#not a writer

[imawholeassmood]

whole thing below the cut for those who aren't on AO3

The gloved hand that gripped Caitlyn’s wrist didn’t even try to be gentle as it twisted her around and dragged her from behind the barrel and into the open.

“Found this one stealing from the coffers, Captain,” the youthful voice said as the hand tossed Caitlyn with enough force she dropped to the ground, sprawling in the standing water from the night’s earlier rain.

A pair of scuffed black boots clacked their way across the boardwalk and stopped once they entered Caitlyn’s view where she kept her eyes down. Maybe if she didn’t look at the pirate captain her life would be spared. Though, if this was who she thought, her death was as sure as the sun would rise.

In the silent moments that followed, Caitlyn’s mind raced with thoughts of escape. Surely, she could run to freedom. She doubted a pirate captain would bother to chase a lowly thief, especially not when said thief came up empty-handed. Just as she resolved to take off, a whisper of a voice gave a simple order.

“Take her to the brig.”

“The brig? You can’t put a lady in the brig!” Caitlyn shouted, raising her head to look at her jailor.

“I see no lady here.”

The firm-set jaw, shadowed by the tri-cornered hat tipped towards the one who captured Caitlyn and she was once again being dragged away, this time by a pair of bodies grabbing her under her arms.

***

“Eat, thief. Captain’s orders.”

“Go to hell.”

Caitlyn had no idea how long she’d been in the cell barely large enough for her to lay at full length. She pulled her legs into herself and wrapped her arms around her knees, sticking to the corner where she had the best vantage point. Her joints ached from lack of mobility, and she was in a constant state of shivering from the cold.

The one who captured her brought her food and water and left, usually without a word, returning only to swap out the uneaten food and drink with fresh food and drink. Even as her body weakened from her refusal to accept the offerings, Caitlyn resolved not to give up her fight. She didn’t know why she was being kept alive, but if any of what she’d learned about pirates was true, the reason wouldn’t be a good one.

The pirate let out a small snort. “We just left there.” And once again, Caitlyn was alone as the sliver of daylight disappeared with the closing of the door behind two long, swinging braids.

***

“Surely, death by starvation is not how you want to go out.”

The words are spoken so low, Caitlyn almost doesn’t hear. That, or her health has deteriorated so much her senses are no longer working at capacity.

“Fuck you,” she grumbles.

“I’m afraid you’ll need your strength for that.”

Caitlyn lifts her head from where it rests on her forearms laying across her knees to look at who she knows to be the pirate captain. Her vision is bleary, and her eyes burn from lack of sleep and nutrition, but she doesn’t miss the smug look on the still-shadowed face. Captain Five-One-Six is the most notorious and feared pirate on the Runeterran seas, dodging capture from the enforcers for nearly a decade. The nameless pirate is known to be ruthless, merciless, and, above all, fearless. Most of the rumors Caitlyn’s heard about Five-One-Six, so-called for the number of life sentences to be served upon capture, involve a trail of mass destruction and dead bodies. The only ones who claim to have survived an encounter with the pirate are the women no one believes who fell in love after a single night of passion. Caitlyn’s always found the idea ridiculous, if not a little intriguing.

“Why don’t you just kill me,” she says, breaking herself from the naïve thoughts of her younger self.

“Oh, I plan on it,” Five-One-Six says, voice still calm and low. “But first, I have questions, and I’m running out of patience. So, either you eat on your own, or I force-feed you.”

“Die ignorant,” Caitlyn grunts out, determined not to give this pirate any peace.

Before she understands what’s happening, the door is open and Caitlyn is trapped against the wall of the cell with a solid body pressed firmly on her lap and fingers gripped around her mouth, forcing her jaw open. She squirms and tries to push the captain off her, but the pirate is a solid mass that doesn’t budge against her efforts. Five-One-Six snaps her fingers with her free hand and Caitlyn doesn’t see the object before it’s shoved into her mouth. The pirate adjusts her hand over Caitlyn’s mouth, covering it and holding her jaw shut then brings her other hand around to pinch Caitlyn’s nostrils closed.

This close, Caitlyn barely makes out a scar on the pirate’s upper lip, curled into a sickening smug smirk. There’s something else about those lips that seems off to Caitlyn. Something about the pirate’s jaw, in general. While the tri-cornered hat angles low enough to keep most of the top of the pirate’s face hidden, Caitlyn can see bits of long hair waterfalling down the pirate’s neck and back.

“Swallow.”

The word brings Caitlyn’s focus back to the object in her mouth. It’s not anything she recognizes, and the slimy texture nearly activates her gag reflex. She works her throat, struggling with the lack of air. The pirate releases the hold on her nose and Caitlyn sucks in a full breath.

“Good.”

Five-One-Six turns, presumably to get more of the slimy substance, dropping her hand from Caitlyn’s mouth in the process. Caitlyn spits out the mouthful of food, covering the pirate’s cheek and jaw.

To her surprise, the pirate doesn’t react beyond bringing a fingerless gloved hand to wipe at the spit in a slow, controlled motion. It doesn’t do anything to lessen the adrenaline running through Caitlyn’s system, quickening her breaths

“Try that again, Cupcake,” Five-One-Six says, not looking at Caitlyn, “and they can add another life sentence to my punishment.”

With that, the captain leaves Caitlyn locked in her cell, taking the braided pirate with her.

***

Five-One-Six doesn’t return.

Instead, a team of burly pirates give Caitlyn the force-feeding treatment. She would never admit it, but it feels good to have food in her stomach again. After what she assumes to be several days, she starts to regain some composure, enough to reconsider her stance on starving herself.

Caitlyn decides if she’s going to get out of this alive, or at least with her dignity intact, then she’s going to have to fight. And that mean’s keeping her strength up. She starts with simple stretches to acclimate her muscles, then adds in push-ups, and eventually moves to sparring.

Wearing only her undergarments, she’s throwing air jabs and uppercuts in the dark when a sound like a sharp intake of breath from the darkness stops her. She’s yet to see any vermin in this part of the ship, and she never has any visitors aside from her forced feedings, but the sound is enough to make her wary that she might not be alone.

Caitlyn narrows her eyes to focus on the shadows of the cargo that surrounds her holding cell.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

A form emerges from the shadows, boots thudding against the floor.

“You,” Caitlyn spits with as much vitriol as she can fit into a single syllable. “What are you doing here?”

“My ship,” Five-One-Six says, “I can go where I please.”

Anger builds as Caitlyn realizes she’s been caught. So much for the element of surprise.

“How long have you been hiding there?”

The pirate ignores Caitlyn’s question, stopping far enough from the cell Caitlyn can barely see any features. “I heard you were taking food better. Hoped that meant you’d given up the fight.” Even in the darkness, Caitlyn can see the pirate’s head move to scan her body from head to toe and back again. It sends a shiver through Caitlyn’s body. She forces herself not to cover herself and stand tall. “But I’m glad to see that’s not the case.”

“What do you want?”

“Answers.” The captain’s voice is steady as ever, adding to Caitlyn’s hostility.

“Screw you.”

“In time.”

In the darkness, Caitlyn wishes she could see Five-One-Six’s face. She wants to know who this infuriating being is, so she makes sure to target the right person when she finally makes her move. When the pirate starts towards the door, Caitlyn can’t help but try to get some answers of her own.

“What answers do you want?”

This stops the pirate, who turns back to face Caitlyn.

“You know what your problem is?”

“Oh, please, tell me.” Caitlyn says, crossing her arms. This earns her a slight hum of approval.

“You expect everyone to give you what you want. If you want people to help you, you have to let them think you have what they want.”

Caitlyn’s brows furrow at this. She’s not in any position to give anyone anything.

“And what do I have?” she says, curious.

Five-One-Six steps closer to the cell.

“You’re hot, Cupcake. Make people think you’re into them.”

“I’m not fucking you,” Caitlyn says, straining to see any reaction from the pirate who gives none. “Or anyone else on this ship.”

“Not like that, you’re not.”

Without another word, the pirate slips out of the door leaving Caitlyn reeling with her thoughts.

***

A bucket of water and bar of soap are brought to her cell. The braided pirate sits on a crate and watches as Caitlyn stares at the items. Sunlight through the open door illuminates the space with more light than Caitlyn’s seen in weeks. She blinks to help her eyes adjust.

“Ain’t got all day,” the pirate says. Even in the shadows, Caitlyn can tell this pirate is younger than the others. “Captain says I gotta watch. Make sure you don’t get up to nothin.” The voice, with an almost playful undertone sounds like a girl.

“You’re a child,” Caitlyn says in awe.

The braided girl is on her feet and at Caitlyn’s cell, grabbing her by the collar and pulling her face into the bars before Caitlyn can defend herself. She’ll need to work on her reflexes if she’s going to survive this.

“I’m a pirate,” she says, her eyes glowing with murderous rage. Caitlyn’s reminded of the force with which she was dragged from behind the crate and thrown to the ground when this same pirate caught her. She wonders what this girl has been through to give her such strength and ferocity. “Now wash before I do it for you.”

Caitlyn thinks about the force-feedings and decides she’d rather not experience forced bathing. “Can you at least turn around?”

“No.”

Five-One-Six’s words come back to her. Let them think you have something they want. She wonders what this girl might want that she could provide. She opens her mouth to ask and is cut off.

“You don’t have anything I want,” the girl says, turning a blade over in her hand to examine its edges. “Captain likes you, I don’t. Now strip or I cut those clothes off of you.”

It might not have been the information she was looking for, but the knowledge that Captain Five-One-Six likes her was definitely something.

***

The washings come more regularly after that, always with the braided pirate girl watching over her. Five-One-Six doesn’t visit her again for what seems like weeks. Caitlyn has no idea how long they’ve been at sea or how long she’s been in the brig. There’s not much motion in this part of the ship, except when passing through rough seas. She’s not even sure they’ve been sailing this whole time. For all she knows, they might be traveling back and forth between neighboring ports, keeping her close to home.

The door to the cargo area flies open with such force it bangs against the wall and ricochets back, stopped only by an extended hand reaching through the opening. Caitlyn recognizes the fingerless gloves and stands at full attention. There’s not much light coming through the door, so it must be just after sunset.

Five-One-Six descends the stairs with a determined step. Stopping at the cell with the key in the lock, the pirate’s voice is thick.

“Fight me and I kill you. If you best me, my crew will kill you.” The captain unlocks the door, opening it but just only. Caitlyn notices a clunky boot near the door to jam it if she pushes.

“Where are you taking me?”

Five-One-Six tsks. “You get what you want, when I get what I want.”

Caitlyn steps back further into the cell, her pulse racing. The captain’s head drops.

“You can be awake for this, or I can knock you out.”

This is it. Caitlyn hopes her training has been enough. Whatever the captain has planned for her, she’s going to fight. But first, she needs to make it out of the cargo area. She steps forward and Five-One-Six opens the door, reaching in to grab Caitlyn by the wrist.

Once they are clear of the cell, Five-One-Six dips low and scoops Caitlyn until she’s dangling over a shoulder like a rag doll. Despite the captain’s shorter stature, there’s strength there Caitlyn hadn’t anticipated. She takes a breath to center herself. She needs to be smart about when to make her move.

The pirate captain carries Caitlyn up the steps and across the ship. Caitlyn does her best to orient herself but between her position and her severely deteriorated eyesight, all she gathers is a few seconds of walking until they are through another door. Five-One-Six stops at the entrance and speaks to one of Caitlyn’s feeders.

“We’re not to be disturbed.”

The door clicks behind them, and Caitlyn hears the latch of a bolt before she’s being carried across the room and dropped onto…a bed? There’s no light in the room except for the dim glow of an early night moon through a small portal window.

“You’ll sleep here tonight,” Five-One-Six says, sitting on a chair next to the bed. The captain makes no other move.

“What?” Caitlyn says, trying to process the situation.

“I need you rested.”

“Rested? For what?” Too many thoughts are running through Caitlyn’s mind, none of them good. “What’s going on?”

The pirate lets out a sigh from the chair. “What’s going on is you’re going to sleep. I’ll return you to your cell before morning.”

“You think I’m going sleep here?” Caitlyn says, looking around the room then back to the captain. “With you? What, so you can kill me in my sleep?”

“I could do that any time. Didn’t have to bring you here for that.”

Caitlyn swallows. “Why did you bring me here?” She tries to hide the tremor in her voice, the growing fear inside her.

Five-One-Six doesn’t look up, doesn’t move, doesn’t give any indication that anything is going to happen. “You’re going to have to trust me, Cupcake.”

Caitlyn sits up on the bed, finding her courage again. “In what mad world would I trust you?”

“This one.”

***

Caitlyn wakes in her cell when breakfast is brought by the two-person feeding team. Even though she hasn’t fought them since Five-One-Six caught her shadow-boxing, the Captain has been vigilant with keeping the two largest brutes on feeding duty, the third member of the team relieved some time ago.

She doesn’t remember returning to her cell, supposing she’d been carried here while she slept. Despite the crick in her neck, Caitlyn does feel slightly more rested than she has any morning since she’s been captive on this ship. Maybe a few hours in a real bed did more for her than she expected, even though she’d spent half the night tossing and turning, wondering when the captain would leave the chair to make a move. But no move came and Caitlyn was still dressed with nothing seeming out of place.

When she finished her food and was again left by herself, she started brainstorming why the captain may want her rested well enough to risk letting her sleep outside of her cell. And with access to the captain. It seemed like an unnecessary risk, and Caitlyn came up empty on reasons to take it.

Five-One-Six returned again that night with the same offer. And again, when Caitlyn asked for a reason, the captain responded, “you get what you want when I get what I want.” It was infuriating and Caitlyn shouldn’t feel a warmth run through her when the captain simply said, “I want you rested” when Caitlyn pressed. She shouldn’t feel a tickle of joy when the captain grunted while dropping Caitlyn onto the mattress. She shouldn’t feel herself soften when the captain threw a change of clothes at her, telling her, “You stunk up the bed.”

But she did feel those things, and now here she was tucked under a sheet in clean undergarments eyeing the mysterious pirate captain sitting in the chair, head dipped low to hide in the shadow of the tri-cornered hat. Allowing her eyes to roam the captains full form, Caitlyn pauses at the fingerless gloved hands, noticing scarring on most of the exposed fingers, likely from cuts and scrapes. Just like the pirate captain’s mouth, there was something off about those hands. While Caitlyn knew Five-One-Six wasn’t a large person, there was something almost delicate about the features she could see.

“Careful, Cupcake.”

The words startle Caitlyn as her eyes snap back to the captain’s partially exposed face, mouth curled into a wicked grin.

“All that starin’s gonna make me think you’re into me.”

***

There’s a fresh pile of clothes folded on the floor of Caitlyn’s cell when she wakes the next morning. Still dressed in her undergarments, she breathes a sigh of relief no one had tried to dress her. Thus, begins another step in her routine. Caitlyn eats, bathes regularly, sleeps in a bed, and gets fresh clothes every few days. She never sees her original outfit again, but she kind of prefers the more casual dress of the seafaring crew than the stuffy outfits she’d been forced into for most of her life.

It isn’t until the braided pirate girl brings her a bodice one day during her wash that Caitlyn questions the provided outfit.

“It’s for protection,” the girl says with a glint in her eye.

“Protection from what,” Caitlyn says, holding it against her torso.

The girl waves her hand around. “Oh, you know,” she says in her airy voice. “Knives, blades, grabby men.”

Caitlyn looks up at that. “Men?”

“Their big, dumb fingers struggle with the laces,” she says, wiggling her fingers for effect. “Put it on and turn around.” The girl jumps down from the crate she’s crouched on and walks to the cell.

“I’m not wearing this,” Caitlyn insists.

“Ugh,” the girl says with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Captain’s orders.”

“Then the captain can come down here and order it.”

The girl steps back, eyes wide. “Feisty.” A grin spreads across her face. “Suit yourself.” She near skips her way up the steps and out the door of the cargo area after taking the bucket and soap from the cell, leaving Caitlyn wet, half-naked, and alone in the dark.

The captain doesn’t retrieve Caitlyn that night.

***

Her breakfast is late.

Caitlyn clenches her jaw thinking about how she’s being punished for refusing to wear anything resembling a corset. She doesn’t understand why she’d have to. Spending her time in a barely human-sized cell all day and night doesn’t exactly require one’s bosom to be lifted and shaped with a leather-laced bodice. She grinds her teeth staring at the article and her stomach rumbles with a sharp pain.

It’s dark when the door opens. Caitlyn refuses to stand when she sees it’s Five-One-Six descending the stairs. She keeps her eyes firmly planted on the floor.

“I need your help with something.”

Caitlyn huffs. “Why would I help you?”

Boots step up to the cell door, stopping inches away. “You’d like more time outside of this cell.”

Caitlyn snaps her eyes up to look at the captain. “Out of this room.”

The captain nods. Caitlyn stops herself from jumping to her feet, taking her time instead to rise and step towards the door. Five-One-Six steps back, staying in the shadows.

“What do you need me to do?”

The captain nods again, this time towards the bodice on the floor. “Put it on.”

“I’m not fucking anybody.”

This earns her a half-cocked smile with the rise of the captain’s scarred lip. “Trust me, Cupcake, I don’t want you fucking anybody.”

Caitlyn can’t help but stare at the captain’s mouth, slightly parted. She wonders if there was more to that sentence and feels a pull in her chest that wants there to be more to that sentence. Her hands come up to wrap around the bars of the cell, needing to be that much closer to the pirate captain, to the person whose face she has yet to see, the person who’s kept her hostage for months, and the person who’s made sure she is fed, cleaned, rested and now, given more time outside of this cargo hold when surely another pirate captain would have had her killed the moment they caught her stealing.

“Put it on,” Five-One-Six says again, voice huskier than before. It curls Caitlyn’s toes in the boots she’s been given, and she moves to grab the bodice and pull it over her blouse without a second thought.

“Turn around.”

Caitlyn spins herself to face away from the door, hearing the rattling of the key in the lock and the click of the door opening. She takes a steadying breath as she readies herself for what’s coming.

The captain’s hands gather her hair, tugging it out from under the bodice and draping it over Caitlyn’s shoulder. She feels the light brush of fingertips dust across her bare shoulders, glad for the cut of the blouse to keep her skin exposed to the touch. Between the chill in the night air and the caress of the captain’s fingers, she sucks in a breath, bringing her skin to gooseflesh. Behind her, Caitlyn can feel the captain’s presence as the distance between them shrinks. The first pull of the laces jerks Caitlyn’s body and a gasp escapes her mouth. It’s matched by a heavy breath near her shoulder. Caitlyn closes her eyes, imagines the captain’s hot breaths on her neck followed by the press of lips to the sensitive spot near her collarbone. She imagines with each tug of the laces those strong hands wrapping around to her front to press them closer together, bodies touching in as many points of contact as possible. She tips her head back, imagining the captain’s hands palming her breasts, massaging, priming them both for more.

“Ready.”

“Yes,” Caitlyn breathes out.

“Let’s go.”

When she’s released, Caitlyn comes out of her thoughts and back to reality. Realizing what she’s been doing, she opens her eyes and focuses on the wall before her. “Fuck.”

***

There’s no one on the deck of the ship when Caitlyn walks out of the door to the cargo hold. Walks out. She’s not carried, dragged, or held at knifepoint. The clouded sky is dark and there are no lights on board. Caitlyn takes in a deep breath, filling her lungs with the fresh air.

“Come,” Five-One-Six says, breaking the moment. “You can breathe when we get back. We don’t have much time.”

Caitlyn follows the pirate captain as they make their way along a forested path. It’s not as difficult to see as she expected, maybe because her eyes are so used to the dark, but there’s also just not much to see. She doesn’t know how Five-One-Six even knows where to go, given the trail they’re following is barely a footpath and there are plenty of them to choose from.

When they reach a clearing, Five-One-Six holds an arm out across Caitlyn’s front to hold her in place.

“All you have to do,” the pirate captain says, “is distract the guard for a few minutes.”

“Guard? What is this place?”

The question lingers in the silence of the night, except for the heavy breath Five-One-Six sighs out.

“It’s a lie.” They stand there for a moment, Caitlyn watching the captain and the captain watching the building. “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” Caitlyn says, grabbing the pirate’s arm before releasing it when the captain looks at her hand. “You’re not going to kill anyone, are you?”

“That depends how good you are at making people think you have what they want.”

Caitlyn scoffs at that. “You know there’s more to offer people than sex, right?”

“Maybe for you, Cupcake,” Five-One-Six says. It makes Caitlyn wonder what the pirate might think Caitlyn wants. “Not these people.”

Caitlyn glances to the building again. “All I have to do is distract the guard?”

“Yes.”

“What are you going to do?”

“The rest.”

***

“Hang on, old man,” Five-One-Six says, “we’re almost there.”

Caitlyn’s breath is labored as she tries to keep pace with the pirate captain who’s been dragging a beast of a man on a mat with a rope since they left what Caitlyn can only assume was a prison of some sort. It’s dodgy backwoods location and lack of any real guard structure made it seem like more of an unsanctioned place than one of the city’s incarceration houses.

The man groans as they pass over the rough terrain, holding his ribs. Given the state of his face and what Caitlyn can see, he’s been beaten. Recently and thoroughly.

When they near the ship, the crew surrounds them, helping carry the man to what Caitlyn assumes is the sick bay and readying the ship for sailing. The captain calls out orders and for the first time, Caitlyn sees how the ship operates in full force. It’s like watching poetry in motion as people move about, quickly but unhurried, and dance around each other with an odd sort of grace. Even with her standing in the middle of it all, they dodge around her as if she’s supposed to be there.

But she’s not supposed to be there. She should have run when they were out in the woods. Caitlyn hadn’t even thought about it.

She looks up to the captain, standing on the quarterdeck. For the first time, Caitlyn sees the captain’s face, though cloaked in the darkness of the night she can’t make out any features other than a slight glint in the eyes. The captain tips the front of the hat in a gesture of gratitude then extends a hand towards the room where Caitlyn’s been allowed to sleep. It’s odd, the feeling she has to ignore the suggestion and return to her cell in the brig.

“Captain’s orders,” a familiar voice says in her ear then fades into the distance with a laugh.

Five-One-Six doesn’t come to the room that night. Caitlyn doesn’t get any sleep.

***

“Sorry miss,” the larger man of her two-person feeder team says the following morning when she’s back in her cell. “The captain needs a few days. Says you’ll get your time after that.”

“Who was that man?” Caitlyn says, pushing around the food on her plate.

The man looks at her with his graying mutton-chop beard and mulls over his answer for a moment. “Someone you should be so lucky to meet,” he finally says.

Taking that as her sign that she won’t get a more straight-forward answer, she spends the rest of her meal not speaking. She spends the rest of the day not speaking. She doesn’t even ask when her braided pirate is replaced by another woman of the crew to watch over her for her bath.

Whoever that man is, has the whole ship acting differently. Caitlyn finds after a few days, she’s more upset about the absence of Five-One-Six in her daily routine than she is about not getting her promised outside time. She doesn’t think about why that is.

***

It’s the smoke that wakes her. It pours in under the door to the cargo bay and clouds the air. Caitlyn coughs and tears at her clothes to have something to cover her nose and mouth. She can’t hear anything and can barely see the glowing light of what’s likely flames from under the door. She figures there’s no point in screaming. Everyone knows she’s down here. And if it’s the case where the only people around are ones who don’t know she’s down here, then she’s probably better off not alerting them to her presence.

The ship must be engulfed in flames as she can feel the heat around her. The wood planks of the ship crackle and snap and she hears the sounds of destruction as the walls around her thin as they burn away. Above her, a hole opens as flames tear through the ceiling, dropping embers into the cargo hold. Caitlyn cowers low in the corner of her cell, staying under the smoke as much as she can, but if the fire gets in here, then it won’t take long for it eat its way through the wood crates and other consumables that are likely stored here.

As the flames continue to spread, Caitlyn closes her eyes, thinks of the life she left behind, the life she could have had, and she wonders if this is her penance. Maybe she caused too much damage before she got out.

Shouting causes her to open her eyes. A mistake, given the immediate stinging she feels, and closes them again.

“Captain, it’s too late!” Caitlyn hears someone yell.

“I’m not leaving her!”

The response is loud, frantic, and unlike anything the Caitlyn’s heard from the captain before. She squints to look at the door and finds it completely blocked by fire. There’s no way into the cargo area that isn’t. She’s going to die here, even if the captain doesn’t want to leave her. The fire wants Caitlyn, too.

Another loud bang signals the collapse of more of the ceiling and Caitlyn covers her head with her hands. As she once again forces her eyes open and watches the fire inch closer, she sees a figure launch through the door and land in a tucking roll on the floor. The body unravels from a cloak and a mess of choppy, dark red hair cascades around a heart-shaped face, framing wide, terrified eyes. A breath escapes Caitlyn’s lips as she forgets all about covering her nose and mouth, mesmerized by the woman before her.

Shadows dance across the curves of the defined muscles of her heavily inked arms. Unkempt and raw, the woman looks feral making her way towards her, and Caitlyn doesn’t think she’s ever seen someone more gorgeous in her life. Awestruck and somewhat confused by this woman’s determination to get to her, Caitlyn can only stare.

When the woman reaches the cell door, she fumbles to get the key in the lock, eyes darting between the lock and Caitlyn.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “you’re ok, you’ll be ok. I’m gonna get you out.” The words rush out, more like she’s saying them to herself than to Caitlyn.

Caitlyn stumbles her way across the floor to meet the woman at the door. The bars of the cell are hot to the touch, and she recoils her hands into herself. Still fumbling with the key, Caitlyn carefully reaches through the bars, placing a hand on the woman’s shaking wrist. She looks up at the touch and their eyes meet. Caitlyn’s heart lurches at the emotion swirling in big, doe eyes. She resists the urge to cup this woman’s cheek in her hand.

Instead, she guides their gazes down to the key in the lock and the now steadied hand under hers makes the final twist.

With a click the door swings open and Caitlyn lunges through. The woman drapes the cloak over Caitlyn’s head and shoulders. Caitlyn notices the cloak has been soaked, giving them a little extra protection.

A series of quick explosions rock the ship sending them apart and sprawling to the floor.

“Go!” the woman yells from the other side of the flaming mast that’s fallen between them. Heat flares as the flames lick up to the open air above them. Caitlyn jumps back, raising an arm to block her face. She glances to the door then back to the woman on the floor. “Go,” she says again, her voice a gravelly command. “Captain’s orders.”

Caitlyn’s eyes widen with realization. She steps back from fallen mast, ignoring the flames around her, unable to focus on anything but the slight curl in the woman’s upper lip and the scar she’s come to know so well. She sucks in a shaky breath, burning her lungs with hot, smoky air as her heart pounds like it’s trying to break out of her chest. A crash of fiery debris falling to her right jolts her to action.

With a few quick motions, Caitlyn maneuvers the cloak and uses it to cover the burning mast, reaching a hand over to the wide-eyed captain. Looking not too happy with her, Five-One-Six wastes no time, grasping Caitlyn’s wrist, locking them in for better leverage for Caitlyn to pull her up and over the mast in one quick move. She shakes out the cloak and holds it around them as they again make their way to the flaming door.

When they reach the relative safety of the ground outside, amongst the coughing and ragged crew, Caitlyn’s lungs and eyes and mouth and nose all burn from the smoke. She lay on her back on the ground, gasping for air and trying to recover when a solid body straddles atop her waist, charred face hovering inches away. At first, her eyes seem concerned as they scan Caitlyn’s face, then, they turn dark.

“Your orders were to leave me,” Five-One-Six says. For the first time, Caitlyn notices the smattering of freckles across the captain’s nose and cheeks, a silver hoop in her nose, and a small black ink tattoo under her left eye – a roman numeral VI. Five. One. Six. Clever, Caitlyn thinks, a smirk drawing at her lips.

“Fuck you,” she says, pulling the captain down into a fierce and bruising kiss.

well, well, well, look who's writing at 3am again. vi and cait and arcane have been living in my head since I binged the show a few months ago so I'm glad all of this just poured out of me.

[weevmo]

Wrote a fanfiction for something I wanted to read and couldn't find -

I understand now

[poorgirlinpoorworld]

More ideas for me & you

————————————————————————

Hi everyone,

I will use this post as my notes for ideas and unfinished imagines - im not a writer, i have adhd, dyslexia and english is not my first language so i just need place to dump my brain like trash XD so pls dont laugh

Stuff here will be about tmr and mostly gally probably, but feel free to use anything and change anything you like! I would love read your work so pls tag me!

Send help, send love and send nud- bye 🧡

————————————————————————

Gally:

1. Drunk sleepover - Late bonfire night, most gladers were already asleep, but y/n was still partying. Because of her pretty drunk state Alby send her to her hammock (in this version y/n would not have her own hut, instead she would sleep in common area among other gladers) to go to sleep. Well, she tried to go but after this many Gallys drinks she was a gigling mess… after standing beside her hammock and starring at it, she decided it was to cold to sleep outside. She swayed and stumbled her way to homestead now looking at doors to keepers rooms.

„Eeny, meeny, miny, moe…” pointing at doors she started drunkly singing, quietly not to wake up anyone but still giggling every word. After rhyme was done she said with smile „Gally it is”. She opened his door and came inside. Closing behind herself she started to undress not even checking if the owner of the room is still asleep or not. After stealing one of his tshirt, she put it on as pijamas and headed to bed. With every power she had she tried to snuggle to the boy without waking him but in reality, well.. she was drunk, she giggled so much she failed.

„Can you tell me why the shuck are you in my bed?” said Gally after, more confused than angry. After few seconds he realised how close she was, her chest to his, her legs wrapt with his, her face so close, their lips almost touching… (and here ends my ability to write, i would love to read story like this with proper grammar and maybe some smut at the end 😉)

2. Pregnancy - Oh what if y/n was in glade for two years, one year in she started dating Gally (characters are aged up to 17-19). When they escaped the maze and witnesed death of her love she didnt know she was pregnant… and then would be Gally POV when he sees her in city - with child in her arms… maybe we could put also some story about Thomas being protectiv of two of them, not in love, more like family, but in Gally POV it looks like love, hes not angry just heartbroken that he lost everything.. well it was just a quick thought 🙈

Thomas:

1. Omegaverse - imagine thomas being send to Glade full of alfas and finding out really quick that he is different… that he is omega.

[forestofcryptids-art]

Crack ship stemming from art with hydrated Viktor looking like…well…Viktor

+ the idea that Ambessa would have been all over him

I know absolutely nothing about LOL lore so prepare yourself for the babbling insanity of someone who has no idea what they’re talking about

HELP!

[sodacrisps]

Hi

I did half a thing and this lovely piece by dear @tiramegtoons pushed me to finish it up a bit more

No, right?

(also hi I’m back kinda/kinda not, I’m working on it)

[bblueology]

Movie: The Holdovers 

The movie is able to capture the feelings of being alone and also having people with you at the same time. It is able to leave you with a sad taste in your mouth but also reminds you of the appreciation that should be had for living. The aesthetic is so specific and holds a nostalgia for a feeling that you have never had before. The movie examines the different kinds of loss in life, Mary being the loss of her child, Angus being the loss of connection with family, and Paul his loss for academic success. Each character is done so well, their character growth is realistic and does not end in a big shift. It would be unrealistic to have their problems naturally get better, and their problems honestly got worse. The rise and fall of the plot was natural, the cinematography of the movie is beautiful, as was the dialogue. 

The feelings that Angus had are very relatable. Being the last student to be picked up or not fully fitting into a single group perfectly  so you get stuck with the teachers, who are also just wanna go home,  is more relatable than all the teen movies that are made (sure most is satire but it is still important to have films that students can actually relate to). I am getting sick of teen movies like Mean Girls that are just a waste of something that might be interesting that deal with students. More movies, especially about students, should be pretty and pieces of art. While school is not the best time it is not something that should be romanticized in a romcom, school is about getting an education to be successful and proud of the work that you produce, whether you go to college or not. And some of the class are dumb and irritating but that does not mean that all teachers are evil people and they should be pranked and punished by the students. It is fun to poke fun at the school system and how certain classes are but it is not something that should be mocked as much as it is. And with the newer generation being the way they are with teachers it is more important than ever for students to not be filled with the perception that everything about school is bad. 

Students are people, teachers are people, the janitors that clean the school are people, the cafeteria worker is a person, and the admin (though they make bad decisions that are not always agreeable) are people. Respect others and the school….

This got a little more about a genre and not about the movie as much.... NOT PROOF READ

[callmeabee]

I think I accidentally tapped into some potential Jalala x Rinor angst for y'all's fanfics in my new cult of the Lamb save file (since I'm hyper-fixating on it still)

I was going through the Silk Cradle (third run through before the final run for the boss) when Shamura came up for the second follower fight event, and it just so happened to have one of the two followers chosen to fight me be Rinor. What makes this worse is that, in this specific save, my Jalala has the Terrified of death trait.

[xiaoklong]

Okay. Im not a writer i just read. But hear me out. Enid as harley quinn and wedneaday as batman/joker.

Unhinged Enid and justice wednesday or unhunged wednesday. Is it just me?!

[k3doodles]

tell us more about smoothie girl plsplspls i love her

AAAAA tysm for asking!!

smoothie girl's name is Nana! she's 23 and as I mentioned makes smoothies. Nana is in college for a mathematics degree and is working at a smoothie shop full time to help pay for it. she's pretty close with the shop owner's daughter May, sisters almost

her favorite food is eggrolls! Usually a pretty healthy diet due to what the shop has to eat. favorite color is a nice dark orange, like the kind you see all over during fall. weirdly a morning person and doesn't drink coffee on top of it.

personality wise she's definitely a "mind my own business" person. a woman of few words for sure. she's not the type to hide her annoyance and doesn't care much if she hurts feelings. the same is also true if she has something nice to say. honest to her core kinda girl

Nana does not have a bf or any close friends in college. the most she hangs out with is her roommate or if May's friends stop by and pester her. mom friend basically lol

she doesn't have any biological siblings and is on good terms with both her parents, though is probably closer with her aunt. she stays in a dorm at school with a very nervous girl whom I haven't decided on a name for yet 👀 Nana likes fashion so most of her space in the dorm is for that.

May usually comes into work after school so her and Nana only have 2 hours to work together. if Nana doesn't have too much work to do back at school she'll stay a bit longer to help May with her homework.

people don't really ask about my ocs often so I hope this was a normal response. lmk if there's anything else you want to know! (thank you again you're so sweet!!❤️❤️)

[imawholeassmood]

Read Between the Lines

read it on ao3

Lena reads the review, rubs her temples a few times, then reads it again. There is no way Super_Girl has rated this book five stars and then wrote multiple paragraphs waxing poetic about how fantastic it was. Lena already submitted her own one-star review which included her breakdown of the writing, the characters, and the plot, of which this book had none.

For months, Lena has been seeing Super_Girl reviews pop up on the same books Lena recently finished. She wondered at this point if Super_Girl might be doing this on purpose – reading the same books just so she could rate the book the opposite of whatever Lena did. At first, it was simple - “Loved it!” or “Couldn’t get into this one,” but as of late, the reviews had gotten longer and more descriptive.

Lena herself always used the same formula for reviewing books: overall star rating with a breakdown of her thoughts on the characters, the plot, and the writing. Books, like most things in life, are easy to rate when you understand the evaluation system. Books follow formulas and rules for a reason – it’s what makes them good. A romance novel, for instance, requires a “happily ever after.” Without it, it cannot be considered a romance, and it certainly wouldn’t be a good one.

So, as Lena reads the latest review by Super_Girl, Lena can’t help but leave a comment. Maybe this person simply needs an education on the book rating system.

“What criteria do you use when rating a book?”

It’s a good starting place for this conversation. Lena has amassed quite the following with people interested in her book reviews and the last thing she wants to do is stir up internet drama to damage her good reputation. She knows how easy it is for people to take something out of context.

The reply comes almost immediately.

“Vibes!”

Lena blinks a few times, then closes the browser and leaves her laptop for the night.

**

Super_Girl does it again with another five-star rating for a book that made Lena seriously consider contacting the literary award agencies to complain about their selection. The book sounded like it was AI generated and had zero plot. And the characters? Don’t even get her started.

“How can you consider this a masterpiece?” she writes under the review. “There is zero substance in this book. It’s just a bunch of flowery words that mean nothing and make no sense. If this is your idea of romance, then I’d hate to be your girlfriend.”

Her phone rings and Lena spends the next hour talking with her assistant, Jess, about the priorities for the week and when they can finalize some presentations. Later, as she lays in bed scrolling on her phone, Lena thinks to check her goodreads account. There, under her latest comment, is a reply from Super_Girl.

“Amidst the turmoil of the crumbling world around them, two people take the time to write love letters to each other. What’s more romantic than that?

I want to meet you in every place I have loved.

I want to be in contact with you.

Swoon.”

Speaking of taking things out of context.

While Lena can see Super_Girl’s point, that’s not enough to change her mind about the book. Especially not in the context of it being a sci-fi fantasy that relegated war to a backdrop in much the same way Hollywood did with Pearl Harbor. Don’t get her started. She types out a response before closing the webpage and going to sleep.

“Relationships develop over time. Even if I agreed with your assessment, this book still lacked any real narrative and there’s zero reason to believe these two people would fall in love. They don’t know anything about each other except that they can write a decent letter.”

**

Oh, no, Lena thinks. Her latest read has her questioning her entire belief system about books. She liked the book. Not because it had a great plot. Not because she was rooting for the characters. She liked the book because…it gave her good vibes. She genuinely had a good time reading it, despite it being a complete shitshow. This never happened to her before.

She opens her goodreads page to leave her review and finds that Super_Girl hasn’t read this one yet. She feels the slightest pang of disappointment but pushes through to her review. At the end of her standard format, she adds a new category: vibes.

It takes a few days, and Lena finds herself checking her account every few hours. She’s sitting at her desk and scrolling on her phone when she gets a notification that Super_Girl commented on her review.

“Vibes?!?! I’m SUPER proud of you! And we agree the characters were awful and the plot was weak, but it was well-written.”

She doesn’t even realize she’s smiling until Jess comments about it.

“Oh, nothing,” she says and waves her hand. “Just a literary rival.”

Jess looks at her. “You’re smiling because of…a rival?”

Is that what they were? The word didn’t really feel like a good fit, but Lena goes with it.

“Agreed with me on a point. Can we please stay focused?”

And they do. Lena and Jess go over the latest reports and prepare for an upcoming meeting with one of their international partners. Lena doesn’t think about Super_Girl again until she’s lying in bed and that damn smile creeps backs onto her face.

**

Her next review is not a good one. It makes Lena question the romance genre as a whole. Has the world become so used to being treated like garbage, people can’t even tell the difference between healthy and toxic love?

She’s barely hit submit when Super_Girl comments on her review.

“They were flirting the whole time!”

Lena is still sour enough she doesn’t bother to hold back on her response.

“Flirting where? Being in each other’s orbit is not flirting. Why can’t people just say, ‘I like you and I’d like to go on a date with you?’ instead of whatever BS was happening in this book. Honestly, I’m worried for your love life if you think this is a healthy way to approach communication.”

Super_Girl goes silent for a long while after that.

Lena worries something may have happened and questions whether she should reach out. They haven’t gone this long without a reciprocal review since they started this little dance of theirs almost a year ago. She finds herself rereading their reviews and wondering about who Super_Girl might be behind the screen name. There’s no profile photo, no personal information at all. Just a single word.

Golly.

Lena smiles at that. In fact, she smiles at everything Super_Girl has written. While they may not agree on books, Lena can’t deny that whoever is behind the reviews is a wordsmith who comes across as the sweetest human on the planet.

It surprises her when she receives a notification that she has been selected to read a new release ahead of publication in exchange for an honest review. Lena doesn’t usually agree because she doesn’t want to give people any reason to think her reviews are biased or influenced in any way. She’s about to deny the request, but the cover art depicts two women, one blonde, the other brunette, and Lena never turns down a sapphic story. She accepts the request without another thought.

**

When Lena finishes The Write Stuff, she starts it over and reads it again, cover to cover. The writing, the pacing, and the storytelling are superb. It’s as if the author has studied every article about how a romance novel should be written. The characters are so well written, she has clear images of who each of these women are. She understands their desires, their fears, and their motives. Not only does she care about these people as a couple, but she also cares about them individually in a way she hasn’t cared about a character in a long time. As for the plot itself? It’s perfectly cheesy and still somehow realistic enough to be believable that it could happen in real life.

Lena hasn’t felt this…satisfied by a book since well, since she can’t remember.

So, that’s exactly what she writes in her review.

“I especially loved this line:

I would rewrite history if it meant a chance for a happy future with you.”

When she’s done, she looks up the author and finds that she’s written one other book.

Lena doesn’t recall reading it, but when she clicks on the title, she finds her review posted with a few hundred likes and several dozen comments. One star and zero positive things to say about it. Lena can’t help but think how far the author has come from this first book to the most recent one. It’s an impressive improvement, and Lena Luthor isn’t easily impressed.

Supergirl leaves a comment on her review a few days later.

“It looks like the author has been paying attention to your feedback.”

**

The following week, Lena is staring at the meeting invitation with furrowed brows and a healthy dose of confusion. She presses the call button on the speaker on her desk.

“Yes, Miss Luthor?” Jess says.

“Jess, why do I have a meeting with Supergirl on my calendar?”

Jess is quiet for a moment. She’s quiet so long, in fact, that Lena’s door opens and a blond woman with thick-rimmed glasses wearing chinos and a tucked-in button down steps just inside. She has a nervous smile and fidgets with her glasses.

Lena recognizes her from the photo bio she still has pulled up on her web browser and stands to greet her.

“Miss Danvers,” she says, “please, come in. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Kara Danvers, author of The Write Stuff, who Lena has been internet stalking for the past week shifts in the doorway. Lena comes around the front of her desk. They stare at each other in silence for a moment before Lena hears a faint “go” from Jess in the reception area. That makes Kara shake out of her stupor.

She brings her hand out from behind her back and holds her arm at full length with a bouquet of…plumerias. Lena can’t believe what she’s seeing. Her favorite flowers which represent love and new beginnings are being offered to her by this stunning woman who wrote one of her favorite books of the year. Lena looks from the flowers back to Kara’s face.

“I like you, Lena Reads” Kara says, “and I would like to go on a date with you.”

[leleyro]

The same way you can’t force people to enter your life, you can’t force them to stay.

Let them go; let yourself heal. You’ll be okay, always have been, and always will be.

[m-ayo-o]

i looveeeee those fics where it just jumps STRAIGHT INTO THE ACTION LIKE HHNGNGHHHH then scrolls back a minute to recap HOW THE FUCK u got there then builds back up into it again it'ssssssssss perfectttttt

[soul-xhoney]

1:10

You’re still the one I think of when I have things to tell; and when I wore your sweatshirt yesterday I realized how much I missed your smell. It lingered…

Like all the things I’ve mentally made note of since the day we met, it stained my brain the way we stained your counter with the red wine we drank

Or the way I’d stand to lock your hair after a late afternoon beach run; like the touch of your warm skin that embraces me like the sun

Like the words to the song you wrote, the art drew or the sculpture you made; the look on your face when you showed me

You linger…

[rennorthernlights]

The Beginning of The End

Back on my angst again! Again, I ain’t a writer but I do daydream a lot. I tend to just write in my notes and call it a day. Anyways!

Warnings!! Blood, guns, torture, death, cursing, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

——————————————————-

The team all felt it to some degree. Something bad was going to happen. Price was going through more cigars than usual, Ghost was thrumming his fingers on his thighs, Gaz was more on edge, and Soap couldn’t stop bouncing his leg. The mission was far too easy. The type of easy that it raised the alarm bells in Price’s mind.

How many days has it been? Been far too many or least it feels like it has. Should’ve known it would go bad. Price should’ve seen the signs when they got the intel so quickly. He should’ve made Ghost check the case and because Price didn’t listen to his instincts he and his men were captured. Being bruised and bloody is normal but torture? Even Price in his age and experience knew that he and his men could only last so long.

“Laswell. Just wait for Laswell.” He grunts out, hands tied behind his back. His mind reeling in ideas on how he and his boys can escape. But no matter how hard he tried to get the ropes off it just wouldn’t budge. Being tortured in rounds. Sometimes it was Gaz first or Soap or Ghost. The sick bastards never made a pattern so none of the men could prepare. He hears yelling and Scottish curses and he knows Soap is back. Ghost already had his…turn of torture and that means that it’s either him or Gaz next. Price is hoping that it’s him and not Gaz.

Soap is forcibly shoved into the chair, Soap struggles but weakened from the torture…he can only struggle so much before his arms are pulled and tied tightly with a rope. “Soap you with me?” Price says, worry in his tone as he sees just how badly they hurt the Scot. But Soap doesn’t speak.

Something isn’t right. Something in Price’s gut tells him that something bad is about to happen. Before Price can even voice it, the man that forced Soap in his chair presses the gun head to Soaps head. His breath caught in his throat as Gaz and Ghost tense up.

The man then speaks, “I know none of you are gonna speak. In fact,” he presses the gun harder to Soap’s head and Ghost outright lunges forward. The ropes around Ghost hold true though and the man clicks his tongue in amused disapproval. “I know y’all would die than speak…but not everyone has to.” The man says it like he’s being generous. Like offering a bug to be crushed by the hand instead of the boot.

Price growls, tired of the game, “Spit it out already.” The man tisks in amusement.

“Eager to die are we, Captin?” He laughs and removes the gun from Soaps head and the team slightly relax. “Hears the deal. Because I’m just so generous.” Chuckling like he just told the funniest joke. “Your dear Sergeant is gonna choose who lives and,” points the gun from Gaz, to Ghost, and then to Price. “…who dies.”

The room falls deathly silent, like hours have passed when it’s only been seconds. “Oh! And Soap, you can’t choose yourself. No, no, no,” the man grins sickening as he sees the turmoil in Soap’s eyes. The fact that Soap is deciding the fate of everyone. “Only one gets to live. Happy choosing! You have,” he looks down at his watch. “20 minutes.”

20 minutes. 20 minutes to decide the fate of the team. The man walks out, the sound of the door slamming behind them as the team fall into utter silence. Any lesser team would’ve been begging, begging to live. As is the ‘Live’ instinct, to push down the others to live. To be the last one standing and yet…yet it’s silent.

“I’ll die.” Ghost’s gruff voice cuts through the silence like nails on a chalk board. Gaz and Soap immediately protest. “I’m not letting any of you die for me.” He says so resolutely. Ghost has run the scenario in his head probably as much as Price. Having so much experience in the military he just knows. Same as Price, that there’s no getting out of this. Not without all of them dying and Ghost can’t have that.

“If anyone has a better chance it’s you and Price.“ Gaz tries to say but Price glares. Seethes at seeing Gaz so willing to die. But it’s easy to sacrifice yourself to save the ones you love.

“No. No, we can try. We can…” Soap clambers as he tries to think. Tries to find something to make the ropes on his arms budge. “W-We can..we can do something..”

“Soap,” Price calls out as he already sees the spiral, “Sergeant,” he calls again as Soap starts to panic. The burden of choosing who gets to live and who dies, it’s just too much. “Johnny!” Price yells and he jolts. “Breath. That’s an order.” Price says firmly before looking back at Gaz.

“I’m not going to be the reason any of you die.” He says firmly to Gaz but Gaz outright glares.

“Sir, with all due respect. If anyone can give them hell it’s you or Ghost.” Gaz says, putting on a brave front but deep down he wants to breakdown. Barely in his late 20s and still has so much to give but he knows. He knows that Ghost or Price has the better chance at getting revenge. “Avenge us.” He says firmly. “One of you has too.” Gaz says, a finality in his voice. Nudged his leg out as much as possible to Soap to give him some fo of physical touch. “I’m going with you, Johnny.”

“Fuck!” Ghost yells and his head kills forward. Anger swelling in his bones but also desperation. Desperate to die so they can have a chance.

Price is fairing no better as Gaz seems so confident in him or Ghost. But how? How can he when Price lead them all to this? Ghost is arguing with Gaz and Soap. Arguing so loudly and ordering them to choose differently, to think differently. Price has always done well under pressure, always has. It’s what made him such a good sniper.

Minutes go by and Prices internal clock is telling him that’s it’s almost time. He closes his eyes and thinks back on everything. The time he was a boy to the time he joined. Meeting Farah and Hadir. Alex and Laswell. And then to meeting Simon. Memories flooding back to when he met Kyle, practically kidnapping him and he chuckles to himself. Remembering the time he met Johnny, the Scot always so vibrant. For a bit it all feels quiet even with the commotion.

“Enough.” Price says as Gaz and Ghost are screaming. Soap’s eyes so down cast it’s like he’s dead already. “Johnny,” Price says and the Scot looks up. Silently speaking with their eyes and Ghost tenses up. “I’m going with you.” Price says, a smile gracing his face even as Ghost yells.

“No! Fucking no.” Ghost growls out. Looking at Soap and silently pleading, begging him to choose anyone else.

“Alright then, Captain.” Soap smiles back. Seems that Soap didn’t even have to choose.

“Just don’t bore me with those god awful fishing metaphors.” Gaz grins, a laugh right after as he knowingly chooses his fate. Ghost is yelling at them. Arguing with them to choose him to die instead. The door slams open.

“Times up! Ready or not.” The man walks in and his eyebrows arch as he sees the 3 men chuckling, looking at each other in peace while the other yells in anger. “So I see we’ve chosen?” Ghost curses at him, “Oh don’t be such an asshole. So,” he looks at Soap. “Who gets to live?” The gun aimed at Soap. “Ghost gets to li-“

BANG

“No!!” Ghost screams out, the Scots blood sprawled on Gaz as the Scots body falls forward. The ropes holding the lifeless body. “NO!!”

BANG

….

“STOP! FUCKING STOP!”

….

BANG

“And as promised.” The man grins, Ghost seethes with so much anger. Tears down his face as he yells in anguish. “Aww don’t be so sad. You get to live.” He laughs as Ghost struggles in the binds.

“I’m going to fucking KILL YOU!” Ghost growls out. Didn’t even get to say goodbye. Didn’t even get to tell them he loves them. Didn’t get to say how much they saved him from his own spiral of pain.

“Yeah,” the man laughs and hits Ghost hard on his head. Forcibly knocking him out.

[ulalamonz]

A two shot fanfic I made for a Bleach brainrot

Some sketches I made for the fic. This fic was a beast to write and i am not a definitely not author lmao