#with this scene in particular

[whump-in-the-closet]

Raising Chaos.

masterlist.

cw: captivity whump, demeaning language, burning (specifically of someone’s hand) as a torture method, sadistic whumper, inhuman whumpee (let me know if i missed any)

***

Chiar had learned to fear the sound of Bridge’s footsteps in the hallway. It had taken a while…how many days had he passed in this place anyway? When would they realize he wasn’t going to talk?

The idiots.

They couldn’t make him.

The footsteps came closer.

Chiar tried to push himself up. He had to be ready– had to be. He couldn’t face Bridge on the ground. He couldn’t.

His hands shook against the stones. Bridge had stopped bothering with the chains. Like he said, there was nowhere for the cryptid to go. No one for the cryptid to use his “abilities” on. Unfortunately, Bridge seemed to know that Chiar couldn’t hurt him unless he had skin on skin contact. He always wore gloves and long sleeves.

The lack of restraints served as just another way of reminding Chiar exactly what Bridge thought of him.

“You’re pathetic.”

I’m not pathetic.

His arms collapsed. Every part of him throbbed– Bridge hit hard. Harder than the thugs that used to wait for Chiar in the corners of the cities.

Chiar pressed his head back against the stones.

Silence.

A faint ringing in his ears.

And the door swung open. Slammed shut.

Chiar did not look up.

The footsteps were recognizable. As was the raspy breathing.

Leave me alone.

Bridge kicked him. Hard in the ribs. “Get up.” There was no pity in his voice. No sign of ever giving up. It was as hard and annoying as that first day.

Chiar didn’t move. He hissed in pain, but didn’t move. The stones provided more comfort than Bridge’s relentless questions.

“No.” There was no point in getting up. There was no point in listening to Bridge’s condescending questions either, so he covered his ears as best he could with his hands.

His Oath held him.

He would not break it.

I’m not pathetic.

Bridge was wrong.

He had held out. It hurt, but he was holding out. And that, more than anything else, was as good as spitting in Bridge’s face. There was a ghost of a smile on his face as he curled up on the floor.

But Chiar had not seen the annoyance on Bridge’s face that had quickly flickered to anger. Bridge grabbed Chiar by his hair, hauling him to his feet.

“What did you say to me?” Bridge drawled each word out, but behind the casual tone was an underlying threat.

Chiar heard it loud and clear. He yanked his head out of Bridge’s grip. The buzzing increased. Not loud enough to become distracting, but loud enough to make it hard to think clearly.

He smiled– more of a grimace– at Bridge. “I said, go fuck yourself.”

I can take whatever you throw at me, Interrogator.

Bridge’s mask of cordiality vanished. He backhanded Chiar across his mouth.

“It’s time you learned a lesson in respect.”

Chiar stepped back, the taste of copper coating his teeth. The buzzing turned into steady white noise.

But Bridge’s eyes were on Chiar’s hands– the energy had surged under his fingers. His already distinctive blue nails had taken on almost a glowing tinge.

Chiar spat the blood out.

Is that the best you’ve got?

Bridge smiled. It was not a kind smile. Chiar felt a shudder spike through his nerves as he glanced down at his hands.

For a brief moment, he thought about what it would feel like to wrap them around Bridge’s throat and surge. To have Bridge choke under his fingertips, unable to hold the wash of energy that Chiar forced into him.

Bridge was still smiling.

Chiar backed into the wall and as Bridge crossed the distance between them, put his hands out to stop him.

But Bridge only grabbed his wrist and jerked him forward, manacling his hand to the wall. His grip was stronger than Chiar expected, and he half-expected for the bones to crack under Bridge’s hand.

He cursed. Loudly. He was past caring if Bridge heard him.

But that infuriating smile never left Bridge’s face. “You’re going to learn respect, cryptid, mark my words.”

Respect?

For what? For who? For the humanity he’d lost? For the remnants of humanity that remained?

I think not.

Chiar wrestled with the metal on his wrist. “Once I’m free—” this was emphasized by another ripping yank at the chain, “Once I’m free, you’d better run–” Blood trailed down his arm.

There was no release, and the metal burned, so when Bridge approached, Chiar lunged at him with his free hand. In the darkness, his eyes glowed. Sparks of energy formed on his nails and traced their way up his arm.

Bridge backed away.

Chiar continued to yank at his chained wrist, spewing every curse he could think of at the Interrogator. He hated Bridge and his stupid condescending words and his interrogation tactics–

And–

Chiar’s thoughts came to an abrupt stop. The buzzing died down, replaced with an emptiness that swallowed him and an exhaustion that could drown him. The air bled with a heaviness that pressed down all around him.

Bridge had neatly stepped to the side and taken hold of Chiar’s free wrist in a gloved hand.

Chiar hissed at him, trying to pull away, but the Interrogator’s grip was as unyielding as the metal. Bridge tied a thick rope around the cryptid’s wrist, and looped the ends through a hook in the ceiling. When Bridge stepped back, Chiar’s arm was suspended in midair, though he tried to yank it back.

Chiar felt a spike of fear cut through his anger. “What is the purpose of this?” His tongue felt strangely thick.

The glowing in his eyes had died to little more than a faint light.

Bridge didn’t deign to answer. He stepped out of the cell.

Chiar’s head swam. The anger had quickly morphed into all-encompassing exhaustion. He collapsed against the ropes, only looking up to watch Bridge return with a torch.

A torch?

What did the Interrogator need the torch for? He choked on the fear rising in his throat. If he had eaten anything recently, he would have thrown it up.

In the darkness the flames moved like a creature of their own, bending, twisting, taking shapes beyond comprehension.

They came closer.

“This is a lesson you won’t forget.” Bridge’s voice dripped with false sympathy.

No.

No.

The flames flickered. Red. Blue. Red again as they enveloped Chiar’s hand.

He screamed. More from the horror of it than the pain. That was his hand— his hand— burning. The smell of charred skin— that god awful smell— was because his skin was on fire.

The rope frayed under the double pressure of Chiar’s frantic struggle to escape the fire and the flames themselves. With a final snap of the rope, Chiar curled in on himself, cradling his hand to his chest.

If anything, the pain increased with the absence of fire.

Chiar sobbed, the throbbing burn spreading up his arm and settling into a rhythm.

Dimly, he registered Bridge’s words. “Have you learned to respect me now, cryptid?”

The torch flickered closer in warning.

Keep that back. He needed that far far away from him.

Keep that back!

The words fell out of Chiar’s mouth before he could stop them. “Yes! I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” And then he curled back in on himself, held up only by the chain on his undamaged wrist.

Bridge was smiling as he left the cryptid in the darkness.

tagged: @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @pigeonwhumps (let me know if you want to be added/ removed)

[beif0ngs]

alright look, i just wanna know who is the writer that came up with the dumbass idea of replacing the line “Ever since I lost my son, I think of you as my own” with “Lu Ten would have been proud to have you as his father” in this scene for the Netflix live action series???

[seventeendeer]

ppl are too quick to point to laios' disability as the reason his friends think he's a freak sometimes. so many instances of laios getting yelled at are, in my eyes, a case of "this guy had to emotionally mature very early in order to be there for his little sister" combined with "much older friends who never had to learn to manage their own emotions to the same degree"

a lot of the time he's right about needing to be more direct/deal with things in a way that may seem scary/needing to put your gut reaction aside. he tries not to make his friends uncomfortable and he puts up with a lot because he's trying to keep the peace, but he also pushes the others out of their comfort zones purposefully to try to get them to think more constructively. everyone else in the party is prone to acting on their gut instincts and avoiding uncomfortable situations even when facing them head-on is very much necessary. part of what makes laios such a great leader is the fact that he knows from experience how to put his own feelings aside to help someone else grow.

yes, he does make a lot of social blunders by accident and he does struggle to connect with others, but not all of his positive influence on others is accidental or "despite" making people uncomfortable. a lot of the time, I think it's clear he knows exactly what he's doing and he's trying to help the people around him process emotions in a healthy way as they all go through some truly harrowing shit. all the main characters support each other as well as they can with their unique emotional skillsets. laios' skillset just happens to be "gently talk child into eating her vegetables"

[six-tooth]

I love you Pomni even when you're possessed and evil

[abstractfrog]

Happy 1 year anniversary to Mr Sherlock Holmes! Here's a litttleee celebratory comic from me

[originalartblog]

I have one obsession and it's Dazai and Chuuya's dog being petty

Scene from @whathorselegs' Kuma, His Human and the Other One!

(previous doodles and comic of the same fic)

[yrsonpurpose]

@rwrbsource & @rwrbmovie's rwrb appreciation month bingo book to film moment: “Alex?” Henry’s voice sounds scratchy and bewildered across the line. “Have you really rung me at three o’clock in the morning to make me listen to a turkey?” [chapter four]

[catloverwhovian]

thinking about how annoyed crowley is with jimbriel the whole season and yet when hes curious about gravity crowley just. explains it. jim asks ‘why’ and crowley doesn’t act annoyed at all and actually tries to remember. and then he answers honestly when he’s not sure. thinkin about that a whole lot

[bloodydeanwinchester]

Confession Scene Random Moment: let's pregame november 5th with this random moment from the confession scene! castiel is well and truly crying now as he makes his big declaration!! dean is beginning to realize that something BAD is about to happen—cas is saying all these nice things to him because he's about to sacrifice himself for him!! it only gets worse from here!!

[littlenastieswewhispered]

“buffy ended the show single :)” ok but only because her current love interest just DIED!! (he near quite literally died in her arms! in sacrifice for her!) her last words of the entire series were telling him she loves him and then saying his name in admiration. she isn’t single; she’s a widow.

[ceilidho]

'STILL WAKES THE DEEP' AU | MASTERLIST

SOAP x READER

You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works.

Or: scenes from the 'Still Wakes the Deep' au

a collaboration between @bi-writes and @ceilidho

tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Dubious Consent, Deep Sea Creature, Eldritch Monster, Minor Character Death, AFAB reader, TBA

First Meeting Warning Signs

Extras

Initial posts (1, 2) Series moodboard

[drdt-oclock]

of all the wonders that I yet have heard,

it seems to me most strange that men should fear,

seeing that death, a necessary end,

will come when it will come.

[seefasters]

reunion

[gesunas]

[doostyaudi]

How bugs look at u whenever u lift up a rock

[girl-bateman]

I guess that this is as good of a time as any to remind people that WRITERS MAKE THE STORY!!!! I cannot count how many times I see posts praising tv directors for things that are simply not their doing. That iconic line of dialogue? Yeah a screenwriter wrote that. The characters you love? Screenwriter. The places, the plot lines, the developments? Writers.

A show CANNOT happen without a script because a script is necessary for EVERYONE to do their job right. It dictates what set to look for/create, the filming schedule, the casting calls, the costumes and so on. It's not just words on a paper, its the backbone for all of production and it deserves to get recognised as the integral part of tv and film as it is.