Bang, Bang

Darkstache fic, angst, hurt/comfort, guilt, mental breakdowns. (This is also posted on my AO3).

October 13th: the day Mark took everything from them. It’s been a long time, but they’re still struggling to live with the aftermath of what happened.

@mayor-damien-protection-squad (thought I’d tag you here since I’ve seen that you do encourage being tagged in this kind of thing. I hope you don’t mind.)

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Katara’s Time

It had been a long time since Katara had thought about the ancient fortuneteller that she and her husband had met nearly a century ago. But she had never forgotten the words Aunt Wu had said;

You will have your third great-grandchild before quietly passing away in your sleep.

At fourteen she hadn’t given these words much thought but now at the age of one-hundred it was all she could think about.

She was the last of her friends to go. Her brother had been the first. It had been a warriors death like he had always wanted, protecting Republic City from its first invasion that had become a common occurrence to Katara over years. She didn’t think she could survive the pain that his death had brought her, until she experienced it four more times.

Next was her husband. After saving the world, building a city and raising their three children it was easy to forget that the avatar wasn’t invincible, especially since he’d brought up Bumi and lived to tell the tale. But although scars fade they never truly go away including ones forever scorched into his back that she healed herself. It’s better this way he told her as injuries that no child should ever have obtained finally caught up to his health. He died happily knowing that this time he was leaving the world in time of peace instead of a war. It had been over thirty years since his death yet she missed him more with everyday. Often she would find herself looking at the new avatar, smiling to herself when she recognised her late husband inside her.

Toph was too stubborn to die. She fought to the last agonising breathe but eventually the calling of the spirits was too much for even her and she passed away slowly, her two daughters by her side with family feuds long forgotten. At her funeral Katara was finally allowed to tell her niece the secret shed kept hidden for nearly sixty years.

Last to leave was The Fire Lord himself. At ninety-eight he had been the last person alive during the one hundred year war, besides herself. Except for herself there was now no one left to tell the story of their adventures first hand. They were now officially part of history. She could still remember the day he invaded her village. It was impossible to think back then that somehow this man would become one of her greatest friends. The two had spent a lot of time together in their later years, both needing friendship after the deaths of their spouses. It difficult to imagine life without The Fire Lord but she knew that Izumi would do him proud.


“It’s a girl!” Katara cried happily as she birthed her eldest grandchild’s youngest daughter. Jinora smiled an exhausted but joyous smile as she was passed life she helped create. Kai wrapped his arms gently around his wife while their other two children Pema II and Gyatso peered curiously at their new baby sister.

Suddenly the small room became crowded with people as everyone that Katara had grown to call family entered. Her son and his wife rushed towards their daughter with loving open arms, frantically checking that both she and her baby were alright. Tenzin placed a comforting hand on Kai’s shoulder having finally forgiving him getting his daughter pregnant at eighteen making his son-in-law glow with acceptance. Ikki, Meelo and Rohan came next, their tattoos shining brightly against their skin. They gave her encouraging looks before moving aside to let their honorary older sister see. Korra bended the elements in a small ring around the baby’s head making her eyes widen in awe. Asami laughed gently at her wife’s antics whilst their son Hiroshi stood unimpressed besides them. Suyin and her children entered next having officially become part of the family. They lovingly presented their cousin with a showering of gifts and Sokka II looked confused from Opal’s arms at the sight of another baby. Kya tried unsuccessfully to coax Lin inside who stubbornly stood outside with Mako and Wu who despite having two children of their own where still terrified at the sight of babies.

Katara sat down with a sigh as the healing chamber became too crowed, not that she’d have it any other way. She knew she could never tire of seeing the way a family comes together at the birth of a baby.

“What you gonna call her?” Hiroshi asked from where he was standing next to Pema II making the young girl blush.

Jinora shared a look with her husband before turning to look bashfully at her grandmother.

“Katara.” She said hopefully.

At her age Katara thought she was too old to be shocked but at these words she found her eyes widen. But at her granddaughter’s regretful look her eyes eyes softened into a smile.

“I’m honoured.” She said suddenly feeling a great weight had passed through her.

“Are you alright Mum?” Bumi said coming over to her. “Maybe you should lie down.”

She rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been delivering babies since I was twelve years old, it’s going to take more than that to tire me out.”

Despite her words she retired to her room thinking of the adventure known as her life. It hadn’t been easy and their where parts she’d rather forget but hearing the cry of the newest member of family made everything worth it.

She went to sleep to the sound of her families’ cries of joy and Aunt Wu’s prophecy.

She awoke to welcoming tone of her husbands voice.

You stand in line. You rock gently back and forth to the beat of your own music. A person walks up to you and tells you to stop moving. You stare in confusion as they walk away. Why are they allowed to move and you aren’t?

You stand in line. Sunglasses protecting your eyes from the harsh florescent lights blaring above. A new person comes up to you, and demands you remove the sunglasses. They then walk outside, placing the sunglasses over their eyes. “It’s because it’s bright out.” they explain. You explain that it’s bright inside as well. They cannot hear you, you are in a bubble. No one can hear you.

You stand in line. A third person walks up to you, yelling at you to get out of line. You begin to move away, frightened by their anger, but they suddenly change their demeanor. “It was just a joke, don’t be so literal!” they laugh. You stare, unsure why they think yelling at you is funny. You stand in line. Seconds, minutes, hours, pass by. You check your watch - it’s been 2 minutes. Another few hours pass by - it’s been 4 minutes.

You stand in line. You want to sit down, but are yelled at for resting. “No one else is tired, you’re not tired either!” you are told. You tell them you are indeed tired. They cannot hear you, you are in a bubble.

You stand in line. You suddenly become aware that you have no idea why you’re in line or what it’s for. You’ve been there so long you’ve forgotten why. Or did you never know to begin with? Everyone else thinks the reason is obvious. They refuse to tell you why, and decide to laugh at you instead. You’ve been in line forever. It’s been 5 minutes. You suspect you will never leave the line nor get to the end.

You stand in line.

My favorite accusation from Kylo Ren defenders is how I, and other people who criticize Kylo Ren, “lack compassion”.

Because they’re right of course.  Even if Kylo Ren WERE a canon victim of abuse (which he, as of now, is not).  Even if Kylo Ren WERE a canon sufferer of mental illness (which he, as of now, is not)…

I don’t have compassion for an adult man who has shown over and over again that he has the opportunity to choose, and he has chosen to murder innocent people, assist in slavery and genocide, and abduct and torture both enemy combatants and civilians.

You know who I have compassion for?

I have compassion for the villagers on Jakku, who were massacred as they stood, disarmed and subdued by an invading foreign force.

I have compassion for Lor San Tekka, who, unarmed, faced a villain and tried to appeal to his humanity.

I have compassion for Poe Dameron, who was captured, tortured, and mentally violated.

I have compassion for Rey, a CIVILIAN, who was captured, tortured, and mentally violated.

I have compassion for Finn and all of the other Stormtroopers, who the First Order raised from childhood to be dehumanized cannon fodder and weapons.

I have compassion for the people of the Hosnian system, who died in the First Order’s genocide.

(Both of these crimes Kylo aided, with full knowledge of what they entailed.)

I have compassion for the people of Takodana, who died at the hands of an invading, foreign military force.

I have compassion for Han Solo, who was murdered at the hands of his son, when he begged the man to come home.

THAT’s where my compassion is.  So you can forgive me for not having any to spare for a man who has chosen his fate.

Fuck Kylo Ren.


requested by: @heartattackholland 

summaryTom Holland was your best friend growing up, but as his acting career took off–the two of you fell out of touch. However, past feelings for him rise up again as a wedding invitation from him arrives for you in the mail. 

pairings: tom holland x reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: a lot of angst, a lot of explicit swearing

a/n: this shit y’all–whew–i was FEELIN the angst with this one guys, it was bananas. i loved it. i also tried to incorporate more of his family into it, and also a very made-up side character. enjoy, babes! 

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” you asked, your voice carrying in the sweet summer breeze.

Tom looked up from the flower crown he was weaving together, his brow furrowing in thought. “I don’t know….maybe an actor.”

“An actor?” you smiled, plucking a daisy from the grassy field. “Why?”

“I want to make people smile and make people laugh,” he replied, his hands stilling in his lap. “I want to make people feel things, you know?”

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I found someone who loved me like he was afraid to lose me and it was real. He made me laugh, smile and cry; and taught me how to see the goodness inside of me I had long forgotten existed.
He listened to me talk for hours and told stories of his past and things that frightened him because he trusted me enough to know that I’d take his secret to my grave. He was right. It was so damn real and he loved me and I loved him back passionately; but it didn’t last cause he loved me, just not enough.
From time to time it still pains me to think that years down the lane his face won’t be the one I wake up to.
But darling, pain teaches you lessons, makes you stronger than ever before and I’ve learnt to find comfort in the lessons taught to me.
It taught me things about love and truth but mostly myself;
I am a deeply unhappy person who constantly needs someone to have my back when my thoughts turn into raging storms.
No, it wasn’t his fault that he left after realising the intensity of darkness inside of me but it was his fault to fool me into thinking he was brave enough to help me go through with it.
I was born with a sadness so overwhelming it frightens me too, sometimes.
But what I do know is that there’s someone out there feeling the same ache in his bones as I do and when it gets harder to make it through the day I’ll tell my heart to be patient for I haven’t found him yet.
When I finally find him I won’t ask him why he took so long to make our paths cross.
Instead; I’ll hold him, plant soft kisses on his face and ever so softly whisper, “welcome home, babe.”
—  I’ll wait for as many years as it takes because I’m certain you’re out there. // Rida Aamina (17.9.17)

He stared at her, looking for any hint that Aelin was still in there. She was armed to the teeth, waiting for the order.

His brothers beside him tensed. They all knew what this meant. They’d have fifteen - twenty minutes at best against that well of power. The mating bond was silent.

Maeve had broken her. She was no longer his fireheart, but a weapon for Maeve. Beside her stood Erawan.

He glanced over their front line, his heart sank they all saw it. It was a glimmer of iron that caught his attention. Manon was smiling, but not her normal I’m going to enjoy ripping your throat out smile. No this was a hopeful smile.

Beside her Elide, sweet little Elide had the same smile without the iron. They were about to be turned to ash and they were smiling like solstice came early.

Manon turned to him, those gold eyes glowing. “Have hope Prince.”

He didn’t know where he should find such hope. His hope was not beside him, instead she was beside Maeve possessed by a demon.

“It appears that Erawan did not learn his lesson from Kaltain, such a big lesson to learn.”

His heart fluttered. He saw it then, the glint her eyes got right before she was going to stop all of their hearts with some insane plan.

He felt a fire shield envelope him. To anyone else it would feel like a threat to him, Lorcan and Gavriel they knew this was protection from what ever fire she was about to release.

Holy. Rutting. Gods.

Erawan could not have been stupid enough to give her the third key.

This was not wildfire, no this was sunfire, Mala’s fire not Brannon’s. He felt a nudge to move forward, he looked at his companions, the other scions they had picked up along the way, each stepping towards Aelin. He felt the bond between them, it webbed vastly from Nox the thief, to Aedion the god of war. Lorcan blessed by Hellas grabbed the hand of Elide.

In his ear, Deana whispered, ‘To whatever end. Have hope Prince.’

He remembered a day so long ago on a forgotten temple, a whisper of a thought “Perhaps Deanna and Mala weren’t always rivals.”

They had planned this. The fading gods had a plan.


Author: @knockknocksoosthere as a part of the Bound series with @kpopfanfictrash and @bread-jinie

Creative Content Contributor: @baebae-goodnight (her mood boards are amazing - like all the damn time)

Rating: M - explicit sex, cursing, drinking

Word Count: 6k

Summary:  Married by obligation, weighed down by circumstance. Except for those nights when you’re both drunk, falling into bed with one another and realizing you’re human. Occasionally this happens, occasionally you fuck. Until your life changes and you realize Namjoon, the very man you’re obligated to, might just be the very man that you crave.

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When You Are Needy During Your Period

~Kim Namjoon~

You’d be such a needy mess. Crawling into his lap, blatantly grabbing his dick through his pants, anything. Namjoon would grunt and softly move your hands away with a sad smile.

“Sorry baby girl. Not right now. How about some ice cream instead?”

Originally posted by jjeonguk

~Kim Seokjin~

Jin would basically have to pry you off of him. He’d try tucking you under the covers of the bed to make sure you weren’t molesting him in the middle of the night. However you always found a way to break through.

“Jagiya, I can’t sleep if your-. Y/n stop touching me!”

Originally posted by jeonsshi

~Min Yoongi~

Yoongi wasn’t used to this type of neediness. You were not much for touching out in public. So when you palmed him under the table at dinner, he nearly spilled his soup. Yoongi snatched your hand and gave you a dark glare.

“If it wasn’t that time of the month, I’d wreck you right across this table.”

Originally posted by dreamyoongi

~Jung Hoseok~

Hobi groaned as you bounced in his lap, frequently bending down to kiss his neck. The morning news long forgotten. You found a way to pop the first few buttons on his shirt but was immediately stopped by his strong hands.

“Breakfast first, baby. Then we’ll see.”

Originally posted by syubto

~Park Jimin~

Jimin was taken back when you leaned over right before bed, and practically shoved your tongue down his throat. You clawed at his t-shirt and mewled desperately. Jimin nuzzled your nose and cupped your face.

“Get some sleep Princess.”

Originally posted by sugapil

~Kim Taehyung~

You had cornered him in the shower. Taehyung was all about preserving water, but not when you were complaining about cramping minutes before. With you both naked, it gave your hands free reign. He couldn’t help but grow hard at your insistent petting.

“Ah, don’t complain of stomach pains later Y/n.”

Originally posted by jimiyoong

~Jeon Jungkook~

Jungkook would be so confused. One moment you were moaning about period pains and the next, sticking your hand down the front of his pants. He’d gently pull your hand away and try to divert your attention to something else.

“How about eating some sushi. You want to eat-….Y/N!”

Originally posted by nnochu

Humanity is exhausting. By now, this much Castiel knows.

Being human means that one has to eat. And sleep, which is pretty much a waste of precious time. It also means frequently having to use the bathroom, even at times when it’s terribly inconvenient. In all honesty, it sucks.

Or so Castiel thinks, until he wakes up in the bunker one morning with Dean Winchester already sitting on the edge of his bed, shyly offering him some coffee and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Ironically, that one simple sandwich tells Castiel everything that he needs to know.

Perhaps it’s the taste of it, or the familiar structure; a ghost of memories long forgotten. But most of all, it’s the fact that Dean remembers. Remembers what Cas might need and enjoy at this point, remembers this one tiny detail that’s somehow enough to put the fallen angel at ease on a dreary Monday morning.

“I love peanut butter and jelly… Thank you,” Castiel says, sighing blissfully as he picks up the sandwich that Dean brought for breakfast.

Dean merely grins, looking nothing short of satisfied as he curls up next to Castiel on the bed, draping his arm over Castiel’s waist.

“Yeah, Cas. I know.”

— aquiver | 05 (m)

aquiver (adj.) [uh-kwiv-er] in a state of trepidation or vibrant agitation; trembling; quivering

pairing min yoongi x reader
genre/warnings—  smut (!!!), romance, fluff???, the beginnings of angst, the foreshadowing is real…(sorry!)

:: summary Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…

note inspired by the novella ‘The Grownup’ by Gillian Flynn, literally just the main character’s past occupation haha

  » 01 :: 02 :: 03 :: 04 :: 05 :: 06 ::

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🕊✨ Just Angelic Things: ✨🕊

- Warm milk tea with a spoonful of honey
- Iridescent highlighters
- Big fluffy blankets
- Antiques
- Just a little more vanilla…
- Abandoned places overtaken by nature
- High ceilings and open spaces
- Scribbled poems and scriptures on the closest thing to write on at the time
- Big windows with flowing curtains
- Natural light–as much as we can get or too much to bear.
- “Old soul,” but actually ancient. Possibly pre-existing time itself.
- People watching
- Meddling (either good or bad)
- Daydreaming of times you can’t quite remember, but still feeling a sense of nostalgia for how things were.
- Flowers laced in your hair to make up for the empty space above your head
- Being restlessly awake at ungodly hours of the morning
- Cloud watching & stargazing
- Strongly resonating with things out of the blue
- Feeling tingles or a burning in your core when seeing or hearing reminders of the Divine
- Gilded in bronze, silver, copper, & gold everything
- Humming tunes to ‘modern’ songs because you have long forgotten the hymns you used to sing