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#emotional breakdown
ayyy-imma-ninja · 7 days
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soooo today's ep, huh QwQ
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justbreakonme · 8 months
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When the whumpee is so stressed that they just…snap and burst into laughter that soon turns to tears.
That’s my shit.
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aceofwhump · 5 months
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Doctor who 60th Anniversary Special "Wild Blue Yonder"
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the-bloody-sadist · 1 year
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Recharge after cry sesh 🤲 very important (commission for @onigirivulpini )
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oddsconvert · 9 months
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Shattered #9 - It's Cruel To be Kind
Previous / Masterlist / Next
Apologies for the wait!!! 🥺❤️
CW: Whumpee thinks Caretaker is new master/whumper, vampire caretaker, bloodbag whumpee, reference to vampire whumper/previous abuse/captivity, bloodbag whumpee, recovery whump, aftermath of nightmare, emotional breakdown/self doubt (August going through it!!!) [Pls lemme know if I missed any! 🫶]
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The wind is swept from August’s sails. It feels as though he’s adrift in the open ocean. Lost at sea with no waves or wind to carry him to shore. A storm rages overhead, lightning splitting through the pitch-black sky, dark clouds rolling in. There’s an island on the horizon, a glimmer of hope. It calls August - it beckons him. And he tries with all his might to paddle there, waiting for the gust of gaia’s wind to propel him towards salvation.
It never comes. The ferocious ocean waves sway August further away. Totally stranded and utterly helpless. 
August skulks out of Declan’s bedroom in bruised defeat. The desperate screams for mercy and freedom fade until they’re nothing but a distant echo, swallowed up by the silence of the house. This isn’t working. This isn’t fair. They’re getting nowhere. The road they are paving for the human’s recovery is nothing more than them blindly stumbling in the dark and feeling their way around, and it’s to Declan’s detriment. At his expense. Torturing the already tortured soul. 
It’s cruel, August thinks. He took an oath when he devoted his life to medicine; he swore to alleviate pain and suffering, to do no harm, and uphold ethical practices. This cannot be ethical. Surely. What he’s doing feels downright criminal and inhumane. Is it worth the healing of Declan’s body only to terrorise his mind? Leaving him in perpetual anguish and dazing confusion day in and day out. Keeping him hidden and isolated far away from his loved ones.
August slides his back down the wall, head buried in his hands. He can still hear Declan’s shrill cries ringing in his ears, piercing through his heart. Honestly? He always hears them. Day and night. Since that first day Declan woke up and nearly burst his eardrums with his terrified screams. August’s conscience won’t let him forget them, it’s harrowing.
Because Declan is scared half to death of August. The screams are because of him. 
Home might just be the best medicine for Declan. That is the true cure August is searching for. Declan may not be held here with ropes and chains or kept under the lull of persuasion; but he is wholly and unwillingly dependent on August for his survival. Declan has no choice now but to rely on the vampire for his entire humanity -  he’s too weak to fend for himself, let alone chase his own heart's desire. He is reliant on the vampire for his nourishment, for his health, safety and protection and even his communication. His whole way of life. The only way Declan can exercise his own free will, is if August helps him to.
And well…Declan keeps asking for home. Who is August to deny him that?
“He’s going to try some sleep again,” Lucas whispers across the hallway, careful to slowly and gently pull the bedroom door to. No loud or sudden noises. They’ve learned that the hard way. “I’ve promised him we’ll leave him to it for tonight. He just needs space to breathe.”
And then what? Declan jolts awake an hour later in floods of tears and hiccuping sobs again? Do they ignore it this time? Leave him be and let him cry it out? Or send Lucas back in…he likes Lucas. August knows he shouldn’t be, but he’s so envious of that. He’d never harm a hair on Declan’s head, he’s fought tooth and nail to save him. Why must he be branded the bad guy?
August knows the answer. That doesn’t make it any easier.
“I have never seen fear like that in my life,” Lucas slumps beside August on the floor, a far-away look on his face like he’s just seen a ghost. He stares blankly, dead ahead, at the floral wallpaper across from him, and shakes his head in disbelief, “What the hell do you put a man through to make him scream in his sleep?”
Hell. Exactly that. That’s what you put him through. You turn him into a zombie, living dead. A body forced to live when its mind is melted to a puddle. You send him to tango with death and live to tell the tale. Hurt him until he can’t feel it, and even then still hurt him some more. It’s impossible to comprehend the horrors Declan suffered, or fathom why or how someone could do that to another living, breathing being. But it happened, and August can’t change that no matter how hard he tries. 
“Lucas? Do you think we’re doing the right thing?”
It’s a question that’s been rattling inside August’s skull for a while now. Guilt and sympathy fighting each other to the death. He only ever wanted to help Declan back on his feet, bring him completely back to himself and, help deliver him home all in one piece. August could never live with himself if Declan went home to his family,  lifeless and comatose. They may as well have sent him with his casket too. And he can’t send him back as he is now; the tattered man weeping himself into another dread-fueled nightmare.
Or can he? Should he?
“Without a doubt in my mind,” Lucas asserts, certain as can be. He says it with his entire chest, and he seems almost offended by the question. He straightens himself from his slouched slump on the floor, sitting up against the wall and crossing his legs underneath him, “What makes you ask that?”
August opens his mouth, but no words come out. His jaw clicks shut before he can even dare try. If he says it, it makes it all real, doesn’t it? Every worry springs into existence, everything he’s frightened of is brought to life. August will have to face all his mistakes and misdeeds, every foolish mis-step he’s taken in Declan’s care. But he has to own up to it sooner or later. Face the music. So he can do what’s right by Declan.
“I fear…  I fear we’re doing more harm than good to the boy.”
“August-”
“W-What if I’m getting this all wrong?” August falters, his voice thick with shameful, threatening tears. As Lucas shuffles closer to console him, August crumbles even more into the floor and wishes the ground would swallow him whole. “What - What if we’re hurting him, and sure maybe not hurting him like that vile monster who stole him but... in a different way?”
Declan still thinks and feels like a prisoner. He was trapped in Vince’s basement, and then he was trapped in his mind, his body and now trapped all over again. This time as August’s patient, stuck helpless in bed. 
But Lucas shakes his head passionately, giving a reaffirming squeeze to August’s knee. Lucas is too good to August, too kind and forgiving. It’s more than he could ever deserve in this life or the next. But right now his words of encouragement fall on deaf ears, August needs to be told how it is. And it's plain as day that his presence is damaging Declan, not helping him. Declan is still suffering. He’s supposed to be free and thriving, and he’s still hurting.
“Were it not for you, Declan would have taken his last pained breath that first night you brought him home. Even worse, he could have died a broken shell of a man in that basement, alone and suffering. You revived him. You gave him a second life.”
It doesn’t feel like it. What kind of life is jumping at shadows and cowering behind blankets? Terrified of what’s around the corner. A thousand words trapped in his mind that he could never say.
“I bought him. Like livestock…he thinks he’s my property-”
It’s time to call it a day, and let him give up the fight and lay down his sword.
“He’s just scared, August. He’s so scared, and all alone and horribly confused. He’s been through hell and back. It’s not you.”
“It is me, Lucas,” August disagrees,  “It’s what I am.”
A blood-sucking monster that stalks the night looking for its next prey to feed from and drain dry. August has spent his whole life trying to break free from that mould, to run far away from what he’s supposed to be and never look back. Somehow Declan sees right through him, right down to his core. He sees what August refuses and tries to hide from. His own blood, his very nature.
“How could he ever heal at the hands of something he fears the most?” August asks, disgusted with himself. He should rip out his fangs and run outside to bathe in the sun’s agonising rays. It sickens him that he is associated with the brute that did this to Declan. That August’s kind hunt and kill humans for food… for sport. Who could blame Declan for being scared of vampires. August is scared of vampires.
“He deserves better-”
“-Declan deserves you,”  Lucas’ tone was clipped, as if his word was final and there was no possible room for discussion. But August had known him so long, he could hear the affection underneath the terse words. “You are the best thing that could have ever happened to him. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Lucas once looked at him the same way Declan looks at him now. With nothing but fear and disdain in his eyes. Backed into the corner like a scared small animal.  August remembers the way he felt when they both locked eyes for the first time, terror meeting terror; it felt like he wasn’t worthy of breathing the same oxygen. That he was a monster, and should whittle the stake himself and hand it to Lucas with an apologetic bow. 
Has August always mistook help for harm?  He must be doomed to repeat the same cycle of pain. Maybe it’s just in his cold-blood. His vile, worthless blood. Vampires hurt humans. That's how the story goes. There’s nothing he can do to escape that fate.
“My friend,” August chokes up, grabbing Lucas’ hands to squeeze in his own, and stroking his thumb over his wrists.  “I wronged you. I hurt you. Just like I’m hurting Declan now.”
A thousand apologies could never make up for what he’s done, the hurt he inflicted. Years down the line the shame and regret still plagues him, festers inside him deep down. Over and over he’s told he’s forgiven, more times than there are drops in the ocean. Again, it doesn’t change the fact it happened.
“You saved me,” Lucas gasps in awe, astounded by August’s confession. Something they’d both long agreed was water under the bridge. “ Just like you’re saving Declan. Would you have given up on me?”
“Never.”
“Then why give up on him? When he needs you more than I ever did?”
A fire lights inside of August, determination burns within him. This isn’t throwing in the towel, this is him fighting. Doing what’s right, even if it feels wrong. If it means letting go-
“I’m not giving up on him. I would never give up on him. I want to do what’s best by him.”
“I trust you, August. And I think if you just hold in there, Declan will learn to trust you too. It just needs time.”
Time does heal all wounds, as they say. And maybe Lucas is right. Maybe if they just play the waiting game, Declan could make it through to the other side, unharmed and unafraid. Yet August knows that these aren’t fresh wounds - not anymore - they’ve turned to ugly, withered scars. A permanent mark on the boy’s mind, body and soul. There’s no curing that. But could Declan learn to live with that?
“Tell yourself what you tell him. He’s not a captive. We’re going to take him home, yes?” Lucas quirks an interrogative brow, and August nods miserably in response. Declan is starting to feel like a captive against all intent and promises. “I think if we drop him off in human territory now - lame and pain-riddled, scared of everything that moves - that is what would be cruel. Us looking after him and building him back up for a little bit longer; that’s the mercy he’s begging for. Even if he doesn’t realise that right now.”
“How do I know which path to take?” August whispers with a wince, like the daunting thought threatens to implode inside his mind.
“Humans know so little of vampire persuasion, how it affects the brain and body. He could be stuck like this forever. His family will get half their son back at best. Who knows if his state will deteriorate? If he’ll ever walk or talk again. We can help him, August. You know that we can help him feel human again.”
“I don’t want to cause him any more unnecessary pain,” August laments, “He’s been through enough.”
August was never under any illusion this would be easy. He was prepared to weather the storm from the second he first laid eyes on Declan. Down in that basement; knelt and bound, small and fragile, unreachable and lifeless - drowning in Vince's power. August can help Declan, he’s got him this far already, he’s nearly out of the woods. They could do it, this could work. But at what cost? 
“Whatever you decide, I’m with you,” Lucas promises, “Wherever you go, I’ll follow. Always…”
August had saved Lucas before, hadn't he? Perhaps there is still hope. Perhaps he can still save Declan.
---
Thank you to @darkthingshappen for beta-ing this chapter!!!!
Next update will drop on Monday! (7/8) 🫶 Time for a lil flashback to how August and Lucas met... 🤫
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whumpshaped · 11 months
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whumpee completely breaking down over the smallest thing because the stress had been building up for days/weeks/months prior. but now it just seems ridiculous to everyone around them.
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rosstrytobe · 9 months
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satubby · 7 months
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Damn now I'm more depressed
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I don't know how true it is but I'm screwed, now I hate Sukuna more and especially GEGE, for my sake they should all rot... I know that others don't think so much but Satoru Gojo is my husbando from 4 years ago , I don't want to live knowing that he is dead in canon. Now I understand Nanamilovers, it hurts A LOT...rest in peace my love
I will be making scenarios of him as a god to take away this anger and sadness, I love all my followers...
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whumpetywhump · 5 months
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Flowers For Algernon - Ep. 1
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browesishu · 4 months
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(Major spoilers for JJK [Jujutsu Kaisen manga and anime])
I've had depression stage 2 for like five fucking days now just because some heartless writer killed off Gojo and made the dead Geto who's corpse is being used by a bad bat shit psycho man.
Yea play with my emotions like that and I'll commit something worse than genocide.
Lemme go cry in a corner again.
Happy Fucking New Year
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how-much-for-a-whump · 10 months
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TWO WEEKS OF WHUMP day 10:
Prompt: "Phone call"
Ateş Kuşları 20. Bölüm
@promptsforyourwhumpfic
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illnessandinjury · 2 months
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of course I went through these scenes frame by frame to see his suffering, don’t you know who I am?
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sachiko1309 · 5 months
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I will protect you - Part 1
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Summary: After the kidnapping and rape of Lucy, the relationship between Spock and her strained, causing a big fight between the two. Both interpreting the actions of the other wrong.
Word count: 3699
Warnings: fight, overwhelmed Spock, confronting her rapist, mentioning of rape, emotional break down Minors DNI! this contains adult content
In honor of a good friend of mine: @mystery-star thanks for poking my brain to produce happy chemicals and therefore continuing to write 🥰
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The longer my condition lasted, the colder Spock became. He never took his hardness out on me, but I could see it in the way he talked to Jim or Bones, the way his hands shook when he tried to forcefully maintain control. Maybe that was exactly what made me pull myself together and get out of bed. One day, I didn't know exactly which one, I had the urge to do something. Spock had just been called to the bridge to join Jim, so I had my cabin to myself. I got in the shower, brushed my teeth and put on a uniform. This time I decided on a version with trousers, tying my hair back in a bun.
Before I left my room, I checked again to make sure the hallway was clear. Then I set off quickly and quietly towards the prisoner track. I stalked the halls like a leper. Always careful not to be seen by anyone. My absence on the bridge had certainly been noticed by now and the additional absence of Spock had probably started some rumors.
Only when I reached my destination did I breathe a sigh of relief. Luckily, the cell hallway was empty. A single camera monitored the hallway, but I knew it would only be checked if an alarm went off. I locked the door behind me and pulled a chair in front of the only inhabited cell in this area.
When I raised my head, Hanesh was already looking at me expectantly: "Brave." Was all he said as he looked me over. "Why?" Was all I asked, not taking my eyes off the man in front of me. He just tilted his head. “Why what?” There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, but I wasn’t sure. I crossed my legs and continued to look at him: “Why all this? Where’s the logic?”
My question seemed to appeal to him because he got up from his bed and slowly stalked towards the invisible barrier that separated us. “The better question would be, why not?” Was his answer. “Why not take what you can? What's the point of putting a chastity belt on yourself when everything is at your feet? It is the logic of nature. The right of the strongest. And you, my love, are unfortunately one of the weak ones.”
"I'm not weak." The defiance was clear in my voice, causing Hanesh to laugh out loud. "But of course. That's why it was so incredibly difficult to get my hands on you. The strong, untouchable Lieutenant Lucy Esteban. If so, how come your own captain would trade you for a relic? Even your race draws a line. Determines which people should be protected and which should not. And the man you call your partner... The pathetic bastard of a Vulcan, born of a lowly human woman... Guided by his feelings, like his father, he falls for the next human woman who spreads her legs only to lose to me.”
Hanesh threw his head back and cackled maliciously. He laughed so loudly that my words were almost lost in the echo: “The only one who lost is you. You’re sitting in a cell. You will be prosecuted. And if Spock was so weak, how come you lost to him? According to your logic, this should never have happened. And yet here we are.” Slowly, a small smile crept onto my lips as I saw how much my words affected my tormentor.
“Don’t you dare…” He tried to threaten me, but I sat up in my chair. “What?” I cocked my chin arrogantly, looking at him with my undisguised hatred. "What you wanna do? You have failed. Lost to a human and a halfling.”
“Did I?” Hanesh quickly regained his stillness. His eyes dripped with mockery as he spoke, “You will never be able to forget me. I will always be a part of you. Your constant shadow that makes you look over your shoulder. Who makes you see every man as an enemy. Makes every corner a danger. You will never be completely at peace. And it will eat you up. Letting you go to waste. To the point where even a Vulcan can no longer bear what his k'diwa has become. Tell me, do you let Spock touch you or can't you stand being close to him? How long do you think he will take it before he turns away? Weeks? Months if you’re lucky?”
His words brought tears to my eyes, I desperately tried to blink them down, but I couldn't. The first rolled down my cheek and dripped onto my arm. “I won't let this happen. Spock won't go. We will make it."
“If you say so, love. But I don't think you believe a single word you say." Hanseh's voice was quiet but full of hatred. He knew exactly what his words were doing. How deeply they affected me.
He voiced my worst fears. Would Spock endure what he had seen? Would he, no could he still love me after all this? He was barely able to look me in the eyes now. Every time I shied away from him, he disappeared for a while, leaving me behind. Was it his way to get away from me?
"Cam you see it now? Your decline has already begun.” Hanesh ’s last words finally made me jump. I ran, no raced, down the hall and unlocked the door with shaking fingers. His laughter echoing through the halls, following me all the way to my cabin, and continued even as I pressed my hands over my ears and fell to the floor screaming.
***
The door opened behind me and someone sank to their knees next to me. “T'hy'la. No. Don't let him win. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.” Spock. I blindly reached for his hands, letting his feelings completely overwhelm me in order to forget my own. He stiffened, perplexed, but I didn't care. I needed him and the conversation with Hanesh had shown me exactly that. Sobbing, I climbed into his lap and began to cling to him.
Spock snapped out of his trance and pulled me into a tight hug. He slowly got up from the floor and carried me towards the bed, then buried me under himself and the blanket. As if he wanted to banish the world around me from my mind. I just continued to hold onto him. Arms and legs wrapped tightly around his torso, head buried in his chest, as I listened to his heartbeat. He said nothing. Just held me tight. One arm supported his body weight while the other held my head to his chest. Only when I pressed my head against his hand did he let go of me and leaned on both arms. I wasn't sure what made me do it, but I pulled his head down again and pressed my lips to his.
As soon as he felt my kiss, Spock gave in. Sighing, he sank onto his forearms and deepened the kiss. It was beautiful and terrible at the same time. Spock's soft lips, the closeness that I finally felt with him again. But there was something else. Fear and panic spread through me and I tried obsessively to suppress them. But Spock had already sensed them.
He suddenly let go of me, sitting back on his knees as he moved away from me. “I'm sorry, t'hy'la . Please forgive me.” I was confused. What should I forgive him for? He must have misinterpreted my expression because Spock got up from the bed. He stood rigidly still in the middle of the room, unsure whether he should go or stay. He chose the former.
That finally triggered the panic in me. “Don’t!” I almost screamed, my voice cracking, as I jumped up and held him tight. "Do not go. Don't leave me alone.” Even though Spock hugged me back, I could sense how uncomfortable he felt. His voice was now as emotionless as if he were speaking to colleagues. “I’m scaring you. You don't have to suppress your fear because of me. It's only logical that you shy away from physical contact after everything that's happened.”
“I don’t shy away from your physical contact.” I contradicted him and took his hands in mine as if to prove it. "Do you see? You don't scare me. I know you would never harm me.”
"And yet I felt your panic when I kissed you." Spock continued to resist.
“But that has nothing to do with you. I…” I looked around the room, struggling for words. "I... Hanesh ... When you knelt over me like that, I was back on his ship for a moment... I don't know why..."
“Your brain processes the experience by reliving memories in similar situations to evaluate how to deal with it.” Spock rattled off and released his hands from mine again. “I won’t pressure you into anything. You need time to process everything.” He wanted to leave again, but I held him again. "Time." I spat. “It's been weeks. You sat by my bed for almost four weeks, enduring everything with me. I don't need any more time. I need you. Your hugs, your love, your touches.”
"It wouldn't be right..." Spock didn't look at me. His face was impassive. Eyes fixed firmly on the door. “Not right?” Now I got angry. "Give me one reason why it's not right for my boyfriend... husband by Vulcan law, to sleep with me?" That's when Spock turned around. “You are emotionally upset. It would be better if we talked about it another time.” His voice was cold and calculating, his eyes fixed on me without any expression.
His rejection stung me and I reflexively pulled the walls up around me again. “So it’s because of my emotionality. An emotionality that is to be expected with such a topic. And all you can think of is 'we'll talk later'?" I flippantly lifted my chin and looked at him challengingly. But my reaction didn't seem to have any effect on him. Quite the opposite. Nodding stiffly, he replied, “That’s correct.”
At those three words, everything inside me broke. My heart shattered in the depths of my grief as my body was pierced by searing arrows of anger. Somehow I managed to keep my anger in check and not yell at him, even though everything in me wanted to slap him. Spock, on the other hand, seemed to either not notice my anger or deliberately ignore it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Intimacy too soon could further affect you and cause long-term damage. It would be better if we took it slower so as not to overwhelm you.”
“Not to overwhelm me?” I practically screamed. The dam inside me had burst. Tears ran down my cheeks, my hands were shaking and I felt nauseous. But I pulled myself together. I took a deep breath before continuing: “I think I know better what is right for me and what isn’t. I am grateful for your consideration. Really. Because I know you only want the best for me. But I need this. Need you.” My words seemed to soften him because he visibly relaxed. But what he said next was the opposite of what I expected: “Your assessment that I only want the best for you is entirely correct. But I think your statement that you know better what is good for you in your current state is wrong. You are emotionally upset, which means your ability to make decisions is negatively affected. So it would definitely be better to listen to my advice.”
My jaw literally dropped to my feet. Did he really just…? Without thinking about it, I rushed towards him and tried to slap him. Unfortunately he was significantly faster than me. He deftly caught my hand and looked at me confused, but I was no longer able, let alone willing, to explain to him what he had done wrong. “Get out!” I yelled at him. “Just leave. And I swear to God, if you so much as set foot in my cabin, I will kill you.”
"K'diwa ..." Spock tried to calm me down, but I had had enough: "NO! I don't care what you want to say. Your presumption to think that you can decide for me... Telling me through the grape wine that I am not capable of taking responsibility for my decisions... Patronizing me so much... Enough is enough. Just leave!” I pushed against his body with all my strength, trying to force him out of my cabin, but I couldn't. Like a tree, he stood firmly rooted without moving an inch.
"T'hy'la ...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… It was never my intention to patronize you…” But I didn't let him explain any further. I grabbed the first object I could find and threw it at Spock. “Get out now!” My voice had now reached a height where I was sure it wasn't far until I could burst glasses. My whole body was shaking, as my heartbeat was pounding in my ears and I was on the verge of losing consciousness.
Spock also seemed to notice that it would be better to leave at this moment, because he walked backwards towards the door with his hands raised. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me, t’hy’la.” But I studiously ignored his words and waited until the door closed before locking it.
I collapsed on the floor crying. I curled up in a ball and just sobbed to myself. It felt like all my strength had gone from my limbs, like the control of my body had left the room with Spock. I slowly rolled onto my back and remained motionless. With my eyes fixed on the ceiling above me, focused on the feeling of wet tears running from my eyes and into my hairline. I was cold. Not in an actual perceived temperature, it was more of an emotional coldness that slowly ate through my body, devouring me body part by body part, leaving me completely numb.
In the corner of my eye I saw the clock on my wall. 10:34 am. That meant, in theory, I still had almost seven hours of work ahead of me. I sat up abruptly and walked into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I took off my clothes, got in the shower and started getting ready for the day. I looked as if my body had been turned into a mindless shell, but I couldn't care less. I needed a distraction. A distraction from Spock, Hanesh, and my own mind. And what could be better than work?
With the PADD tucked under my arm, I made my way towards the bridge. As I went, I noticed people staring at me, but I ignored them. I was completely focused on the path in front of me and the feeling of the uniform pants slapping against my legs. With every step the fabric seemed to get stiffer, as if my clothes themselves were trying to keep me from working. Taking one last deep breath, I walked through the door of the bridge.
Within a split second, all eyes were on me. Spock and Jim looked as if they had seen a ghost, while the rest looked at me with looks varying from joy to confusion to concern. Without even explaining my appearance to anyone, I went to my seat and stuck the communicator in my ear. I then connected my PADD to the computer and began translating various captured messages. Apparently some messages had been intercepted while I was away and either couldn't be translated or were marked as unimportant.
Nobody spoke to me. Not even Spock, although he sat down next to me and went about his own work. After a while, the feeling that I was being watched disappeared and I heard the hustle and bustle behind me start again.
***
I didn't quite realize how much time had passed, but as the bridge emptied around midday, Spock cleared his throat for the first time. He stood next to me, stiff as ever, holding a plate of food in his outstretched hand. “I have come to apologize for my previous behavior and hope that after work we can find a solution to our problem together.”
My eyes darted back and forth between his face and the plate. “You brought me food? Why?” Was all I could come up with, still completely confused by the situation. Spock, however, seemed like he was doing the most logical thing in the world. “I have discovered over the weeks of our relationship that food contributes to your emotional upliftment. Since my last action left you upset, it was only logical that I contribute something to your well-being.”
"So, you're bribing me?" I asked, reaching for the plate in his hand. Apparently, Spock was still wary of any further outbursts on my part, so he stopped and looked at me. “Please forgive, t'hy'la. I don't quite understand how providing basic needs can be an attempt at bribery." His helplessness forced a small smile on my lips and I couldn't help but reach for his hand.
"It was a joke." I replied as I linked our fingers together. “Of course, I will talk to you later. Sorry I freaked out so much. I don't know why, and I really hope you can forgive me." Ashamed, I looked down and tried to hide the blush on my face.
"K'diwa." Spock's fingers under my chin forced me to look at him again. “There is nothing to apologize for. Even though I don't fully understand how you feel, I do understand why you reacted the way you did. I also had a very insightful conversation with my father and he made me understand what my mistake was.” I shook my head. "You didn't do anything wrong." But Spock interrupted me before I could launch into another tirade: "I tried to answer your emotions with my logic. That was wrong. Please forgive me, from now on I will try to respond to you better and make you feel like I am there for you. Because it seems that you humans value emotional support far more than a logical approach to solving a problem.”
I couldn't help but laugh at that. I placed the plate on the counter and ignored the reproachful look Spock passed between me and the plate. Then, I stood up and took his face in my hands and this time he didn't back away from me. Quite the opposite. He rested his hands on my waist and just looked at me.
"I love you." Was all I said before I pulled him down and kissed him, knowing that everyone on the bridge was probably staring at us right now. But Spock didn't seem to care either, because he wrapped an arm around my body and pulled me closer to him. Out of reflex, I relaxed and let him guide me. His lips were gentle yet firm on mine while his free hand rested on mine at the back of his neck. I immediately felt the relief rolling through his body and mixing with his love for me. Unlike usual, he barely suppressed the strength of his emotions and I clung to his uniform as my knees threatened to buckle under the force.
Only a loud clearing of a throat behind him caused us to break apart. He immediately pushed me behind him and puffed up protectively. But when he saw it was Jim and his father, he visibly relaxed and loosened the arm holding me behind him. “Captain. Father.” Was all he replied with a nod before turning to his desk. Jim looked at me with a questioning look, while Sarek just raised a knowing eyebrow.
I just shrugged and took the plate in my hand. As I ate, I went back to my work and tried not to pay too much attention to the whispers behind me. But I didn't succeed. Sighing, I almost slammed the plate on my desk and turned around in my chair: "Does anyone have a problem or a question that would otherwise burn through the seat of their pants?"
With a raised eyebrow, I surveyed the people in the room and looked everyone in the eye for a few seconds. Many looked down in shame, but a few held their ground. Sulu was the first to speak, "Not that it's any of our business, but we're all curious as to why you and Commander Spock haven't shown up for work for the last few weeks. Well not precisely, the Commander was on the bridge every now and then, but still. Some of us are worried. That's all."
I nodded and looked at him. “I understand and I’m really grateful for it. But I can't talk about it yet. And maybe I never will be able to. What I can say is that I'm fine. At least given the circumstances.”
“So, you're not pregnant?” Chekov blurted out, causing me to barely suppress a giggle. "No. I'm not. My absence is more of a psychological nature and Spock was there to support me.” Chekov nodded, his ears turning red.
“It’s a shame actually. It would have been the first Enterprise baby.” Sulu looked at me with a grin, whereupon I just showed him the middle finger. But he ignored me and turned to Chekov instead. With his hand outstretched, he said, “Looks like you owe me 50 bucks, Pavel.”
My jaw literally dropped to the floor. "You haven't seriously bet on whether I'm pregnant, have you?" Sulu just tilted his head. “Well actually, we bet on pretty much anything when it comes to you and the Commander. It’s not every day that a Vulcan is so human.” Shaking my head, I turned back. “Honestly, those who have you as friends no longer need enemies…”
“Pffff, you would be missing something if it were any other way.” I responded to Sulu’s objection with another middle finger and got a few laughs in the process.
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aceofwhump · 11 months
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Jamie Tartt crying in Ted Lasso 3x11
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Unspoken words
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warning : big angst, emotional, hurt/comfort, hurt, little comfort, kiss, blood, wounds, tw:death, no use of Y/n
Charlie Walker x fem reader
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was supposed to be a party like any other. A Stabathon in the barn all the students together in one place to celebrate horror and almost honour Ghostface. A party organised by Charlie Walker and Roobie Mercer.
An event that should bring them fun, joy and glory at least for the night. Including their mutual friend and member of the film club.
Who helped them prepare everything and make sure everything went smoothly.
The brown-haired man let his gaze wander over the crowd, himself standing a little apart with Robbie, watching his work.
His grip on the plastic cup tightened a little as a smile came to his lips. It's going to be our massacre tonight, he thought, sipping his drink. Knowing that tonight he and Jill would get what they wanted.
Fame, glory, bravery and their sacrifices. They had talked it all through, planned it all for months. Every single thing talked through. Everything would be perfect.
Although he felt the thought of killing Kirby at first, Jill made him realise what she had done to him. That she had only used him, that she didn't love him, he also came to the conclusion that she had only used him.
The blonde had only used him. Before his blue eyes settled on her. And he felt the warmth come to his cheeks.
His classmate and film club member whom he liked more and more. Until he realised that he had lost his heart to her. Unlike Kirby, she didn't make fun of him, didn't take advantage of him and was mean.
No, she paid attention to him, showed interest in his things and was always nice and friendly to him. They had even met several times, watched films together, talked about the staff series.
She had already reached for his hand when she was frightened. He had felt her rapid heartbeat, her fear, and had even taken her in his arms for a moment.
He was almost one hundred percent sure that she also felt something for him. ,,The evening is going really well," he suddenly heard her voice as she came over to them.
She herself had asked for a drink and stood with her friends. ,,It's going perfectly, thanks again for helping" Charlie said and she gave him a smile which he returned.
He felt the tingle in his stomach as she stood next to him. The way she smiled, her eyes following the film.
She murmured the sentences along lightly.You are safe he thought and felt his nervousness calm down a little. He knew you had no place in his and Jill's plan, you wouldn't be a victim either.
He had often imagined you running up to him the next day, dressed in bandages and plasters, coming back to school with Jill as a hero.
How you would hug him, maybe even confess your feelings before he hugged you back and mourned him together.
Everything would be perfect. The film continued and he saw you suddenly get a message, a look of joy told him it must be something good before you put your phone away again and said, ,,I'll be right back, get me another drink". The two boys nodded before playfully waving goodbye.
Before his and Jill's plan slowly came to fruition. The party broke down, Ghostface ominously appeared and the police came before the selected group of victims gathered at Kirby's house.
There too, everything went as planned and even when Jill disappeared at some point, he knew exactly what he had to do.
Knew exactly where which knives were, knew exactly when to strike. Knew exactly when he and Jill had to take care of killing Kirby.
Before there was a sudden knock on the door and he looked out into the hallway. ,,What are you doing here?" he asked, completely stunned, and felt how he would have liked to walk out with you again.
He would have grabbed you and taken you to safety. He saw her holding her mobile phone out to him and saw that Jill had sent you a message earlier in the barn.
That you should come to a little party round. Jill what have you done? he thought in shock and was about to tell you to leave when he realised that Jill and he had to go through with his plan if they were going to make it. ,,Just sit down here and wait a minute," he said rather hastily and put a glass of water in your hand.
The last thing he needed was for her to get drunk. ,,Charlie...are you all right?" she asked him suddenly, holding his wrist. He felt his heart tighten, felt sick as he realised the danger you were in.
He swallowed and searched his feelings for you for a way out. ,,Yeah, yeah, everything's fine, don't worry," he said and gave her a small smile, which she returned and continued to look at the staff alone, convinced that he would get the friends.
He gave her one last look before he disappeared and began to play his role. Killed Robbie his so-called friend. Learned his secret which did not protect him from death.
Before he and Jill pulled the play, he lured Kirby out and plunged the knife into her stomach. Killing her and moving on, he was about to continue the plan when he heard a scream.
A scream that made him stop, made his heart pound with fear, made him sweat with fear and he felt himself panic.
He called out her name, gripping the knife tighter to keep from going berserk before running back into the living room. ,,No," came the quietly stunned sound from his lips. The blood-soaked knife fell from his hand as he dropped to his knees beside her.
He could see the blood pouring out of her belly from the multiple knife wounds. Her hands could barely muster the strength or pressure to press against it.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and a puddle of blood formed underneath her. ,,Ch-Charlie" said so quietly that he was afraid he had imagined it. ,,Everything is going to be all right...I'm here," he said, his vision blurring slightly as tears formed in his eyes.
Before he pulled himself lightly into his shot she groaned painfully and whimpered before her bloody hands seemed to seek his. ,,I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he said, crying, and reached for her hand, squeezing it, feeling the sticky blood on her hand. He felt how she seemed to be getting weaker and weaker.
She shook her head slightly as best she could, coughing, gasping blood staining her lips. ,,N-No Charlie...you-you're safe" she said and he realised that even though she was dying her feelings were so strong that she cared for him.
A desperate smile came to his lips as he brushed a few strands of hair from her face, still holding her close. ,,I-I should have stayed with you...she shouldn't have dared," he said and for a moment he thought he saw something like realisation in her gaze.
Saw her expression turn into a tortured one. ,,Please-please stay....with me," she said, seeming to ignore the fact that he was Ghostface.
She didn't seem to care. ,,I promise I will. I won't leave you," he said, feeling her squeeze his hand lightly. ,,I-I have to tell you-" she interrupted herself with another cough before whimpering again as tears continued to run down her cheeks. ,,Don't talk," Charlie tried to reassure her, afraid that every second she strained would only make her die faster.
But she shook her head again slightly and her one hand slipped from his.
Before she gently rested her hand on his cheek with trembling fingers. She felt his warmth and was glad to have him with her. Before she said her last words, ,,Charlie...I-I love you". She confessed her love to him and he wanted to say it back.
But she was dead, her hand slipped from his cheek and the other slipped from his grasp.
All tension seemed to leave her body, her gaze became dull and no longer focused on him. ,,I love you too," he replied quietly, accepting what he had done before gently laying her on the floor before doing what he had wanted to do for so long.
He kissed her and felt her still warm soft lips on his. But he would never get another kiss from her. She was dead. The girl he loved was dead.
She had died because of him, he could have protected her but he had not. It was he who led to her death. Because what killed her were lies. They were unspoken words.
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the-bloody-sadist · 1 year
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Random sketch of Ellum for some stupid TikTok I did a while ago 🍭 my baby
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