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#asphyxia tw
ceceliaknowsbest · 9 months
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Cece: [Interrogation] Cecelia! You mean to tell me you never knew of the actions of Woof? God, apparently you two were so close. It seems odd you were unaware of both your husband and someone who was your mentor, doesn't it?
Cecelia felt like she kept saying the same things over and over again but nobody ever listened. How many times did she need to tell them that they kept her out of their plans? That Woof hadn't let her in.
"It's not odd," she said brokenly as she tried to catch her breath. The interrogations were somehow worse when she couldn't see the person asking the questions. Their voice was so loud and her head was spinning from the lack of oxygen. "They wanted to protect me...Woof always wanted to protect me. Sterling always wanted to protect me. They didn't tell me because they knew I didn't feel the same way." Cecelia couldn't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks.
All of Sterling and Woof's late nights when she went to bed suddenly made sense, but she still wasn't willing to tell them about that. It made her look complicit even though she was anything but complicit. "Let me go...please....I didn't know anything."
"You expect us to believe that? You are linked to at least five known rebels, Mrs. Whitvale. Maybe you need another round to jog your memory. All those kids must have hurt your memory."
She didn't have any time to say anything before the oxygen was sucked from the room.
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heirbane · 1 year
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"you look good with my hands around your throat" Gaius x Your WOL
It was a game. It all was, wasn't it?
She had scarcely pulled the washroom door shut behind her when his hand encircled her throat. It was slow, as it oft began: testing the waters, giving her time to decide she wasn't quite in the mood to play. The wall behind her was slick with condensation as the fire crystals in the bathwater bubbled, warming it so thoroughly it nearly seemed to boil.
Even if she had something witty to say in response, it was snuffed out under the breadth of his palm. She could feel the callouses on his fingertips on the back of her neck, the blood pumping in even time under his well-placed thumb.
Her lips began to tingle. One bare leg fumbled, attempting to get purchase against his thigh to bolster herself. For a glimmer of a moment, she had relief: he hoisted her by her thigh, bringing her up off the ground by several ilms and relieving some of the strain she felt.
It did not last long.
Her tail eloped his scarred wrist, the serrated scales and the jewelry adorning the thorned ends digging into the thickened, mangled skin. He didn't have much sensation there anymore, she knew. But the stillness of his body betwixt her legs told her he had just enough to feel it coil, the thorned end sharp and dangerous against his flesh.
This was a dance they were familiar with, a waltz they took turns leading. She had nearly killed him once, and she had nearly perished on more than one occasion, the both of them brought back from the brink of death's sea just as the taste of saltwater touched their tongues.
They flirted with dying more than each other, a controlled free fall. They were as afraid of each other as they were death.
It had claimed neither of them yet. And so they danced, feet dipping into the shores of dark waters, teasing, coaxing.
The pinpricks of adrenaline began to seep in. Her knees dug into his hips, the tip of her tongue as blue as her lips were becoming. He watched her eyelashes flutter as she struggled to keep wholly cognizant, the rings that encircled her irises a shade of midnight as they stared at each other.
Her tail tightened around his wrist. The warmth of blood trickled onto her thigh, so startling and unexpected that her eyes flashed open and her heel sank into his back - once, twice, a third time.
The gasp that tore from her chest had her small torso nearly against his. Her tail unraveled from it's serpentine grip. Even as her chest heaved, desperate to rid the static from her mind and the numbness in her limbs, a shaking hand came to wipe at the bloody slices in his forearm.
"I'm -"
"Quiet."
He didn't give her much of a choice. She was still sucking in gulps of air when his lips met hers, a wolf that had smelled blood and was desperate to gorge on it, to play with the food he had trapped so deliciously.
Her bath would still be warm whenever they finished, he knew, and be needed more then than now.
It would have to wait.
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merveiilles · 2 years
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NON-RP BLOGS/NON-MUTUALS. DO. NOT. INTERACT (you will be blocked on sight.) Do not use for gif.hunts please :D The.Nevers: Augie's characterization in 1A vs 1B!
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mjfass · 13 days
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The end of BCC - All Out, 2024
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Whump Potluck!
To celebrate 400 followers (!!!! What?!??), I encourage everyone to share a recipe for their favorite whump scenarios. And, because everyone always has more than one favorite (I know I do!), share another recipe! And another if you like! Not only does this get the info-nugget out of your brain, but you could find others who enjoy the same thing and it could even help some struggling writers! Better yet, why not use these delicious recipes as writing prompts? I'll start with my own favorite recipe:
Comfort Can Hurt
Restrained/Handcuffed
Blood loss
Thrilling/Intense rescues
Panicking teammates
Manhandling
Grasping hands (for comfort, to keep from getting separated, trying to break free, etc.)
"Just hold my hand. You're gonna be fine."
Can't breathe/Catch their breath (!!!!!)
Struggling against caretakers because it hurts
"[Name], you need to calm down!"
Involuntary sedation
Can't go wrong with some classy whump tropes, am I right? Here's one more:
Martyrdom Idiot Heroes
Strong/Angry at the world/Distant whumpee (thinks everyone couldn't care less about them)
Pushing past their limits
Self-sacrifice
Gunshot injury
Blood loss
Injury reveal (jacket/coat w/ a white undershirt? (!!!))
Collapsing (with a dash of teammates rushing to catch them)
"It's okay, we've got you."
Sunshine medic turning into angry, no-nonsense medic
Soft/Hazy awakenings (esp. if everyone else is sleeping nearby/standing guard)
Confusion at being coddled
"Pull that stunt again and see what happens."
See?? Delicious. Feel free to contribute or modify recipes to fit your personal tastes <3 no recipe is too niche or too flavorful!
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caesarsprincess · 2 months
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[Content warning: noncon/dubcon]
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Waking up to a pinkish-purple cloud of clinical-scented gas all around me... mmmm, I love it. That wooshing sound other people find annoying is like music to my ears. But when it goes into me - trough one or more orifices - the feeling becomes unexplainable. It's so pleasurable it's almost dangerous. It's not even a dick thrusting into me - it's Caesar Clown, his entire body, and he's forcing me to breathe him. And the feeling of pleasure is all over my body, It's like my entire body is as sensitive as down there when he's inside of me. He can make me float, even. That's the Gas Gas Fruit.
The first couple of times it happened, I was screaming and shrieking in terror, thinking I was gonna die from that feeling. It was actual ear piercing screaming. It has toned down since, and I'm not scared of it happening anymore. Still, he finds it fun to just do it at random times at night. I wake up with him about to go inside me. Sometimes I'm begging him to stop, since even if I find it pleasurable, I can't help but beg for him to stop. It's just become a habit. And he never respects it. Doesn't matter though. I love him, which means I accept anything, really.
But even though his full-body penetration is definitely unbeatable, I still get the urge to just "do it" the normal way. If only he wasn't so goddamn tall.
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thewhumpcaretaker · 7 months
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The Broken Veil: Chapter 5 - Bloodless, Airless
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Image source from Effect Magazine
TW: choking/breathplay, animal death, mental and physical child abuse (flashback to young Jardani)
Summary: John Wick has just agreed to kill Gianna D'Antonio, repaying the marker that gave him a life with Helen. However, Helen is trying to contact John from the afterlife, to show him that it is possible to stop the cycle of violence – not by forfeiting his own life, but by creating a fundamental shift in international systems and perhaps even the balance of good and evil in this world. But he doesn’t have to do it alone. She’s coming back.
“I have to remind myself to breathe—almost to remind my heart to beat!” - Heathcliff, Wuthering Heights
Waking up in Helen’s arms. Waking up with his face still nestled in her hair, with their limbs tangled effortlessly, seamlessly. It wasn’t a dream. She’s here, she’s safe. She’s so beautiful. She’s close to his own half century of age, but filled with the real, timeless beauty of liveliness. Her chest moves up and down and her cheeks are not hollowed with the wasting of her sickness and her flesh has the same healthy vibrancy as when they met. “I’ll do anything it takes,” she said. So will I. He will never allow any harm to come to her again. Ever, even from her own body. If it is possible for her to warp the fabric of reality, then so will he.
The sunrise floods over the balcony, the bedside table, the starched sheets and billowing blankets. He pulls her closer by the waist and nuzzles against her, and she turns in her sleep to embrace him. All of him is fluttering. The alarm is about to start blaring, but John shuts it off and kisses her awake instead. It’s time to get up, and board a plane, and beat this entire world into a shape that will hold her gently.
***
Half a world away, Santino is struggling not to fear death. Something is wrong, Ares should have contacted him by now. It’s at moments like these that his blood runs icy with the knowledge that he could make a wrong move at any moment. I could, but I won’t, he tells himself. No, he’s Santino D’Antonio, he is destined for power, he has a hold on the situation. No, it’s that pathetic dog John Wick who will be snuffed out of existence. He was fool enough to give me a marker. He’s dead no matter what he does. Santino smiles.
Winston’s voice breaks in again. He’s been pressuring Santino ever since Cassian’s report reached him, with the marker ledger open on the table between them. “He completed the task. The marker is over.”
“I want to hear it from my own people.”
“Just mark it, you’re dragging this out for yourself. Ares will be dead by now. Why else-”
Ares walks in. Winston’s breathing stops for an instant. He tries to control his expression but Santino catches the horror that flashes through him.
Ares starts signing. “I fucked up. Wick is alive. The rest of my entourage is dead. I’m sorry.”
“And the target?”
“Also alive. He went all the way to her chambers and then didn’t follow through.”
Santino swears, then stands up and paces. That icy feeling is taking full control, but he refuses to admit it. He glares at Winston. “Seems it’s good that I waited.”
Winston is at a loss for words. He closes the ledger in resignation.
Santino turns and snaps at Ares, “Why didn’t you finish the contract in his place?”
“That wasn’t part of our agreement. Wick was my focus and I stayed on him. No way in hell I’ll take on a target of that profile without a marker of my own.”
“Lot of good that did!” He laughs darkly. “But it doesn’t matter. He’s dead walking.”
Winston’s still there, the damned pest. “You have no idea what’s coming, do you?”
“I have everyone in New York looking for him. I doubt you will see him again. Besides, I still hold the marker. He’s dead if he comes for me.”
“Is that so? You stabbed the devil in the back and forced him back into the life that he had just left. You incinerated the priest’s temple, burned it to the ground. Now that he has nothing left to lose, what do you think he’ll do? He had a glimpse of the other side, and he embraced it. But you, Sr. D’Antonio, took it away from him.”
“He was already back!”
“Oh, he came back for love, not for you.”
“He owed me, I had every right!” Santino takes a step towards him, heated, struggling not to lose his temper at the way Winston is trying to scare him. It’s insulting.
Ares taps loudly on the table until both men look to her. “There’s something else you need to know.” She pauses. “There was a woman with him. I saw her appear out of nothing.”
“I think she answered his phone. Stealth fighter?”
“No. I mean she wasn’t there, and then she was. I know I never looked away.”
Santino shakes his head. “Don’t fuck with me right now.”
“I’m not. This isn’t a joking matter. She took a full clip to the back and didn’t flinch.”
“Well-funded then. Good body armor.” Ares looks like she wants to say something, but she thinks the better of it, so he continues. “Do you know who she is?”
“She claimed to be his wife, Helen Wick. And he claimed she was contacting him from beyond the grave. That’s what he said to Gianna.”
“So you know nothing. Useless.”
Winston has gone strangely pale.
Santino’s patience is fully exhausted. “Fix this within 48 hours or Wick won’t be the only one who’s dead walking.”
On the borderline between obedience and passive aggression, Ares signs, “Ok.”
***
It’s seven million. He might have been too blissful to care last night, but now he cares. He’s shoving the incriminating weaponry from last night into a disposal bag supplied by the hotel (along with a new cell phone), and he’s thinking about his hands around Santino’s throat.
That one bag would give any TSA agent a heart attack, Helen thinks to herself as she watches him dump in another set of knives.
Without looking up, he places information in front of her ears, his voice too monotone to be called speech. “They will swarm us. They’ll go through anyone I’m with to get to me.”
“I’m so sorry. This is an extremely frustrating situation. But I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.”
He continues as if she hasn’t spoken. “When we touch down, I will go to work, and you will take a taxi and go…well I would have sent you to our home, but it has…” He forces out the words, “recently exploded.”
“I know. I saw. But John-”
“So instead you will go to a random location, with some money that I give you, and two days from now we will meet up-“
She steps between him and the door and takes him by the shoulders. “Look at me, and let’s talk for a second.” When he meets her eyes, she continues, “It makes no sense for us to separate. Do you leave your body armor behind when you go into battle? No. I am your body armor now.”
It’s so difficult for him to look at her when he knows she’s about to be attacked because of him. She looks stunning today. And every day. “I never want to think of you as my body armor.”
“Then think of me as your teammate. Your other half. We don’t separate, okay?”
Fine then. I’ll just kill them all. Anyone who touches her. “…Okay.”
She relaxes, and opens the hotel room door. He shakes his head, amazed at her calm, and guides her down the hallway, his hand on the small of her back. She’s in black lace, a superb Valentino cocktail dress, and the heat of her skin through the fabric only amplifies his protective rage.
“Do they serve breakfast on the flight?” she asks.
“We’re taking a private jet. They serve anything you like.”
“Good. You should eat something. You’ve been pacing around all morning.”
“What about you? Do you…eat?”
She thinks for a moment and replies, “I’m not hungry, but I’m not repulsed by the idea. I imagine I could if I wanted to.”
Once they’ve boarded, he orders her favorite breakfast of French toast and strawberries. He hasn’t forgotten. Even though there’s no hunger, it feels good to eat again, especially while flying over the sunlit Spanish countryside, reclining on quilted leather. She savors every sensation. But she can’t help being a little distracted by the anger still coursing through him, intensified by black coffee.
When she’s done, he clears his throat. “So how does the invulnerability work? Is it just bullets, or all forms of damage? Knives, for example?”
“The rocks didn’t cut my feet when I was running barefoot last night.”
“What if someone put you in a chokehold? Do you need oxygen to the brain?”
“I’m not sure.”
“…We’ll need to know very soon.”
“Well in that case, let’s test it.”
“I-what?”
“You could choke me.”
***
“Choke me, John.”
They were on her couch, after having dinner with her friends. He already had a hand up her skirt and towered above her with a knee pressed into either side of her hips.
He hesitated. “What if I don’t want to?”
“Then you don’t have to, silly.” She dropped the playfulness for a moment. “Is that not something that appeals to you?”
“No.” He’d suddenly gone very stiff, and not in the ideal places.
“That’s okay. Hey, I’m sorry if I brought up something unpleasant. It’s not important what we do. Being with you is enough.”
He laid back against the cushions, clearly trying to push the “something unpleasant” out of his thoughts and failing. He managed to say, “Your friends would be pretty shocked to hear me refuse that request.”
Helen laughed. Her friend Mindy had made a risqué joke about how wild he must be in bed. Like everyone else, she was taken in by his imposing figure, his rumblingly deep voice, his confident motions and the vice grip that closed too tight on the back of Helen’s chair when someone made her uncomfortable. “You are far sweeter than you let on with other people. I understand and I love that about you.”
“You don’t understand. It’s not just that I have a taste for…gentler forms of intimacy. And I don’t…I don’t mean to say that aggression can’t be sweet.” He was having trouble speaking. She waited. “I don’t want that image in my head. Of my hands around your neck. Not ever. If you understood what that image means to me…that act and you don’t belong in the same world.”
“Then help me understand.” But that wouldn’t be the night he told her. After his first refusal, she let it drop and just tried to bring him back to himself. She didn’t yet know exactly what was bothering him so much. She knew only enough to make out that there was violence in his past, and perhaps in his present, and that was enough to make her concerned for him.
It was also enough to teach her how to interact with him. She learned quickly that they could be rough together, he could take her hard and fast, he was honored by her trust in him. But any play that placed her in the role of masochist at best turned him off and at worst sent him spiraling. It wasn’t that he lacked dominance. It wasn’t that he didn’t want power over her body. It was just that power never seemed to translate into violence. Not even play-pretend violence. Not with her, even if she wanted it. Violence…that was reserved for others.
***
“Choke him, Jardani. Until he’s dead.”
The little boy refused to let his voice break. “I don’t want to.” He was about ten, though he doesn’t remember exactly now.
The Director repeated his words, tutting. “You don’t want to. Tsk.” She had placed a viper in the cage with his pet pigeon. He grabbed him quickly enough, and clutched him just below the base of the skull between his fingers. But he was being trained as an assassin, and assassins do not just grab their prey to hold it firmly by the base of the skull. “Then let him go back in the cage.”
“I would like…to put him outside.”
She laughed uproariously. “That’s not one of the options I’m giving you. Sometimes, life doesn’t give you any options you like, boy. Kill him, or let him go back in the cage and eat his fill.”
He could feel the snake’s strangely malleable throat thrumming against his flesh as he turned his head and flicked his tongue, desperate to escape. Jardani hesitated.
“Too late.” The Director smacked his wrist, hard, forcing his fingers to splay open. The viper fell back to the floor of the birdcage, momentarily stunned. She closed it and dragged him away, his arms twisted together behind his back in a single one of her hands. “Stand still and watch.” He let his body go slack and she released him. The viper, rapidly recovering its strength, sprung forward and sunk fangs into the fluffy white breast that Jardani had so often cradled to his cheek. Red, seeping from the wound. Her body, thrashing as if in seizure. And The Director, standing above him.
In a moment of blind rage, he lunged at her throat. He was already well trained enough to make contact with her collarbone before she flipped him to the ground. Panting above him, she praised his outburst. “Good. You’ll do so well in this world.”
“I loved that bird,” he grunted from underneath her shoulder, seething. “She was my friend.”
“Love? I’ll tell you what love is. Love is a stranger’s body hitting the floor. We kill strangers so we don’t have to kill the ones we love. If you love anything in this world, kill the first thing that tries to take it from you. An enemy, a bystander, even someone you are sworn to. It doesn’t matter. Kill, without hesitation. That is love. If you loved her, that’s what you would have done.”
***
“I don’t want to choke you. I want to choke the people who would ever try to choke you. You know that.”
“You don’t have to. But I want to put it on the table. You’re not doing violence against me, you’re getting information to protect me. And you won’t hurt me, things are different from when I was alive. I think there would be some value in understanding viscerally that I can’t be harmed. I can see you spiraling, John. You’re afraid for me. I don’t want that to run you right now.”
He sighs, considering.
Again, “You don’t have to. I could just hold my breath.”
He glances around, checking for any sign of the flight attendant, but the coast is clear. Finally, he takes her hand and places it over his left wrist. “If you feel yourself losing consciousness, tap.”
The light from the jet’s porthole is pouring across them, warming them both with the brilliance of white clouds stretching into an endless beyond. As he leans forward, his shadow falls over her, creating a patch of chill, as slivers of sun burn white at the edges of his dark hair. Slowly, his free hand moves to her neck. Her eyes are locked onto his, completely peaceful and trusting. She’s so fragile, and his palm is massive. There’s the small lump of her voice box, the hard but so-brittle ridges of the cervical spine. He knows where to press to shatter them. His thumb on one side and fingers on the other find the pulse of her carotid arteries, and gradually they squeeze, severing blood flow. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Her face is white but completely alert, still smiling at him in reassurance.
His touch feels so strange, dizzying and cold but completely incapable of rendering her unconscious. He’s so powerful. She can feel his pulse too, through his fingertips. He’s shaking in every part of his body except this arm, where he maintains perfect control of his muscles, terrified to slip and hurt her.
Severed blood flow does nothing then. What about total asphyxiation? It doesn’t really add anything, but now that he’s here… Another slow, small movement compresses her trachea.
She can feel the walls of her throat touch together. Thirty seconds. Forty seconds. Sixty seconds. Ninety seconds. Seconds stretch into minutes. She’s not breathing at all. But she basks in the pressure of his touch, and the way his emotions are gradually changing in flavor. He hasn’t realized it yet, but he’s hard, and she can feel it. The blood that can’t reach her brain is pounding in her pelvis.
She’s still beaming up at him, her lips slightly parted. He realizes that he hasn’t been breathing much either and exhales in relief. There is her life, in his hand, her bloodless, airless, undead, unkillable, willful life. And there’s nothing he can do that will go wrong, and even if there was, he would not do it. His hand is not murdering her. It’s framing her face, adorning her like a necklace, hugging her, supporting and directing her head. It looks good on her. So affectionate, pressing into her so deeply. Expressing his love for her without killing. He feels strong, he feels beautiful, he feels in control of himself. He feels almost worthy of her trust. This…this is what she wanted to show him.
With her hand still resting gently on his wrist, and her smile still radiant, he leans forward and tilts her mouth to his.
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catnykit · 9 months
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whump idea #1
woods+maggots+insanity? Not a good deal.
"Your stories are messed up" darling before knowing the whump community they were FUCKED UP,Now atleast I have to put a fucking category....
TW: READ THE TAGS.
I remember having this daydream/idea about one of my characters lost in the forest and having a "mindless episode"(i dont know,It could be psychosis,Drunkness,absolute and raw insanity,starvation,Delirium,mind control,You call it) but they find this weird ass pile of maggots. And eat it. And this was horrible because the maggots quickly squirm and start sparcing throught the MC's body like a virus. Tearing apart organs and tissue inside-to-outside. They start to feel sick in only some minutes after their conciousness come back. This alredy sounds enough agonazing,But to stress it even more,They were lost in the middle of nowhere,Their whimpers and struggles falling on deaf ears. They are supposed to die slowly and alone... BUT but,the good or worst part is the fact that,they didnt died like that!!! some maggots for some reason decided to go for the throat and lungs because Idfk they liked it there🤷‍♀️. so,Instead of getting eated alive painfully slowly they instead suffocate to death. Yes And,To stress this EVEN MORE is the fact that,No matter what was it,The "mindless episode" is a signal of probabily mentally unwell. Someone enough psychologically injured to go savague on the woods and dies in an HORRIBLE way,Without no one to help them. And even if someome did save them,This psycologicall injury would make it harder for anyone to help,ESPECIALLY if the deranged person is agressive even in great pain. So yeah,Thanks for coming to my ted talk about this whump daydream of long ago :3
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ceceliaknowsbest · 9 months
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[Propo] What did you endure at the hands of The Capitol when being held captive?
When Cecelia had been asked to do a Propo she had wanted to tell them no.
But she didn't feel like she could actually say no, so she said nothing instead. She didn't say anything as the prep team did her makeup and her hair and she tried to ignore that it felt familiar. How many times since she won her Games had she been prepped for something? If it wasn't for Waking up with the Whitvales than it was for an interview with Caesar or some other member of the press. Or it was to get ready for a meeting with a 'client'.
The thought made her sick. Cecelia very much wanted to forget everything that had happened to her.
The lights nearly blinded her as she stood in front of the camera, looking very uncomfortable. That was a change for her. As much as she hated this kind of thing, she had never allowed herself to look like she hated it. That would be dangerous. Was it still dangerous even in Thirteen? Cecelia wasn't sold on any of it.
She very nearly almost laughed when they asked her the question. If she had known that this was what they wanted her to talk about she would have said no. She wasn't ready to talk about it. But she looked at Sterling, standing off to the side, and felt reassured that he would be there for her.
"There was a room," she finally started speaking, her eyes haunted and her voice quiet. "We all had a different room where the Capitol would torture us. At first, it was for information on the Rebels. But when they realized that I knew nothing the torture was for sport or for punishment."
Cecelia took a deep breath. "The room that they brought me to...I would be strapped down and all of the oxygen would be sucked out of the room. Over and over again. For what felt like hours. But that wasn't the worst part. The hunger and the beatings...they weren't the worst part. No. The worst part was President Snow lied and said he had my son." Tears started to stream down her face. "I believed that Snow had my son and was going to give him to another family and erase his memory. I spoke to a voice that I believed to be my son. President Snow paraded some Capitol child around pretending to be my son."
"Victors are strong. I have always believed that I was stronger than anything the Capitol and President Snow could throw at me. But I am not so sure anymore. I have already begun to heal from the physical toll of captivity, but healing from believing that my son was in danger and being helpless to stop it...that's going to take a lot longer."
Quiet sobs began to wrack her body. "I'm done," She told them in a choked voice, before walking away from the cameras and to her husband.
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merveiilles · 2 years
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(Non-Rp Blogs / Non-Mutuals DO. NOT. INTERACT. You will be blocked on sight. DO NOT USE IN GIF HUNTS OR OTHER PERSONAL PROJECTS WITHOUT PERMISSION.)
The.Nevers First and Last Episode;; How It Started vs How It Ended!
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jaylleoo14 · 5 months
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A little Azul brainrot I got when I was thinking about the lion funnily enough
(If you want to be more fully immersed try listening to “My September” by Nastyona :D it really set the mood for me and vibed nicely along throughout the read<3 It may be a difficult read but keep in mind that there are two separate things going on at the same time and it goes back in fourth.) 
Amnesiac Asphyxia- Azul drabble
TW: slight gore, Amnesia, stalking, obsessive behaviors, manipulation, implied power abuse, drugging. All characters are aged up and this is a work of fiction
Thinking of something where you're on your way to go get groceries but then suddenly you get into a car crash. Waking up in the hospital you find yourself with a nurse and a complete stranger across from you. With a sigh of relief the nurse quickly leaves the room to inform the other doctors and nurses while you're left in a state of confusion as to what's going on. The light from the window looked shallow and a low contrast of clear yellow, the room looking clean with tile pattern walls, a pattern of scorpion grasses decorating the border of the room. A light breeze falls through and makes the blue-to-white curtains swift in the air. You can hear noises of carts and wheels being heard and the sound of cars leaving and coming outside the window. To the corner of the room near the window you spot a man sitting on a cushioned chair. He looked so pale and worn out, few bandages scattered across his face. Suddenly, the man gets up and goes over to you, hugging your hand with the most tear relieved smile ever. You could feel that his warmth seemed to radiate a sense of relief in this mellow room you both were in while your eyes adjusted to the light of the room. 
"What... Happened? What's going on here?" Barely managing to let out a clear voice, raspy and lower than usual from the lack of using it constantly for it to sound like how it did consistently before the accident. 
Your head is throbbing and your body is in so much pain, the feeling of your aches soaring through your bedridden state. "Ah everything's alright my love. I'm so glad that we could get you to the hospital quickly enough. I'm so happy you're alive, my angelfish." His voice was so shaky, so full of emotion yet it was as if he was holding himself back from letting it all out. 
Noticing your hand is being tenderly squeezed as it lays beside you, you give him a look of hard confusion. "Who are you?" Your voice sounds on edge and nervous, unsure of who this man could be. It soars and scratches against your neck as you speak, feeling pain reverberating hoarsely.  So suddenly calling you all these pet names in such a comfortable manner. His expression displays one of shock and distraught, his grip on your hand loosening as if at a loss. Outside, the trees sway from a light breeze, yet so many leaves fall down. The breeze, although light, comes hitting in for a long and continuous time; the curtains moving in motion as it dances along to the music the wind provides and the melody of your interaction plays out.
"Dear? Excuse me? Please be joking right now, you…. You can't be serious, right?" His expression was one of wide eyed horror, getting up closer to you. Flinching back, you withdraw your hands and the nurses and doctors come back into the room. "I don't know who you are sir." Your words of sudden hostility and confusion were like a knife and it looked as if you just physically and visibly stabbed through his chest, and all he can do is just stand there and freeze from the sudden injection. The realization that he was stabbed, not yet registering in his brain. Letting go of the knife, it clattered down on the floor and you looked at him like he was a stranger. Staring back at you, he holds the gaping deep cut of the imprinted knife injury you bestowed upon him while giving you a frozen look.
"Thank goodness you are awake, Mx. (L/N), you were caught in a car accident a couple of hours ago." The doctors are catching you up in the events, but the man standing there is left struck with tears in his eyes. His hands clenched tighter where his heart burns, where blood seeps out of the wound and he looks down to stare at his bloodied hands. Hands that were already stained and tainted.
"Sir? Are you okay? Is everything alright?" One of the nurses comes over and pats his back, but he only comes back up to you and kneels down in front of your bed. He snaps back out of his frozen and dead state, placing his hands firmly on the hand rails making up the bed. The nurses share a look of concern and sympathy, already understanding the situation and feeling of dread he must be feeling at the moment. 
You look at the man continuing to bear those confused eyes, staring at his bandaged face. Those pale lips of his open, as if a pot full of trickery only lied in them. "I'm… Azul.” A moment of silence as he pauses to recollect his voice, a hardened look in his eyes as he stares at you in a heartbroken manner. “Azul Ashengrotto. Your boyfriend."
"If it weren't for your boyfriend then we wouldn't have been able to get you here quick enough."
You stare at this man who calls himself your boyfriend. You don't remember anything. Nothing at all. Nothing leading up to the accident, nothing on what you were going to be doing today, nothing about a boyfriend. "I... I don't remember anything." Azul lets go of his chest, letting his blue blood slowly stain and soak his shirt, almost looking like a soaked wet rag. He falls to his knees and droops his head, staring ahead at your standing figure that looked down on him. 
The doctors all share the same look of deep concern, saying in a firm but gentle voice. "Your name is (y/n) (l/n), it seems that due to the car crash you suffer from amnesia right now. But with the help of your boyfriend I'm sure you will be able to regain your memories."
no
"Oh, I see. So... You're my boyfriend?" You turn to look at the man who seems visibly stricken to his core. But with a desperate nod he comes over to you with his hand over his heart as if he means well and true. Slightly standing up as he used the railing for support despite not needing it. 
“Yes, I've been your boyfriend for two years now.” He says it so surely to calm you down that he’s known you for so long now. Such truthfulness in his heart as he cant help but give out a worried look. Yet the uncertain and warry expression on your face doesn’t ease him one bit. He sits back down on the chair, bringing his hands to his face with a low drooped sigh. He was devastated. Really. 
To think such a tragedy like this could happen to you so suddenly, how was he able to process all this information. “I informed them that you were okay. Your parents that is.” He speaks up once again, his face remaining buried. The medical professionals in the room start to get busy, the wind picks up and instead of leaves falling a bird flies away from the tree.
“They have been worried sick about you since I made the call, but I assured them I would take care of you for the time being.” You notice his shaky and shallow voice, as if he was on the verge of just breaking down. But it gives you a sign on how serious and how real this all was. Even though you didn’t know this man, it felt like all that he was saying was true. He contacted your parents, his claims, and his raw emotions all led you to the conclusion that you in fact do know this man. 
Don't remember.
The tree is starting to become less filled around its branches as more leaves start to fall and sway off due to the gradual wind. Azul gets on his knees, crawling towards you in a pitiful manner as a slow trail of blueberry juice follows behind him. “Azul… Was it?” You say softly as you try to familiarize yourself with his name. It comes out so smoothly, the way you say his name, he wants you to say it all the more just to hear you as if you were calling out to him. He crawls more desperately towards you, his hands shaking as you give him a hardened stare. The blue stained knife gleaming a little as if it were a shell on the seashore of a cold beach day. 
Why? It was you wasn’t it?
As you repeat his name again to try and regain a sense of familiarity, Azul looks up from his hands with his head lifted. A hurt look splays across his face as you look at his reaction, though it makes you feel suddenly guilty as he softly smiles at you. Well despite how you acted towards him, isn’t that to be expected? You don't know this man, but the past you did. The you before the accident. However you can tell how deeply hurt Azul was and yet he still tries to accommodate your loss of memories and feelings. 
The past you did know him. You knew him for two years and he shared a love life with you. He would walk with you hand in hand. You two would watch movies together in your apartment as you snuggled in your blanket together. Taking showers together and sharing loving touches with each other, sharing intimate and passionate nights together. You’ve known him a bit longer than two years, only two years of that lovely dating life that is. 
“I’ll go let your parents know that you’re awake though. I’ll inform them of the situation… Hopefully, you remember us soon y/n…” His voice is gentle, as if he just cried his heart out and just recovered. He gets up from the chair, and makes his way out the room while the nurses and doctor work next to you to go through specific procedures regarding your condition.
All so suddenly Azul quickly grabs the knife laying next to your foot and makes a stand. As he suddenly jumps up, you jerk back to try and dodge his sudden attack. You can't see his face because he still hung it low, a groan escaping his lips. Hands suddenly grab at your shoulders to prevent you from moving back any further, instead pushing you forward. The sharp pointed end of the blade can be felt inside of you as you fall into the knife. He holds it firmly as he ensures to sink it into your stomach and you can only let out a bloodshot cry of pain, the feeling of flesh and skin bouncing and tearing seamlessly. You can barely turn your head back due to the amount of agonization you’re feeling in your stomach, feeling frozen stiff as ever. Your clouded and teary eyes are met with a sharp and tall figure with a toothy grin, a shadow covering his face from which all you can see and make out. Turning back to face your attention on Azul who stood firm in his position, you can see your red cherry blood spilling out of you from where the knife stays plunged into you. 
I love you, you know that?
The nurses make sure to change out your iv bag and adjust anything in particular if needed. As you sit there on the medical bed, dressed in those polka-dotted hospital gown you actually come to focus on one thing in particular in the room. Zoning out from all the questions the nurses were asking you, your eyes stayed glued to the scorpion grasses pattern bordered around the walls. It was like something that just stook out to you in all of this clean melancholy room. Outside the room, Azul walks away a good amount of distance to ensure his call isn't heard and that he is not disturbing anyone. After a few good long rings, the phone can be heard with a click as someone on the other end picks up. “Why didn’t you pick up right away, Floyd?” 
As you sniffle and sob due to the pain, Azul then lets go of the knife. Blue hand prints marked on the handle. In your hot tear-filled eyes you see someone walking up behind Azul, lifting him up to help him stand on his feet. Before you could fall down and hit your head on the floor, the same hands that pushed you into the knife catches you and keeps you still and standing. It hurts. It hurts so bad, blood seeping out of you much more than the amount of blood Azul was spilling when you had stabbed him. You watch. Watch as the person from behind places his hand on Azuls stab wound, and when he removes his hand it was like you had never stabbed him at all. It had disappeared as if it were magic. Or as if it were planned all along. You can see it so clearly yet the quality of your sight was so blurry and fuzzy. Finally, you can see Azuls face.
I hate you.
Azuls voice sounded firm and stern as ever through the phone and Floyd only clicks his tongue, seeming to sound slightly passive. “Why's it even matter? I still picked up.” Floyd sounds uncaring as ever as he holds the phone loosely in his hands, looking like it could slip out of his palms anytime. Though his long fingers ensure that isn't the case as they hold it securely in contrast. “That doesn’t answer my question, I need you to be more quick with it next time. Especially for this case in particular.” His eyebrows furrow a bit as he stands against the wall, your room being a while away down the hall. Sounds can be heard nearby but not close enough for him to worry for anyone to hear. “Yeah yeah I got it already, so hurry up n’ tell me what ya want already Azul. If you don't, I'll just hang up on ya.” Azul can hear him yawn on the other side of the phone and he can only sigh in annoyance, shaking his head slightly. “Did you and Jade take care of everything already? The cameras? The car?” 
“Ya wanna find out? I’m kinda bored right now so why dontcha come by and check for yourself? Leave ya little “lover” for a bit since they’re awake, it's why ya called isn't it?” Floyd definitely was playing around with Azul, but he wasn’t having it. Not now, not in the mood to deal with him at the moment. “No need to worry Azul, Floyd is just messing around as per usual when he’s bored. In fact, he only is because we indeed have already finished everything as you requested of us.” 
As you coughed out a bit of blood, you looked up to see Azul. A tall grinning figure behind him as a shadow looms across its face. So quickly, Azul pulls out the knife from you and another blood curdling scream is ushered out of you. Sobs and hot tears leak down your cheeks as Azul gives the blue and red knife over to the figure behind him. Swiftly, it grabs it and proceeds to wipe the knife clean away and free from ever being soaked in cherry and blueberry juices. The hands holding you up lets you go once again, and you fall into Azuls open arms. He holds you so tenderly and closely as you continue to cry and weep, crying so hard from the pain that it was getting harder to breathe. He was smiling. Even though he was there shushing you as one would to soothe a baby, brushing your hair with his fingers and holding you lovingly, you saw the look on his face. He was smiling. He looked so happy. Happy as you continue to suffer and become languished in his arms. You can't breathe.
Not anymore
The past you did know him. You knew him for two years and he shared a love life had a one sided love with you. He would walk with you behind you, lurking in the shadows as he imagined the both of you hand in hand. You two would watch movies together in your apartment as you snuggled in your blanket while he hid in your closet watching with you together. Taking showers together and sharing loving touches with each other, sharing intimate and passionate nights together . Ḩ̵̛̘̤͙͔̝̫̖̻̦̞͙̺̅̿͘͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ c̵̛̥͊ǎ̴̯̀͠ǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆y̶͔͗ i̶̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅm̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈ǎ̴̯̀͠ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕inë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ m̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈u̷̬̩̰̫͕̘̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊h̸̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͝ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅl̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆ ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅǎ̴̯̀͠r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅs̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ ǎ̴̯̀͠c̵̛̥͊t̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ǎ̴̯̀͠l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆y̶͔͗ c̵̛̥͊r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠ǎ̴̯̀͠ṽ̵͇̟̺̣͓̰̭̲̼̻̪̩̰͒̓̿̄̾̔̊͝ͅë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅt̸̫̫̤͕̳̻̰̣̭́̌̉͝ͅ.
You’ve known him a bit longer than two years, only two years of that lovely dating life that is trying to escape from him. T̷̡̧̬̲̭̦̘̩̊̉͛̓̓̌͌̕ẃ̸̝̝̰͋͒ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ y̶͗ë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝ǎ̴̯̀͠r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅ, ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅf̵̢̻͈̫̬̻͔̘̞͈̆̇̍̈̌͊ͅ ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝i̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅm̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈ l̶̬̞͎̖͉̹̝͕̝͖̣̉͆ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅṽ̵͇̟̺̣͓̰̭̲̼̻̪̩̰͒̓̿̄̾̔̊͝ͅi̶̡̹͈͎̳̞͙͖̾̂̀͑̀͆̑̓̽̉͐͘͘ͅǹ̷̨͍̮̥̹̘͙̗̻̬̬̜̥̮̃̒̈́̽͗̿̍̄̂̏͆͠͝ǧ̷̡̟̲̹̩̱͉̮̭͇͚̮̖̟̽̓͊̔̓̕ y̶͔͗ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅu̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓ s̴̹̀̎̇͗̍͗̾̋̏̈͐͒̕͠͠ͅŏ̸̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ ṽ̵͇̟̺̣͓̰̭̲̼̻̪̩̰͒̓̿̄̾̔̊͝ͅë̸͓̮͉͈͇͍̖͎̩̞͈́́́̋̇̾͋̈́̾͆͑͘͘͜͠͝r̵̡͕͈͚͍͍̼͕̍̀̈́̽̎̍͗̍́̏̚͜͠y̶͔͗ m̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈u̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝... T̷̡̧̬̲̭̦̘̩̊̉͛̓̓̌͌̕ŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅŏ̸̡̼̺̫̥̻͈̞̍͆̏̓́͜͝ͅ m̵̢͕̫̓̔͑̊̈u̷̬̩̰̫͕̘͎̔́̃̄̍͋̓c̵̛̥͊ḥ̸̨̧̗̮̖̽̂̓̀̍̋͋́̅̃͘͜͝.     
… 
You’re discharged on the same day. You are to be given therapy to treat and help your amnesia, but with Azuls wealth he instead hires a personal medical professional to tend to your needs. Azul pushes your wheelchair, your legs not at all stable enough to properly walk yet due to the head damage you received. Along with your actual physical injuries as well of course. “Azul, do you think I'll come to remember you again?” You ask as the sound of the wheels roll against the pavement road, his shoes softly clacking as he makes his way over to the slanted curb. “I hope so… I hope you remember all the memories we shared during those two years we were together, though if not then we can start anew. I’ll do my best to make you fall for me once again my dear angelfish.” His voice is full of gentleness despite the rough situation you were in, it felt like he was just putting up a brave front and broken inside.
You’ll love me now.
As you lay in his arms limply, the pain still lingering though your body starting to become peppermint cold, placing a chaste kiss on your head. You cried so much you practically had a hard time breathing. No. This whole thing was suffocating. Because even after all this time of trying to escape from him, he still continued to persistently stuck close by like some sort of annoying parasite. Yet here you are, finally in his arms with those hazing lost eyes of yours. “I’ll make sure to take good care of you, I promise…” Laying still and motionless, your cold body is hugged tightly and longingly in his tight embrace. In the distance of this blank space, a set of scorpion grasses sway in the wind… “We’ll be together forever… Forget me not, okay darling?”... 
No response.
A black car with tinted windows eventually pulls up to the side where you and Azul were. As the car slows down to a stop besides you two, you are met with a man with sunglasses on and teal slicked back hair as the windows rolled down. “Came to pick ya up little guppie, ya missed me?” The driver tilts his head down a little as he pulls his shades slightly forward down his nose bridge and gives you a lazy smirk, waiting for an answer. Though you are only left confused and speechless. “Now Floyd, have you forgotten? Our dear friend Azul has a lover who suffers from an ailment traced back to an unfortunate incident.” Another voice can be heard coming from within the car yet you showed no new reaction. 
“Guppy?” 
“This is Floyd, he’s a little fickle to handle at times but still all the more reliable.” 
“Hiyaaaa~” Floyd waves in an amble manner, lazily waving his hand to give off a more lax vibe. His voice sounded playful and refreshing to hear considering the given situation as he props his folded arm on the open window seal, his elbow pointed outwards. 
“And you may refer to me as Jade.” A tall, well groomed, and neat looking man approaches you, his appearance was certainly something to take notice of. Something about these three, it bothered you in a quiet and lingering fashion. Despite their propper and civil introductions and interactions, they had this underlying and subtle adroit air around them that you couldn’t quite place your finger on. You give him a nod and Azul gently leads you over towards the car while Jade opens the back door for you. 
“How’s shirmpy doin’ back there, comfy?” Floyds voice is painted into the car as he speaks and tilts his head back to meet your eyes – though a dull response slips from your lips as you sit there blankly. A nod is the only thing you give to answer Floyd and he turns his head back, pressing the gas pedal to move the vehicle forward. 
“Where are we headed too?” Your voice still not entirely well, it sounded a little on the rougher end. Azul hands you a bottle and you drink it gratefully, while Jade and Floyd who don't move as they sit in front of your peripheral vision listen to the jazzy music playing from the aux. “Azul has a nice and comfortable residence to your taste. I hope it can help recall some forgotten memories.” 
“Shouldn’t I go see my parents first?” 
“They are rather a long distance away, my dear. For now you should rest up since our place is also quite the drive. I’ll wake you up once we arrive, alright?”
His hands soothe your hands in a comforting manner and you honestly did feel a little tired. Tired enough to lean against his shoulders and close your eyes. His smooth voice can be heard as a lullaby, humming along with the melody of the jazz playing at the moment. It was a nice and comfortable atmosphere perfectly conditioned to better your sleep. 
“I’m glad to see that the pills really do live up to its reputation. Maybe I should look into the ingredients myself and do a side trade.” 
“Bleh, imagine all the work for that. But it does sound fun, imagine all the sorts of people we’d run into~”
“A capitalist at heart I see Azul, but I agree. If it didn’t work as well as listed then we could have kept the pills for research purposes and have gained more from the sellers.”
The car is down the road, and as the hospital is slowly leaving the line of sight, the tree is seen with no leaves as a single bird is perched comfortably on its branch. 
A/N: I'm going to be honest, this has been in my drafts for a damn near a long time and I’m really impatient. I wish this could have had better quality work but I just rushed it off so I could post it, but I hope you enjoyed the little idea I had! And honestly if you have any ideas to continue or add onto the storyline and plot feel free to do so!
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Shameless
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TW: Public sex. Smut. Language. 
SUMMARY: Your insatiable need to be with one another is amended at the discontentment of your friends…
WORD COUNT: 1300
*Requested*
Anonymous asked:
heey can u do a smut where you're hanging out with rafe, topper and kelce in front of the cameron's house but you're sitting in rafe's lap and you're both all over each other like making out and kissing each other's necks and touching, and whispering dirty things to each other & topper and kelce keep making fun of you... and you keep teasing rafe so he can't take it anymore and literally takes u behind a wall and fucks you outside while kelce and topper are just around the corner 🙈and he makes u moan his name so that they can hear how good he's making u feel and when y'all come back they tease you both again and rafe tells them to fuck off lol
Shameless
You were helplessly in lust. Needy and greedy in all things Rafe Cameron as you would gladly let it consume you even if it meant asphyxia of such intense desire was your fate. Love lay beneath this opaque layer of want and obsession, but if ever described how your relationship began or what was at its crux, lecherous ambition would be the unified answer to anyone who was a victim to your massive displays of public affection. And currently this couldn't be any more of the truth for Topper and Kelce. 
Sitting at the front of Tannyhill, your body set into your boyfriend as your arm wrapped across his back and his came around your waist, you were as giddy as children while your mutual friends rolled their eyes at the sight of you seemingly embedded in one another. Where your fingers dug playfully into his distant shoulder, fisting the fabric beneath, his ate into the naked flesh beneath your skirt as he teased up your leg, as your tongues wrapped into one another. 
"Jesus!" Top teased, "Give her some air, Rafe!" But he was ignored. Instead, he would drip his kisses along your jaw and to your neck, before sucking on the chilled skin beneath. You would 'adjust' in his lap, your ass grinding against his familiar and impressive shaft that seemed to harden even more so by your movements. 
"Seriously, invite us to join or knock it off...nobody wants to see you come in your shorts, Rafe-" Kelce interjected as Rafe paused, only for the sake of your quivering modesty. He wanted everyone to know how he made you tremble and scream for him, marks of his want and need proud on your skin. But those expressions twisted in pleasure were all for him. He earned them. He deserved them. 
"Rafe?" You moaned into his ear, his body tensing beneath you as you spoke. 
"Yeah baby?" 
"I'm dripping wet..." He would cast a look of disbelief, not for thinking you were dishonest, but for how vulgar you had been. Surely there were instances where you were like this with him. But the day's heat, or the way he wore it well, had been too much for any reservation to be exercised. 
"But I want to be dripping with you..." He moved your hips down on his thigh, the friction making you yelp temporarily as the boys across from you were too invested in some party invitation on one of their phones to notice how close they were from the voyeurism you and Rafe were teetering towards. 
"I wanna be your slut, Rafe...I want you to hold my hair while you fuck me from behind, just how you like...slapping my ass and making me soak your shoes when you make me come-just like you always do-" 
His hand was suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, a gasp silenced by his lips. 
"You want my cum? You wanna take me in that tight little pussy, always crying for me?" 
"Always..." 
"You as desperate as I am baby?" 
"More...." You moaned against his lips as you took his ear between your teeth. 
"The things I would let you do to me if they weren't here...The things I would do to you-" You were lifted around him, thighs in a clench as his hands rounded your ass as you were taken just around the corner. 
"You're gonna cry out for me, yeah, baby? Let them know why you're always so needy, how I always make it feel so good for you? Make ‘em jealous that my cock is the one making you come-" 
"Yes! Rafe, please!" 
"Then take it its your cock, baby...take it however the fuck you want..." 
You turned away from him, bending just slightly before lifting your skirt. 
"I wanna lick myself off of your cock when you're done using me to make yourself come-" 
"Fuck-" His expulsion pulled him inside of you. Deep thrusts sending you to the wall as the pull of your hair, just as requested when on his lap, had brought you back towards him. 
"Let ‘em hear you, baby. " 
"Fuck, Rafe!" 
"Yes, baby...Fuck. Rafe!" He pulled your hips harder into him, his cock marveling in its expected twitch and shifts as he filled you in abundance. A stretch from a larger than average cock left you never quite adjusted as he pounded into you from behind. 
"That's it baby...pussy's taking me so well-" 
"Rafe! Please touch me! I need you! I'm close!" He bowed forward, hands flat on the wall for just a moment, before returning to your hips. 
"Don't tell me. You wanted to put on a show...earn that fucking applause, baby...let them know I'm all you need!" 
"I'm fucking coming, Rafe! Your cock is making me come...I’m co-" 
"Yeah?" 
"Ugh!" 
"Hmmmm?" 
"Ahh! Baby! I'm-" You lost the ability to speak as he wrapped his grip around your throat, pulling you to kiss him. A tongue passionately in tune to your own, as he moaned and groaned into your mouth to his quickening motions. 
"You feel so good for me, Rafe! I want you to come-" You were turned and taken to your knees, his hand fisting your hair. 
"I believe you wanted to taste yourself?" You nodded as you took him into your mouth, leading him back and forth in desperate acceptance to him. 
"I want them to see that you cry for it..." 
"Did you kill her, Rafe?!" Topper teased as you had gone silent, a smirk spread across his face as you looked up to him with those doe eyes blown wide in lust and drool dripping down either side of your lips. 
"Gonna swallow or you wanna wear me this time?" 
You answered by increasing your speed, driving beads of precum to your tongue as it teased his tip, his second hand now set on either side of your head. 
"Fucking shit, I'm gonna-" 
"Mmm-hmmm " As you moaned in agreeability before feeling those warm ribbons of his release down your throat. 
"My dirty girl always looks so pretty after she comes..." He helped you to your feet, dressing you enough to keep your most precious of caverns and exposures for his eyes only. 
"Then I'm expecting you to make me look beautiful tonight..." Before he could pull you back, you had returned to the boys. 
"You seriously couldn't go another ten feet inside? Nobody wants to see you two getting it on all the time..." Topper spoke while he cast his eyes to the side. You leaned closer to him, sitting back in Rafe's lap as his arms anchored you from leaving his thigh. 
"It's okay Topper...you can think of how I sound when I come...but only Rafe gets to be the one to do it." He blushed as Rafe shook his head in disbelief. 
"I fucking love this girl..." 
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah..." He brought you back to him, kissing just as you had begun, passion and shamelessness spread to your friends who were no more accustomed to your carelessness as you were to end it. But this was simply the passion between you. Sordid. Rebellious. Taboo and tainted in ways that made sense and was perfect for you…
Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae
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dokk-fukuro · 2 years
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Half-Blooded [Äs Nödt x f!Reader]
A/N: I have a headcanon that the wound on Nödt's face was the result of a sudden freeze and an attempt to escape from the ice captivity of Sode no Shiroyuki, so my dear sinners, you can enjoy Äs’ dry, sweet lips.
TW: Asphyxia, female reader, rough sex, Hickeys/Bites, unprotected sex
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You volunteered to join the Wandenreich, honing your Quincy skills at an early age. You were drilled by your father, who was very demanding, and couldn’t even think that a half-blooded couldn’t do something.
You were raised in hatred for the Shinigami, dad reminding you from time to time that they staged a mass extermination of all your brothers, and only a few remained alive, but they were forced to hide so that old enemies wouldn’t reach them. And you believed in it, not doubting the words of your father for a moment.
But your mom couldn't take the propaganda anymore. Shinigami, Quincy, Hollows and war - all this seemed alien to the woman, since she herself was an ordinary person. She wanted a normal childhood for an only child, away from all this nightmare, although the woman was sure that you definitely wouldn’t be like everyone else. You are special among other children.
The woman thought that by divorcing her husband and leaving for another city, she could protect you from the unenviable fate of becoming another cog in achieving the vague goals of her ex-husband. At any rate, it did work for a while, until, on your eighteenth birthday, you faced the dire consequences of your mother running away.
You found her dead in a small apartment, and already from the threshold you realized that this was not the work of some burglar thief who wanted to profit from property. It was someone who possessed a strong reishi, not like an ordinary person. You dismissed the Quincy option because they don't touch people. And only Shinigami remained. Anger boiled in your veins.
“Poor child,” a hoarse male voice was heard, cutting through the silence of the apartment. You startled and stared into the far, dark corner, from where a man with a thick mustache came out. He was wearing white clothes and a black cloak. You shied away from him in a panic. “Don’t be afraid of me, Y/N, I won’t hurt you. I'm here to help you get revenge. You survived Ausweilen, so you are worthy to go with me.
The man extended his hand to you. You grabbed it without thinking for a second. A dark-haired man who called himself Yahweh gave you a promise that you could take revenge on those who killed your mother. And for some reason Y/N believed him.
The dream of the death of your mother and the appearance of Yahweh in the house with good intentions to destroy those who were guilty, you dreamed quite often. And he was probably the only thing Y/N ever dreamed about. As if the film on the filmstrip was not changed on purpose.
The Wandenreich received you coldly, even indifferently, since you were a half-blood, but you didn't pay much attention to it, preparing yourself to become a unit in the holy war against the Shinigami. Y/N was stubborn, trained very often, practicing new skills, and over time, many even liked your zeal. 
To improve day by day is an aspiration given not to everyone. You were especially interesting to Sternritter "F", who often saw your person at the training ground of his unit for training until you lost consciousness. Y/N wanted to show the best result.
But what Äs Nödt could not have expected was that one day you would show up in his room in his office with an extremely unambiguous offer, in an unbuttoned uniform, under which there was nothing but trousers and underwear. This was already confusing.
"Fuck me." Sternritter "F" stared at you standing in the doorway. If it were possible, Äs Nödt would choke on air. “You heard me.” You weren’t going to repeat yourself, closing the door behind you.
It was just right to send you out, clearly insolent, out of sight, but the Quincy was seized by some curiosity.
After all, none of the girls in the Sternritter ranks offered anything like that. Äs Nödt was feared by everyone who was nearby, because he was never asked about such things.
"Tell me: do you know the concept of "Self-preservation instinct?" When you had already sat down on the brunette's knees, he felt the warmth emanating from your body. And it was damn enjoyable. For the first time in his life, he was so pleased to feel someone indecently close to him.
Your features were intriguing. They were pleasing to the eye, so the Lord of Fear was not going to look away.
And again the bright thought visited his head to push you off him and escort you out, but he was still curious, in particular, how far you could go. Especially when she knew what was hiding under the spiked mask.
But for now, your hands are stroking the thin body of a young man through the overcoat of the Wandenreich. Äs Nödt almost devoured you with his black eyes, while you fidgeted a little on him, biting your lip.
The Wandenreich was not a haven of affection and friendship, so what could have happened between you two was a big question mark, unless, of course, you were scared to death of him.
Äs Nödt couldn't get rid of the thought that he would like you to keep moving on him, warming his body. And your unbuttoned shortened coat, which served as part of the uniform, added a hundred points in advance to the piquancy of the unfolding picture, covering only partially a young body, leaving a flight for fantasy.
Large palms with long, thin fingers in fingerless gloves slid over the delicate skin, which was not hidden by the form, and darted behind your back, causing a herd of goosebumps and a noisy exhalation through your body. You visibly trembled and laughed shortly. And the laughter sounded unusually languid, low, even with a certain hoarseness, and Sternritter would be damned if he told himself that it didn't turn him on.
“Come on, don’t be afraid to touch me,” the brunette was at a loss. To be afraid of such simple things? However, the fact is that Äs froze, not moving his hands either up or down, trying to understand: did you like his touch? His hands always seemed cold to everyone, and then a noisy exhalation and a radiance in your eyes.
The young man again touched your bare back under your coat, and you leaned forward a little, arching. At that moment, the pleasant smell of your body reached Sternritter's nose, slightly sweet, but not cloying to the point of nausea. Unobtrusive.
The growing arousal of the brunette was already resting on the bottom of your stomach, and therefore your palms reached for the buttons on Nödt's overcoat, slowly unbuttoning it. As you'd expect, there was nothing underneath but pale skin, which was a little surprising. Quincy wasn't cold?
It was difficult for you to focus your eyes on something. Sharp collarbones, a noticeable Adam's apple and protruding muscle reliefs. Äs Nödt in your eyes now did not seem so thin.
“Stop trying to scorch me with your eyes.” The young man’s voice also dropped. The hoarseness that had hitherto been expressed became seductive, and you bit your lip, enjoying how the memory played back Sternritter's words over and over again. You were no longer interested in the content, but in how it was said.
The coat from your shoulders was dropped to the floor, showing a completely beautiful female body to the calm gaze of black eyes. Fingers quickly found the clasp of underwear, deftly getting rid of it.
Squeezing neat breasts in his palms, Äs Nödt massaged your nipples with his thumbs, listening to how muffled moans fly from your lips.
For you, it was a completely different feeling than when you were still living a normal life as a teenager in Japan, meeting your first high school love, who shamelessly left you for an older girl from the host club. A vile feeling, like a kind and caring Y/N was traded for an empty shell with a beautiful face. However, that's how it was.
“Wait,” you breathed, forcing the brunette to slow down with caresses.
Initially, he didn’t understand what you wanted to do, and only when you began to cover his cool skin with wet kisses, starting from the area under the mask, Quincy feel trembling fingers reach for the clasps on it. He was overcome with a desire to see the fear in your eyes, to see the reaction when ugliness appeared in your gaze. And this was mixed with the pleasure of the warmth of someone else's lips, which, in contrast to the cool skin, was felt more strongly, as if the temperature of your body was above the norm of a healthy person.
You froze as soon as the clasps gave way and the mask fell off the young man's face. You glanced at the disfigured cheeks, on which the scars seemed to be fresh and extended to the line of the lips.
“Is that all?” Y/N laughed softly and pressed her lips to someone else’s. And it finally blew the brakes. impossible to resist, because your fragile-looking body was pressed into the bed.
Äs Nödt did not particularly stand on ceremony, covering the heated skin with bites, biting into the tender flesh almost to the point of blood. The bites licked, which made the young body tremble only more. Y/N's moans grew louder, longer; you threw back your head, exposing your neck for bites, absolutely not caring about the marks that would obviously remain on your body.
Sternritter "F" stepped back to look at what he had created, and not to say that he did not like the result. Having pulled off your trousers and thrown off your overcoat, bracelets with spikes and fingerless gloves, Äs reached out with his hands to your knees and parted your legs. Having settled down between them, he was dizzy with the sensation of the warmth of the female body, so much so that two became intoxicated with caresses and touches to each other.
The brunette kissed the skin beneath him inconsistently, going from neck to stomach, from him to shoulders, and from hips to chest, where he stopped, paying close attention to hardened nipples. His tongue felt unnatural, like it was longer than normal, but it didn't make it any worse.
“Your body is trembling so, but I don’t feel your fear, only sweet languor. It seizes me, pushes me to do many dirty things with you tonight. You should be ashamed.” His breath was hot against his skin. Äs Nödt held on with all his might, despite the fact that his trousers were terribly tight. Stimulation was needed to bring down the arrogance at least a little, to give enlightenment to the consciousness, not to allow the animal desire to possess the girl under him, not to allow himself to tear apart the young body.
“You talk too much,” Y/N chuckled hoarsely and pulled his face to hers. Having dug into the lips of Sternritter "F", you felt how his tongue penetrates into your mouth, passes through the gums, the upper row of teeth, the palate; his hands tighten your underwear, but not completely, only to run a palm under the elastic band, touching the tender labia and dirtying his fingers in your juices.
Muffled moans broke from your kissed lips and drowned in the kiss. Äs Nödt no longer wanted to resist the desires of his body, although until recently he was firmly convinced that he no longer cared about such things. Moving his pelvis, the brunette rubbed his cock protruding from his pants against your naked thigh. It was easier that way.
The young man succumbed to the temptation to feel the once forgotten feelings again, especially after you yourself came to him, offering such a thing.
Äs didn’t think to penetrate with his fingers; teased, deliberately touching your swollen clitoris. The young body in his hands burned, demanding attention. The bite marks were monstrous; easily and quickly they would have definitely not come down. His scarred lips brushed across your cheek, down to the first bite on your neck, kissing him as his fingers still wiggled under the elastic of your underwear.
“Äs Nödt, stop teasing,” Y/N drawled inconsistently, feeling the desire painfully reduce her lower abdomen and labia. You needed him in every sense of the word. "Please."
To tell the truth, the brunette himself was barely holding on so as not to cum in his pants, feeling how you writhed under him, listening to your moans. A person is rarely completely honest with himself, and the moment of pleasure was one of those.
First one finger entered your pussy, then the second; and all this to the accompaniment of a sweet moan. Your wet narrowness pushed you to give a damn about all the foreplay and just squeeze you into bed, mastering the body. But, unlike Bertschy, who shows no pity for anyone but his associates, Äs Nödt could not afford such atrocity. Not towards you. The brunette moved his fingers inside slowly, enjoying every moan and the way your expression changed. Y/N showed a beautiful spectrum.
“Äs I—” you screamed, breaking off. A wave of orgasm washed over your body, sweeping from head to toe. endured.
Having pulled off his trousers along with his underwear, Nödt distributed your juices along the length, hissing through clenched teeth. He couldn't take it anymore. He needed you here and now, and if you were joking, or if it was a Gremmy Thoumeaux’ joke with his ability to project his fantasies, both of you will have a very bad time. Quincy pulled off your panties, leaving them on the edge of the bed. Now there was nothing to stop him.
“I can see your desire in your eyes. Come on, say it out loud, Y/N,” Sternritter “F” hissed dangerously close to your lips. The tip of his cock rested against your pussy, the young man was ready to enter in minute, feeling one with you, that so shamelessly moaned under him minutes earlier.
His cock was wide, veined along its length, and as pale as his entire body. The reddish head oozed pre-cum and was a little larger than it should be, but this did not spoil the overall appearance.
“I want you, Äs Nödt,” you whispered, but the Quincy obviously didn’t like this, so you had to gather all your determination into a fist and stretch out, “I want you, Äs Nödt. Take me.”
The brunette deftly turned you over onto your stomach, lifted your hips up and pushed inside, reacting to your words like an obedient dog to "Yes." Listening to the sweet moan, Äs couldn’t help himself, feeling a damp warmth that gripped tightly around his cock. Thin fingers dug into your ass, holding you in one position: as close as possible to the base of the dick.
Sternritter moved slowly in and out, but each thrust was sharp towards the end, as if he was deliberately teasing the half-breed, wanting to prolong the pleasure. Self-control burned like a sheet of paper over an open flame, and therefore there was no trace of slowness, especially when you moved towards him and wagged your hips, for which you received a tangible blow to one.
“Are you thinking foolin’ around with me?” Quincy changed pace, abandoning tenderness and caution to hell. He huddled over Y/N and bit down on your shoulder as he continued to move. And due to the posture in which both were, the amplitude of his movements was small.
You squealed underneath him, drooling and tears wetting the white sheets. With trembling hands, she clung to the bed, clenching it in her fists, bending her back, changing the angle of entry, but asked only one thing - not to stop.
Straightening up over you, a wide palm gave the buttocks a couple of sonorous slaps, and then grabbed your neck, blocking the access of oxygen. Not much, but it was enough to make it harder for you to breathe.
Äs Nödt moved in your pussy briskly, rudely with a guttural growl, reveling in the opportunity to dominate you, to hear your long moans and obscene sounds of body contact mixed with squelching. Y/N seemed to lose her mind, giving in to the sensations completely, calling out Sternritter's name.
“No one has yet been able to get these desires out of me,” Äs growled, huddling over Y/N’s body again, licking the bites that were stinging with sweat. Under him, you almost broke into a scream, feeling a new release.
However, Äs Nödt was also terribly close, so his movements slowed down a little, but retained their sharpness and rudeness. A couple of deep thrusts and Sternritter "F", barely having time to leave the heated body, released thick load onto your ass, for a moment completely losing himself in pleasure.
You were both under the same blanket. No one had the desire to move. You just could not get up, but rather and exhaustedly smiled.
“We should repeat this,” Äs unexpectedly gave out to himself, which attracted Y/N’s attention. You laughed hoarsely; you lost your voice.
"Definitely."
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weirdstrangeandawful · 7 months
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TW: torture
I am once again suddenly seeing an abundance of hanging-by-the-wrists whump and I love the aesthetic but this is your psa that if you're going for realism, that will quite quickly kill your whumpee via positional asphyxia!!!
This is not a judgement on anyone by the way. It's just something that irks me personally because of just how unrealistic it is. Like the trope where someone pulls out a knife to "save" a stabbing victim but worse, you know?
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forensicated · 1 month
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04x41 - An Old Fashioned Term
TW: Suicide
Taffy and Viv arrive at a house to be told by an elderly lady that a young lady appears to have committed suicide in the top flat of the next house. Taffy and Viv enter the victim, Jenny's, room and find an elderly man, Mr Kelly, wiping the girls mouth with a cloth. They ask him to wait outside the room whilst they check her over. Viv is concerned that he was cleaning up after sexually assaulting the victims corpse
Jim is amazed that Tosh has been a DC for 12 years. Tosh tells him he's actually been in the job for 15 years in total as he spent three years as a PC. Tosh asks Jim if he's been on a suicide job before. Jim says he's done one or two and Tosh says he's done many and they make him have lots of questions and also make him angry at the waste of life and how some poor soul can feel that that is it.
Mike is surprised to find Ted in the CID office as he thought he'd been landed with the suicide job. Ted explains he palmed it off on Jim and Tosh as soon as he could and turns on the charm to book a table for that night. Mike smirks and tells him he's got it bad and 'as my old mum said, it'll all end in tears!' "People are beginning to talk, Ted."
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Viv goes out to meet Tosh and Jim and explains that an 18 year old female appears to have gassed herself and was found by a man who claims he came home from work, smelt the gas and then went up to investigate.
Ted is worried a suspect on another case will get suspicious if given bail. Frank tells him to stop thinking like the suspect has a brain and to think like the suspect actually would. He'd be so happy to have been released that he'd not think too deeply about it. Frank bets him that the suspect will lead them directly to another villain that Frank has been after for a while. As soon as he sees Christine, Ted gives in to Frank's idea and follows Christine down the corridor, telling her of the table he'd booked. He knows he broke their rule of keeping it professional at work but claims thats the effect she has on him. Christine smiles and agrees to meet him there.
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Tosh finds Jenny's suicide note which makes for pretty bleak reading. Jim is horrified. "She's only a kid." Viv and Taffy explain what they saw when they arrived and are suspicious of Mr Kelly. Tosh asks them to find her typewriter which confuses the officers. The note was typed - she must have one somewhere.
Frank goes to see Christine. He's obviously jealous and insists he came for a 'friendly' chat despite seeing how busy she is. He then tells her to drop Ted because she can do better. She tells him to mind his own business and says he will - but at the first sign of it affecting Ted's work he'll make it his business. "Inspector?" She calls as he leaves. "Shove your business."
Taffy finds the typewriter in the bedroom so Tosh asks him to find some paper and type - using a pencil - the letters R D and L. He's going to get SOCCO to fingerprint it but wants to check something. He also asks him to check for a heater in her bedroom and Taffy says he has and there isn't one as she'd moved it into the living room. Viv asks if Tosh knows something that they don't and Tosh admits that he doesn't know something but feels something instead.
Dashers sits with Alec and Tom and gossips about Tosh, Ted and Christine. "You're like a bunch of old washerwomen!" Alec grins and clarifies what he really wants to know. "Is he giving her some or what?" "Subtle as ever, Alec!" Tom laughs.
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Jim and Ted accompany Jenny's body to the mortuary. He charms the mortician and asks her to run the full works because there's something he's not happy about. He agrees Jenny died through asphyxia but he doesn't agree that it was a suicide. She agrees to run the full works. "If I wasn't a married man with five kids I'd buy you a drink." "And if I wasn't a married woman with three kids, I'd let you!"
Ted leaves the magistrates court and joins Mike in a car. They wait for their suspect to get in his taxi and follow it. Mike suspects the man will do a runner.
Mr Kelly gives a witness statement to Tosh and Jim. Kelly is a hospital porter of 10 years. Jim asks why he touched Jenny's body and asks if he touched her whilst she was alive. Kelly insists that's dirty and they can't ask him that. Jim asks how he knew she was dead and he says he just did because he'd seen them daily at work. When asked what he did, Kelly says he opened the windows, turned off the gas and then went next door to ask the neighbour to call the police. Jim asks why he didn't ring from Jenny's phone and Kelly says he didn't know she had one in the kitchen. Tosh asks how, if he didn't know she had one, did he know the phone was in the kitchen. Kelly covers by saying he went back to Jenny's and had a look around the flat but can't say why because he was in shock as you don't find bodies every day. Jim points out that his occupation means he sees multiple bodies daily and has done for 10 years. Jim asks again if that's why he touched her and Kelly snaps that Jim is filthy and that he didn't. Kelly starts to cry when asked if he'd been in trouble with the police before. Tosh leans over him and asks if he can type. Kelly says he never has typed in his life and insists he wants to go home because he can't be held there! Tosh says a few more questions and he can go home and that it's all routine.
Jim joins uniform in the rec room and tells Yorkie he can't make it to bowling. Alec and Bob join them and they talk about the suicide case. Jim explains that that case is why he can't make it to bowling because Tosh thinks it's a murder and he's asking Brownlow for permission to hold Kelly for 12 hours whilst they investigate. Yorkie laughs that 'Tosh is a right one' and asks if he ever changes his shirts. "Regularly, once a week on a Monday." Jim answers. He reckons the fact that Tosh has been a DC for 12 years doesn't inspire confidence and that he's playing the field. Jim doesn't think someone can make another person lay down naked and still to be gassed. "Knock 'em out first!" Yorkie suggests but Jim says there are no marks on her and he leaves the room with Alec pondering his next pool shot.
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Charles asks Tosh to persuade him and Tosh reckons it's strange for a woman to bathe and then commit suicide. He adds that she'd moved the gas heater from her bedroom to her living room but 8 out of 10 people who commit nonviolent suicide chose the comfort of a bed. The note was definitely typed on the machine but when they checked the machine there weren't any fingerprints. The gas heater was obviously moved because of marks on the carpet but it was also wiped clean. He goes on to say that when Kelly appeared to be wiping the girl's mouth when Viv and Taffy arrived. It could have been to remove traces of anything he'd used to make her unconscious. He wants to hold Kelly until they get the full toxicology results. Frank asks about a motive and Tosh suggests that's an old-fashioned term.
Ted and Mike are still watching their suspect and Ted worries that he could be in the pub until closing time. "It's a waste of time." "It's only a waste of time because you've got one on tonight." Ted reminds Mike he's booked a table. Mike rolls his eyes and lets him go but wants him back by midnight. Ted promises he'll get a cab and go to the suspect's house if he's not there.
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Viv has been looking into Jenny's background. Her father has relocated to Canada. Her mother moved to Glasgow but has moved on without a forwarding address. Glasgow police are still looking for her. Jenny worked as a sales girl in a shoe store and was a happy-go-lucky girl who was good at her job and well liked. She had no regular boyfriend, didn't 'put it about' and preferred to go out with her friends. Jim says he's in the dark and Tosh says that's down to him. He saw exactly what Tosh did and accuses him of not looking properly. Tosh admits he doesn't know what the motive is though but asks what Jenny's motive was for committing suicide.
Ted arrives early looking like he hasn't slept. Tosh and Jim tell him that Mike is looking for him... and he's not a happy man.
The pathologist reports that Jenny died of suffocation from gas inhalation. 51 percent inhalation is enough for death and her results show levels of 91. She died between 6 and 8am and she hadn't been drinking. She had had intercourse around an hour of her death. Jim asked if it was forced and there was nothing that showed a struggle nor did she have DNA under her fingertips. That doesn't mean it was consenting, however. There were traces of chloroform found. It looks like Tosh has just discovered the motive.
Mike tells Ted to stuff it when he apologises to him. "That's the last time I cover for you!" Ted points out nothing happened and admits he blew it. Mike snaps that he never listens. Frank walks in and agrees, ordering Ted into his office. "Thanks a lot." Ted growls. "Never down to you is it! It's always someone else." Mike shouts after him.
Frank and Tosh confront Kelly with the findings. He tries to say he didn't do it but Frank tells him they found a fingerprint on one of Jenny's coins and that a chloroform bottle was found in the bin at his flat. Kelly insists it doesn't prove anything and Frank tells him they have a sample from inside Kelly and subtly signals for Tosh to play along like they have the results already. Kelly sobs and admits it but says he won't tell them why and that 'if they're so smart' they've got to work out why.
In the pub Jim admits that Tosh is very clever and that he should be a DS. Bob asks if he's asked Tosh why and Jim says he gives him a soppy grin and taps the side of his nose. He admits that Tosh is angry that he can't work out why the man did it. Bob tells him that it's understandable. If they don't learn why, they don't learn how to prevent it and they don't learn without the question 'why'?" He then leaves to head home because he's had enough of the question 'why?'
Sarge?" "Yeah?" "Why?"
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lgcmilan · 7 months
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POST TYPE: SOLO TITLE: DROWN / CONTROL
[ tw: drowning, asphyxia, self-harm, eating disorders, mental health ]
milan watches her legs swirling in the water. the public pool is so deep that she can barely see the bottom, yet she lets herself slip in and sink down. she keeps her eyes opened even if she knows they will sting later. but discomfort... no, pain, is now familiar to her. better one physical than the one she's been carrying for a while now. she watches as the surface gets further and further away. she watches others swimming above her, the ambiant sound muted by the water.
isn't this a metaphore of her current life; her watching others on the surface as she sinks in a deafening darkness, knowing that no one will jump to rescue her. she knows better than to hope that anyone would do so for her. not anymore. hope. the beginning of disappointment. there's no place for hope for someone like her.
her feet finally touch the bottom and she slowly let her breath out, slowly empties her lungs and she remains. she remains even if her body tries to raise a sense of panic in her. she has to remain.
she's always bumbled through life without much care of worry. she's always followed the whims of others and accepted to go that way or this way. and because of this, ever since she became a trainee, she had been bound to hit a wall one day. and that day had come and past. and now she's reeling. reeling from the shock, from the pain, from the reality check. because everything had always turned out fine, the day everything turned out wrong, she realized that she had nothing for herself. stuck in a box of her own making without any control on the events of her life. no control on the evolution of her friendships, no control on receiving love, no control on even the color and length of her hair. no, she had left all that in the hands of others.
the therapist told her to focus on the things she can control and let go of those she couldn't. and milan had decided to taking this to heart (though the woman likely didn't mean it that way). it's true, she cannot control someone into loving her, she cannot control her friendship into staying the same, she cannot control her daily schedule, she cannot even control some of her feelings, however, she can regulate herself. she can regulate how she reacts, she can regulate her mindset, she can regulate her body.
the panic rises inside of her, but she resists even as the edge of her vision darkens. not yet. she doesn't want to go up just yet.
it's not easy and slipping is expected, like earlier when she caved and ate a pack of candies. but she regulated herself after; purging and a punishing dozen of lap in the pool. control. it's all about what she can control.
finally, she pushes the bottom of the pool. her head comes out right as she's about to lose consciousness. she takes a big gulp of fresh air before concentrating on calming her beating heart and clamping down the panic. control. it's all about what she can control. and she'll do this again and again until she has a sense of control over this. a sense of control over something.
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