scared. Scared enough to respond to Alfred message and more than scared enough to catch a train back to Gotham the next morning.

“Master Dick,” Alfred smiled at him when he opened the door, ushering the young man inside. He took his coat, taking no arguments from Dick when he’d insisted that he could do it himself, and pulled him into a quick but tight hug “You have no idea how glad I am to see you, dear boy.”

Dick doesn’t say that he’d missed him too, even though he wanted to, and walked with Alfred further into the Manor “Where is he?” He’d returned for Bruce’s benefit, but that didn’t mean he was prepared to talk to the man.

“Ah.” Alfred sighed and wavered in his stride “I am afraid that’s quite the issue I contacted you about.”

“Is he in the cave?”

“No, rather the opposite. He hasn’t worn the suit for over a week now, neither has he reached out to those teammates of his for someone to take on the role.” He wiped at the side of his face in pure exhaustion, looking painfully older in that moment “Every morning, Master Bruce has refused to be anywhere but Master Jason's grave.”

An invisible hand grasped Dicks lungs tight and his breath released in a strangled wheeze. Alfred sent him a pitying glance, patting him on the back to console him.

“I have tried to bring him back inside, Miss Kyle visited yesterday and tried as well, but have had no luck. He leaves shortly after dawn and will only come back inside in the early hours of the next day.”

“What makes you think I’ll be able to do it then?”

“Young Master, I think you underestimate how much a word from you will mean to him.” Alfred looked away, a faraway look in his eyes “I had tried my best with him when he was a child, but he is a stubborn creature. Since you were as small as nine years old, one request from you would break through his worst moods. I know you do not consider him your father, Master Dick, but he does view you as his son.”

Dick sighed “I’ll try Alfie but I can’t promise anything.”

“Very well, Master Dick.” The old man softly smiled and continued to walk to the kitchen “It is almost lunchtime. After you’ve eaten, I’ll give you a wrapped meal to take out to Bruce. He has been uninterested in eating unless I bring the food to him.”

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Tags for people who asked: @jareicanon @yellow-but-depressed @chaoticneutralgood2627 @lostonehero @shinydmoon @justabilingualchileangirl @greenfrogartist @weiyjling @an-android-child @cyrajack7 @pocketwatch56 @demitimelord42 @youllnevertaketheskyfromme @commanderantilles @whatevernamei @ode777 @symmetricalastigmatism @ryzanecrow @realifezompire @real-evil-genius @sanjideservesbetter @firelilyfoxsstuff @tigercrossbow @rubber-ducky-your-the-one @geekonaleash @braveheartinthedark @ark12 @sapphire363 @ambriel-angstwitch @gessec @louzxv @cluelessducky @coffeeshopdragons @s-ourbuns @jesterraconteuse @disco-wyrm @demonhen @thenocturnalreadingotaku @nightlore106 @hesztia16 @rusty-lake-resident @jellyamour @themiraculousec @robertdowneyhiddlesbatch @wolflit10 @sketchiethebear @regle-side2 @mossy-bonez @thatawkwardman @forget-me-ghost @stellarnathy @mintmont @leafsheep @meigalaxy @trampledupon @yeetus-feetus @searchingforthelamps that was so much longer than I expected

[torumin]

"I am the strongest"

Synopsis - Gojo comforting you after you have a nightmare<3

A/N - Fluff cuz I need some happiness in my life huehue :'] Also, requests are open<3

You were no new to nightmares but they were progressively getting worse

They were mostly the same but this time it was more terrifying

You could not save Gojo…. You had one simple job to do, just kill the curse and you weren’t even capable of doing that.

Useless as ever, can’t even save the man you love with every atom in you.

There laid Gojo covered in blood and unconscious.

This couldn’t be right… he is the strongest, he should be fine right? Wrong.

Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, the love of your life, was on the ground, lifeless.

The shine in his eyes was gone, the usual warm smile was now replaced with a dull expression.

No matter how much you tried to wake him up he didn’t, he didn’t even move. He was gone.

That’s when you woke up, breathing heavily, tears streaming down your face.

The first you did was check up on him, you yanked the blanket he was sleeping with and checked for any injuries that you saw in your dream.

The sudden movement woke Satoru up. He was surprised to say the least.

“What the-”

That’s when he saw your state, tears streaming down your pretty face.

“Hey hey hey shhh what happened?” He asks you in a low voice as to not scare you more than you already are.

“S-Satoru I am so-so sorry” you sob “I-I couldn’t even save you”.

He immediately knew that you probably saw a quite gruesome nightmare. He knew how bad they can get sometimes as he himself was bothered by them quite a lot.

He hugged you tightly “Hey it’s alright, I am here. I am not going anywhere.”

You were sobbing hard, he hated seeing you like this. You, his pretty baby so sad and crying. It hurts his heart to see you in this state.

“I want you to take a breathe for me alright sweetheart?” He is still hugging you or should I say you were not letting go off of him as he would disappear.

“It’s alright, look at me, I am amazing as ever.” He says as he plants a soft kiss on you forehead.

His voice was like magic, you can feel all your worries disappear whenever he talks to you in such a soft and loving voice.

“Should I go and get some water for you sweetheart?”

You shake your head “I am coming with you” and just like that now you two are going towards the kitchen with you hanging on to Satoru like koala.

He chuckles at you lightly as he sets you down on the kitchen counter. He goes and gets you a glass of water which you gladly accept.

“Don’t worry about me like that baby, you know I am the strongest right? Nothing can happen to me” He says while flexing his biceps.

“yeah yeah whatever” You tease him.

“Whatever? what do you mean by that you don’t think I am strong? Damn baby you are breaking my heart” He says while acting all dramatic.

You can’t help but laugh at his action.

“You are so cute, you know that?” Satoru says while smiling, looking at you with eyes full of love.

“mhm, but not as cute as you” You say while pinching his cheeks.

He chuckles and picks you up “shall we go back to sleep then?”

“okay” You smile and kiss him softly on his cheek.

You two get back to the bed, you laying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat. You never want him to ever leave you. He is the best thing that has happened to you and you love him with all your heart.

“Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, ‘toru.”

©ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO TORUMIN DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY MY WORKS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION

[thirstnotes]

| Rivals To Lovers - Clark Kent - Part Eleven - Intermission|

Pairings: Clark Kent x AFABBlackCurvyReader

Warnings: abduction, Red Hood, mild confusion, language, minors DNI

Sorry this took so long, sweeties. It's been a long few months. I'm exhausted, but I promise I haven't abandoned this!

If you don't like it, don't read it.

If waking up on silk sheets in a dark—albeit luxurious—unknown location is one of your worse fears

Trigger Warning

Because that's what was happening right now

Your head was heavy and groggy as you looked around at your settings. The pleasant scent of something familiar that you couldn’t place further lulled you from your stupor and you sat up slowly, the silky slink of fabric following you. As you slipped your legs over the edge of the bed, you realized it wasn’t silk sheets at all. You reached for a lamp in the corner and turned it on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror. You were wearing an evening gown.

Black and sexy

Sleek and curve complementing

Had you not have been terrified out of your mind, you’d have adored it.

Your hair was up in a curly bun, a few loose curls tickling your skin. The small sparkle of a diamond necklace caught your attention, and you marveled at the simple elegance of the design. You were done up perfectly. Like a princess. Someone had gone through a lot of trouble to doll you up.

How long had you been out?

Your eyes scanned the vanity in front of you, it's surface lined with high end perfumes and makeups. Something like what you'd see on Pinterest or a tv show depicting the life of an heiress. The familiar smell you were catching was Chanel No. 5 lightly spritzed on you.

What the fuck?

The soft sound of piano music started and you looked to the door on the other side of the room. Approaching the door slowly, you reached to take the knob, ignoring the way it tremored. There was no time to freak out now. You were a journalist with nerves of steel. Keep it together.

You quietly pushed the door open a crack, looking into the fully lit room, seeing nothing out of place. In fact it was immaculate. It was unnerving.

You looked around the edge of the frame for any alarms or triggers, unsure of what might've awaited you. But nothing happened as you eased the door open. The room was gorgeous, easily rivaling one of Bruce's fancy penthouses. Plush carpet, crystal chandeliers, and a beautiful grand piano, behind which was the same masked man that you saw before you blacked out. Your blood ran cold.

He seemed to be aware of your presence the entire time, his mask turned in your direction as he played. You decided not to look like a deer in the headlights and walked towards the piano awkwardly, hearing the end of his song approaching.

"No wonder he's so distracted," he said, as he finished with a pluck of the last key. You waited for him to finish his thought, wondering who "he" was. "You're a knockout."

He stood and you took a step back. He paused, deciding to round the other side of the piano instead.

"Who are you, and where the fuck am I?" you demanded, a bit of edge to your voice to remind him that you weren't trying to exchange pleasantries. As laid back as he seemed, you were certain just walking away wasn't an option.

"Straight to the point, I see. Another selling point for sure," he said, the crimson of his mask unnerving you further. You shuddered to think what he had in store for you. Or even why he targeted you.

You were a journalist, sure, that had written plenty of articles on the criminals of your city, but you didn't remember any of them looking like him.

Perhaps he was from Gotham?

A sudden memory was triggered the moment you thought about Gotham and how it was often said that the philanthropist had a target painted on his back. Maybe that was why Clark was bothered by you hanging around him so much. Not because he himself was dangerous, but because of his social standing.

A fact that had become all too real in your current predicament.

"You mean Bruce," you said, not necessarily asking for conformation. You received a chuckle in return.

"Perceptive too. Even sexier."

So it was.

"Look. I don't know what business you have with him, but-"

"My business is his business. I don't have any qualms with Wayne. Quite the opposite," he said, sitting down, opening a magazine. You watched him, your brow furrowing.

He looked up at you, his eyes sweeping your form. "They call me Red Hood, and I'm here to help Bruce make up his mind."

"Make up his mind? About me, you mean? There's nothing to make up. We're not together."

He sat forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Ah! Therein lies the issue. You see, Bruce has been driven to distraction lately over you and I wanna know why that is. Selina Kyle never had this deep of a hold on him and he's been chasing her for years."

Selina Kyle? Who was that?

"Why not just ask him?" you inquired, keeping an eye on him, every now and again glancing around for any sign of an out. He tracked your movements carefully, his mask following you with every movement.

"Oh I have been, and I plan to ask one final time tonight."

"So I'm bait," you asked, walking towards the fireplace, observing the portraits on it. Thomas and Martha Wayne. The family butler. Bruce. But on picture caught your eye that made you nearly drop the photo you'd picked up. It was a candid polaroid of Bruce...taking off his mask.

Bruce Wayne was the Dark Knight himself.

Of fuckin course he was.

"No, you're the reason," he said, standing again and folding his arms, watching your realization. You set it back down, looking at him.

"So...Bruce is...a personal friend of yours I take it," you said, subtly hiding your surprise.

Calling him Batman felt entirely too cliché

Especially while you were being held hostage by one of his so-called sidekicks

Now it was making total sense why Clark didn't want you around him

Not only was he a colleague, he really was dangerous

"Very personal. Like an older brother, if you will, and unfortunately, now that you're his main squeeze, you're in it up to here," he said, passing you with his hand above his head to indicate the deep level of shit you were in. He stopped at the fireplace, pulling a phone from his pocket.

"That Sherlock shit's really impressive, you know that?"

"What do you think you're doing, Jason?" Bruce asked with an exasperated breath.

"Putting all the pieces in place," Jason said, looking over his shoulder at you. He was armored, so a vase to the head seemed like a way to piss him off. So you just listened to his conversation with whom you could only assume was Bruce.

"It makes things a bit more complicated than you know. Especially if he finds out you've done this."

"I'm counting on it. He's our other guest of honor, after all," he smirked, hanging up. He seemed very satisfied with himself, plopping back down on the sofa. You gave him a steely calm leer.

"He's gonna kill you when he finds out."

"Nah, I don't think Golden Boy's got it in 'im," he said matter of factly. You didn't doubt he would, but there was something in his tone that made you uneasy. He knew something.

(Part 10)

[lovebugism]

hm maybe for blurb you mentioned, some nervous reader about a storm/ reader being shy about having storm insecurities w/Steve?? it’s storming pretty bad where I am so that’s what made me think of it lol

hi, lovely! i also have a pretty bad fear of storms so this is a very self-indulgent fic hahah tw for mentions of parental abuse, not heavily described — the one where steve protects you from a big, bad storm (hurt/comfort, 1.7k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

You’ve always been scared of storms. Maybe thunder most of all.

Thunder was loud, and it shook the walls whenever there was enough force behind it. Sort of like the voices of your parents when they were upset — which they were pretty often. At you, most of the time. 

You hear a crash! rumble in a black sky, and it makes you feel like a child again. You usually did whenever you were frightened. And being a child again was more terrifying than any storm.

Steve knows you hate when the weather gets bad. 

Not because you’ve ever told him as much, but because you shake whenever it rains too hard, trembling like a leaf on one of the trees outside. You tense when it thunders, squeeze your eyes shut when it lightnings.

He doesn’t know how much it really terrifies you — he can’t because you don’t let him see it — but he knows the fear is there.

It’s why it hurts him so bad to leave you when the sky grows dark. 

Gray clouds hang heavy, and the smell of rain swirls in the whipping wind. The wet, earthy scent is so potent that it seeps in through your closed window. Thunder rolls softly in the distance — the promise of a soon storm. 

Steve doesn’t want to leave, but he knows he has to. He opens at Family Video tomorrow morning, and he doesn’t have any clothes at your place. You live pretty far away from town, too. He’d have to wake up before sunrise to swing by his house to get ready. 

You know this. So for his sake and yours, you pretend you’re not as scared as you really feel.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Steve presses.

He stands just over you, right beside the bed you’re curled up on. He shoves his feet into his already-tied sneakers and looks for any reason not to leave. He peers down at you with glittering honey eyes that swim with concern, bushy brows pinched in a puppy-like worry. 

You muster a wavering smile up at him, half of your face shoved into your pillow. “I’m okay, Stevie. I know you need to go.”

“But I can stay if you—”

“I’m fine,” you assure in a dramatic drawl. “You should go before it gets bad, okay? I don’t want you driving in the rain.”

You meant it. The last bit mostly, though maybe not the first one as much.

You’re just scared of being a burden. It was your fear that made you a bad daughter. You don’t want Steve to hate you the same way your parents did. 

“Okay...” Steve concedes, though his distantly perturbed look only slightly ebbs. “I’ll call you when I get home, yeah? I’ll stay on the phone with you all night. Won’t even make fun of you for snoring, either.”

He says it just to make you smile.

You do, but just barely.

“Okay,” you hum quietly, almost inaudibly, in response.

Steve bends at the waist to press a kiss to your mouth. He rests a wide palm on your arm as you lift your head from the pillow to meet him halfway. Your lips lock with his pink ones in a chaste kiss goodbye. 

Thunder rumbles overhead — a loud clap that shakes the walls of your bedroom.

Steve knew it was coming. He saw the lightning streak purple in the sky just before he kissed you, so it doesn’t scare him as much as it does you. He feels you jolt against his mouth when you tense at the sudden boom. It feels like he’s holding a rock in his hand.

He pulls away from you a few inches, gazing upon your scrunched face and squeezed-shut eyes with his own look of distant horror. His honey-colored stare floods with concern all over again.

His hand on your arm clutches you more intently, a warm reminder that he’s there — much closer than the wretched thunder.

“You okay, babe?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you promise though the words sound stiff in your mouth. You haven’t relaxed yet. Or opened your eyes. You’re scared of what you’ll see when you do — Steve’s worried face or your mother’s angry one.

“Are you sure?” he presses like he always does. 

He knows many of your responses are automated, like you’ve been coded to shrug him off along with all the fears you keep hidden. It takes a bit of prying for you to be honest sometimes. You can’t open up unless you’re really sure he wants you to.

“Yeah,” you nod, then huff. The sigh tumbles from your mouth in a trembling exhale — distant laughter mixed with distant terror. “That was just… That was really loud.”

“Yeah. It was, huh?”

“I’m good, okay? I’m sorry, I—” You cut yourself off when you open your eyes, finding Steve toeing off the sneakers he only just shoved on. Your brows furrow as your gaze flits up to his. “What are you doing?”

The boy clicks his mouth against his teeth. His sock-clad feet melt into your carpeted floor. “I think I’m gonna stay, actually. As long as you don’t wanna kick me out, that is—”

“No, don’t,” you whine. Not because you don’t want him to stay (because, truth be told, you were praying that he would), but you don’t want him to feel like he has to. “It’s just gonna make you late to work tomorrow.”

Steve shrugs. “Screw work. I don’t care.”

“No, Steve!” you protest. You scooch over to make room for him on your bed, anyway. His larger frame takes up the majority of your mattress. You curl into him despite your fussing. Your legs entwine with his fuzzier ones, your cold feet knocking with his sock-clad toes. You melt into him while you complain, “You can go, okay? I’m fine! Really!”

“Too late,” he dissents as he bounces his shoulder, slightly jostling your cheek resting there. “I’m already comfortable.”

You sigh and tuck your face into his chest. His musky cologne clings desperately to his cotton t-shirt — vanilla and rose and sandalwood. Your left-hand curls into the fabric as you clutch onto him. 

“I just don’t wanna you to think I’m a baby or something,” you confess and rub your burning cheek against his clothed chest. “You don’t have to stay—”

“Stop,” Steve coos. His chest rumbles with the softly spoken word as his fingers rise to your hair. The tips of them massage gently at your scalp. “It’s okay, babe. I promise. I don’t think you’re a baby for being scared of storms, okay?”

“You don’t?” you murmur with a soft pout scrunching your features.

“No way,” he scoffs, the answer obvious to him. “I mean, it’s actually a pretty normal thing to be scared about, babe.”

Your heart stops for a moment — just a blink of a second that makes you feel like you can’t breathe. Your fears have never been validated before now. You were never taken seriously, only punished. They called you weak for letting something so insignificant have so much control over you. 

It made it almost impossible for you to take yourself and your problems seriously. You eventually ended up punishing yourself for them — just like your parents did. All those words they spat at you turned into thoughts that lingered like dark shadows in the back of your head. 

Steve’s turning all that into sunlight, and he doesn’t even know it.

Your chin brushes against the fabric of his shirt when you turn to look at him. You’ve got a slight furrow to your brows that he meets with a lopsided smile. The boy sits propped up against your pillows, his hair wild and his eyes soft.

“You think so?” you murmur.

“Oh. Totally,” he snorts in a laugh. He tilts his head to his shoulder as his brows shoot up. “I mean, it’s more normal than having a deathly fear of quicksand.”

Your brows pinch further. The frown between them deepens when your face contorts in confusion. “Are you implying you’re scared of quicksand?” you mutter with a curious inflection.

His eyes widen at your lack of understanding. “Babe. There is nothing more terrifying than drowning in the ground, okay? And, like, once you’re in it, there’s no getting out! You’re totally stuck!”

You purse your lips to hide the wide smile threatening to take over. Your giggle gets trapped in your throat.

Steve keeps on rambling — one hand cradling the back of your head as the other flails wildly in explanation. “Sometimes, I’ll have these nightmares where I’m, like, getting home from work or something, and I step out of my car, and I’m like, ‘who the hell replaced my driveway with quicksand?’”

Your previously concealed laugh sputters from your mouth like rays of sunshine.

“Don’t laugh!” Steve chuckles, feigning offense, though his soft touch on you never wavers. “I’m being serious!”

“I know you are,” you hum affectionately. “That’s why it’s so funny.”

“Rude,” he grouses with a playful pout. The corners of his pretty pink lips turn downwards, and his bushy brows pinch softly together. Despite his dreadfully sculpted features, he’s still so soft — like a puppy or melted ice cream. You can’t help but take awe in him.

You rise from where you lay against his chest, shifting against your mattress until your face is level with his. The two of you share a single pillow despite its impracticality — noses inches apart, breaths entwining, eyes crossing at the proximity.

You keep one hand beneath your head as your other rises to his face. The scruff of his jaw tickles your fingers as your thumb brushes the warm apple of his cheek. His honeyed gaze dances between both of yours, sparkling with an adoration you don’t feel deserving of. 

“I’m sorry,” you concede with pretty eyes and a gentle smile. “I promise to protect you from any quicksand we happen to stumble upon.”

“And I promise to protect you from all the storms,” he swears with a similar softness that makes you melt.

His eyes turn golden when he smiles at you — the exact color of sunshine. You bask in the flaxen rays, safe and warm. You forget to be scared of the rain.

[weskipooo]

MICHAEL MYERS X FEM! READER

Grammer checker @shotoyami

I hid, Frank and I being the only ones alive, crouching behind a rock. Beads of sweat roll down my face as I give a panicked glance toward Frank. He speaks up with a deep frown, “Hey, honey, it’s okay. Relax. Breathe with me, okay?” I nodded, slowing my breathing as we crept out from our safe spot. “Let’s go find another gen.” We both snuck around, the weight on our feet heavy with fear- mostly from me. Eventually, we started doing the gen frantically. My hands fumbled with the wires, trying to start it, banging my hand on the gen. “We’ve got this! We’ll be out here in no time.” I grin weakly, my anxiety through the roof. I glance around the fog while I work, relaxing after a while of stillness. I then glance back toward Frank, who notices my gaze and speaks up, “You’re doing great, honey.” 

Before he could reassure me further, he was yanked from behind- the unexpected action ripping him from the gen. My scream gets caught in my throat, freezing as I witness this sudden disturbance- “Run! (Y/n) run!” Before he could say more, he was stabbed in the stomach. Watching the life in his eyes fade, I fell back. 6ft tall. His eyes look down upon me with a sharp, unforgiving look. He appeared ready to catch his prey, his eyes showing no emotion. “Michael Myers…” my shaken voice breathes out, his head slowly tilted to the side. Before he could do anything, I shot up and ran as fast as my body could carry me, tears beginning to well in my eyes. Frank was killed. I know I’ll see everyone after the challenge, but it’s still terrifying to see his body- and to see it get tossed aside like nothing. 

My feet and lungs burn as I fly forward. Something brings me to glance behind me, seeing Michael with his hand raised and ready to strike. I turn a corner and wait for him to follow before slamming the pallet between us down, which earns me an irritated growl. I turn to run away but am halted by Michael, standing tall and breathing with his full chest. His eyes bore into mine before he swung his knife at me, barely missing the mark. I let out a sound of sheer terror and attempted to run again, but freeze as I felt something go into my leg. When I look to see what caused the sudden sharp onslaught of pain, I find Michael’s knife lodged into my thigh. “Fuck!” I curse, my eyes go wide as Michael crouched down. He had to jump to get it into my leg- why was he so desperate to stop me?! He jumped!? I gripped my leg, hissing in pain, “Get away from me!” I used my other leg to kick him square in the face, which causes him to lose grip of his knife. I took the opportunity to use my strength to pull the knife out, grunting in pain as I throw the knife in a random direction and begin speed limping. 

“Shit! Get me out- where is the hatch?!” I scream to myself. As though some unforeseen source had heard my desperate cry, the hatch comes into sight before me. “Yes- please, freedom!” I was yanked back by my shirt, my hope lost, fear swelling in my heart. He hoists me up, holding me tight, his hands around my waist, his breath against my ear. I felt him smirk. ‘Why is he smirking?’ My body shakes out of fear as Michael shifts his grasp on me, holding up the very same knife that he’s previously stabbed my leg with; it moves in front of my stomach, his body against my back–all I felt was a breath of wind go against my ear. “Please Michael- let me go! Please, I’m begging you,” I kicked and screamed, my eyes filled with tears–this part always hurts no matter what, even if I’m not actually dying, I still feel the pain. The knife plunges into my stomach, despite my desperate fighting against the action, and I feel my soul leave my body as hot blood comes out from my deep wound. With a gasp, I wake up back at camp, my teammates surrounding me with worried eyes. “You’re okay, (y/n)…” I sighed in relief. Finally, it’s over for the day.

[silentglassbreak]

Anonymous

Noah Sebastian x OFC

+It goes without saying. This is a work of fiction. My words are mine. Plagiarism is a crime.

Taglist: @flowery-mess @lma1986 @myownthoughts12 @poisongirl616 @missduffsblog @reidsblessing

Epilogue

All I wanted, so desperately, was to keep napping. The temperature in the room was perfect, the blankets were soft, Angel was lightly snoring behind me, creating the perfect white noise. It was one of the rarest occasions that I was actually comfortable enough to sleep.

That is, until the loud voices drifted up the staircase.

“It doesn’t need to be this complicated Noah!”

“Yes, Laura, I agree!”

“She said she wanted a neutral color, nothing feminine.”

“How is pastel green not neutral!?”

“It’s pastel!”

“Jesus, fuck, dude! It’s better than fucking grey!”

“Grey is the actual definition of neutral! With green accents, it’s the perfect color palette! You should know, you named a song after it!

“Oh my fucking God, it’s ugly!”

“I really liked the forest green, myself.”

“Stay out of this, Nick!”

And that was it. I was now trying my damndest to sit up, my legs sliding off the side of the bed. I stood up, my large belly weighing heavy on my spine, and stomped down the hall, to the staircase.

Holding the railing, I trotted down the stairs, rage filling my eyes. Those bastards were keeping me from my much-needed nap.

I walked into the kitchen, the dining room table scattered with paint swatch cards. Noah stood on one end, leaning with his knuckles down on the table. Laura stood on the other, hip jutting out, hands in the air.

“Dude, the baby is due in less than two weeks! Just listen to me on this!” Laura was holding up a swatch of several shades of grey.

“No! My daughter is not getting a prison-colored room!”

“It will have accents!”

“Enough!” My voice rang throughout the room, making them both whip their heads over to look at me.

Nick was sat helplessly at the table between them, looking absolutely terrified to see me. I didn’t blame him, I was one cranky pregnant bitch.

“Babe! I’m so fucking sorry, did we wake you?” Noah was walking over to me, but I held a hand up to him. He stopped dead in his tracks, having learned over the last eight and a half months not to test me.

I stepped slowly to the table, all three sets of eyes watching me.

I approached the cards, scanning the wide array of colors. After a quick survey, I held my hand out for the card in Nick’s hand; three shades of forest green. He handed it to me obediently.

I snatched the sharpie off of the table, and scratched a small checkmark on the middle shade, labeled ‘Pine’, and slapped both down on the table.

“Now, I am going back upstairs to try and salvage what is left of my nap.” My teeth were grit together tightly. “I had better not hear either of you bitching down here, or so help me I will make you understand the miracle of childbirth personally!” I pointed back and forth between both of them. Laura and Noah looked absolutely horrified.

“Am I clear?”

They both just nodded silently, and I turned around, making my way back toward the stairs.

“I told you grey was a bad idea.” I could hear Noah bragging.

“Yeah? Well so was pastel, so shut the fuck up.”

“I’ll go get the paint. We should only need like 2 gallons, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll ride with you.”

I heard the boys headed for the front door, as I was already walking up the staircase.

Once I landed on the top step, putting my weight onto my foot before stepping into the upstairs hallway, a sudden, warm, gushing liquid came flooding out of me, running through my underwear and down my legs.

I stopped, looking down to see the clear liquid pouring out, and I nearly toppled over at the sight.

“Noah!”

I heard his footsteps running on the wood, and he appeared at the staircase in a flash, booking up to me.

“What happened?” He grabbed my hand that wasn’t secured to the railing. He looked down, seeing what I was seeing. “Is that…?”

“My water is broken.”

He looked into my eyes, sheer terror and panic filling his.

“Oh fuck…”

-

Surreal is the only way to describe seeing my daughter. The feeling is indescribable, laying eyes on your own child for the first time. Noah stood next to the bed, staring at the tiny bundle, which looked comically tiny in his giant arms. Tears rolled freely down his face, his smile big enough to light up an entire major metropolitan area. His voice was so soft when he spoke to her, it was almost hard to hear.

"Hi there. It's so good to finally meet you." Her little sounds were making him bounce her gently. "Yeah, I know. Rough day."

I chuckled, laying my head back on the pillow.

"We're so happy you're here, baby girl. Your Mom and I have been waiting a long time to meet you." He ran one of his long fingers down her pink, perfect face. "You're getting anything you'll ever want, you just ask Daddy."

"Hey now, let's not start spoiling her before she even gets old enough to ask for stuff."

"Mm, too bad." He didn't look at me, he just stroked the soft black hairs below the beanie on her head.

Noah handed her back to me gently, and I eagerly took her in my arms. She made a soft cooing noise before her face began contorting into a cry.

"Oh, it's okay. I've got you." I bounced her in my arms lightly.

"She's probably hungry, Mama." The nurse was pulling a blood pressure cuff off of me. "We're about to move you to your new room. Want to let Dad hold her for a second while I get you into a wheelchair?"

I nodded, regrettably handing her back to Noah. The nurse pulled my blankets off, and helped me sit up on the edge of the bed.

"Think you can stand?"

I nodded, attempting to put weight on my shaky legs. The lack of drugs had my abdomen throbbing, and I gripped the nurse's arms for support. She helped lower me into the wheelchair, replacing a blanket over my lap.

Noah pushed my wheelchair down the hallway while the nurse led us with the bassinet. Once in the room, I was once again helped into bed, this time with Noah's assistance. I winced when I leaned back, feeling the exhaustion of the trauma my body had just gone through.

"Okay, do either of you need anything?" We both looked at her, Noah now holding the baby again, and shook our heads. "Okay, I'll let you guys have some time. Dad, that chair behind you folds out into a bed and there are blankets in the cupboard."

She turned her attention back to me. "I'll be back in about an hour to do a quick exam, and do the baby's first bath."

She left the room, a calm silence falling over us. Only moments later, small cries began coming from the blanket in his arms.

"Okay, I think it's time to eat." He walked over to me, lowering her into my arms.

I popped open the front of my gown, frowning at Noah. "I haven't started making milk yet."

"Remember they said that in the beginning she eats very little? And if we need help to call them? We got this."

Her face nuzzled into my chest, mouth open. I led her to my breast, her mouth latching like a suction cup. The sensation startled me.

"Woah! She definitely knows what to do."

Noah smiled proudly. "She's a smart girl, gets it from her Daddy."

I scowled at him, a smirk on my face. I looked back down at the baby, watching her eyes close slowly.

"For someone whose been relaxing in my belly for thirty-eight weeks, she sure is sleepy."

Noah was looking at the chair now, attempting to transform it into the bed he was promised.

"Well, she had a big day. I mean, how often do you get evicted from a nice warm house, and everyone's grabbing you and looking at you? She's exhausted."

My head leaned back, feeling the weight of the day pressing on me. The clock on the wall read 2:30AM.

"I get that."

Finally getting the 'bed' put together, Noah sat down heavily and sighed hard. "How you feeling, love?"

I shrugged. "As good as I can. Really sore." He nodded. "Really gross too. Like, I would kill for a shower."

"Well, the nurse said earlier that you can shower four hours after. That's at about 3:15." He laid back on the bed, looking over at me. "I brought swim trunks so I can get in with you, and help you."

The look on his face was painted with a mix of fatigue, wonder, and love. He looked happy, regardless of the lack of sleep.

I felt the baby's mouth pull off of me, and I looked down to see her eyes closed and mouth open slightly. I pulled the blanket a little tighter around her, and shifted my gown to cover my chest.

"She's asleep?" I looked at Noah, smiling. "Yeah, nice and cozy."

"You want me to take her?"

I shook my head. "I can't stop looking at her."

"You think she looks like me?"

I peered down at my daughter, scanning her features. "It's a little early to tell, but I think she has your eyes."

He flashed his teeth in response.

The door opened, and the nurse stepped in, glancing at us.

"Hey guys, I've got to take a look at Mileena, and then I'll take the little lady for her bath."

Noah got up, coming over to take the baby from me. His eyes were locked on her face, which made me more comfortable when the nurse pulled open the blanket and checked to see if I was still bleeding.

"Alright Mama, you look good. You should be okay to shower here in a bit." She looked at Noah, snapping her gloves off. "Okay Dad, let's get the baby laid in the carrier."

"Can I go with her?" Noah's eyes showed concern. The thought of her not being in our line of sight must've scared him as much as it did me.

"Of course. Just follow me, we're going down the hall."

Noah set the baby down and walked back over to me to leave a soft kiss on my lips. "I'll be right back, babe. You going to be okay?"

I slumped down into my bed and nodded.

"Oh, I needed to ask, do we have a name yet? We need something to put on the bassinet card."

Noah and I looked to each other.

"Like we discussed?" I asked him.

"I think so. That fits her."

I smiled at the nurse, who was holding a pen to the chart in front of her.

"Addison."

She raised an eyebrow. "Full name?"

Noah answered for me.

"Addison Jane Sebastian."

[trippygalaxy]

Hi there, I'm the anon that requested in the past of sleepwalker reader, and if your okay with it. Can I request ravio x sleepwalker reader?

YES SIRRRRR!! Sorry it took me so long to get to this! Writer's block is a BITCH

EDIT:....this has been in my drafts for over 5 months...I am so sorry.

Paring: Ravio x gn!reader Warnings: Ravio schemeing, swearing,

Ravio

This man is so utterly fascinated but WHOLE HEARTEDLY TERRIFED at the same time (he did wake you up during one of your walks because of his terrified screech, tried to tell you it was the birds, it was the middle of the night)

Not only has he never met anyone with such a trait but he also never even heard about it before coming to Hyrule! So you can only IMAGINE his shock and terror when he saw you basically stalking around your shared home like a zombie

He deadass thought you got possessed by SOMETHING or that you touched one of the cursed items he owns. Either way, my manz had his bone's rattling in fear even when you woke up from his sudden yelps.

it also DID NOT help that you happened to just-- babbled whilst walking. Like on multiple occasions he had found you scolding the Tupperware for eating the legumes. Ravio had no fucking IDEA what a legume was and he doubt you did either.

But after the first encounter he had with sleepwalking you, he DEFIENTALLY had questions for you!!!

Like, when did you start doing this? Is it contagious? are you hurt like...mentally? why are you so worried about legumes? WHAT THE FUCK IS A LEGUME ACTUALLy?

While you are answering his questions, the man's mind began to slowly wander as sneaky little schemes begin to formulate in his head. You didn't have to ask him what he was thinking about as you could practically SEE the ruppees shining in his eyes.

Thats how you ended up being...an 'oracle of the night', whos magic only came out when your mind was in the realm of dreams and your soul had the ability to speak all that is true!

aka Ravio, your dearest love, was selling your nighttime babbling as a way to see into a customers future!

.....Yeahhhhh, that didn't last long before a certain hero gave your lover a very stern talking to, even going so far to say he was taking advantage of you! (he totally wasn't-- he gave you his puppy eyes and you agreed to his little scheme :3)

[svenituse]

are you happy?

something i jotted down earlier on twitter because i had sudden thoughts about cale thinking choi han was a compelling and relatable character when reading tboah, and then cale fell a little bit in love before they even met

Roksu doesn't know why he borrowed so many books.  Maybe he wanted something to occupy his mind, and the many volumes of The Birth of a Hero would suffice as a distraction.  So he starts to read. 

He reads slowly, even though he could read much faster if he tried.  But it's nice to take things slowly when it's not related to work.  And so Roksu slowly reads about Choi Han, the hero of this multi-volume series—a young teenager suddenly thrown into a terrifying world. 

Roksu thinks of how his own world suddenly fell into chaos years ago when the monsters first appeared in Korea.  He feels sorry for Choi Han who had to struggle to survive.  Admires him too, for not giving up even though he was alone for so, so long in the Dark Forest.

Roksu feels happiness when Choi Han finds family in Harris Village; then Roksu feels despair when Choi Han loses that family all too soon.  Roksu deeply understands this type of unfair loneliness, this grief that never really goes away, and finds himself beginning to wonder:

How does Choi Han live after this? 

It's something Roksu wants to know after years of living alone.  He wants to know if someone else could find happiness after losing everything.  

So Roksu keeps reading slowly.  He reads about Choi Han's anger and sadness and growing darkness.  The future hero is no longer cheerful or gentle—not after everything he has gone through, not after everything he has done himself.  But he still treats others well and finds more companions as the story goes on.  

Roksu thinks Choi Han is a good person.  Good, and achingly kind.

Despite the author's propensity for excessive detail and plot deviations, Roksu can't stop reading book after book of The Birth of a Hero.  He wants (needs) to know how Choi Han's story ends.

When Roksu drifts to sleep, he thinks: I hope Choi Han finds happiness again.

When Roksu wakes up, he becomes someone else: Cale Henituse, a drunken lout that said some very cruel things to Choi Han in Volume 1, and deservedly got hit for talking shit. 

This is bad. Roksu (er, Cale) would prefer not to get beaten up by a novel character that he likes.

Clearly, Cale must become reasonably inoffensive so he can have a slacker life, and also not traumatize poor Choi Han.  Cale appears too late to save Choi Han's family in Harris Village, but he is determined to help the hero have an easier life in this version of the story.  He introduces Choi Han to allies sooner and is pleased to see the hero make friends.  

Cale isn't sure why there's much less… brooding… than initially expected, but he has no complaints about the positive change.  If he keeps helping Choi Han, maybe things will turn out better.

(One thing leads to another… and another… and another…) 

Years later, Cale is shocked to remember that his initial plan was to chase Choi Han away from him and then slack off without being injured.  Cale wonders how the fuck he got here.  His slacker life…!  Where has it gone…?

Well, at least one of Cale's wishes came true.  "Choi Han," he says, feeling foolish but wanting to confirm something, "are you… happy?" 

Choi Han blinks before smiling brightly.  "Of course, Cale-nim!" 

"That's good."  Cale looks away, embarrassed.  "I am too."

[mymelodymia]

"Powers?" Dad!tony stark x daughter!reader

*this is set back in 2012, after the battle of NY, reader is 12 here*

Summary: you are exposed to an alien liquid, causing in you getting powers.

Warnings: infection, alien stuff,

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

you were looking for your dad when you wandered into the lab in search for him, you saw Bruce studying some blue alien liquid when you asked him where your father was.

"Hey bruce, you know where my dad is?"

"No, i haven't seen him at all today"

"Mm" with that, you gave up, figuring he was going to come into the lab at some point. You started to try to repair you dads suit.

"Ow!" You winced in pain having cut yourself on accident,

Bruce was adding something to the liquid when he asked you to back up slightly, not wanting to accidentally hurt you, he put 4 drops in the liquid and it immediately started foaming violently, bruce tried covering the liquid with the lid to the container, he successfully got the lid on, till it burst.

It covered the table you and bruce were working on, including your Injury, bruce was completely protected from any harm from the liquid, you on the other hand were not, you were wearing a big t-shirt and sweats.

It started burning immediately, and bruce noticed this and panicked, trying to get it off of you. Given the fact that it was practically deadly. But it had already entered your blood stream, you soon felt light headed and passed out, bruce catching you,

"Jarvis get tony!" Bruce yelled out heading to the medbay, "on it sir"

+•°+*°•+

Tony was laying on the couch resting and watching TV when jarvis notified him

"mr stark dr banner has told me to tell you to head into the medbey immediately"

"Why?"

"Y/N has been exposed to a harmful substance and is currently unconscious" with that tony ran to the medbey as fast as he could. Upon seeing bruce hooking you up to wires broke his heart into a million pieces.

"What happened, is she okay?"

"I think, for now."

"What happened?" Tony asked a second time, growing impatient

"Y/N came into the lab and started repairing your suit and the substance exploded and it got in through a cut on her arm," bruce explained to tony with a serious tone.

Tony sat down next to you, feeling himself overwhelming, eyes downcast overthinking everything.

'She's gonna die'

'What am i gonna do'

'What if she doesn't wake up'

His racing thoughts were Interrupted by bruce, "calm down tony she's gonna be fine"

"Oh god, what am i gonna do" tony muttered to himself, scared was an understatement, terrified? You were his everything, his whole world, losing you would be like losing a part of himself. Now the only thing he could do was wait.

+•°+*°•+

It had been 3 days before Your eyelids fluttered before opening them fully, you looked around yourself, turning your head to the left you saw your father walking in with a cup of coffee, he looked as if he had just woken up, upon making eye contact with you, he immediately set down his drink on a small table to his right, jogging over to you, he gripped both of your shoulders,

"Hey baby, you feeling ok?" Tony asked with uncertainty

"Yeah, what happened?" That's when tony explained the same thing bruce said to him, that you were exposed to the liquid bruce was studying through the cut on your arm,

then bruce walked in, also looking like he just woke up, "shes awake?"

"Wait what do you mean shes awake" you asked growing confused,

"I thought i just blacked out"

"You've been out for 3 days hun" he dropped this information so casually that it made you become more confused then before

"Wha- ah, Huh!?"

Bruce and tony both chuckled at your sudden confusion, tony took you in his arms and kissed your forehead gently, bruce came forward to come and draw blood from the arm that got hit, It looked like you had a small infection but that was the least of yalls concerns.

A/N: I will make a part 2 soon, I just didn't want a super long fic, you know? <333

[sassycheesecake]

It was the middle of the night when you hear lots of tapping noises while you are sleeping in your apartment.

It sounds like multiple taps all at once, almost like little pebbles hitting your glass window.

Groaning, you turn to the other side in your bed, away from the noise that keeps coming from your window.

All of sudden, the noises stopped and you sighed in relief, happy to go back to sleep.

But then, when you were mere seconds away to falling into your dream of a zombie apocalypse, the noise of something hitting your window came back, a lot louder this time.

Apparently, whatever flew against your window broke the glass and now a big rock of the size of a rat lays on your floor.

When the sound of broken glass finally wakes you up with a startled gasp, you run to see what could have caused this.

A stalker? A murderer? A kidnapper? A shooter?

As soon as you look outside, you see a tall figure standing on the ground, all dressed in black.

You’re about to run to grab your phone from its charging station to call the cops, but when the big figure pushed down the hoodie from his head, you see spiky salt-and-pepper colored hair, with a big smile and golden, illuminating eyes.

Your heart does a few exciting jumps, easily being able recognize that hair from miles away.

But then you remember that the cute asshole just busted your window.

Opening it, you see Bokuto coming closer to you, if he had a tail, he‘d be wagging it wildly.

"Bo! You busted my window!" You hissed at him.

"I am sorry, love! But you weren’t answering your phone or my window call so I had to use something bigger! I just missed you so much." He looks sheepishly back at you, as he kicks one of his shoes into the dirt.

You sigh, his cuteness never fails to make you swoon for him.

You don’t get to see your boyfriend often due to his busy job, recently promoted to a wakagashira, the first lieutenant of Shūgo Meian, family boss of the Black Jackals of Tokyo.

"Can I come in and see you? I haven’t seen you in weeks! Boss had me running his errands forever." He pouts and gets even closer to the window. The only thing that separates you from him, is being on the second floor.

Now, Bokuto could be a normal person and just use the front door like a normal person, but Bokuto is not a normal person.

No.

That 6' 2.9" pure muscle of a man takes a few steps back and you know what that means.

Bokuto starts running towards your window and jumps to climb up the pipes on the side of your apartment.

The first time he did that, you screamed in fear, terrified he would fall and die.

With the many times he has done that, it’s a piece of cake for Bokuto now.

You see his tattooed hands on your window sill, pushing himself up with a small grunt, yet it looks like he didn’t break a sweat.

When he slides over your window frame, and stands up to his full height, you almost tear up in happiness.

Like magnets, the two of you almost run into each other, engulfing yourselves in a tight hug.

Bokuto is nuzzling his face into your neck, inhaling your familiar strawberry shampoo, while his strong arms wrap around your waist.

Standing up on your toes, you have your arms wrapped his neck, almost tearing up because you missed your muscular teddy bear so much.

Even if he occasionally has to kill people, easily snap someone‘s neck with his bare hands, he still has the softest heart around you.

Like sending you flowers almost every day, hiring someone to deliver food to you whenever you’re hungry or sending you romantic poems, pouring his whole heart into words of affirmation if he can’t be with you physically.

When he takes a small step back, he still has you in his arms, and he takes a good look over you, making sure you‘re okay.

"Kō? Everything okay?" You quietly ask your lover with a worried look on your face because it looks like he is close to tearing up.

"I just missed you so, my precious sweetheart. I am sorry I was gone for so long, you’re always in my thoughts every day and when you didn’t answer your phone…. I-I was so scared that something happened to you." Almost shaking, he responds while caressing your face.

You see the two owls on his neck, one great horned owl, representing him and one collared owlet, representing you.

He got that tattoo done on your first anniversary together, you sat with him while he didn’t flinch a single time, he just kept smiling at you while caressing your hand with his own.

That may have been a stupid decision on his part, because everyone knows you shouldn’t get a couple tattoo of your partner but you know it and Bokuto knows it.

You are soulmates, even if your worlds are completely different from another.