#on the off chance i wake up in horrific pain

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU Part 5

Part 4

Warning on this one for description of vivisection injuries

Bruce is the first out of the Batmobile when they pull into the cave specifically to raise a finger to his lips and sign to his collected children to be quiet.

Dick, Damian, and Tim all beat them there, and Steph seems to have invited herself back from patrol in order to see what's up with the creature nobody could see over video feed.

Alfred hovers quietly because of the unknown injuries that likely need treating.

The kids all give him varying prompting looks of confusion about the order as he moves to open Cass's door for her.

He turns and signs to them what Cass had carefully signed to him in the car.

She thinks he's asleep.

Everyone's eyes bug out in surprise, Dick and Steph both making faces like they want to coo out an ‘awwwww.’

Damian seems like he would be tempted to do the same if he wasn't still more than a little wary.

Cass climbs out of the car slowly and carefully, trying not to disturb the sinuous shadow who still has his head tucked into her shoulder and tail and arms wrapped around her.

Steph's eyes get wide, the only one of the kids present who hasn't seen him yet. Alfred barely reacts aside from a slight rise of the brows.

Alfred inclines his head towards the medbay, but Cass hesitates and shakes her head.

It's a little difficult when she's trying to make sure the creature stays secure, but she manages to sign awkwardly behind his back.

Very scared when I mentioned doctors. Probably trauma.

Waking up in anything resembling a medical facility probably wouldn't go well, in other words. Alfred hums quietly, mulling that over for a moment before he nods and gestures for the kids to come help him.

Quietly and efficiently, the group pulls a bed and supplies out of the isolated medbay and into the cave at large, closer to the lounge area the kids have slowly built up through the years than anything.

Ideally the change of venue will be unnecessary, but if the creature does wake up it's worth trying to lessen the chances of immediate backlash.

It's really no wonder he passed out, Bruce thinks. Cass had made it clear he was exhausted and on the verge. None of them are under any illusions that that's not why he accepted her help.

She was the least terrifying option and he was running on fumes.

Alfred glances at Cass, and that's all the prompting she needs to come over and very gently lean down to set the creature on his back on the bed.

Alfred is just as gentle when he has to carefully pluck the shadowy claws out of her cape in order to get him to let go, and Cass carefully unwinds the long tail from her waist and legs.

When she straightens back up, Bruce closes his eyes hard for a moment and bites back a wave of nausea.

Jesus Christ. Medical trauma? No fucking wonder.

Bruce forces himself to open his eyes and look.

Whatever this creature is, whoever he is, he must have escaped straight off of an operating table. The green blood is leaking from haphazard stitches just barely holding a massive Y incision on his torso together.

Vivisection.

Distantly, Bruce hears Dick retching. Sees his kids in varying states of distress over the same conclusions Bruce has just come to.

Mostly, he's focusing on trying to breathe through his anger. It's of no use to any of them right now - they need him calm.

It's strange, looking at the creature's face now. With eyes and mouth closed it's a blank slate of black, no features to be found. Like a mannequin head, misty white hair still unbound by gravity.

Parts of him are just barely translucent, mostly the edges of limbs. Bruce has never seen anything like him.

Alfred catches his eye with practiced ease, signing quickly and looking solemn. Bruce can see the pain hidden behind his calm features, his dismay that something horrific has been done to a living creature.

There is not much I can do without opening him back up, especially not knowing what he is or what is normal. Disinfect, stitch and bandage. Then hope for the best.

Bruce sighs slowly through his nose, feeling helpless but nodding. 

Alfred turns to Cass for a moment.

I assume because you are calm that he is not meant to be breathing?

Bruce nearly chokes, eyes darting back to the dark figure on the bed. Indeed, there's no motion.

Cass nods. Her chest is very green.

Hasn't been. Seems fine.

He doesn't breathe - at least not visibly. Is he like a salamander, does he take oxygen in through his skin?

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter right now. This creature - this boy - needs help. He needs his chest disinfected and his scant few stitches redone.

From the looks of them, Bruce would bet money that he did those stitches himself not too long ago.

Masterpost

[cheriladycl01]

Against the clock - Pierre Gasly x Driver! Reader

Plot: You realize going into turn 12 of the Shanghai Circuit that your brakes aren't working that well. So what happens when they fully break going down the longest straight into a hairpin?

Y/N Radio: Y/N- Breaks are feeling loose Engineer- Copy that we are checking them now. Engineer- All seems fine, push it down the straight Y/N and you have a chance at a podium Y/N- And the car is okay? Engineer- Data says ...

Before anyone can react warning signals come all up around the car, your breaks had fully locked up and you were currently going over 200 mph down the straight of the Shanghai Circuit.

Y/N Radio: Y/N- Guys i cant do anything. I cant stop the car. I'm so sorry i...

And with that they heard and saw the crash of you skidding over the edging and your car flipping over into the bumpers. The sound of the crash was horrific and your engineer was panicked as he heard your grunt and whimper on impact.

Y/N Radio: Engineer- Y/N can you hear me? Are you okay? Engineer- Y/N Please are you okay? YN? Engineer- She's unresponsive! Horner in the Background- Keep trying to reach out to her while the medic gets there.

You were laying unresponsive in the car, half out of your seat and your head dangling down to the floor on your tilted car. However, the front half had snapped of and the engine was now leaking the racing fuel all down your suit. One spark from your car and you'd be toast.

Piastri Radio: Oscar- Was that Max or Y/N? Engineer- Y/N Oscar- Is she okay? It looks really bad! Engineer- Red Flag Oscar that's a Red Flag

You started to come too, you look around confused as to the position you were currently in. You grunted a strangled cry coming from you as you tried to move from the sheer pain coursing through your body. Tears come out your eyes in frustration of the situation.

You still couldn't breathe properly it was so labored and the balaclava and helmet weren't helping.

Gasly Radio: Pierre- Karel, is that Y/N in the Red Bull? Engineer- Red Flag Pierre Red Flag Pierre- Is it Y/N? Engineer- Come back to the pits Pierre- Fuck

You eventually had got yourself out of the car by crawling, under and around the halo. Someone reached in and helped grab you hand.

"Y/N are you okay?" the medic asks as he sat you upright on the floor and a shake of you head. You couldn't actually speak right now. Your hands shakily came up to try take your helmet off to help you breath better but your hands were numb and as your tried to peel the helmet off your hands refused to function.

"Help" you said in the quietest voice, what you didn't know what that there was a mic on the medic to pick up everything immediately to the ambulance that was on its way.

It was also going to the paddocks so everyone who could hear's hearts were currently breaking.

The medic pulled the helmet off her, the first thing he saw was the tears lining her face. But after inspecting further he could see red coming from the slit in her balaclava. He ripped it off the hair sticking to her wet and sweaty forehead.

Everyone could see from the pits and everyone was holding a breath as they watched a spaced out Y/N start to fall to the floor. Luckily the medic grabbed her in time holding her up. He inspected the place where her visor had cracked on her helmet and cut her across the cheek.

"Y/N Hey come on, wake up. Medic car is nearly here!" he says to you but your body had become dead weight.

In the pits each garage was as worried as the other.

In RedBull Max was beside himself, he saw you as a little sister and the fact that the crash was as bad as it was had him stood with Christian Horner rubbing his hands together. His headphones were around his neck.

In Mercedes, George and Lewis stood together talking, tears in George's eyes wondering if you were okay. Where you were close to Alex you would also hang out with George and you'd become close with him.

Next was the Ferrari Garage with both Carlos and Charles rewatching the crash with hands over their mouths, and similar vibes came from McLaren.

Pierre was sat down on the edge of his car, head in his hands while trying to listen to his engineer who came next to him.

"Tracks been cleared race is about to restart. Y/N has been taken to the nearest hospital"

"Okay" he says sadly getting back in the car.

All the fans could tell that everyone's minds were elsewhere, the reporters stuttering more as they continued commentating even through private live updates on you condition, and the mechanics were constantly checking their phones.

The race had finished and Pierre had come P4 just wanting the race to be over. Max had come P1 with Lando close behind him and George in P3.

He didn't wait around for the podiums, he went straight to you in the hospital. He saw your parents stood outside the room, they had clearly been crying and you mother was shaking her head at the doctor thanking him. She turned to her husband and cried into his chest.

Pierre however didn't know if this was from sadness or relief.

"Erm hello" Pierre says politely, walking up to them sheepishly.

"Oh Pierre, come here" you mother said pulling him into a hug. He accepted having know your family for a very long time, and he'd only got closer to them since you had started dating.

"Is she okay?" Pierre asks looking over your mothers shoulder to double check.

"Yes, she will be I don't think she'll be racing in Miami but she'll be back for Imola. When they brought her here they thought it was a lot worse, but you know what she's like" she smiles.

"Can i see her please" he asks.

"Of course hun, we'll wait here"

He walks into your room, seeing you sat there doing tests with the doctor where he was shining a torch in you eyes to check your responses.

"Y/N?"

"Pierre! Oh I'm so glad you here! How did the race finish they refuse to tell me! Did Max win!" you ask sitting up straighter seeing your boyfriend.

"Red Bull through and through" he shakes his head chuckling at you coming to sit on the edge of the bed.

"What do you mean baby?"

"You dont care where you boyfriend ended up?" he laughs looking at you in shock before you slam your hand up to your mouth.

"Look, I'm gonna blame the pain meds they've put me on. That shit is fire" you exclaim looking at the doctor who is looking between you and Pierre who is trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Well, Max came P1, Lando came P2 and Lewis P3. I came behind Lewis in P4" he smiles, thinking that despite the circumstances this was his best drive of the season.

"God, I'm going to have to crash more if your getting P4!" you laugh and he looks up shocked shaking his head vigorously.

"No way. I never want you getting in a crash again ma cherie. We were all so worried" he answers, pulling you in a little placing a light kisses on your head.

"I love you, P but I'm really sleepy" you admit, the meds starting to take affect and make you drowsy.

"I love you too"

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc

[morganwrites12672]

You Don't Have to Be Okay

Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: Sam has trouble coping with his nightmares. She helps him.

Rating: PG-13

A/N: This made me cry while writing. Enjoy!

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It was gradual.

She noticed how tired Sam was all of the time. She blamed it on the usual stress of hunting. After a few months she begins to notice how it's every single time she sees him. It's almost like he never has the chance to sleep.

She mentions it to Dean, who tells her that Sam's handling things just fine. She doesn't agree.

During a hunt that Sam was doing with her, she noticed the nightmares. She would ask him about it the next day, or offer to grab coffee whenever he woke up in a cold sweat. The results were the same every single time. He would brush off her concern, just like Dean had.

She was a light sleeper, an occupational hazard. It was the last night at the piece of shit hotel with Sam. She awoke to the sound of mumbling and someone thrashing around. Her hand went to the hilt of the knife hidden between the bed and the dresser. Once her weapon was safely in her hands she flicked on the lamp.

Her eyes scanned the room. It had just been Sam. She sighed, dropping the knife on the little dresser. She stood and sat on the edge of Sam's bed. She didn't want to wake him but the pained mumbles slipping past his lips, and his horrified expression made her.

She was careful, knowing he would be frightened and disoriented whenever he woke up. She shook his shoulders, making sure to be ready for whenever he would wake up. He sat up, looking like he had seen a ghost. She gently grabbed his wrists whenever his fists went flying.

He blinked a few times, realizing where he was. And who he had almost punched.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Shit," He quickly apologized. His expression still held the same horrified look. It broke her heart to see him like this.

She gave him a soft smile and let go of his wrists. He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to fix all of the pieces sticking in every direction. She was patient, letting him wake up a bit more. She wouldn't start prying whenever he was this disoriented.

"It's okay," She said, placing a hand on his knee.

"No, it's not!" Sam replied, visibly distraught. He could have punched her. All for trying to help him.

"Is it about Jess?" She blurted. She wanted to help. Maybe if he talked about it, maybe she could help him. Seeing him suffer like this was painful. It hurt seeing such a close friend in pain.

Her father was a hunter too. She had grown up around the Winchester boys. She had always been good friends with both of, especially Sam. The two were close, well, as close as they could be with the lifestyle they led.

". . . Yeah, it is," Sam replied softly, looking down at his hands. He could not bring himself to meet her gaze. Not with the way he felt tears stinging his eyes. He didn't want her to see him like this.

"I'm here, and I'll listen. I'll do whatever you need me to do," She said.

Sam sniffled. He finally moved his gaze from his hands and looked at her as a tear finally spilled down his cheek. He didn't understand why she cared so much. Sure, they were friends. He didn't feel like he deserved this though.

"You can't bring her back. You can't stop her from getting burned on the god-damn ceiling just because I left her."

His words made her do a double take. She had known that his girlfriend's death had been horrific, and had involved a fire. She hadn't realized just how truly horrible it had been.

"No, I can't. But, I can help you," She said softly, brushing a tear off his cheek.

She wrapped her arms around him. He shuddered under her touch. He was too exhausted, in more than one way. He couldn't resist the comfort of her arms. He buried his head in her neck and let the tears fall.

She might not be able to save Jess from the horrible fate she had met, but she could help Sam. The poor boy needed it. The nightmares might only be about Jess, and that horrible night, but the scars hunting left on him went deeper than his skin. He felt them branded into his soul. Horrible memories waiting to punish him again.

He was more sensitive than Dean and his father. He never truly got over those things. He thought about them all of the time. It was like he couldn't escape. Walking down the street he would see someone who reminded him of a person he couldn't save. It was always something.

Maybe she really could help.

He clung to her even tighter, grateful for her silent comfort. Once the tears dried up, and he felt like he would never be able to cry again, he pulled away. He awkwardly rubbed at his tear stained cheeks.

"Thank you," He said softly, hating how weak his voice sounded.

"You don't need to thank me."

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A/N: Thank you for much for reading! My requests are currently open. Please leave a comment and reblog!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I told my girlfriend to lose weight?

Okay, so that sounds horrific, but bear with me.

To be clear, I (23M) could not care less what weight she (27F) is or what she looks like. I love this woman with my whole heart and none of it is about her appearance. We’re pretty much engaged in all but name, the only reason it’s not official is because we don’t have money to even think of weddings right now, and I plan to spend the rest of my life with her.

Thing is, she’s obese. Like, medically, not in a derogatory sense. This is massively affecting her health. She’s constantly out of breath, constantly in pain, constantly struggling, and it’s leading to other conditions such as sleep apnea. She thinks she has asthma because she’s always struggling to breathe, but I’m 95% sure it just comes down to weight and her doctor has said the same, but she tends to write it off as doctors being fatphobic.

Much of this is due to the fact that she used to struggle with binge-eating disorder. She no longer binge eats, but she does overeat in general because her body is so accustomed to constant food, so she gets painfully hungry and dizzy after 2-3 hours of not eating.

I’ve tried to encourage her to exercise with me, diet with me, count calories etc., but she gives up super easy when she doesn’t see immediately results. She also says herself that she finds it very difficult to see herself accurately - she has the reverse of “typical” body dysmorphia, where she sees herself as thinner than she is, so she genuinely sees herself as thin or like slightly curvy. (To be clear, she is very visibly obese, people comment on this often, and while I’ll be the first to go fists up if someone’s a dick to her about it as people have been I also am genuinely worried about her health.) Because of that she has no motivation to lose the weight because she just doesn’t see it. It’s bad enough that she’s been told by doctors she WILL likely struggle later in life with heart failure, diabetes etc if she doesn’t lose weight, yet her POV is more, “It can’t be that bad because I’m not that big so I don’t need to worry about it”. She has occasional reality checks, most recently she put her measurements into some site that shows an image of what you look like from a third person perspective, and she was completely shocked like “I can’t look like that. Do I? This is a wake up call”, but days later it’s completely lost and she’s back to saying she’s not that big again.

She wants kids with me, and I just absolutely do not want to commit to having children with her when I know there’s a not-insignificant chance she’ll have serious health issues in the future that could mean she’s not with us for as long as she could be. Both for the kids’ sake, and selfishly because I want her around! I don’t want to think about something happening to her earlier in life and being without her.

But I just don’t know what to do. Gently suggesting it hasn’t worked, saying I’m worried about her health hasn’t worked, saying I don’t want kids until she’s healthy hasn’t worked (even if she’s still overweight I really don’t care as long as she’s not in a “danger zone” y’know?), trying to meal plan with her hasn’t worked, trying to get her to keep track of calories hasn’t worked, trying to exercise with her hasn’t worked.

People I’ve asked in the past have told me to be firm about it, but I’m incredibly reluctant to do that - I struggled with anorexia for most of my teenage and adult life and I know how deep it can cut to have your weight criticised or commented on. I don’t want to be that dick who basically calls someone I love very much unhealthy and fat and tells her to lose weight or no kids or some horrible shit like that.

But I just. Can’t work out what to do. She does express a willingness to lose weight, she says she wants to, she just doesn’t have that motivation to do it. I don’t know what else we can try.

AITA for focusing on this in the first place? Like am I actually just being fatphobic, or is my own past with EDs influencing my thinking? Am I going about it all wrong? Should I just accept it as something that’ll be a potential issue in future and deal with it then or am I fair to worry about it early on?

What are these acronyms?

[ashthewaterghoul]

I assume at one point all of the Papas had a “favorite” Ghoul to sleep with and to -sleep- with. Who’s bedding down with whom?

Oooo okay...

I'm going to go off "canon" and only use the Ghouls that each Papa had with them on stage.

First, literal sleeping with,

Primo - Earth.

They are very close, manning the greenhouses and flower beds together at any chance they get. Often they like to nap together before, during or after their work, or just sleep through the night in each other's beds. Earth also grows and makes teas that relax Primo, and help him sleep through the night. A rare occurrence since his rise to Papa-hood, because he had to spend so much time away from his beloved fratellini, and was often worried sick about them. Even more so following their rises, and their trips away.

Secondo - Omega.

Secondo is a world class insomniac. Quintessence can knock him right out and make him feel rested when he wakes up in the morning. Those treatments from the infirmary just make him feel worse, and the strength he needs poses a great risk of severe side effects. Omega gets to be privy to the lovely sight of a peaceful Secondo. He smiles in his sleep and looks about 10 years younger. Secondo always feels safe being held by the big Quint.

Terzo - Alpha.

Yes, he may be the Ministry's resident asshole like 99% of the time, but that 1% is reserved for those he loves. Terzo is one of them. Terzo always pushes himself way too much in a desperate attempt to impress the Clergy, and has a lot of chronic pain leftover from sprains and injuries he refused to sit out for long enough to heal. Alpha's natural heat helps soothe it, and it's just so fucking cozy. Terzo also feels very very very safe in the hold of his Fire Ghoul that would rip the world apart just to get him the last sandwich, and often gets some of the best nights sleep ever.

Copia - Phantom.

The little Ghoul had been through a lot in the pits and during their early days topside. Phantom often craved the protection that Copia assured them they would receive in his charge, but felt like too much of a burden to ask for it. Often, Phantom would sleep on the floor by Copia's bed so they didn't wake him up. But Copia, ever restless, would find Phantom on the floor and lift them into his bed. Phantom eventually realised it was okay to ask, and Copia gave them a spare key for the room. Phantom felt safe, and Copia loved protecting his little pipistrello, often feeling like they were the child he never had. They both sleep very well on those nights.

Okay now the other kind of sleeping with...

MDNI from this point on, obviously.

Primo - Omega.

Primo has some horrific joint pain, but with a lovely dose of Quintessence, he feels younger than his brothers all over again. He adores how Omega is oh-so-careful with how much Quintessence the Papa is receiving and how he'll give Primo anything he wants. Whether it be fast or slow, rough or soft. Anything. Primo just gets to let go of worries about how his body will react and live out all the fantasies he could ever dream of, whether he's in command or not. And Omega will always help him deal with the after-effects.

Secondo - River.

Idk, it just makes sense to me. He made the mistake of looking over to River playing the bridge of 'Stand By Him', thrusting his bass into the audience. Bro's been fixated ever since. Secondo finds River is one of the only people he can completely drop his guard around & give into whatever that graceful & strong Water Ghoul wants of him. Secondo usually tops or at least doms all his sexual encounters, it's what everyone expects of him & he finds he can't drop that front. But he can let go & be River's. Secondo only ever subs for River, and for River only. He loves when River just uses him. No respect for his rank or what he represents, he's just as good as a common whore. Also loves when River makes love to him & builds Secondo back up piece by piece.

Terzo - Omega.

Need I explain? I don't think so but I will anyway lol. Omega was the first Ghoul that Terzo saw, interacted with and slept with. You never do forget your firsts, after all. Terzo chose his colour for his robes to match Omega's eyes and magic, and if they could soul-bond and mate in the way Ghouls did, they would do it. They did try, but the magic washed over Terzo and left Omega with a half-fulfilled bond that weighed on him constantly unless he was near Terzo. So naturally they go at it like rabbits and rarely spend a lot of time apart.

Copia - Cumulus.

HEAR ME OUT!!!! Copia loves all his Ghouls, but especially Cumulus. When Copia noticed he'd gained some weight, he became incredibly self-conscious. He quite literally fell on his knees one night and begged her for how she did it. And Cumulus worshiped that man. She kissed all along his stomach, ground herself onto the gorgeous rolls of pudge and made him feel so loved that he couldn't help but love himself. He loves being in control of their encounters, but what he loves even more than that is Cumulus being the sexiest Dominatrix you ever did see (he absolutely calls her 'Mommy' btw). They can also be just as soft, and are on the regular, just like that fateful night. Copia also returns the favour on the odd day when Cumulus struggles with her own self-image. There's just an understanding there, and no one can match it.

[salbei-141]

Good girl, stay quiet for me (Emmett x reader) Part 2 to A second chance

Masterlist

Part 1 (A second chance)

word count: 2.8k

warnings: 18+, smut, age gap (reader is early 20s and Emmett is late 30s), masturbation, voyeurism, angst, fluff, praise kink, very very slight degradation kink

a/n: y’all i am so apologetic if this smut is unreadable, i don’t think i’ve ever written smut before, so forgive me if it’s too horrific lol 

Anyway here’s part 2 of this 2-part series, enjoy!

:)

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Shaking the memories off, you stared as Emmett was drawing one of his sons again - over the last few weeks with each other, you had opened up more about your past lives. One particular night though, you had been sharing a memory with Emmett as he listened intently, holding your body in his arms as he sometimes did now. You had been crying at whatever painful memory you were sharing when you felt his hand come to the side of your face, tilting it up and placing his lips upon yours. You hadn’t pulled away - you’d be lying to yourself if you had said you didn’t like how it felt, even though you knew the age gap between you both was morally wrong. His lips were slightly chapped as were yours - but there was a tenderness to how he handled you - your lips both matching a rhythm, it felt right. But just as things were heating up, he had pulled away, looking at anything but you - it broke your heart, was he playing with you? You wanted to cuss him out, and ask what was wrong but feared causing too much noise, so just let him go. 

You just found yourself watching his back as he turned, collected his stuff and headed out of the hole you were in. What the fuck was that? How could he do something like that and then run with no explanation? You spent the rest of your night curled up on Emmett’s bed quietly crying to yourself, feeling so dejected as you realised you had slowly been developing feelings for the man you now shared your life with - how were you supposed to face him when he inevitably came back? Would he ask you to leave - realising he made a mistake? 

Emmett had walked off, deciding to take watch up on the top floors of the building you now knew as home. He sat, hunting rifle at his side, staring out the shattered windows at the surrounding overgrown weeds. He wanted to scream at himself for what he’d let happen - it was selfish of him. He knew where you had come from and he wanted to protect you - what if you thought he was just as bad as the men before him? He’d been discreetly fawning over you the past few weeks and he knew exactly when he found himself thinking about you in the way that he was. 

It was a couple of weeks into your stay with Emmett and he had gone on a small run for a few necessities - you had begged to go with him, but he had refused, and there was no way you could’ve convinced him. Instead of worrying about Emmett, you decided you could distract yourself - still keeping him in your thoughts. You had laid on his bed - which you now both shared and found yourself taking in his scent, relishing in it as you so often wished you could do. The day you met him you knew he was attractive, and the attraction to him had only grown since. You had countless restless nights, trying not to wake Emmett from his sleep as you’d feel a pool of wetness developing between your legs, aching for Emmett who lay peacefully next to you. On this particular day though, you allowed yourself to indulge in the fantasies you had been having of Emmett while no one was around.

Gently running your hand under your shirt and up to your chest, you placed your thumb and forefinger on your nipple - rolling it with tender pressure - letting a soft breath out at the thought of Emmett. You dreamed of how Emmett’s lips would feel on your breast - the sensitive buds being graced by the desperate sucking of his mouth. Not being able to tease yourself anymore, you moved your hand from your breasts to your neck, keeping a steady grip - only if it was Emmett’s hand - you felt feral, losing all sense of logic at the thought of the calloused caresses Emmett’s hands could provide. With your other hand, you trailed it down your stomach, reaching the band of your underwear, letting a soft whine out. Pushing beneath the band of your underwear, you glided your finger over your clit - your whole body was so sensitive - it had been so long since you’d been able to feel pleasure. Rubbing your clit in gentle circles, your mind was still focused on Emmett and how he’d feel between your legs. Trying to keep as quiet as you could - only letting the softest of moans escape your lips, you sped up, feeling as the heat in your abdomen intensified. Removing your fingers from your clit, you inserted them inside yourself, feeling the way your walls throbbed with a dire need to be filled by Emmett. As you effortlessly pumped in and out of yourself, hearing the way your pussy would squelch as your fingers continuously worked it - you could hear it echoing within the small room you were in and a part of you wished Emmett had been here to witness it. With a few more pumps of your fingers, you felt the coil in your abdomen tightening up and with one more push, and a quiet moan of Emmett’s name, you felt the coil snap as your orgasm rolled over your body, causing your thighs to tremble as you whimpered at the loss of your fingers, still not feeling like you had been full enough, to begin with. Letting out a final quiet breathy moan, you rolled onto your side and made quick action at cleaning yourself, and bringing your heart rate down to normal before Emmett would be back. However, unbeknownst to you, Emmett had heard your breathy moans as he was about to slide back into the pipe. Instead, he had found himself growing hard in his trousers - trying to keep himself at bay, feeling like he had intruded upon you, but he was entranced by your sinful sounds and couldn’t move. The moment he had heard your quiet moaning of his name, however, he had lost all control and found himself pulling his cock - leaking with precum - out of his trousers. He gripped his cock pumping it with his hand, managing to keep his grunting to himself - avoiding alerting anything potentially around them. He continued this until he felt the pleasure in himself building and with a final pump, hearing as you started to move about with quiet, fastened breaths he had cum onto the floor beneath him, keeping his breathing steady as he put himself back in his trousers. Deciding an appropriate amount of time before he went back down, he realised how much of an issue this was about to become. 

It had been a few hours now since Emmett had left to watch over the abandoned train station you were kept up in, and minute by minute it dawned on him just how much of an asshole he was. You had kissed him back - you clearly felt something for him, and he had just stood and left you without looking back once. He was hardly acting like an adult right now, and he needed to check up on you - he cared for you, a lot. 

Treading cautiously back to you, he found your body curled up in the bed you now shared - you were lying on his side with the blanket pulled right up to your chin. As he walked forward, he saw the dried tears you had quietly cried as he had left you temporarily, and his heart broke. How could he hurt you like this? You didn’t deserve to feel such pain, and he was damned if he was about to let you go any longer not hearing from him.

Feeling as the bed dipped and someone started gently stroking your hair, you stirred from the nap you were having and opened your eyes, meeting Emmett’s gaze. He looked guilty, and a part of you was glad, but it also made you feel bad seeing him like this. 

“Can we talk?” his tone was weary, he wasn’t sure how you were feeling and didn’t want to further cross any boundaries. 

Sitting up, you gave a quiet reply, sleep still tangled with your mind, “Of course.”

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve being treated like that and - ...and I don’t regret kissing you one bit,” he stared directly into your eyes, a sudden heat spread throughout your body at the small confession, “but I understand if you don’t want this to happen again - you’re a lot younger, and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t back out if you regret this, I shouldn’t have been so selfish in my desires, I’m sorry.” A sudden feeling of vulnerability overcame Emmett, and he couldn’t bring himself to hold eye contact with you anymore - instead looking at the wall. 

Staring at his form, you decided to ask, “And if I don’t want this to continue, will I have to leave?”, you weren’t serious, but you wanted to know.

Snapping his head back to you, his eyes were wide - did you believe he’d let you just go back out alone? “No of course not y/n. You’re staying here with me, and that’s final. I’m not letting you out of my sight ever, as long as I can see you, I know you’re as safe as you can be, and I couldn’t give that up.”

You raised your hand, placing it on his cheek, feeling as he leaned into your touch, “Well it’s okay because I don’t think I’d ever want to leave you, Emmett.” Emmett’s eyes flittered back up to your own as you continued, “I care about you a lot Emmett, this is the first time since...since Dad that I’ve felt genuinely safe, and I couldn’t think of anything more painful than not continuing whatever this is with you.”

He couldn’t take it anymore, and any worries that were once present had now dissipated into thin air - it was just the both of you now. His lips were back on yours again, and this time they were more fervent than before. Letting out a quiet moan of shock, you reciprocated quickly, moving your own lips to join in a passionate kiss. Callous hands pawed at the sides of your waist - he couldn’t hide his desperation as he gently bit down on your lip, causing you to let out a soft gasp, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth - both fighting for dominance, until you inevitably lost and you felt his grip tighten. Pulling back for air, the both of you lay your foreheads against each other. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Emmett wanted you - it was clear as his cock had started to harden in his trousers. 

Without another word, you pulled him back into a kiss, slowly rubbing at his cock through his trousers - you had been dreaming of this for weeks, desperate to be filled by him. Feeling a growing wetness pool in your pants, you pulled your shirt over your head, breaking the kiss and feeling Emmett’s eyes hungrily staring at your exposed body. Pushing you back onto the bed, Emmet laid above your body. Bending close to your ear he whispered, “Be a good girl and stay quiet for me, yeah? Can you do that for me darlin’?” Your pussy clenched at his words, you didn’t think his voice could have that much of an effect on you, but you were glad to have been proven wrong. Moving back to your lips, he moved to your neck, trailing small love bites down to your chest, making you let out quiet breaths - being careful to not make too much sound. Bringing one of his hands to your breast, he massaged it gently as his mouth came down to suck on your unattended nipple. Biting down on your lip, you started to feel yourself grow desperate to feel him inside of you - you couldn't handle any more foreplay, you needed him.

“mmm please” you quietly moaned out, cautious not to break your one rule.

“What was that darlin'? Use your words like a good girl.” his hand had dipped beneath the waistband of your trousers and into your pants as he lazily circled your clit, drawing out the smallest of whines from you. His cock was straining painfully against his jeans, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could deal with it. 

“Please I need you in me, I can’t wait anymore, please” He couldn’t deny your pleas - you sounded so desperate and pretty.

Pulling your trousers off in a singular swift motion, he placed gentle kisses on the insides of your thighs, teasing you before he pulled your underwear off and flung them onto the floor. Sitting back up, Emmett admired your naked body beneath him as he sat fully clothed still - you were beautiful, how had he got so lucky to have you? Before you could whine anymore, Emmett ripped his own clothes off, pressing his lips to yours to silence you.

Gently lining his cock up with your pussy, he gently pushed his way in - noticing the way your face contorted in pain.

“I’m sorry darlin’, you tell me to stop if it’s too much. You’re such a good girl taking me so far though, such a good slut for me.” his gentle degradation and care for your wellbeing had your pussy clenching around him already as you were suppressing desperate moans. 

“no it’s okay, keep going, feels good, just hurts a little - I can take it” You looked up and him doe-eyed and it took everything in him not to slam into your tight pussy and have you panting for air.

Pushing himself further, he whispered gentle praises into your ear until he was buried inside of you. Stilling himself, he checked if you were okay, and the moment you reassured him, he was pulling back out, before he’d push back into you with military-grade-like precision. Trying to suppress his own grunts, he placed a hand over your mouth to suppress the lewd sounds that came from your mouth. 

“You’re being such a good girl for me, taking me so well, fuck.” continuing to pump into you, Emmett could feel the tension in his abdomen starting to tighten as the lewd squelching of your pussy echoed in the small room.

“I don’t know how much longer I can go darlin’ you feel too good”

“s’okay, can I touch myself please, I need it” Your desperation and asking for permission almost pushed him over the edge. With a nod of his head, Emmett admired as you placed one hand between the both of you and started circling your clit as he continued to penetrate your pussy. Unable to control the subtle whimpers, you could feel your orgasm building in your stomach - circling your clit faster as Emmett placed his lips back onto yours.

With a final pump, your orgasm overwhelmed your body and your thighs shook against Emmett as he let you ride your orgasm out on him - you felt cock-drunk cumming over his cock as he praised you through your orgasm. As your walls continued to spasm, Emmett pulled himself out of you, hearing your quiet whimper of displeasure at the loss of fullness, and he continued to pump himself until he came on your stomach with a quiet grunt that had your pussy clenching around nothing. 

Getting ready to clean yourself up, Emmett pushed your body back down and without saying a word went to get a cloth that he soaked in water and came back to clean you from his cum.

Smiling up at him, you stared as he came back to lay next to you, still not sharing any words, just being pulled into his chest, and basking in each other’s comfort, not needing to talk just yet.

Letting out a breath, Emmett tilted his face to look into your eyes, “I hope that was good enough to make up for earlier”. 

“Yeah, it was. Better than good, thank you.” Nuzzling into his chest, you could feel your eyes growing heavy, feeling safe in Emmett’s arms. 

“Go to sleep pretty girl, you deserve it.” Giving your forehead a peck, Emmett pulled the both of you down further into the bed, watching as you closed your eyes until your breathing evened out. Smiling at your relaxed, sleeping state, he whispered an “I love you” into your hair - his confession falling on deaf ears, feeling himself relaxing enough to fall asleep intertwined with your sleeping figure.

[vodika-vibes]

Hii, I wanna get in on the hurt/ comfort train while it’s here. Could you do one with your choice of “It wasn’t your fault/I’ve got you don’t cry/what did they do to you?” Thinking about how berserk most clones would go if some drunk/dick tried to spike your drink or grab you by the hair or slapped your ass or physically grabbed you and pulled you against them to kiss you or raised a hand to their girl in any way. Only if you’re comfortable with any of that!! But said drunk/dick is cooked because when one of the bros gets into a fight with a natborn they all gotta join in to make them regret ever being born, if their an alpha/spec ops/arc it won’t matter they were ever born because their about to die. Did I mention I’m paranoid yet always putting my foot in my mouth and getting myself into shit?

Time Stands Still

Summary: Colt doesn’t often get the chance to leave Kamino, so when he visits you, you like to make the most of it. But Colt is there to take care of you when a night out goes wrong.

Pairing: ARC Captain Colt x F!Reader

Word Count: 845

Warnings: Reader was drugged at a club

A/N: So, this could probably be better. But I'm tired and anxious, and this is all I have in me right now. Sorry, I hope you don't hate it. And if you do, please don't tell me because I'll probably cry.

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You wake up nauseous.

Horrifically nauseous. Bed enough that you immediately roll off your bed and stumble into the bathroom to empty your stomach.

It doesn’t do much to help your nausea, though. And in fact, now that you’re moving you notice how bad you feel.

It almost feels like a migraine. The nausea, the vomiting, the way that the lights hurt—only there’s no pain to go with it. Maybe you’re sick?

“Cyare?” Colt’s voice comes from the bedroom, there’s something that almost sounds like alarm in his voice, which is weird. Why would he be alarmed?

Ugh, and why is it so hard for you to think?

“Cyare?” Colt appears in the doorway to the bathroom, and the worry clears from his face, “Cyar’ika, why are you on the floor?” His dark eyes flicker around the room, and his gaze softens, “Did you get sick?”

You slowly nod, “Feel awful,” You admit, “Like a migraine without the pain.”

He kneels in front of you and gently pushes some hair off your face, and you tilt your head back to look up at his face. There’s a strange expression twisting his face. Like grief…and guilt.

His hand moves, and you notice that his knuckles are split. You gently catch his wrist and turn his hand so you can examine his hand, “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing, love. Just some split knuckles.”

“Let me find the first aid kit—” You shift to stand, but the nausea has you crumpling in on yourself again.

“Don’t worry about me, love. I’m fine.” His lips twist, and then, slowly, he brushes his fingers against your cheek, “Love, my beautiful, perfect cyare. What do you remember about last night?”

“Last night?”

You cast your memory back, to try and remember the night before. But it’s all blank. Well, sort of.

You remember going to the bar with Colt and meeting up with some friends, and some of his brothers. And that’s it.

You don’t remember.

Why don’t you remember?

What happened to you?

You don’t realize that you’re starting to hyperventilate until you feel Colt’s hands, warm and strong and steady, on your shoulders. “Cyare, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

You cast wide, panicked eyes up at your boyfriend, “What happened? Why can’t I remember?”

His hands slowly move to cup your cheeks, to smooth across the top of your head, and then drag down your spine. You feel the tension, and panic, draining from your body the longer he just touches you.

Colt’s dark eyes remain on your face, steady and unwavering, “You were drugged, love.”

“What?” The word leaves you with all of the breath in your lungs. But, you had been surrounded by friends, by people you trust, people who you know would look after you, who who have looked out for you before.

“Your friend, the twi’lek? The red one? He slipped drugs in your drink, and then tried to get you to leave with him.” Colt’s voice is as gentle as his touch, and yet his words make you want to cry.

Antian is your friend. You’ve known him since you were in diapers.

“I…I don’t…did he—?” You can’t finish your question, the words like lead on your tongue.

“He didn’t touch you.” Colt’s voice is so firm, that your gaze, which had been locked on his chest, snaps up to meet his. “As soon as I realized what happened, I got you away from him.”

You remember his split and bruised knuckles, and slowly you reach up to touch his jaw, “Is he…alive?”

Colt’s steady gaze doesn’t waver, “Does it matter?”

The answer is written plain as day on his face, and your lower lip wobbles, “I’m so sorry.” You whisper.

“No. It wasn’t your fault.” Colt’s steely gaze softens when he sees your distress, “He made a choice and he suffered the consequences.” His fingers lightly.

“But, if I hadn’t trusted him—”

“He was your friend. You’ve known him for years,” gently, Colt helps you off the floor, “Of course you trusted him. It’s not a bad thing, to trust the people around you.” He guides you back into the bedroom and helps you lay back in bed.

“Why do I feel so bad?”

“He gave you an overdose,” Colt explains quietly, as he kneels next to you, “I’m not going to lie, love. Today’s going to suck. But I’m going to take care of you. One my my brothers is on his way over with some medicine to make today a bit easier though.”

“...okay.” You take his hand and press it against your cheek, rubbing against it, “And you’re not mad at me?”

“Never.” Colt leans in and kisses your forehead, “Get some rest love, I’ll be in the next room. Try to drink some water?”

“I can do that.”

“Good girl,” He kisses your forehead one more time, “I love you.”

And, finally, the tiniest smile lifts the corners of your lips, “Love you too. Thank you. For saving me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for protecting you. It’s my job.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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@mira-loves-star-wars

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@continous-mistakes

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@rebell-ious

[animeomegas]

HA I must disagree with everyone saying naruto and sasuke are the worst patients. Sasuke grumbles and growls sure, and Naruto is whiny about feeling bad, but I think Shikamaru would be the worst.

Being sick is not the same as resting. The recurrent aches and pains either waking him up or preventing him from falling asleep make him cranky. Fever dreams, even when you can't remember them, make sleep unrestful, he hates waking up overheated or when his feet and hands are chilly or worse yet having all three happen at once.

He's not a picky eater to begin with, but growing up with Chouji and his own mother's cooking, he knows what good food is and suddenly everything tastes wrong? Blasphemous, horrific, having to eat plain food that tastes like nothing? It takes a lot of coaxing and hand feeding to get him to eat something and there's a 50/50 chance he's glaring at you the whole time.

On top of that, it's one thing to scive off work, but suddenly falling ill and ruining his whole productivity plan (with the purpose of bringing the bare minimum at home work smarter not harder lol) stresses him out and Nara HATE being stressed. He dreads having to catch up on things (read working 9 hour days for a week, same). If he can feel himself getting sick, he actually tries to get as much as he can done before he actually has to stay home, which means a really cranky lead up and a horrible first day or two of illness.

Of course, this is not to say that Sasuke in particular is a peach. No, he's also glaring and cranky, but it's not as bad somehow. He will grudgingly allow himself to be taken care of and embrace the excuse for being babied with only nominal protest. He doesn't mind asking for what he wants (with some coaxing) while he's sick which takes some stress off of caring for him. He's also more used to rough living and doing what has to be done to get well again, so somehow I just don't think he'd be as offended as Shikamaru is.

They both hate being sick, but I think Shikamaru is taking it more personally.

Ooooh, an alternate opinion! Shikamaru... interesting.

You are so right that he's cranky though. Shikamaru is always in a FOUL mood when he's sick. He probably goes into work, scowling at everyone. He'd be stomping around if it didn't hurt his head.

And yes, he would for sure just stop eating, that's such a him thing to do. (Although part of me thinks it would be so cute to spoon feed a scowling Shikamaru haha.)

And the workload thing... that's kind of sad, but I think you're right. Shikamaru is so important and does so much work, so he has to catch up once he's better, and having that hanging over him just makes him feel worse. This wouldn't happen to Sasuke because he doesn't give a fuck lol.

While I think Sasuke would be a massive bitch when sick, this was certainly well argued. Shikamaru is certainly a contender for the competition haha.

Thanks for the ask ;) @ikemenomegas

[avvail-whumps]

‘the facility’ — the breakout 2/?

previous · masterlist

content warnings: prison whump, whumpee turned whumper, sadistic whumper, mass prison breakout, captivity, imprisonment, torture, violence, beatings

Noah’s head felt as though it had been rammed through a wall when he finally came to. It took him a long, aching few seconds to realise that was pretty much what had happened - the elevator doors.

His hazy vision could barely make out where he was, if he was the right way up or not, but he soon began to wriggle his limbs and realised he was lay on his side, head pressed uncomfortably into the cold floor.

He bit back a small moan of pain - his arms were twisted behind his back, knotted together with an uncomfortable, scratchy rope. The fear was stabbing numbly at his chest, the situation dawning on him.

The breakout. Cash – shit, Cash.

Noah’s breath hitched, feeling automatic tears start to relentlessly sting his eyes. He could recognise one of these rooms, one of torture. It wasn’t the one they had experimented on Cash in, being much larger and decorated with so many more horrifying tools.

The scientist felt dizzy looking at them, shifting. Aches spiralled through his muscles, the pins and needles kicking in once he finally became aware. As he did, something caught his eye.

There was someone else against the adjacent wall, an Apoid. The helmeted head was dipped down low, arms equally twisted behind his back, but Noah could just catch a small glimpse of a short link of chain. The visor on the helmet was cracked, and their chest was rising and falling slowly.

Noah’s heart sank. The Apoid was still alive, and better yet, he prayed it was who he thought it was.

“Fionn?” He croaked, his throat dry from the last moments he’d spent screaming. His heart was hammering in his chest. “Fionn, wake up. Fionn.”

“He’s not gonna hear you.”

Noah felt his body seize in a vice grip, the voice from behind him making all of his blood go cold. He didn’t even have time to crane around until someone was stepping over his body, and his wide eyes flickered up to meet Cash’s face.

He was smirking. But those eyes; he wasn’t amused at all.

“Hello, doc,” he spoke calmly, crouching down closer towards him. Noah winced, his chest rising and falling with his quickly labouring breaths. “Glad someone didn’t pump you with any lead. Been looking forward to this since the alarm went off.”

Noah shrank further into the floor.

He remembered what that prisoner had said, and it frightened him how Cash had been gunning just for him the whole time the chaos had erupted. To fulfil the promise he’d made. His throat ached in reminder of that moment.

“It’s not as fun when the boot’s on the other foot, huh?” Cash sneered, tilting his head as his unrelenting gaze didn’t falter for a moment. Noah forced himself to look away, tucking his wobbling bottom lip under.

“Cash, please, I—” His words dried up, squeezing his eyes shut. He was so terrified. “I didn’t take any pleasure in it. I didn’t—”

“—want to?” Cash interrupted. “You signed up for this place.”

“I had to,” he shakily whispered. “It’s my sister. There was no way I could afford her treatment if I didn’t—”

“Noah,” Cash groaned, the irritation evident on his face, now hardened from his fear induced babbling. Fingers twisted in his hair, pressing his temple into the concrete floor. Noah bit back a whine of pain. “I don’t want a justification. In fact, I don’t care. But I am gonna make you pay. There’s nothing you can say that will change that.”

His stomach twisted. He was shocked he hadn’t thrown up yet, with the stress of the breakout and all the horrfic things he’d seen, and now this horrific predicament. His white jacket was still stained with patches of blood, a cruel reminder that none of it had mattered in the end.

“Why not run?” The scientist whispered shakily. “This is your chance to escape this place. There’ll never be another opportunity.”

Cash raised a brow, looking disinterestedly at the muck on Noah’s jacket. “Doc, getting out of this place ain’t easy. They’ll have the army, thousands of Apoids, anything swarming the outside of this place. Those lucky enough to get out won’t last two minutes up there. But here?”

Cash grinned, the sight wolfish. The secretary figured he might sink those sharp teeth into his neck for good measure. “They’ll eventually get control of the place. They’ll round up the prisoners and take us alive once we cooperate. After all, they won’t gun us all down as long as we remain in the Facility.”

Cash’s fingers twisted harder into his hair, and Noah’s body went rigid, hissing through his teeth.

“I’ve been in this place longer than you, doc. I know how they work,” he whispered sharply, the puff of air on the shell of his ear making him shudder. “So, why not take this time to do something I’ve wanted to do since the moment I laid eyes on you?”

He roughly released him, and Noah’s throat bobbed as he swallowed uneasily. Cash was right - an escape would only end in death. Clearly, after the fiasco when he’d broken out of his cuffs, the Facility prioritised taking the prisoners alive unless it was absolutely necessary to kill them. They’d send in reinforcements, round them up, and get the place back under control.

It meant that Noah was going to have to wait for the reinforcements to show up. Who knew how long that could take? Depending on how far the breakout had stretched, which levels were unaffected and under control, he was in the dark.

In the dark, and trapped with his prisoner, who had every desire to make him wish for a merciful death.

Noah hadn’t even realised he’d started crying until Cash scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, biting back a small whimper.

“You’re a doll, doc,” he cooed, his eyes gleaming. “I’m going to take my time with you. Though, I was kind enough to provide you with some company, at least.”

Noah’s teary eyes darted over to Fionn.

He wondered how Cash even knew that was him, but he didn’t care.

Fionn wasn’t safe, neither of them were, but at least he knew he wasn’t dead. The last thing he had been so consumed about was if he’d cost the Apoid his job; now he wished that was all he had to worry about. Noah bit back the little sniffle, the dizzy headache throbbing uncomfortably through his skull, only intensified by the pounding of his heart. 

Level Nine was terrifying enough as it was; locked in a room with one of their prisoners, completely at their mercy? Noah didn’t think anything worse could have happened. Level Nine prisoner’s were some of the most ruthless war criminals, prisoners of war, agents and spies, too dangerous to be kept anywhere but a highly sophisticated underground prison. He had recieved Cash’s file, but it didn’t tell him anything about the things he’d done to get himself locked up in here. Only blood types, medication - things that he would have to know as his scientist. 

Noah didn’t want to think about all the horrific stuff Cash had done.

The fact that he probably knew how to kill Noah in more ways than he could ever imagine. 

The fact that he would know how to hurt him until he wanted death. 

Horror twisted his core - there was no point begging right now. For Cash, this was how it was supposed to be. The Facility would be swarming on the surface - the moment someone managed to get out, they wouldn’t be there two minutes before they were found and gunned down. 

And, for some reason, Noah got the impression that mindless slaughter and violence would become pretty boring for someone as calculated as Cash. The breakout was an exuse for anarchy and escape; for Noah’s prisoner, it was an opportunity for payback. 

“If you want to punish someone, punish the Higher Ups,” Noah choked out, cringing when Cash’s eyes remained staring languidly at Fionn’s unconscious form. “The people who run the place. They’re the ones that pass the orders. Please.” 

Cash tilted his head, cold eyes flickering up to the ceiling, as if in thought. “That’s the thing, doc. They’re smart enough to know that. It’s always why they’re smart enough not to stick around when they don’t have to.” 

His boots thumped across the ground, stopping in front of Noah’s damp face again. Over his prison clothes, Cash was wearing one of the Apoid’s jackets, unzipped. He’d probably taken it from someone he’d killed, since Fionn was in full uniform apart from his weapons. The prisoner had stripped them. 

“But we’ve both seen for ourselves that people like you are expendable,” he mocks cruelly, reminding Noah of those words Fionn had shouted with such conviction. Something stung at his chest. “That’s why.” 

He admired the crestfallen expression that fell upon Noah’s pitiful face for a few moments, before he pretended to glance at the non-existent watch on his wrist. He hummed, lip quirking into a malicious smirk. 

“Alright, enough chit chat, doc,” he murmured. “I was hoping your little Apoid would wake up, but we’re on a time crunch here. So, let’s get started.” 

Noah flinched violently when his hand fisted into his shirt, hoisting him onto his feet like he weighed nothing. The prisoner even made a quiet comment about how little he would weigh, even soaking wet, but Noah couldn’t hear anything over the relentless pounding in his skull, and the blood rushing through his head. 

The prisoner guided him, or more like dragged him, close to the wall, where he took in the horrible sight of shackles attached to a chain in the ceiling. His knees were refusing to even hold his own weight, a colourless complexion fixed itself to his face. 

“Coveniently, these rooms were made for torture,” Cash smoothly spoke, taking a pocket knife to Noah’s restrained wrists and cutting through them easily. Before he could even consider attempting to wrench away from him, the prisoner was slapping the cold metal cuffs around them, stretching his arms uncomfortably above his head. There was a small pinch in his shoulder blade from the position, and he had to bite back a pained whimper. 

“The most challenging thing was deciding what to do with you first, though. Especially with all of these options,” he hummed absentmindly, running his fingers along the wall, lined with various tools that Noah didn’t dare crane his head around to see. He heard the clank of metal, and Cash circled back round in front of him to see he was cradling a lead pipe. “I don’t want to put you out of commission too early. Look at you - you’re so frail, doc.”

Noah’s heart was racing. With each passing second of being in this position, he was imagining all of the places that the lead pipe would crack against, and he could barely breathe from the horrifying concept. Was this how it felt for them? Waiting for the inevitable torture?

“Cash,” he breathed out shakily, biting back a sob. “Cash, please.” 

“Not gonna work on me,” the prisoner sighed, unbothered. “I don’t have a soft spot for those that grovell. Sorry.” 

Noah had barely even been able to brace for the first swing. Cash had moved so fast after standing so casually, that he only registered the movement after the crack of impact landed on his side, and his throat closed up in agony. His whole body seized up, a wretched, choked sound escaping his lips. 

The chains rattled from the very impact, his eyes wide and watery. Cash’s eyes gleamed with something predatory, like he could sense he was going to enjoy this. The numbness came next, followed by the tidal wave of crippling agony. Noah wanted to double over, try to ease the blinding pain, but it was impossible with the chains. 

“That was just a love tap,” Cash purred, and there was this sick delight in his voice, like the hit had released something within him that had been festering for years upon years. “Don’t be dramatic, doc.” 

Noah can’t even process the comparison of that only being a love tap before the pipe sinks into his stomach with vigor, and a sickening cough gets all tangled up in the scientist’s throat. The sheer force is enough to rip the air from his lungs, rendering him gasping and squirming in the chains as he tries to process the throbbing pain spreading through his body. 

The pipe goes for his side again. Then his ribs - Noah see’s stars on that swing, and he can barely even feel the instinctive panic that something was cracked before another was slamming into back, avoiding his spine. 

“Stop,” Noah tries to choke out, but he’s been rendered breathless and he’s in so much pain and he just wants to go home. Cash taps the edge of the pipe under his chin, gently tilting his head up to meet his unfocused, tear filled eyes. He can’t help but wrack with groaning sobs, each jolt making his body flare up in intense agony. Breathing aches. 

His face is contorted in pain, and Cash admires it languidly. 

“But, doc,” he drawls. “Why stop when we’ve only just begun?”

tag list – @suspicious-whumping-egg @sunshiline-writes @rabidrabidme @whumpatize-me-captain @thegirlwholived1213 @reverie1234 @unforgivenn @morning-star-whump @seaweed-is-cool @d-cs @whump-me-all-night-long @whump-me @gala1981 @pirefyrelight @whumble-beeee @miss-unicorn0907 @avidrambling @anoontjecanush @2in1whump @ha-ha-one @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @whatwhump @sowhumpful @whump321 @alexmundaythrufriday

[whitegoldtower]

Panic attack tips from someone who has them pretty much every day, and is currently having one:

- wash your face with cold water. Wash your hands and your feet. Put something cold on the back of your neck.

- Take a shit. No, seriously. Take a shit and tell yourself that you’re shitting out the panic. It’s disgusting but if/when you do take a shit, it’s probably going to be loose, and isn’t gonna look like a normal shit. This is fine, it’s just because your body is telling you that you’re in danger, so you’ve gotta evacuate your guts so you can run quicker.

- Sip ice cold water.

- if you get chills, grab a hot water bottle and cuddle it. Grab a person and cuddle them. If you have a pet, pet them. If you have other people in your house, there’s no shame in needing their company. There’s also no shame in waking them up if you have them at 3AM (as I usually do).

- Inhale for six, exhale for six, hold for three or four.

- if you feel sick, sip water and/or take a stomach settler like omeprazole.

- Relax your shoulders, unclench your jaw.

- gently tap your face with your fingertips. Gently scrape your chest outwards. Rub your stomach clockwise. Rub your feet against the bedsheets.

- Pick a colour and count every object you can see in that colour.

- Brush your teeth / use mouthwash. Strong mint taste usually helps bring me out of an attack.

- Sometimes it’s best to just lay down and shake for a bit. Just let it happen, as scary as it seems. If you feel really restless, just shake your fucking leg. Shake it like a polaroid picture.

- Acknowledge that it’s just a panic attack. When you feel one coming on, don’t start googling your symptoms. You know it’s just a panic attack. You know your brain is being goofy. When I feel my pulse about to spike, I press my fingers to my pulse and go “it’s nothing to worry about. Watch now; it’s going to go up.” And when it does go up, “See? There it is. And now my chest is going to start hurting.”

- Make it funny. Your body is shitting itself and being fucking goofy as hell. I picture cartoon skedaddle sounds when my pulse goes up and explosive fart sounds when my brain tries to convince me I’m dying. I look off to an imaginary camera like I’m having a fleabag moment.

- Remember that a panic attack won’t kill you. It’s scary as fuck and feels horrific, but it won’t hurt you. You’re okay.

- Keep yourself occupied. Do something that requires you to think, so that your brain doesn’t get the chance to make you worry about your symptoms.

- The pain in your chest isn’t a fucking heart attack. You’re not dying, you’re just panicking. That sense of impending doom? Yeah, that’s part of the panic attack. You’re fine, you’re safe.

- It’s okay to go to sleep. Nothing bad is going to happen to you. If you feel really scared, have someone sleep next to you. If you’re alone and it’s unbearable, go to the hospital, or just somewhere with other humans that you feel comfortable taking a nap: humans generally tend to rush to help each other, so if anything bad does happen (which it won’t), someone will help you.

- if you’re struggling to relax, hit your brain with ye olde factory reset and watch a show you used to watch as a child. It is a fairly common occurrence to see me (a fully grown man) shaking like a shitting dog, rubbing his feet together, cuddling a pillow and watching that little blue twat Iggle Piggle dancing around on screen with ya boy Makka Pakka.

[hiraeth-witch-11]

Billy Russo's "Pet" Part 2

Warnings: Billy Russo, nonsexual forced nudity

Word Count: 1000ish

Your head throbs as you wake. Resting on something warm and soft, the chill has been chased away from your limbs. Nuzzling into the warmth, you inhale the smell of the forest combined with something spicy and a surprising sweetness. 

“I knew you’d like me if you gave me half a chance,” a voice says teasingly, their laughter sending vibrations through their chest and against your face.

You try to jerk away, remembering where you are. Strong arms wrap around you like steel bands.

“Nuh uh, none of that now. I need to get you cleaned up before we have our little chat about how things are gonna work around here. Do you understand?”

You refuse to look at his face as you spit angrily, “You’re insane. Let me go!”

Billy sighs in disappointment, hand reaching up to grip your jaw roughly as he forces you to look at him.

“I don’t wanna hurt you anymore than I have to.” A pause then a sly smile. “Or anymore than you beg me to. Are you gonna listen or am I gonna have to compel you again?”

You flinch at the idea. Everytime he compels you, it feels like your mind and body are not your own. You try to fight it, but it just makes it worse. It’s a horrific feeling, one you would do just about anything to avoid.

“I’ll listen,” you answer quietly. You’re too tired to try and escape again right now. You need to rest and figure out this man’s patterns, his weaknesses. Picking your battles to get on his good side and keep yourself safe. Then you can bolt the second you get another chance. Preferably with shoes this time.

“Good girl, pet.” 

The words elicit a response from you that is not at all controlled by your brain. Of course the creepy monster man had to be sexy. You try to tamp down on your lust and maintain your anger. “I have a name.”

“I’m well aware.” Billy lifts you and carries you into a magnificent bathroom. His entire home was more life a palace than a house. Somehow, he manages to flick on the light while keeping you in his arms. The sudden brightness makes you grimace, eyes closing as the light sends spearing pain throughout your skull. “Sorry, pet. I’ll keep it off.”

You hear the light switch click and tentatively open your eyes. Billy sets you on the edge of the tub, starts the hot water running, and strides over to the cabinet, pulling out a first aid kit.

“I think you have a concussion. We’ll get you all healed up as soon as you’re clean.”

You aren’t sure what he means and you don’t ask, opting to watch him silently instead. It’s hard to read his expression in the dark, not much light has entered the room from the doorway and his face is in the shadows. He kneels in front of you with the kit and grabs one of your feet. You flinch at the contact and he gives you a stern look.

“Sit still,” he orders. Billy peels off the torn sock, stained with dirt and blood, tossing it effortlessly into the trash without looking. Using a pair of tweezers, he efficiently removes the various debris from your cuts before moving to the next foot. Once your feet are taken care of, he examines your palms and temple. Thankfully, there isn’t much to dig out of the egg sized bump on your scalp, just a splinter. The tub is full at this point, tendrils of steam rising off it, visible even in the dim light.

“Strip and get in,” he says as he washes his hands and puts away the kit.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Your clothes are filthy and you are covered in mud.”

“Turn around,” you insist.

“No.” He leans back against the counter, arms folded. You hesitate. “Now or I’ll just compel you. The choice is yours.”

With shaky hands, you begin to remove your clothing. Once he sees that you are complying, he surprises you by looking away and busying himself with pulling several fluffy white towels out of the cabinet and setting them by the tub.

You step into the tub on limbs rubbery with exhaustion and hold back a groan at how good the heat feels on your sore muscles. The tub is so large that even with several inches between the water level and the rim, you are already chest deep in water. Bringing your knees up to your chest, you wrap your arms around your legs in an attempt to preserve your modesty.

Billy startles you once again by seemingly appearing out of thin air right next to the tub. Maybe your observational skills have declined because of the sheer stress of being kidnapped and chased. In his hand is a white washcloth. You tense as he makes slow, obvious motions. Dipping the cloth into the water and carefully pressing it against the skin of your shoulder. 

He’s surprisingly almost clinical about it, not necessarily because it seems unfeeling, but more because it’s thorough and not sexual in the slightest. Billy wipes the dirt from your shoulders, back, arms, calves and feet, leaving the rest of your body to you. He takes special care as he grabs a fresh washcloth and cleans your face. You can feel the sensation of drying blood on your scalp and your fingers itch to reach up and start scratching your scalp until the blood and mud are gone. It’s an irrational urge, one you are all too familiar with, and you breathe a sigh of relief when Billy instructs you to tilt your head back.

With one hand against your forehead to protect your eyes, he pours warm water over your hair until it’s thoroughly wetted. Then he douses it in shampoo and rubs his fingers into your scalp. You can’t remember the last time someone washed your hair for you. You'd almost forgotten how good it felt.

Billy seems pleased with your reaction as you allow yourself to relax into his touch. He rinses the soap from your hair and conditions it, before repeating the process. You finally feel clean. Something that shouldn’t be so important to you in this situation, but is.

“Up,” Billy instructs, holding out a large towel. You cautiously allow him to wrap you in it and towel off your hair with a second, smaller towel.

“Good pet, you behaved so well for me. Now we can talk.” Billy grins widely, elongated canines fully on display. The look of a predator.

*******

If you want to be put on, or taken off my taglists, feel free to tell me!

Series list: intothesoul, sweetserendipity65

Billy Russo Taglist: @snowkestrel, happydeanpotter, jvanilly

Everything Taglist: @kayhi808,

[m1d-45]

hiyaaa new anon here, i'm normally a silent reader but my brain go brrr and i need an outlet

sagau impostor au except any defining features of creator!reader's divinity are not obvious in the beginning (like bleeding red when injured).

in the face of death, they think "finally, it's all over," except the minute their heart stops, they wake up again on the same shores beneath starsnatch cliff.

using this second chance, they do their best to avoid any and all forms of civilization, yet somehow they find themselves with a sword in their face once more.

just like before, they die, only to wake up on the beach again.

and thus a horrific cycle begins. with every breath given anew, a new blade comes to snuff it.

except...with each iteration of the death loop they're stuck in, signs of their divinity slowly become more apparent.

no one notices the tints of blue that gradually begin to color the impostor's blood until they've already been killed so many dozens of times.

ohhhh this is such a good thing in sagau, i’ve only read like two fics with this but it’s such wasted potential tbh

like maybe your blood only shifts once you start to absorb elements from teyvat, only once you’re back where you’re supposed to be, surrounded by your creations. it only changes once you start to gain some of your diving energy back, which is far easier when you’re walking along forest paths with elemental beings that adore you, when an unseen weight is lifted off your shoulders, like you’re finally breathing fresh air. even the cleanest parks on earth can’t compare to this feeling of ease, of comfort, of-

of betrayal?

when you die, you don’t notice the shimmer to your blood, only focusing on finding the most secluded area of teyvat to hide in. maybe sumeru’s forests? those seem pretty dense.

you try to cut through liyue, but all you get is a spear through the throat.

your ‘deaths’ don’t really hurt physically, surprisingly (why would they? teyvat would never dream of causing you pain, and you were never meant to be harmed by your creations) but they do hurt mentally. it’s hard to live when your beloved characters want you to die, when you have to face the weapons you wished for and ascended, when the fruits of your labor are bitter and poisoned.

teyvat is panicking, it’s people going berserk at the intensifying signs of divinity, growing more and more desperate to clean the earth for their god, not knowing that every imposter killed is another wall between them and your trust.

you’ve died. you’ve died. you’ve died. ‘friends’ are a glimpse you see in a pool of your own blood before you fade, the sparkle in your veins blinding to the ones that carry your ‘corpse’ away so you can heal. bubbles of hillichurl water wash it away, leaving you undamaged and clean again, fully knowing that within a week, someone will have to do it again.

they’re getting more vigilant hunting you, you know. just hope one of them spots the gold on their blade before it meets you again.

(also. you said hi new anon but didn’t sign. would you like to-?)

[alienguts]

Nightlight (Ash Williams x f!Reader)

Summary: Ash still has nightmares of the cabin.

Warnings: (brief) horror and violence, nightmares, hurt/comfort

Request?: No

A/N: I miss Ash and wanted to write something but I haven't had a lot of ideas for him lately.

He’d had the same dream so many times that he’d lost track. It was always the same: he was in that cabin with Scotty, Cheryl, Shelly, and Linda. They were all having a blast until that damn book was read and all hell broke loose. He’d dreamed about it so many times that the novelty had worn off, it was barely a nightmare anymore and just a regular dream. But this time it was different.

The four Deadites had started to advance on him, their faces twisted and horrific as they screamed and cackled at him. He’d managed to fight them off for most of the night but something kept distracting him. A fifth figure lurked in the corner, shrouded by the darkness and waiting for its turn to get him. His eyes strained to see what it was and he stumbled over a chair once he realised what it was. Or rather who it was.

His former friends held him to the floor as Y/N stalked towards her. Her face was warped into a wicked grin and blood dripped from her fingers. Growling laughter escaped her throat as she advanced on him, the sound turning his blood into ice in his veins.

“Y/N?” Ash said, his voice shaking. “What are you doing here? What did they do to you?”

“Don’t you wanna play, Ashy?” the thing pretending to be Y/N teased in a singsong. “We just want to have some fun with you.”

Ash tried to push the other monsters off him but they held onto his limbs tighter and pulled him back down to the floor. Y/N knelt between his spread legs and took hold of his right hand. Her touch was icy, the blood on her hands slicking his skin and making him gag. She brought it up to her cold lips and nuzzled his wrist before running her sharp teeth along it.

“You won’t need this, will you?” Y/N crooned.

Ash could feel his pulse pounding in his chest as his breath came out in shallow puffs. This wasn’t how the dream was supposed to go.

“No, you don’t need it. You won’t miss it either.”

Ash tried to pull his hand back but she yanked it further away from him and sank her teeth into his wrist.

White-hot pain flashed through his body and he screwed his eyes shut as he screamed and his body arched off the floor. His back hit the floor again and his eyes shot open.

Ash found himself staring at the ceiling of Y/N’s bedroom, his skin slick with cold sweat and sticking to the blanket covering his legs. He flexed his fingers as he gathered himself again and sat up on the side of the bed. He glanced down at his right arm and found it the way he’d seen it for so long. Still gone, he thought. He shouldn’t have been relieved to still be missing his hand but it meant that the dream was over for now.

He stood up and tiptoed around the bed to Y/N’s side where she slept soundly. Ash’s fingers shook as he reached out to stroke her face and he breathed out slowly when he found that she was still normal. Just a dream, his mind repeated. It was just a dream.

Ash padded out of the bedroom and made his way to the bathroom, trying to be as quiet as possible. He flicked the light on and turned the sink faucet, the sound of running water filling the deafening silence. The water was icy when he splashed his face, giving him the wake-up shock he needed. He dried his face without looking at himself in the mirror. He knew he looked a mess and didn’t need to see.

There was little chance of him getting back to sleep so he made his way into the living room. Ash turned the standing lamp on and sat down on the couch, his head hanging as he took deep measured breaths. His mind whirled round and round as he thought about the nightmare. 

Why was she there? She’d never been in that nightmare before, so why now?

“Ash?” Y/N asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked up and saw her standing next to the couch. “What’s wrong? Why are you up?”

“Nothing, I just couldn’t sleep,” Ash said, trying to brush it aside. “You should go back to bed.”

“Are you sure? It didn’t look like you just couldn’t sleep,” she said as she sat next to him. “You were making a lot of noise.”

“It was just a nightmare, don’t worry. I have the same one all the time.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” Y/N said and rested her hand on Ash’s knee. “You were moving a lot and I kept hearing you say my name.”

Time to rip the bandage off, Ash thought. There was no way to weasel himself out of talking about it.

“It was that same nightmare about the cabin,” he started. “But it was different this time.”

“Different how?” Y/N asked, stroking his knee softly.

“You were there.” Ash noticed how she stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. “You were there and you were one of them.”

“Oh, honey,” Y/N said and wrapped her arms around him. “It was just a dream, it’s never going to happen in real life.

“But what if it could?” Ash asked, his voice quiet as he let Y/N hold him and stroke his hair. “There’s always a chance.”

“I won’t let that happen,” she said firmly. “And I wouldn’t let them get you either.”

“I won’t let them get you,” Ash said as he buried his face into Y/N’s shoulder.

They stayed quiet for a while, Y/N letting Ash put his weight onto her as she stroked his back, played with his hair, and listened to his breathing. She thought that he’d drifted off to sleep again but he lifted himself off of her and tenderly kissed her forehead.

“Thanks, baby,” Ash said before hugging Y/N again.

“You don’t need to thank me,” Y/N said and returned his hug. “You always help me feel better when I have nightmares.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t thank you when you return the favour,” he said before yawning.

“Think you could come back to bed now?” Ash nodded. “C’mon then, I’ll keep the monsters away from you.”

“Not before I keep them away from you,” he said as he let her guide him back to bed.

[savvythepirate]

Never again

Pairing: Hector Barbossa x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @personlovinganime

The Request:

Hi! Can I ask for a hint 34, 35 or 36 with Barbossa please?

***

Laying in Barbossa’s arms, you never felt safer then you do now, in the arms of your lover.

It’s been a rough few days for the both of you and it all started when a deadly battle broke out, it was a battle you got caught up in when you weren’t meant to be in and yes you’ve made it back alive but surely not unscathed, you had been injured severely while defending Barbossa.

The truth was that Jack Sparrow was the first to have seen what took place and what exactly happened to you. Right as you were making your way back to the safety of the Pearl, you caught on sight of a rogue pirate going after Barbossa just a few feet away from behind him, and Barbossa was fighting off another pirate which prevented him from even knowing what to prepare for what was to happen next. Just as the pirate was having a go at it, you were quick to step in between them to make sure he didn’t kill Barbossa and got severely injured in the process. But to you, it was worth it if it meant that no harm was going to come across Barbossa, or at least just a bit of it. Jumping in between them was when the horrific injury occurred, it was an overwhelmingly amount of pain that made you feel like your body was on fire and made it feel that chances of survival would be almost non existent if anything.

As a sheer amount of pain courses through you, that’s the last thing you can really remember, other then hearing Jack calling out for you, followed by Barbossa. They’re voices seemed far away, so distant when really, they were right there by you. It wasn’t just your hearing you felt losing, but your vision has gone blurry and the last thing you saw before going completely unconscious was Jack and Barbossa above you, examining your injured self before picking you up to get you back to the ship. Everyone was hoping for the best outcome of this, of course after they knew how serious the whole ordeal was for you.

The outcome of it was just as everyone had hoped, that you were fortunate enough to survive and make a full on recovery. Thanks to Jack and Barbossa, the rest of the crew who cared about you, you had managed to recover quicker then expected. It wasn’t until a couple days later you woke up, the first thing you remembered was flashing lights and hearing two different voices in the room you were in. Once your vision had become more clear, you recognized that you were in Jack Sparrow’s sleeping quarters and the voices you were hearing were Jack and Barbossa.

You could hear them talking, and that’s when the gut feeling came to you that something wasn’t right as it should be. When your hearing came back around, you pretended to still be unconscious to listen for more details on what the conversation was about. From what you could understand, they were trying to plot up a plan to kill that pirate who nearly killed you, wanting to get vengeance and justice for not just you, but for the both of them as well. Everything you hear is a shock and quite overwhelming, but you forced yourself to listen when your mind was telling you to wake up right then.

“I want to shoot something!” Jack says.

“We should have shot him when we had the chance. I can’t believe we let him slip through our fingers like that. F*cker should be shot, shot dead head on.”

For as long as you’ve known Barbossa’s, you’ve never heard him talk that way about anyone before, and it frightened you a little to hear him talk like that for the first time.

Jack was upset, Barbossa was upset, but just by a little more then Jack Sparrow. He was your partner after all and the most right of anyone to feel like that when something like this happens to you both. While you had continued to listen, you eventually fall asleep without meaning to, waking up again later that same night.

Only this time, you didn’t hear voices, what you hear this time is someone snoring from beside you. Looking over, you see Barbossa asleep in the chair by your side of the bed, and you then notice he was holding your hand. Once you took the time you wanted to study him, you reached over with your free hand and start to gently shake him awake. Barbossa woke with a start, having you nearly jump back in slight fright. Barbossa’s eyes immediately locks with yours before scooping you up in his embrace while muttering something with what sounded like chattering teeth.

“Oh, thank god! Oh, thank good! You’re alright!”

Of course you returned the embrace , but he was hugging you tight enough to cut off your oxygen, you eventually had to pull away from each other.

“Can’t… breathe…” you mumble against him.

What comes next is a bit eerie, it started with a smile that lets you know your “problem” has been disposed of and was done without a second thought. But to your surprise, this was the opposite, coming from his statement once you ask the first question you had in mind.

“Did… did you kill him?”

“No, he’s still out there somewhere. We’ll find him though, don’t worry.”

“Please don’t kill him, it would bring more bad then any good.” You plea, then something in his eyes tells you he’s in agreement.

“Where is he, they say? If you want him to live, you better hold me back if we ever encounter.”

Instead of a vocal response, you break eye contact and look away.

Barbossa sighs as you feel the hold on your hand growing grow gently tighter before followed by a promise.

“I won’t do anything like that, just know that now no one will ever hurt you again. Never again, love.”

You look back at him.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Barbossa leans in forward and places a loving kiss on your forehead.

You loved this man, no question.

***

Requests: OPEN

Tags: @savvythepirate @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence

[tranakin-skywalker]

anons hot take: reva should have instantly died once she let go of her hatred in owk... not walk off to have her own spinoff show...

I've got a number of gripes and criticisms with the Kenobi show but Reva surviving really isn't one of them. I honestly really liked her as a character and wish the show had done more with the potential that was there.

Having her die kind of misses the thematic point of what letting go of the dark means. As unrealistic as I find it for her to have survived being stabbed during Order 66, there's something very symbolic about her being 'killed' along with all the other Jedi, only to have her dragged back into this unlife, waking up amongst the corpses of her friends as this single solitary ghost, then forced to live for a decade in what is essentially hell, being twisted into something she never should have been. She's a vengeful spirit, unable to move on, just lashing out while stuck in this purgatory. She's trapped forever endlessly chasing after revenge- until she's finally able to break out of that cycle and actually live.

I think there's something really interesting in viewing the dark side as this horrific un-death- unable to die but also unable to live. This in-between limbo of pain and hatred forever eating itself alive. A vicious cycle of sad broken people stripping apart and breaking other people because someone had done the same to them.

Reva was able to break free of that. She stopped herself from continuing on that chain of hurt. I don't think the conclusion of an act like that should be death, but the chance to actually get to live and heal.

[toribookworm22]

Find The Word (×3)

Thank you @axl-ul , @autumnalwalker , @elizaellwrites

No pressure tagging: @kirsten-is-writing @pluttskutt @jaimistoryteller @hrmkingizzy & my open tag!

Your words are: QUIET, DARE, & TOKEN

My words were: tear, wood, fire, duck, connection, recommendation, wake, later, instant, moment, chance, current. Origin under except. Hidden under the cut.

Tear

Looking down, my entire right leg has turned a dark shade of red, dress split up the side to reveal the gash in my thigh staining my tights. “Yikes. Think it looks worse than it is, actually,” I tell her, slipping a finger over the tear in the fabric. “Hardly even hurts.”

Secondary Series

Wood(s)

Nia pants at my side and just a little behind us, I can hear Anny still crying between breaths. Our feet dig into the ground in clunky, rather loud steps, but Paolo said we should be safe in these woods. At least as long as the sun hadn’t risen. 

Queer Superhero Story

Fire

But I had to wonder if maybe the alternative was better? Instead of instantaneous fire and death, however, I was met with enduring horrific… well, really shitty pain. More than I’d thought was previously possible. Each finger and joint and eyelash scream even though I couldn’t force the sound past my mouth. And, with the pain, came the more recent memories: a flash, a color, a face. Me. Falling.

Animatronic Saga

Duck(s)

Merieh and Daran are hot on my heels, flashes of lightning blazing across the sky. There’s no need to count for Merieh; the thunder rumbles immediately. At each flash, everyone in our district that followed me ducks instinctively, getting to the lowest point they can. No one wants to be fried today or any other day, for that matter. 

StormWatcher

Connection

The tingling starts under my ribcage, a pulse completely separate from my own. From there, it seeks out the foreign connection, this time running down my arm and pushing into the boy’s jaw. In the glow of the last candle, the tendrils connecting us look deceivingly orange, but I know better.

Queer Superhero Story

Recommendation

Something about those dark dark eyes. “I recommend you keep your station private, Haryl. And if you need, I can put in a good word to the Commanders."

Animatronic Saga

Wake

Because I don’t miss it. I love the life I’ve built here and the family I’ve created in the wake of the death of my old one and the person I’ve had to become.

Secondary Series

Later

“What, Edward?” She asked weakly. “What do you want from me?”

“You didn’t hurt me. It wasn’t you.”

Inch by inch, she relaxed her face and shoulders, even giving me a soft smile. “I’ll see you later, Edward. Okay?”

Animatronic Saga

Instant

Not her telling me it was almost instant.

I wish I had something else to tell her.

Secondary Series

Moment

The moment my hand loosens around the knife, Roldan’s pulling something from his belt and tossing it at our feet. Nia yells, “Don’t breathe!” but it’s too late.

White smoke puffs up around us as I fall to my knees. Roldan catches me by my shoulders and eases me onto the ground, eyes soft. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I’ll explain everything when you wake up.”

Queer Superhero Story

Chance(s)

I used to, but that’s the thing about loving something. You can’t turn it off. Love is all about second chances.”

Animatronic Saga

Current

The Beggar’s Laws are under update as well.”

A groan slips through my lips. Everybody’s eyes are suddenly on me and I can’t help but feel defensive. “What? That was probably what I missed the least about Earth.”

“Unfortaunte as they are,” Edward tell sme with a sigh. “They’re also the least of our current concern.”

Secondary Series