rage shakes

When the really terrible things happen, we start begging a God we don’t believe in to bring back the little horrors and take away this. It seems quaint now, doesn’t it? The flood in the kitchen, the poison oak, the fight that leaves you shaking with rage. Would it have helped if we could see what else was coming? Would we have known that those were the best moments of our lives?
—  Meredith Grey
okay but

when rowan finally gets to aelin, and she’s probably locked inside the coffin without any hope of ever getting out, so completely battered and broken physically but content because she knows she did everything possible to give her people, her court, her family a chance, 
and then suddenly she hears some kind of inhuman roar through the iron box that muffles almost all noise, but somehow this sound is loud enough to still hurt her ears even through the box,
and screeching as someone physically rips open the box, and she can smell copious amounts of blood in the air and the entire cadre is there, summoned by Rowan for the break in a day earlier and using all of their strength to save the queen they want to serve from the one they deplore,
and they shakily lift her out of the coffin but she can’t even be grateful because Rowan’s not  t h e r e, and if he’s not with them he must be hurt and oh  g o d s what if he’s dead, and she’s starting to lose it because she can handle whippings and beatings and torture but she can’t handle her mate being gone, not having been able to save him–
and then there’s a shriek nearby and suddenly he’s there, her mate is there, in the same room as her, cut and bruised and limping but alive, and with him is Maeve, but something is different and–oh gods, her neck is broken, her mate killed the woman who has starred in every one of her nightmares for the last year, the ones that didn’t end when she woke up, when the pain from the bone deep injuries pulled her out of brief unconsciousness, her magic unable to heal so many extensive injuries, and not in an iron box, iron shavings sprinkled onto her tattered skin after her session every day before she could be returned to the coffin, Maeve is DEAD she’s finally gone, and aelin lets out the smallest sound of relief,
and then rowan is next to her, snatching her out of his brothers’ arms quickly, but so carefully, tears building up in his eyes at the sight of her in so much pain, shaking with rage at quite how much blood and muscle is visible,
and her mouth starts to move, and she wants to apologize for not telling him about the mating bond and for sacrificing herself and not telling him, but he can see it in her face and cocks his head in the way she knows means don’t you dare apologize, Fireheart and gods she has missed this effortless communication, and Rowan, everything about Rowan, her husband and consort and mate,
and they’re both grasping each other tightly to assure that they’re real, because Rowan has seen his mate’s face day in and day out in battle strategy discussions next to Aedion and in the nightmares that never seem to end, and Aelin never thought this suffering would end but he’s here, he came for her even though they both knew he shouldn’t have, and she can’t stop looking at him, at that face she loves, and then he turns to face her directly and for a moment she thinks she’s seeing double–but no, there’s that scar above his left eyebrow, so the only thing that makes sense is–
“You got a new tattoo.” her voice is quiet and hoarse, but still so unequivocally Aelin, and he wants to both laugh and sob into her because of course, of course that’s the first thing she notices, the first thing she says to him, the first thing his mate says to him after being apart for a year, so he nods and clears his throat,
“I–our story needed to be represented there too. I mentioned the idea to Fenrys the morning you–the morning after our ceremony. And then you were gone, and…” his throat felt swollen shut, but he continued speaking. “and then it seemed only right that you had a place next to Lyria’s, even though I hadn’t learned my lesson and…” he trails off, but she can read the “failed you, failed you both but here again Maeve went right by me and I failed you
“Buzzard,” she says, and she could tell him all the same with her eyes and her face but after so long of nothing escaping her mouth but screams, it feels so good to talk, “I can’t have you taking credit for my abduction when we both know I’m simply too clever of a mastermind for you to have realized what was happening. And you’re here now, and that…I could never have asked it of anyone. You came.”
“Of course I came,” he can’t stop looking at her, hands still wrapped gingerly around her emaciated frame, and if he hadn’t already rutting killed Maeve and Carn he would lose it right now at feeling her ribs poking at skin where there used to be layers of muscle. “I’m not just anyone.” his voice cracks, and he so so hates displays of emotion and mushiness but he needs her to hear it, to know. “I love you, Fireheart. You’re going to have to get used to the idea that I’m never going to let you go if we’re going to be mated for the rest of both of our fae lifespans.”
and she’s laughing and crying, because of course she is, and this arrogant, territorial male is hers for all of that time, and she wants to ask after Aedion and Lysandra and Elide and Dorian and Chaol and Nesryn and the thirteen, but she knows he wouldn’t leave them defenseless for anything, and her mate is here and he knows he’s her mate and gods is she so glad to have the ridiculous buzzard in her life.
He gets her out of the dungeon, out of the palace and she can feel him tense when they get into the sunlight and the iron in her wounds is visible, and he starts to growl but restrains himself when the sound makes her cower the tiniest bit, and he presses his lips to her temple but she can feel the wind delicately removing the tiny metal bits from her back, and her magic slowly, slowly starts to knit the skin back together, cell by cell, and then she’s in a featherbed sleeping finally because she knows there’s no way in hell he will take his eyes off of her for the next century, and a few hours later she opens her eyes because something thumps onto the deck of the ship, and she startles and clenches her fists because they must have found her, but then her door is thrown open and Lysandra is there, running to her with tremendous sobs, and she can smell the cadre in the hallway, and Chaol runs in too, but they’re both thrown out of the way by a volatile Aedion, and she knows something must be wrong because Dorian and Manon and Elide aren’t there, oh gods not Dorian, and she knows well enough that war comes with sacrifices, but it was supposed to be her, not her book loving best friend, and of her a moment they’re all crying together before Lysandra pulls a sealed envelope from her pocket, addressed to her in that regal script, and she bursts out laughing because of course he left her a note, of course he’s going to tell her he chose this, it’s so very Dorian, 
and she spends days like this, crying and laughing and healing and trying not to flinch at every noise and voice, wrapped in Rowan’s arms and catching up on hundreds of hours of sleep deprivation, until one morning he’s shaking her and she groans in opposition, but he pulls her to her feet and helps her to the deck, and her breath catches because she can smell it already–pine and snow and love and happiness and oh gods, they’re finally–
“Home,” Rowan breathes in her ear. “We’re home, Fireheart.”

Butterfly Wings

Pidge:

The first time Lance walked into the common room without makeup on early in the morning, Hunk cried.
Hunk had known about Lance’s Vitiligo since early days in the Garrison when he had accidentally walked in on him while changing. Since then Hunk had worked as a one person protection squad ready to kill anyone that so much as glanced at Lance the wrong way.
He had known that Allura knew about Lance’s skin since he had told Hunk almost immediately after it had happened.
However he had never expected that only a few days later Lance would come stumbling into the kitchen first thing in the morning, hair messed up from sleep and eyes half closed; only wearing his boxers and a white vest causing the pale patches that ran across his arms, back, neck and face to be perfectly visible.
Hunk couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so proud of his best friend. This truly was an achievement.
Lance looked over at Hunk opening his mouth and pointing at it demanding his breakfast.
Hunk only rolled his eyes and laughed swatting at the blue paladin with a wooden spoon. “Foods almost done, so sit down and don’t complain.”
“Ok Hunky dory” Lance teased sitting at the long table with his head rested on his arms snoozing till the space porridge was ready.
For a few minutes everything was peaceful.
Then Pidge walked into the kitchen and stopped in their tracks staring at Lance.
Before Hunk even realised what was going on, they were already rushing over to the snoozing paladin with a panicked look on their face.
“Oh my god Lance what happened to you!?”
Hunk flinched. He prayed that Lance hadn’t heard anything, that he won’t have to deal with this again.
However Hunk wasn’t that lucky.
Lance slowly straightened up looking at Pidge was a forced smile.
Pidge gasped seeing the pale patches also on his face.
“Nothing happened Pidge, im fine.” He shrugged casually but Hunk could see he was practically curling in on himself.
“Fine!” Pidge exclaimed “Lance have you looked in the mirror today?! There’s something wrong with your skin it could be an alien parasite for all we know!”
Lance bit his lip, the effort not to cry so intense that he managed to draw blood. “Pidge I’m fine this is just… how my skin is.”
“B-but how!?” Pidge asked looking over at Hunk. They were shocked to see the usually gentle yellow paladin shaking with rage.
“Pidge stop.” Hunk hissed through gritted teeth.
“Hunk its fine…” Lance tried putting a hand to his mouth to hide the cut.
“No it’s not!” Hunk snapped putting the spoon down and glared at at Pidge. “You remember when we kept badgering you about your gender. Asking you why your like this and what’s wrong with you?”
Pidge looked confused and a little scared “n-no.”
“Exactly. Because we knew it would hurt you to ask such things, yet here you are doing the same thing to Lance.”
Pidge looked down guilty “I’m… I’m sorry Lance I just… I didn’t know what it was and I was worried.”
Lance smiled hugging the smaller paladin from behind “it’s ok, a lot of people don’t know what it is and can kinda freak seeing it the first time. I really am not sick, it’s just how my skin is. I’m fine.”
Hunk pretended not to notice how Lance’s voice cracked with emotion as he spoke.
And he pretended not to notice when the next morning Lance came to breakfast in his normal clothes and his makeup back on.

Let me drown in my Darkiplier hell.  My inner fanfiction writer won’t let him go.

And yet the analysis machine rolls on…because I’m clingy and can’t let go.

This time around, I was thinking about what Mark had said about Dark through his charity livestream around the time the date video released (transcript here), and how they were able to translate that into what we have seen in Darkiplier’s entrances.  One of them in particular stood out to me the most.

“Darkiplier is an entirely different person from me. But, much like Warfstache, doesn’t obey the laws of physics.  He exists in another world entirely and bleeds through into this one.

Honestly, I think a lot of people have already had this as their personal canon for Dark, given that a grand majority of the ones I’ve seen just consider him some kind of demon who took a liking to Mark because come on, he’s famous and has a rather muscular body that’s PERFECT for…demon…plans…or whatever demons plan out.

Actually, what really caught my interest is that Darkiplier doesn’t obey the laws of physics.  As a physics major, this makes me wonder what laws he could be following, as I personally believe that any world follows some form of “physical law”.  I sat on it for a few days before I figured it out.  It’s pretty rational too.

He runs on video editing logic.

Originally posted by its-miki-la-chicana

He doesn’t walk anywhere, he jump cuts.  Notice how he never walks us to a table for dinner, we just…appear there.  No problems, after all.  He has the power of jump cut.  We’ll just be there because we can.

Originally posted by septicpotato

His emotions literally operate how we see him.  His anger leaks through in glitches, ruining what is otherwise a “cleanly shaped” image of himself.

Originally posted by lum1natrix

Notice how the angrier he gets, the more glitches and zooms occur.  On top of that, the one thing I utterly love is how the camera shakes.  Dark’s rage is leaking at such a capacity that even the dimension we’re in is shaking.  It remains as my favorite effect applied in the entire series, and if Mark ever does bring him back for another round, we get more camera shakes.  Shake that camera like you shake that neck, dude.

But compare that to when he’s finalizing how we’re going to be together forever and that we can never leave.

Originally posted by lum1natrix

No glitches, no rapid camera shakes, hell, Dark’s not even saturated in color filters like the wine bottle next to him.  He’s fully in control of his berserker rage and now the dimension we’re in is fully stabilized.  There’s nothing to be angry about; he’s won.  It’s the ONLY scene where Dark isn’t surrounded by glitches.  So for the first time, he’s not even angry.  Holy shit.

But there’s one thing that solidifies my theory on Darkiplier’s physics logic.  And it’s this one right here.

Originally posted by septicpotato

Darkiplier somehow has the ability to keep us trapped in a loop in this prison until we take another ending route.  We can all assume that perhaps he just uses his otherworld demon powers to keep us here for him to watch us go through our personal hell.  But let’s reword this logic.

What if…instead of saying he has the power to trap people in dimension loops…

He has the power to rewind time?

Like a video cassette?

Or a YouTube video?

You’re No Brother Of Mine.

Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. Sorry. Anon requested- Hey! I was wondering if you could write an imagine with this scenario, when Dean went to hell Sam went nuts ofc so he dropped their little sister (15/16 yo) in Bobby’s place and when Dean gets back he is pissed w Sam for what he did to you. You are also pissed and very upset w him, so one day he asks you what’s the matter and you explode and tell him how painful it was to be left by him and everything. I know it’s very specific but I would rlly aprecciate if you do it, can you also put fluffy?

Warnings- swearing, mentions of depression, also Sam’s kinda a dick for the first couple of paragraphs but he was high on the demon blood so that explains it.

A/N- I’ve kind of been stuck in a slump for the past week, so writing has been difficult for me but i’m feeling a bit better so i’m ready to write again!

FLASHBACKS IN ITALICS


Four months, it had been four months since Dean died, four months since Sam left you. You still didn’t understand why he left, at first you didn’t mind, you knew he needed his space after all he did witness his brother getting torn to shreds by a Hell hound. 

After a week of you staying at Bobby’s you became curious, you had rung and texted Sam numerous times but he never answered, your phone would always go to voice mail or it would just ring non-stop. After a month of silence you decided to try and track him, you tried to keep it a secret from Bobby, he thought you and Sam talked everyday, that’s what you told him. 

Keep reading

Dead Girl Walking

Pairing: Lucifer x Reader

Warnings: Smutty smut, unprotected sex, language, violence, domestic dispute, destruction of personal property, dom!Luci,   

A/N: Anonymous requested: The reader is in the bunker, fighting with one of the angels, preferably Luci or Balthazar - yelling and throwing things when their anger turns to passion and they start having violent sex, leaving holes in the walls and the books in the library scattered to the floor, chairs overturned, so the boys later is all “What the hell happened to our home?”

Thank you for the request, anon <3 I loved writing this!

Keep reading

14 | You’ll Never Walk Alone | Opening Scene

“I gave you one job.” Jimin hissed through clenched teeth, his jaw set tight as he imagined you all beaten and bruised. Perhaps it was a good thing he was blind. He was furious, livid that Taehyung had been so careless.

“I know. I fucked up I’m so—“

“Oh you’re sorry are you?” He was shaking with rage, fists balled tightly on the surface of his desk. “What did I say to you, hm? The day I left, what did I fucking say?”

“That she’s your life, and that I don’t have room to fuck up where she’s concerned.” Taehyung said softly with equal parts sadness and guilt. It was obvious he blamed himself for what had happened to you, and it was just about the only thing the two men could agree on.

“If she dies… You die.” Jimin spat, his legs bouncing up and down nervously underneath the desk as he waited for the daily phone call. Every time he tried to do the right thing something catastrophic happened. As angry as he was at Taehyung for being reckless, with Minho gone he knew that he was going to have to put him in charge sooner or later.

“I understand.” Taehyung swallowed before nodding respectfully, even though your brother couldn’t see him. It had been thirteen days since the rescue mission that took Minho’s life, Jackson’s whereabouts still unknown.

“I don’t think you do.” Jimin’s voice was low and dripping with venom, “If Y/N dies you’ll have me to answer to. And if there’s no body, there’s no crime.” 

“If she dies I’ll pull the trigger mys—“

The harsh ringing of Jimin’s phone filled the thick atmosphere, prompting him to peel it from the desk and answer it at lightning speed.

“Jungkook? Is that you?” He asked, his pride compromised as desperation and hope wavered his usually steady voice, his hands shaking. 

“She’s awake.”

full chapter coming 23/07

anonymous asked:

For a little angst, and feel free to refuse to write this, how about victuuri having a small fight but stressed Victor yells and sends yuuri into a panic attack and only phichit can calm him down?

Big thanks to @tododorky / @avocadowrites for helping me come up with an idea for this prompt!

Phone

“WHY WOULD YOU TURN YOUR PHONE OFF!”

Yuuri flinched at Victor’s tone, unused to Victor raising his voice.

Victor was not a shouter, he didn’t scream or yell. Victor was the type of person to lower his voice when angry, something Yuuri had only seen a handful of times and only once directed at him.

But this, this was different, Victor was physically shaking in rage right in front of him. His phone clutched so tightly in his hand that his knuckles were white.

He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Victor.

“DO YOU,” the Russian paused and took a shaky breath, eyes never straying from him, “Do you know how worried I was? I get a phone call telling me my apartment building had a fire incident and I can’t get a hold of my fiancé.”

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, dropping his gaze to his feet as his hands curling into fists at his side.

“And when I arrive, I can’t find you anywhere. Yuuri, look at me,” Victor said while grabbing his chin in his free hand and tilting his head up. He found himself staring into Victor’s gorgeous blue eyes as his heart pounded in his chest.

“I’m sorry,” the words tumbled from his lips, shakier than before.

He upset Victor.

He had made Victor angry. Really angry.

What if Victor broke up with him?

What if Victor broke their engagement?

What if Victor decided not to coach him anymore?

He hadn’t meant to upset Victor.

He hadn’t meant to ignore the phone call.

He hadn’t meant to not be in seeing distance when Victor arrived back at the apartment.

“Hey, Yuuri,” he vaguely heard Victor say to him as he pulled away from his fiancé and slowly knelt down on the ground.

“Yuuri? Yuuri? Yuuri!”

He didn’t mean to do it.

His phone hadn’t been working.

He didn’t mean to ignore Victor’s call.

He had been freaked out by the fire alarm.

He didn’t really know any of their neighbours like Victor did.

He had just settled down away from the group of tenants.

He hadn’t meant to upset Victor.

“Yuuri,” he felt his breath stutter in his throat, “What’s wrong?”

That was Phichit’s voice, he finally noticed the phone gently pressed against his ear and grabbed onto it to hold it in place himself.

“I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, barely noticing how stuttered and out of breath he sounded.

“I know you didn’t, Yuu. Victor isn’t mad,” Phichit voice sounded so soft, so gently, “Can you take a big breath for me? Like the ones we use to take in yoga class? One big breath, hold it for five seconds, then release it. How about we do it together?” Yuuri found himself nodding along with Phichit.

“Ready? One big breath in,” he took a deep breath, “One, two, three, four and five, release,” he exhaled. He followed Phichit’s instructions as he continued to walk him through the breathing technique.

Slowly, he started to notice things around him.

That he was now sitting on the ground.

That Makkachin was laying between his legs, head in his lap.

That he was sitting on the ground outside.

That he was rather cold.

He jolted when something was placed on his shoulders, and he hummed softly as he realised it was a jacket.

“Yuuri, one to ten?” Phichit questioned, causing him to pause. Phichit was asking him to rank how he was currently feeling from one to ten. Oh god, he had just had a panic attack.

“Five?” he said softly while giving Makkachin a scratch behind the ear.

“Five is good. Could be better. What colour is the sky?” Yuuri found himself glancing upwards at the question.

“Grey,” he answered honestly.

“What colour in Makkachin?”

“Brown,” he said while smiling softly at the poodle.

“Where is Victor?” he paused at that question and glanced around until he found his fiancé talking to one of the fireman.

“He is a couple meters away from me, talking to a fireman.”

“Fireman?” Phichit questioned.

“Oh,” he mumbled softly, “There was a fire in the apartment block and everyone had to evacuate.”

“And where was Victor when this was happening?” Phichit questioned.

“Out shopping with Makkachin,” he replied.

“Shopping for what?” Yuuri paused, trying to remember what Victor had gone out shopping for.

“Shopping for a new phone for me,” he mumbled ever so softly.

He waited for a moment, listening to the silence on the other end of the phone. He even double checked the phone - which he finally noticed was Victor’s - to see if maybe Phichit had accidentally hung up.

“Okay, please hit your future husband for sending you into a panic attack for forgetting you didn’t have a phone.” Yuuri couldn’t help the small giggle that left him.

“One to ten?”

“One,” Yuuri replied.

“Brilliant, well, go yell at your fiancé. Call me back on your new phone, whenever you get it, I have some goss to catch you up on,” Phichit told him, causing him to smile softly.

“Okay, thank you, Phichit,” he mumbled softly.

“Anytime, Yuuri.” They exchanged goodbyes before Yuuri got to his feet and stumbled his way over to Victor, who stood standing staring at their apartment with a frown on his face.

“Victor?” he stuttered out, flinching at how quickly his fiancé turned towards him and wrapped him up in a hug.

“Yuuri, I’m sorry, forgive me! I was just so worried! I shouldn’t have yelled at you!” Victor spoke so quickly, Yuuri simply stared at Victor in confusion for a moment as he processed the stream of words that had been said to him.

“I’m sorry,” he replied.

“No,” Victor said while grabbing his face in one hand, “I don’t want you apologising. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I was just so worried when you didn’t pick up your phone.”

“Victor,” his fiancé paused, “You went out to get me a new phone after Yuri broke my other one,” he pointed out.

Victor stared at him for a moment, a clueless look on his face. Victor than let out a groan while leaning his forehead against his shoulder.

“I am so, so sorry, Yuuri,” Victor mumbled against his neck, causing Yuuri to chuckling softly as he wrapped his arms around his fiancé.

He suddenly felt exhausted, lifts numb and eyes heavily.

“I’m tired,” he found himself mumbling.

There was a shout from behind them, catching both of their attention. A fireman stood on the edge of a fire truck, shouting something in Russian that Yuuri didn’t quite understand.

“Let’s get you upstairs and into bed,” Victor mumbled while pressing a kiss against the side of his head. He assumed that meant that the fireman had been telling everyone is was safe to go back inside than.

“Come cuddle with me,” he said while giving a tug on the side of Victor’s shirt.

“Anything you want, Yuuri,” Victor said with a nod while tugging him towards the entryway of their building.

Alter Egos (pt. 4)

Anti struggles to get to his feet after being knocked off the raised nook and onto the floor far below. It’s a fight to get a breath into his stunned lungs, and when he finally gasps in sweet, book-scented air, Wilford Warfstache is dragging him to his feet and throwing him against of the giant, wooden shelves. “Who do you think you are coming in here and threatening people?”

“He was hidin’ Chase from us,” Anti says with an agitated grin. “Besides. I thought we were friends, Wilfster. What’s wrong with roughin’ up the babbling idiot?”

Wilford tosses Anti across the aisle into the adjacent bookshelves. “That babbling idiot is my best friend!”

Host descends the steps quickly. “Wilford! Stop it, now! The Host is fine!” Chase races down after the Host, eyes following Wilford’s arms to where he has Anti’s t-shirt gripped in his fists. The pink Ego is fighting back his murderous rage, visibly shaking with the effort, and when Host reaches him, he places a hand on Wilford’s shoulder and whispers something to him. Chase watches it all from a few feet away where he feels well-removed.

Wilford is terrifying, but Host doesn’t seem to mind. And once his words reach through to the angered Ego’s mind, Warfstache relaxes, releasing Anti with a sigh. Dr. Schneeplestein limps over from the corner of the library he was thrown to, and his blue eyes skitter away from Chase whenever he draws near. Anti just smirks. “The Doctor and his monster are reunited. Say Frankenstein, ya ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

Wilford jerks forward again, but Host grabs both his arms, holding him back. “Pick your battles, Wilford.”

Chase glances at the Doctor who flinches away and walks towards Anti, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him towards the elevator. “Let’s get out of here before something else happens.”

Anti lets Dr. Schneeplestein lead him along as he giggles and continues to taunt the others. “Ya know, Hosty, we weren’t trying to make a little hero.”

Host stands between Anti and Chase. “Stop, Anti.”

But the glitch continues with sick glee. “We wanted ta make a monster. Can’t have that little wimp following us around. We needed a monster to keep up with us!” Dr. Schneeplestein shoves Anti into the elevator.

“Come along soon, Chase. I think it is time that ve leave,” the Doctor calls back as the doors slide shut, and Chase takes the first real breath since he sent that electric shock out from his body.

Wilford tilts Host’s chin up, checking the cut again. “You’ll need to see Doc before long just to make sure you don’t need stitches and that it doesn’t get infected.” Warfstache, still full of pent-up aggression, draws his gun and fires it a few times in the air, causing Chase to jump.

“You did good, Will,” Host assures him. Then turning to Chase, “Chase will have to go soon. Will he be ok if the Egos leave Chase alone with Anti and Dr. Schneeplestein?”

Chase backs up against one of the bookshelves and tries to get his breathing under control. “I-I don’t know. My thoughts are all mixed up…”

Wilford puts the gun away, sure that it’s not helping the situation any and grips the hair at the back of his neck. “For what it’s worth, you really did save the Host. Google alerted me that Anti was headed back to the library, but I was busy trying to restrain Dark. If you hadn’t been here, I wouldn’t have made it in time to keep Anti from… well, you get the idea.”

Chase considers this for a moment before he mutters, “But they made me to be a monster, just like them.”

Host takes another step closer. “Chase needs to understand that Dr. Schneeplestein might’ve engineered him to be one way, but that doesn’t mean that Chase is cursed to that one path.” Host gestures from himself to Wilford. “Both Host and Wilford have to deal with their own inner demons, and they have to do so every day. That doesn’t make them monsters. It’s the choices they make each day that determine whether they will give in to the demons.”

Chase thinks back to the way Wilford had to hold himself back and the way the Host used his abilities to calm his friend rather than let him hurt even his enemy. Anti’s laugh and the Doctor’s measured words ring through Chase’s mind until he shakes his head. “I don’t want to be like them, not today and not ever.”

He smiles up at Host and Wilford with a new light in his bright blue eyes. “I think I’ll try to be a hero. Someone has to keep those two in check, after all.”

Wilford wiggles his mustache and quirks an eyebrow. “You knoooow… Silver Shepherd might have an extra super hero suit laying around…”

And that’s how a man made to be a monster chose to become a hero instead.

The End.

Sons of Lawrence #13

Summary:  Sons of Anarchy meets Supernatural. In this AU, the Winchesters run the most notorious biker gang in Lawrence. They traffic illegal drugs, weapons, and anything else that makes them money and keeps them on top.
Characters in this chapter: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Mary Winchester, Ruby, Jo Harvelle, Elen Harvelle, Bobby Singer, Meg Masters, James Novak. 
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2,861
Warnings: Angst, language, medical jargon
Author’s Note: This series isn’t going to be light and fluffy. It will include explicit language, explicit sexual content, casual use of illegal drugs, explicit canon typical violence.
Miss the beginning? GIF credit [x][x][x][x]

“This isn’t a fairy tale, Mr. Winchester,” Doctor Novak stated matter-of-factly. “Y/N suffered extensive internal damage. I can’t tell you long it will take because I don’t know how long it will take.”

Standing next to Dean’s hospital bed, John had his arms crossed and a scowl on his brow. “I don’t expect immediate results, doc. But there’s gotta be something that can be done.”

James Novak crossed the room and turned on the lights of the x-ray panels on the wall. He opened a large manilla folder and pressed the film up until it got stuck. He ran a finger along the outline of Y/N’s skull. “When Y/N got thrown from the bike, she hit her head. Now, the helmet saved her life, but it also did some damage,” he cleared his throat before continuing. “Along with a severe concussion, the impact resulted in a hematoma. In layman’s terms, clotting of blood outside the blood vessels.”

Mary, who was holding her son’s hand, asked, “Is it serious?”

Doctor Novak nodded. “It can be very serious if a hematoma occurs inside the brain. Unfortunately, that is what occurred. The clotting can cause pressure to build inside the skull, which is a factor into why she lost consciousness. Hopefully that won’t last too long. We went in and drained what we could.”

“What else?” Dean rasped, his throat raw from having a breathing tube removed earlier that morning.

Another piece of film was slapped up. “There was a lot of scar tissue from what had been repaired 3 years ago. This time, she was stabbed more than once. Add in the internal damage from the accident and the loss of blood, Y/N is looking at a rough recovery.”

There was a collective heavy sigh between the Winchesters as Dean pushed his head into the mountain of thin pillows.

“Thank you,” John murmured and held out his hand for the doctor.

James’ lips pressed into a thin line as he shook John’s hand. “Y/N was on a lot of my cases over the past year; she’s an amazing person. I promise that I’ll do everything in my power not to lose her.”

He went to leave the room, but stopped suddenly and rummaged in a pocket of his crisp, tan jacket. “I almost forgot,” he whispered.

Mary held out her hand when James approached and extended a fist. The ring she had given Y/N the other day fell softly into her palm. She choked on a sob and almost crumbled under the weight of John’s hand on her shoulder.

“You’ll get that back to her, Mare,” John promised, his own voice tremulous with emotion.

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the fucking nerve to assume that carrie fisher, a paragon of feminist thought and action, a loud and unapologetic advocate for mentally ill people, would ever be one to tell people to “stop fighting” and “calm down” or would be disappointed in anyone voicing their opinion

anonymous asked:

writing prompt? andrew and neil get into this huge fight while andrew is driving so he tells neil to get out the car and walk the rest of the way. idk you don't have to do it but i thought it could be really cool. x

Where We Belong

(ao3)


“I swear to all that is holy, if you mess with the radio again, I will slice off your hands.”

“Do you really think I’m afraid of you, Andrew?” Neil asked. He pressed the scan button and the radio started rapidly going through the different stations. When Andrew tried to reach forward and stop it, Neil smacked his hand out of the way. “This isn’t actually why you’re mad, is it?”

“I’m not mad,” Andrew said, his voice dripping over mad like it was the most disgusting word in the world, “Anger would imply that I care, which I don’t.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel. As the car cycled through static stations, the only sound in the car was soft static and the creaking leather of Andrew squeezing the life out of his steering wheel.

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Fighting With Daddy

Text: From Nina

Hey girl did you see what was on the news today?! It’s all over social media as well!!

I sigh and roll over in my bed trying to ignore my phone ringing. It’s Monday and thankfully I have a vacation from work this week. I don’t do shit anyway but model bra’s. A job that Namjoon hates but hey he raps and I pose. I hear my phone going off yet again and I finally decide to get up and check to see if something is up. I groan getting up from my bed and going down stairs to the front room sitting on my couch turning the TV on. My phone in my hand as I sit down on the couch. I pout combing my mess of hair out with my hands. I don’t see anything on the news that seems to be interesting so I go upstairs putting on a cut off black shirt and light blue short shorts that show my ass cheeks a bit. I put on long socks that are black and white and go up to over my knees. I go into the bathroom fixing my face. Namjoon is suppose to be over later today but we decided to stay in the house. But who says I can’t be sexy for him without going out? It’s been month’s since he’s last been to LA and I do miss him dearly. And the fact that he’s not staying long just makes my heart crumple.

I go back down stairs and sit back on the couch pulling my phone from the table calling my girl back.

“Hello?” She answers sounding a bit upset.

“What’s wrong Nina? You said that something was on the news and you kept blowing me up.” I say getting up to go into the kitchen fixing myself some cereal. I sit on the bar turning the TV on in there as well and she sighs.

“Well I know that you were excited to see Namjoon come home to you today. But I saw some photos of him at Warren G. studio. He had his arms around this girl’s waste —-.” She says and I laugh loudly eating some of my cereal.

“Yeah so what? Mmmmm good cereal. He hangs with girls and I am ok with that. And it’s jsut a picture.” I say stuffing my mouth with more captain crunch.

“No baby.. His hand is low like how he hugs you.. Now I’m not suggesting that you be mad at him or anything but maybe you want to talk to him? I have to go I’m at work right now. But I will send you the pictures ok?”

“Ok..” I say softly hanging up the phone.

She sends the pictures to me and my mouth drops open. I almost drop my bowl to the ground and I have to put it down looking at the picture with rage. I zoom in on his hand and I feel my anger rising more. Then I see more pictures of him and her and I growl putting my phone down. More like throwing it down. How dare he!? He barely takes pictures with me and when he does he tells me not to post them! But here she is and what? He can just take pictures now?!

I go upstairs and pace around in my bedroom. I look around at the walls that we painted together. The blue and black walls so pretty with our names and hand prints on them just for fun. I sigh and sit on my bed putting my head in my hands as I hear the door open. I get up and go down stairs peeking around at a Namjoon who has his back turned. I sneak into the kitchen and I wash out the bowl my hands shaking with rage as I dry it.

“— I’m home.” Monster says coming into the kitchen I brace my hands against the sink biting on my bottom lip trying not to blow up on him. He comes up behind me trying to hug me and I move from him taking his hands from away from me but I don’t look at him.

“Did you have fun today and yesterday?” I ask him going to the kitchen closet looking into it wanting to throw the rice at him.

“Yeah.. It was an amazing couple of days. I feel so lucky.” He says laughing softly.

“I bet you do. I bet it was.” I say bitterly holding onto the doorknob not realizing how tight I’m holding it.

“Jagiya.. Is everything ok??” He asks me with a worried tone grabbing at my shorts and I sigh slapping his hand from me.

“Whoa whoa what’s going on here. —.. —!” He yells my name and I jump turning around to look at him. His eyebrows are furrowed as his neck veins pop out a bit due to him having an frustrated look on his face.

“Why don’t you fucking tell me?!” I ask pushing him and he approaches me a bit his height shaking me to the core but I’ll be damned to tell him that.

“I don’t even know what the hell your talking about. I just got here and already you wanna pick a fucking fight? What did I do this time??” He asks and I cross my arms over my chest looking up at him.

“THIS TIME?!? THIS TIME?!?! AS IF ALL THE OTHER TIMES ARE MY FAULT?!” I yell at him and he backs up a bit anger rising in his smooth features. He takes his mask off as well as his glasses and I just realize what he’s wearing. A black tank top revealing those dangerous muscles and black skinny jeans that he is sagging in a bit. I look off that color on him having a effect on me but I’m not letting him off that easy. His black beanie hugs his head tightly. He licks his lips leaning against the counter looking down at me.

“No no. It’s not your fault ALL the time. BUT BUT YOU DO IN FACT START HALF OF THE ARGUMENTS! SO I’M FUCKING ASKING YOU SINCE YOUR YELLING WHAT DID I DO NOW?!?” He yells his face turning red.

“WHY DON’T YOU FUCKING GO ASK THE GIRL WHO YOU WAS CAUGHT HUGGING!” I scream turning around hitting the stove. I hear a scoff and a hand grabs my wrist turning me around looking down at me.

“THAT’S WHY YOUR YELLING?!? A FUCKING PICTURE?! A GODDAMN PICTURE?!” He asks and I try to walk away from him but he grabs me again turning me back around. He’s made it obvious he’s not letting this one go.

“YOU NEVER HUG ME LIKE THAT UNLESS ITS A SPECIAL OCCASION! LOOK AT HOW YOUR FUCKING HAND WAS ON THE SMALL OF HER BACK. DAMN HER BREAST WAS ALL ON YOU AND YOU JUST LET IT HAPPEN BUT IF IT WAS ME-”

“I ALWAYS HUG YOU LIKE THAT! AND IF IT WAS YOU I WOULDN’T HAVE FUCKING CARED! YOUR A VICTORIA SECRET BRA AND PANTY MODEL. GUYS AND GIRLS SEE YOU IN JUST YOUR UNDERWEAR. AND WHEN I CALL YOU OUT ON IT OR WHEN I EVEN SHOW MY DISTRESS YOU SAY I HAVE TO TRUST YOU BUT WHERE IS THAT DAMN TRUST NOW?!” He yells pushing me against the bar. I bite my lips to keep my whine from coming out as he locks his hands on both sides of me glaring down at me.

“I DO TRUST YOU I JUST-”

“IF YOU TRUSTED ME YOU WOULDLN’T FUCKING CARE HOW I HELD HER, HOW I LOOKED AT HER!” He says backing away from me turning around and throwing his beanie off revealing those perfect blonde locks.

“You don’t know how hard it is! I have to sit at home EVERYDAY! SEEING ALL THESE GIRLS AROUND YOU WANTING YOU CRAVING YOU AND HERE I AM THE WORLD KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT ME AND AND!” I say stopping myself as tears start to fill my eyes and he turns around looking as if I slapped him.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING CRY! YOU WERE THE ONE WHO SAID LETS WAIT TO GO PUBLIC! THAT WAS ALL YOU! I ASKED. I FUCKING BEGGED AND YOU REASONED WITH THE FANS. THOSE SAME DAMN FANS LIKE THE ONE I GAVE A HUG TO YESTERDAY! AND THEN YOU COME AT ME LIKE THIS?! I TRY TO GIVE YOU EVERYTHING! I’M IN KOREA BUSTING MY ASS FOR YOU! GRINDING FOR YOU. FOR US! HOW DO YOU THINK I FEEL!? WHEN YOU DO TAKE PICS WITH GUYS OR GIRLS IN JUST THEIR UNDERWEAR NOT SHOWING ANYTHING WITH THEIR HANDS ALL OVER YOU?!? ONLY I SHOULD BE ALOUD TO TOUCH YOU LIKE THAT! AND YET. YOU GET MAD ME BECAUSE I GRABBED HER like this?!” He ask resting his hand on the small of my back. I didn’t even notice him approaching me until he had his hand on me. I look up at him my heart beating fast from the way he’s staring at me. I can’t even look at him in the eyes. He sighs heavily wrapping both arms around my waist and grabbing my ass. I moan putting my hands on his chest trying to act like I’m not all that affected by what he’s doing to me. He raises his hand up to grab my chin making me look at him in his eyes. He rubs his thumb over my bottom lip and I part them for him.

“Daddy is so disappointed in you baby girl.” He says. I open my mouth to say I was sorry since guilt washed in that he was indeed right. But as soon as I try to say something he puts his finger to my lips silencing me.

“I don’t wanna hear you speak right now. Daddy is here now and it’s time for me to put you back in your place.” He says deeply. I groan as he backs from me grabbing my hand pulling me behind him upstairs. Each step is slow and I feel my heart hammer harder in my chest almost drumming in my ears.

When we get upstairs we go into my room and he shuts the door locking it. He lets my hand go and looks down at me. His eyes rake over my body and he licks his lips slowly. He walks behind me wrapping his arms around my waist pressing himself flush against me. He sweeps my hair to the side kissing my ear before he whispers in my ear.

“What does daddy expect from you when he gets home?” He asks sucking at my weak spot on my neck. I moan and he pinches my thigh hard bruising the skin.

“O-on the bed. On my hands and knees.” I say and he lets me go. I look up at him and he nods his head slowly. I walk over to the bed about to get on it but Namjoon stops me.

“As much as I like that outfit I want you to take off the shirt and shorts. Leave your socks on.” He says. I nod my head turning around to him looking down as I reach for my shirt my skin heating.

“Look at me when I do it. No my eyes jagiya.” He says softly but I can hear his dominance in the tone as well.

I sigh and I look at him holding eye contact my heart beating triplets as I take my shirt off still staring at him. I trail my hands down to the button on my shorts as he releases a deep sigh and I can see him poking through his pants. I try to keep his eye contact but my hands keep slipping because I’m already sweating so much. I look down at my shorts and I whine when he says my name in a threatening tone. I look up at him shaking my head.

“I-I can’t do it daddy. Please help me.” I say and he gives me a tiny smirk before he comes up to me. He pulls me to him roughly his hands hook around the front of my shorts.

He undoes my button as his brown eyes stare deep into my soul and he unzips it slowly making me release a gasp as he fingers brush over my panties. He drops to his knees slowly still keeping eye contact with me as he pulls my shorts all the way off and takes my feet out of them placing them beside us next to my shirt. He kisses up my body kissing my pussy through my panties and I finally have to break eye contact to keep myself from cumming.

“Do you know what you do to daddy?” He asks me licking my bottom lip but before I can even try to kiss him he moves back shaking his head and I whine.

“You were so mean to daddy. I don’t think I should have mercy on you. What do you think?” He asks me grabbing hard on my lace black panties. I squeal softly looking up at him.

“No mercy daddy.” I say softly.

He throws me on the bed hoovering over me grabbing my lips in a rough heated kiss. He pushes his hand against my throat choking me a bit as the kiss depends. He makes me drop my jaw with his thumb and he slips his tongue into my mouth quickly stating dominance. He grinds down into me, my legs wrapping around his waist as I grind back up. He sucks at my tongue slow and deliberately trying to make it to where I need breath. He flicks his tongue over the rough off my mouth tracing the ridges. He licks over my teeth and bites my tongue before he pulls back our spit connecting our lips still.

He releases my throat looking down at me as he takes off his tank top throwing it to the ground revealing those nice smooth abs that every girl wants to see. He sits on the bed and pats his knee. I groan climbing to him and he places me over his left knee his hand groping and grabbing my ass. I bite into the covers with anticipation.

He brings his hand down roughly against my skin spanking me repeatedly. I feel the multiple stings on my ass cheeks as he continues to whoop me. He stops after a few minutes sliding my panties to the side pushing a finger deep inside of me.

“Don’t you dare moan yet or I will stop.” He says brushing his finger against my spot. I jerk forward a cry leaving my lips and he smacks my ass slamming me on my back looking at me.

“H-How can I not m-moan and your fucking with my spot!” I yell and he softens up a bit pulling me to his lap. I straddle his waist as I look down at him.

He pushes his finger into my mouth and I moan around the digit tasting myself. He unclips my bra with one hand pulling it from me and throwing it on the ground. He fixes me to where I’m on his knee and he removes his finger as he sucks at my neck again leaving more hickeys.

“Ride my knee baby.” He says softly.

I nod my head starting to grind my pussy against his knee as he cups my breast with his hands kissing and licking on them. I throw my head back in pleasure moans leaving my lips back to back as he closes his mouth around my left nipple first flicking that skilled tongue against the bud. He pulls on it with his teeth as well as nibble on it as his other hand plays and teases my free nipple. I grind harder against his knee feeling my wetness leak out but I don’t care at this point I just want him to fuck me. He releases my left nipple trailing kisses to my right one and repeating the same process. One of his hands slide up and down my spine as he sucks harder on my breast making me release more moans and shake under him.

He lets my nipple go placing me back on my back as he kisses down my body. He spreads my legs wide his eyes looking at the socks that reach up to my knees.

“Your so fucking sexy like this. I think it’s my turn to take my own photo’s of you for my collection.” I watch in horror as he pulls his touch screen out taking pictures of my naked body. I try to cover my breast and he looks down at me with warning. I whine raising my arms above my head letting him take more pics of me. He rolls me over placing my head down and my ass in the air taking more pictures of me as he slaps and kneads my ass.

He slides me back on my back placing his phone besides me as he shreds the panties off my body. I watch him lean down his head inches from my pussy as he looks up at me. He slides his tongue up and down my slit slowly and I grab the sheets looking down at him. He flicks his tongue against my clit repeatedly sucking on it. He nibbles on it and I hear him taking off his own pants and boxers. He slides his tongue inside my pussy and I moan his name loudly my hands finding themselves threading in his soft hair. He moans sticking his tongue deeper inside of me making my eyes roll back as he touches my spot softly with his tongue.

“D-daddy! H-haa! I-I’m so s-sorry!” I whine my eyes rolling back as he continues to eat out at my insides. He hums using his thumb to play with my clit as the other hand holds my waist down to keep me from squirming. He pulls back looking down at me a wicked grin on his lips as he leans over kissing me more. He pulls back after a bit his hands slowly drawing patterns on my thighs.

“If your sorry prove it. Use your mouth.” He says standing up and I see his angry red member. I sigh and he laughs at my expression beckoning me with his hand.

“All of it can fit in your mouth if you breathe through your nose.” I roll my eyes at him crawling over to face his leaking member.

I dart my tongue out licking away the precum. I look up at him and he’s biting his lips hard. I slide my mouth over his tip sucking harshly on it flicking my tongue though his slit. He throws his head back in pleasure as I take more of him in my mouth breathing through my nose. He hits the back of my throat and I let him rest there taking him in fully once before I pull back. He shivers as the cold air hits his flesh making me smirk a bit before I go back to sucking him off.

He laces his fingers in my hair snapping his hips into my mouth. He starts fucking my throat and I let him as I hollow my cheeks flicking my tongue against his veins. He goes faster fucking my throat raw. I groan humming around his length sending vibrations through him making him moan my name slowly. I feel him pulsate in my mouth repeatedly. I look up at him and he smirks down at me pushing himself back down my throat and it takes everything I have not to gag or choke. I swallow around him once and he cums in my mouth shooting his load down my throat. I groan swallowing it all as I pull off of his length slowly making sure I get up everything.

Namjoon walks into the closet and comes back with a clear butt plug. I whine and look off not wanting that thing no where near me. He sucks on it climbing on the bed pushing me on my back. He spreads my legs wide sliding it out of his mouth and pushing it slowly into my ass. I claw at the sheets looking up at him as he pushes it inch by inch inside of me. He holds my legs open for a bit just admiring the thing inside of me before he pulls on it making me whine softly.

He hooks his arms under my legs sliding his length up and down my slit biting my jaw. He groans softly poking at my entrance. He pushes in a bit. And pulls out. Pushes in a bit and pulls out getting me just the right amount of frustrated. He finally kisses me as he pushes all off his length inside my tight pussy one hand back at my throat as the other one holds my waist steady. He buries himself fully inside of me nibbling on my bottom lip before he lets go looking down at me. He pulls out and pushes his length slowly back into me. I place my legs around his waist trapping him close to my body. He groans grabbing my neck tighter before he starts to slowly thrust into me repeatedly. He slides me up until my head is hanging over the side of the bed he places both hands on opposites sides of my head holding the sides of the mattress burying his face in my neck as he pounds deeper and harder into my dripping pussy.

“GOD NAMJOON!” I cry digging my nails into his back tracing them up and down his back as he continues to slowly pound into me. My legs spread wide pressed against the mattress as he slides deeper into my pussy and I bite into his shoulder my voice shaking with pleasure. He moans my name deeply and that makes my stomach churn more as he continues thrusting into me.

I look up at him my hands grabbing at his locks as he continues to rock his hips into me. He grinds deep into me and he raises one leg above his shoulder pushing deeper and harder into me. He bites into my inside thigh pounding harder into me rolling his hips to hit my spot dead on.

“FUCK!” I scream out and he grabs one of my breast pounding harder into me. I grab onto his biceps dragging my nails down him and he groans placing both of my knees against my chest. He pulls out and slams back in hitting my spot and all I can think to do is cry out his name. He drives into me hard and fast making sure I feel every thrust every stroke of his dick inside of my pussy. The noise of skin slapping against skin sounds off in the room and I grab my ankles not knowing what else to hold onto. He leans over kissing me as he pinches my clit.

He picks me up holding me in his arms as he pounds up into me and I lock my hands around his neck. He drives into my spot harder and harder every thrust bringing me closer to my release.

“Are you going to cum for daddy?” He asks and I nod my head biting his bottom lip and he groans smirking a bit.

“Good girl.” He says softly. He places me against a wall one leg around his neck as the other goes back around his waist and my body slides up and down the wall as he fucks me like a rag doll.

“AHH! I’M C-CLOSE DADDY!” I cry out tangling my hands back in his hair as he continues to fuck me into oblivion.

“That’s right you little slut. Come all over daddy’s dick.” I groan as he says other little nasty nothings into my ear. i feel myself squeeze my pussy around his dick. He rubs my clit hard before he pulls it between his fingers.

“NAMJOONNN!” I cry out my eyes rolling into the back of my head as I cum. My orgasm hitting me hard and fast. He moans biting my bottom lip as his thrusts become erratic and sloppy.

“—-!” He shouts my name filling me to the brim and holding me against the wall as he makes sure to fill me up. He pants a bit both of our hearts racing and he carries me to the bed laying on his back as he lets me get on top. He stays buried inside of me and I look down at him. I reach around trying to take the plug out and he stops me.

“Don’t you dare.” He warns. I pout trying again and he flips me on my back.

He pulls out of me and slams back into me slapping my ass.

“Nonononono!” I whine feeling sore turned on and much much tired.

“Yes.” He says leaning down to bite my nipple.

“Rub your clit.” He demands.

I do as told rubbing my clit with my hand my toes curling up as I rub in time with his thrust. He circles his hips deep inside of me grinding against me his hips connecting to mine each time he pounds into me. His balls slap my ass as he thrusts harder into me. I try to take my hand from my clit and he grabs the back of my wrist making me keep it there as he looks down at me. My leg slides back up his chest resting on his shoulder and he bites my ankle making me moan.

“I’M GOING TO FUCKING CUM!” I shout my body starting to convulse and squirm under this man as I feel my second orgasm approaching.

“Daddy wants to wreck his little girl.” He says adding his hand on top of mine making me rub my clit harder. He groans as he throbs and gets close to his second orgasm as well.

“DADDY!!” I cry out my eyes watering from my second orgasm being so powerful and stinging a bit.

“FUCK baby!” Namjoon moans filling me up again. I feel the warm liquid sliding back into me and some spilling out into the sheets. He thrusts into me a bit more before he pulls out. He finally slides the butt plug out of me and he places it on the bed. He sighs going to the bathroom getting me a clean towel cleaning me off as he kisses my face and cheeks. After he cleans me up he places the sheets in the washer and as soon as I try to help I feel the burn from my pussy and my ass. He sighs picking me up and placing me on the night stand until he finishes cleaning up. He smirks at me coming back to get me and we lay under the covers together as he plays in my hair pulling me to lay on his chest.

“You got to stop with that attitude. You know I only love you.” Namjoon says kissing my forehead.

“Blame Nina.” I whine my ass still feeling abused in a good way.

“Didn’t Nina also want to date me? But I choose you. And YOU decided to stay friends with that thing.” He says and I pinch his nipple.

“She keeps me company!” I try to reason looking down at him both of us yawning.

“Well this week I’m keeping you company.” He says kissing my lips.

“But I’m sore!”

“And every time you piss daddy off you will be sore.” He says silencing my once again with those pretty pink lips.

DannyMay Day Twenty Seven: Phantom Planet Alternate OP / Alternate ED

…Furious can’t even begin to describe how she feels. It’s a tornado of emotions powerful enough to shake her to her core. So she takes a deep breath and makes the logical and rational decision.

She flying kicked him in the face.

The planet is saved. Thank goodness. That was probably the scariest twenty four hours of her life. she watches as all the other ghosts fly off the intangibility machine and into the portal. She definitely owes Phantom several apologies. An evil ghost would never do something on this grand a scale just to throw people off. He lands in the snow.

Everyone present swarms him. She finds it a bit strange that Manson and Foley are the first to greet him, and with such familiarity. But even more disorienting is the warmness with which the Fentons greet him. She thought they hated all ghosts with a passion. They say something to him she can’t hear. Then there’s a bright flash of light.

A ring of light appears at Phantom’s waist. She doesn’t think much of it, she’s seen him do that on occasion, right before he disappears. This time though, the ring splits in two and starts to travel up and down his body. She’s only slightly startled by that, but the nagging sense of apprehension won’t leave her alone.

As the rings travel up and down she sees a familiar pair of jeans and red trimmed tee shirt. Her pulse skyrockets. Danny Fenton. Danny Phantom. They’re the same person. Her brain overloads. All higher function ceases. It’s not possible. There’s no way. WHAT THE FUCK!?

The first to hit is the horror of what this revelation implies. This whole time she’s been hunting down the only real friend she has. LIKE A FUCKING ANIMAL. She’s says so many horrible things to him. Done so many painful things. She’s almost killed him on more than one occasion. Even after everything she did to him he still smiled at her in school. Still hung out with her. She feels like garbage.

Then the unbridled rage surfaces. How DARE he keep her in the dark about this. How could he just let her do all those horrible things. He knew she was the Red Huntress and he still kept her in the dark! He let her blast him out of the sky, let her capture him and torture him. She can’t hear the people clapping and cheering over the blood roaring in her ears.

She notices her father taking two slow steps back and away from her. He’s got good sense. She can feel her entire body shaking with rage. Her blood boiling hot under her skin. Even her suit is buzzing in the back of her consciousness. She begins her angry march over to the skinny, ghostly bastard.

As she’s making her way over to him the crowd parts like the Red Sea. Everyone can sense the murderous intent rolling off of her. He probably has a danger meter because it looks like he nearly gives himself whiplash trying to look over at her. She starts running.

He had no time to react and she doesn’t care. She jumps and performs a perfect flying kick aimed right at his face. She makes contact. The resounding thud is satisfying. She kicked him so hard that he reverted back into ghost form. She’s not sorry. He crashes into a heap of limbs and skids a good four feet. She lands Iron Man style, standing triumphantly over the idiot of a ghost boy. He stirs, holding his swollen, bruised and bleeding chin, he looks at her.

She’s glaring at him with so much intensity he recoils slightly. The typhoon of emotions she sees in his eyes just makes her angrier. He better say something quick or she’s gonna test out a new blaster on him.

“…yeah, I deserved that”

“You’re damn right you did! C'mon, we’re gonna have a long talk that may or may not result in me breaking all of your bones”

Creepypasta #1183: A Dish Best Served Cold

Length: Short

Robert was your typical arrogant co-worker - at least to me. Obnoxious. Narcissistic. Condescending.

He always went out of his way to target and degrade me in the same manner that a school bully would. Be it through snide remarks in front of colleagues, or by ‘mistakenly’ knocking over my papers, or even 'accidentally’ spilling coffee all over my reports.

Of course reporting the harassment was out of the question. With him being Robert’s uncle, I’m sure any attempt to bring it up to my boss would backfire horribly.

So I was forced to endure. Until I eventually snapped. I was in the break room making myself a fresh mug of coffee. Just as I reached into the cabinet, it was slammed shut, crushing my fingertips with it. I stifled a yelp and held back a river of hot, pain-induced tears.

In my shock and confusion, I heard a the same mocking voice that taunted me on a constant basis sneer. “Oh, I'm so sorry”. I didn’t even see your hand there.“ I whipped my head around to see Robert walking away with a smirk, heading towards another co-worker, sending her unsolicited flirtations.

Suddenly, my white-hot pain was converted into white-hot rage. My shaking hands became wet and sticky from the blood trickling out of my fingertips. I rushed over to the sink to get bandages, cursing under my breath.

Once I finished, I was walking out, when I dropped my bandages, and stopped to pick them up. Just as I began to continue out, I heard water running from the faucet and turned around to see Robert washing his hands. I then heard the clink of metal hitting the basin as he let out an expletive.

"My wedding ring…” he whined. That’s right, he was married. As he reached his hand down the drain, a sinister thought crossed mind.

I looked over to the panel by the doorway. 'Light Switch’. 'Ceiling Fan’. 'Air Conditioning’.

'Garbage Disposal’.

No… I couldn’t…

The thought echoed in my head. As I was internalizing my moral dilemma, I didn’t realize I was staring at Robert. We locked eyes. He gave me a dirty look. 

“Why don’t you take a picture? It’ll last longer.” He paused, before mumbling, some 'critiques’ regarding my appearance. He then erupted in laughter for a good minute, before returning to his task.

It was then that I was hit with a wave of flashbacks. All the taunting. The mocking. The humiliation. All of the pent up grief, anger and frustration. This was the breaking point.

I slowly flicked the switch, before walking out the door.

I rushed out of there, not turning back at the sound of the disposal whirring to life. Or the sound of Robert’s shrieks of agony. I didn’t stop as I heard my fellow employees and employers alike rushing to the scene of the commotion.

As the sounds of ripping fabric and joints crushing echoed in the hallway, a silent grin crept its way onto my face.

Credits to: YKGem (story)