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blorbologist · 2 years

Note

Imogen for the whump prompts? Maybe 13 or 14? (Or any others that take your fancy.)

(Whumptober: 13, "Can't make an omelette without breaking a few legs," Fracture/dislocation + 14, "Die a hero or live long enough to become a villain," desperate measures, failed escape.)

(TW for broken bones, dislocation, hurting the one you love to try n save them. It's Rough.)

Imogen never thought, never in her life, that the waking world could be as red as her dreams.

I mean - sure. If you stuck her in a neat red barn, full of Rexxentrum Red hens, slathered in red paint just to make a point, yeah, she would agree that’s pretty damn red. Imogen would also think you tacky and miserable, not that she’d say it or think it loud.

It would be red, sure, but not red.

Red the color, not red the experience.

Red rolls and roars and ravages. It’s blood and heat and adrenaline and fear and power and not.

Usually, when faced with red - overwhelming, overwhelming red - Imogen runs. Red and run rhyme in her head. Hells, runnin’ is usually the only thing she can do in her head for anything. Get away from the noise, get away from the feelings, get away, get away, push it all down and be quiet and make it quiet.

So when the crawler crashed - and maybe it was just the speed of the whipping sand or the fear that made each grain a ruby or a fleck of dried blood - and the world was red... Imogen ran.

And then everything became saturated. Not just red but a state beyond it, like she could see heat like some sort of snake. Saturated with blood. All of theirs, all of Orym’s, all of Fearne’s, all of Laudna’s.

Imogen scrubbed as much red as she could. From everything - from Laudna’s poor clothes, from Pâté’s fur, from her hands where she’d held her. Couldn’t stand the color on a good day - why you think she leans for pastels and soft browns that all yell if that damn color touches ‘em? - but now, now, she just. It’s loud, it’s like the voices, but worse because she can’t shut it out.

So when Imogen next dreams and red, fucking red drowns her, she’s rooted to the ground.

Ruddy sand and scarlet blood a mud around her ankles, tugging at her skirts and squelching into her boots. Or maybe she’s imaginin’ it.

It isn’t the storm in her dreams.

Not open fields, a lonely house, a lonelier figure. Crowded - with buildings, with bodies, with Otohan’s dark mirrors. Crowded and yet there was nothin’ to hear.

Laudna’s red.

She’s smiling and it’s red with blood. Her hair is red with Ruidus’ shine. Her skirts and lace is red with sand.

(Imogen knows it isn’t her because Laudna bleeds black. Bless her subconscious, for giving her the handy cue. Just a dream, not a dream.)

“Imogen?” she says her name like a question. Next part isn’t one: “Imogen, run.”

“No,” says Imogen.

(Well, that’s bein’ a little generous. A lot generous. She doesn’t say it, she isn’t sure the sound she makes could even qualify as words, but she thinks no and thoughts mean more than words because words are all lies and thoughts are all truths.)

“No,” she thinks/says/tries to invoke, grabbing Laudna’s wrist. It’s so cold and boney and pink in her hands. Pale white plus a little red,.pink like a pretty blush or rose petals or living flesh. Funny dream. She’d laugh. Ha-ha.

The wind picks up, dragging Laudna from her or her from Laudna or tearing the world apart. She holds strong, flings her other arm around to grasp her hand, too. Laudna, oh poor Laudna, she’s so slight and light and practically a rag in the gale.

“No,” she says, well and truly this time.

Imogen pulls, tries to draw Laudna towards her. Something creaks. That’s normal. Laudna creaks, she just does, an old attic of a body, an old attic of a skull with terrible secrets stashed within. Imogen knows all of them, and if she doesn’t she don’t mind it.

“Imogen,” Laudna says, faint. So normal, like they’re whispering before bed, whispering before dawn, whispering in eachother’s heads. “Let me go - you’re hurting me.”

Creak - something slips. Not Imogen, not her grip on Laudna, not the red’s grip on her. Laudna’s shoulder - it’s always the right one, so finicky, compared to the left, so unreliable. Of course it dislocates here. Laudna’s dress and legs and hair wave like a flag.

“No,” she screams. “You’re - you’re fucking comin’ with me, you hear? You hear, Laudna?”

If Laudna says something she doesn’t think it, because Imogen can’t hear any reply despite the moving red mouth, moving red teeth, unmoving red eyes.

“We’ll run together,” Imogen promises her. “Together, alright? You just hang on, Laud.”

The creak turns into a snap.

Dreams are fucked up. Laudna doesn’t flinch, her expression doesn’t change, the red doesn’t change as that wrist moves wrong and sharp.

“You’re hurting me,” Laudna hums. “You’re hurtin’ her,” she adds, in Pâté’s voice. He must have been swept away, already. Oh, fuck.

“We’ll run together,” Imogen repeats in a sob.

Dreams can be good, sometimes, because somehow she gets Laudna into her arms. They’re both red, red, red, moving through the red, red, red. Trying to. Not sure if they’re making any progress.

Imogen can feel her behind them. That sort of intuition nightmares offer, so kindly spelling out exactly what’s on your tail. But not, because so much chases her.

Her could be Otohan. Her could be Delilah. Her could be her mother. Her could be Ruidus.

She keeps walking - she’s red, everything is red, the red isn’t changing. She can’t outpace the storm. She knows, knows, knows it’s because of Laudna, red in her arms, the same red as her arms, the same red as her blood.

Somehow, somehow, some-fucking-how, the red - her - catches up. How it could get even more red she doesn’t know.

Imogen sobs, presses a red kiss to the red forehead. The tears dripping down are rubies, the spit in her mouth garnets, the sweat dusted with sand carnelians. “I’m not runnin’ without you,” Imogen promises.

So they get caught.

“I have you,” says Her (Otohan, Delilah, mother, Ruidus, her, Laudna, Laudna, her).

Imogen wakes up. Predawn purples and blues.

She looks left.

Laudna’s dead.

But Laudna’s also black and white. Not red.

She cries. Just to see, just to know, not because of anything. The tears are clear and worthless.

Imogen’s almost fucking grateful.

#critical role #critical role fanfiction #cr fanfic #imodna #southerngothic #imogen temult #cr imogen #cr laudna #c3 #airplane saga #whumptober #my writing

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crinkled-emotions · 11 months

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Hi G! Hope all is good😎

This isn't a request or anything like that, I just thought you might enjoy these Bradley thoughts and I've no else to share them with lol

So...I was thinking of this situation where it's Mav is actually the one injured (giving poor Rooster a break from the whump hahaha but only for a second😏) Anyway Mav is laid up completely, so Bradley takes it upon himself to do everything and anything for him. But Bradley is already a little fucked up in the head from the mission and definitely not getting enough sleep or taking care of himself properly.He has so much built up guilt for not being there for 15 years, that he ignores his own needs. So eventually even as he begins to crash he just keeps pushing to be there for Mav.

I dont why but I just love vulnerable Bradley makes🥺❤️

Anon, it's funny you say that! I don't know if you saw it, but there was a prompt list I posted and someone suggested something very similar a while ago. I got really attached to the story idea, so I *guess* I could share the first chapter!

CW: Maverick has to eject, Rooster is emotional, Maverick is... y'know. Injured.

13. "This is what happens when you don't sleep", 22. "You're sick. If you overexert yourself, you're gonna get sicker" and 29. "You have a fever, sweetheart. Of course I'm not going anywhere."

- "Eject, eject, eject!" Hangman yelled into the comms, watching Maverick gain altitude to safely eject. Glancing over his shoulder he could see Rooster and the way he was frantically glancing around, frowning. "Rooster, return to base. Search and rescue have been deployed." "Sir, I-" "-that's an order, Rooster." Cyclone was firm as he directed Rooster back to land. Hangman heaved a sigh of relief. "Daggers, prepare for return to base. Maverick is in good hands." The sound of Rooster gasping for air could be heard over the comms. It could only be him; only he would have such a reaction to Maverick going down, especially after the mission but also now that he knew exactly how his father had been killed. "Rooster, take a couple of deep breaths. You need to be clear headed to land and you need to land to see Mav. Listen to my voice, focus on what I'm saying," Bob coached automatically, Hangman frowning. He sounded like he'd done this before. Where Bob was usually meek and shy, he was now firm and authoritative. Hangman flew past Rooster again, trying to figure out if he was actually having a panic attack or if he'd just spooked himself. "I can't see, Phoenix what are your visuals?" He called out. "He's got his eyes straight ahead, flying but I can see he's struggling to breathe- Rooster! Hey, hey. Listen to Bob, it's okay. Mav's okay." Hangman tuned into Search and Rescue's comms, listening to them checking Maverick over. When he had confirmation they had him, he winced. "Rooster, get on the ground. Now. They're taking him to hospital."

- Rooster barrelled through the hospital, nudging past hospital staff and unsuspecting civilians. He stopped in front of Maverick's door, surprised to find Cyclone there. "Penny's on her way," he said. Hesitantly, he put a hand on Rooster's shoulder. "When you go in there, I need you to know it looks worse than it is, alright? You need to keep your shit together." "Sir-" "-he's been asking where you are, you better go. The others are on their way, I presume?" "Yes sir." Cyclone stepped to the side, allowing Rooster access to Maverick's room. As much as he'd agreed to keep his shit together, the second he opened the door he burst into tears. Maverick glanced up, broken leg slightly elevated in its cast, and he reached out for him. "Bradley, c'mere… it's okay." Rooster collapsed into the chair by his bedside and leaned over, hugging Maverick the best he could. Cyclone was right; it did look bad. Between the broken leg and the drain hanging out of his side, the bruises and cuts weren't his biggest concern. "Sorry," Rooster eventually whispered, wiping his eyes as he glanced up at Maverick, "are you okay?" "I'm pretty banged up, kid, and Penny might kick my ass for this, but I'll be alright." "She's on her way; I'll start planning your funeral," Rooster deadpanned. Maverick snorted, but winced at the drain in his side. "It's been nice knowing you, Roos. Hey, shhhhh, you need to stop crying. You'll make yourself sick. You’re burning up, kid, take a breath." Maverick shifted ever so slightly, reaching out with the hand closest to wipe his godson's tears. Rooster sniffed. "You're sure you're okay?" "Kid, in the wise words of Admiral Cain; despite my best efforts, I refuse to die-" "-Pete." Penny was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. She looked very unimpressed but also very concerned. She squeezed Rooster's shoulder as she rounded the bed, dropping a kiss on Maverick's forehead. "I thought we agreed; no more dumb stunts," she sighed. Maverick tried to shrug but the drain and his ribs stopped him. "It wasn't a dumb stunt, just so we're clear; it was an engine failure. No court martial, no questions; Cyclone said the mechanic who checked my jet this morning just got his marching orders." Rooster nodded, resting his head on the bed. Maverick's good hand moved to his hair and he grimaced, tugging slightly on the curls. "Maybe you should go and have a shower, Roos? Talk the Daggers off the ledge?" He suggested gently. Bradley glanced up at him, and then slowly nodded. "Only if you're sure you're going to be okay.” Maverick’s eyes softened and he squeezed Rooster’s hand. “If anything changes, Penny is right here. You’re only going to be gone a little while; not a lot can change in the time you’ll be gone.” “Mav,” Rooster whispered, already feeling the headache coming on from the stress. Maverick smiled at him. “I’m right here. Penny isn’t going anywhere, and Cyclone is right outside. The docs said I’m not in any grave danger.” “Bradley, I have your number, remember? Anything changes, one tap and you’re back here,” Penny soothed, that warm voice especially reserved for her daughter in full force. He blinked. “Okay. Okay, I can do this.” “You’re only going back to your place to shower and talk to the Daggers, you’ve done it a couple times- well. I hope you’ve done it a couple times.” Even beaten, battered and bruised, Maverick was still cracking jokes and soothing Bradley like it was no big deal. Finally, Bradley stood, his hands shaking. “Okay. Okay, I’m- I’m going. I have to… go.” “One foot in front of the other, remember?” Maverick said, trying not to wince in pain when he moved in a way that made the drain in his side tug against his skin.

- “Roo?” The Daggers were pacing around Maverick’s door, Payback the first one to notice Rooster when he finally came out of the room. He cleared his throat. “He’ll… he’ll be okay. He said I have to… shower. I gotta shower.” “Alright, come with me, I’ll take you back to your place.” Phoenix stepped forward, wrapping an arm around his waist. When he hesitated, she kept walking, eyes straight ahead which forced him to keep moving. Once they were gone, Hangman turned to the rest of the team. “He’s a fucking mess. Okay, we need a new plan. There’s no way in hell we’re going to be able to pry Rooster from Maverick’s side when he comes back.” Coyote cleared his throat, saluting Cyclone. “Do you know Captain Mitchell’s status?” “He’s got a broken leg, a concussion, some cracked ribs, and one of his lungs had fluid built up so they’re draining that now. Other than that, superficial scrapes and bruises. He’ll be out of hospital in a couple days. Penny is with him now.” Payback winced. “Sir… is he going to fly again?” “Knowing Maverick? Absolutely. It was a mechanical error; we already reviewed the maintenance and the person who checked the jet this morning is on leave until we can investigate further. Captain Mitchell is not in trouble.” Bob sighed, pushing off the wall. “I’m going to go and make sure Rooster doesn’t fall in the shower. Pretty sure Phoenix won’t stay in the bathroom with him.” “I wouldn’t either,” Hangman muttered.

- Once Rooster was gone, Penny had taken a seat by her partner’s bedside and squeezed his hand, leaning over to kiss his forehead. “No more dumb shit,” she whispered, sighing into his shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Maverick replied airily, good hand coming up to run down her back. When she released him, watching him lying in bed, she frowned. “Hey; other than the visible injuries, are you okay?” “I feel like shit; everything hurts, pretty sure I scared Bradley and it’s not the first time, and sometimes when I move my head, I get the vertigo of a concussion-“ He winced, his hand raising to hold his head. “I just- I feel- I think…” “Pete?” “I…” His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he went silent. Alarms began blaring. Both Penny and Jake leapt up, watching doctors flood the room. “He’s seizing!”

#Top Gun: Maverick #Top Gun Maverick #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw #Bradley Bradshaw #Callsign: Rooster #Pete Maverick Mitchell #Pete Mitchell #Callsign: Maverick #Maverick #whump #hurt/comfort #angst

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authoratlas · 1 year

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Flares

A short original work with some OCs. Whumpy fic about a pain flare. Partly because I've seen exactly one fic with a character who had costochondritis and I feel underrepresented.

First-person POV

Cw: pain, pain thoughts, mentions of past physical assault.

(Author's note: sorry to others who have costochondritis that don't like whump. Also, mentioned in the fic is "like the breaks that didn't heal quite right". This is a reference to character's backstory, but costochondritis affects the intercostal cartilage and is not supposed to directly involve bone.)

It hurt to move.

Sure, it usually did, but not quite so bad.

I knew the flare was coming; I'd gotten pretty good at spotting the triggers.

Stress was a big one. It was Spring Break of Senior Year. Graduation was coming up and then I'd start college. I didn't feel ready and neither did any of my friends.

Physical activity often played a role, and I had definitely done a lot of that by walking everywhere with the group. In my defense, it had been fun at the time.

Sleep was another factor; the more sleep I got, the less shitty I usually felt, but the nightmares had started up again. It wouldn't surprise me if the sleep-thrashing and fighting added to my pain as well.

Finally, of course, it's worth mentioning that Matt's Spring Break Parting Gift was a pretty solid punch to the chest. That's probably actually what did it.

Either way, I had known the flare was coming, but knowing was unhelpful; at best, I could take some Aleve and hope that it wouldn't last long. It was still morning, after all.

By noon, the Aleve either hadn't kicked in, or it had, but to little effect. I was still in bed, having taken my meds with one of the granola bars I keep in my room for days like that. I'd hoped getting up would be easy enough, since the group would be coming over tonight, but most movements were instant demotivators; even something like rolling onto my side, something that simple, scored about a 6.5, which was high enough to make me want to stay still and not move ever, ever again. The problem was that when I heard my phone chime, I completely forgot about that little detail, and rolled over to grab my phone. The thought of My People outweighed the threat of pain.

Pain that felt like fire, like the breaks that didn't heal quite right. I curled up, hoping it would make the pain stop. The movement only seemed to aggravate it. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to level out my breathing. Before long, the pain would fade, and it would suck less.

It took about a minute for me to be right; sure enough, the burn returned back to the dull ache that I knew would stick around for a while. I took the opportunity to grab my phone and read the message.

Nico: Shea, are you alright? You haven't said anything in the group chat yet today, and I know you're usually up by now.

Nico. I made Nico worry.

Shea: Yeah, I'm up, just distracted.

Nico: What's up? Is it because of yesterday?

Shea: You could say that. It's not entirely the case, but yeah.

Remember earlier, when I mentioned Matt's "Spring Break Parting Gift"? Well, that was yesterday. Matt is this guy from school that hates my guts over drama from 8th grade, of all things. The funny thing is that the thing he hates me for didn't even affect him, but rather a friend of his. He's just the one that hits the hardest.

Nico: What's going on, Shea? I mean, you trust me enough to fill me in, right?

Shea: Of course I do, but I don't want you to go do something stupid.

Nico: Of course not, silly, why would I do something stupid? I'm not going to walk over to Matt's house, which is just down the street anyway, and kick his ass on your behalf or anything.

Nico: Why would I do that?

Nico: Fuck him and his stupid-ass friends.

Nico: I'm going to kill him with my bare hands.

Shea: Nico, stop it. Matt has never been worth it. He didn't cause the flare anyway, I'm pretty sure.

Nico: You're in the middle of a flare right now?

In theory, of course, I shouldn't have said that. But I wasn't thinking when I sent the reply, and who knows what would come of that?

Shea: I am, but it's not from that

It was a lie, but it was one that could keep Nico out of trouble. In theory.

Nico: How do you know?

Nico: How could you possibly know that for sure?

Nico: Because as far as I recall, you weren't flaring yesterday, and he punched you, and today you're flaring. Sounds to me like he fucking caused it.

Shea: I just don't want you to do something stupid because of it. He's an idiot and he's not worth it. And you going over there and starting shit isn't going to make the rest of the school year easier for me.

Nico: He's not about to just fuck with my boyfriend and get away with it, and I'm tired of him thinking it's okay.

Shea: Okay, you're not friends with him anymore, so here's how that's gonna go:

Shea: Option 1 is you go over there and fight him and he kicks your ass.

Shea: Option 2 is you go over there and fight him and you kick his ass, and then next week, when school starts again, he beats me half to death in a broom closet and leaves me there.

Shea: So tell me again how worth it this is?

There was a knock at the front door; it couldn't have been Mom, because she, of course, had a key. Slowly, cautiously, I got up and walked to the living room and looked through the window next to the front door.

"Come on, dude, let me in."

I opened the door, closing and locking it again behind Nico. "Why...?"

"I had to do something, and you didn't want me at Matt's house, so..."

I sat on the couch, motioning for him to do the same. "Okay, fair I guess."

"Can I ask you a question?" He'd rushed it out almost immediately after I finished talking.

"Uh... Yeah? Anytime?"

"Did that actually happen to you?"

I frowned. "What?"

"The broom closet thing. Did that actually happen to you?"

A flash of memory came through, of falling backward onto a pile of brooms, breathless and bleeding. Of being sure no one would find me until I got myself up and out of there. "Not exactly?"

"It was too specific to be completely made up."

"It wasn't. It just wasn't Matt."

Nico made eye contact for a moment before having a staring contest with the living room rug. "Can you explain?"

It wasn't an order or a request so much as a genuine question, which was something I loved about him. He understood how hard some memories can be.

I nodded. "Yeah. Uh, it was back in 10th grade, and Matt and Ross were out of town."

"So it couldn't have been any of the main 3. Jesse was already expelled by that point."

"It was Patrick and Seth. They swore they needed to do something to 'keep me in line', whatever that means. I'd woken up to a pain flare, too, so I had stabs of pain from my left shoulderblade to about here," I said, gesturing to a part of my back. "It was, uh, the broom closet I got ice-bucketed with, too. Insult to injury, y'know? Patrick locked Seth and me inside and I had pretty much given up by then. How can you run when you're literally locked in there with the dude that wants to beat your ass?"

"Fucking cowa--..." He stopped himself halfway through the word, and it took me a moment to process why.

"No, I agree, they were cowards about it. You can say it, it's fine. I went non-speaking for part of the day after that. Almost had my mom take me to the hospital. Then she decided we were going anyway. It was... a lot of bruising and inflammation. Nothing else. But... I wouldn't put it past Matt to talk to them and do the same thing. And I also don't trust Matt not to, um..."

Not to actually kill me.

"Yeah, I know. I get why you want to leave it alone. But it's hard for me to just accept it. We both know I haven't been going through this with you nearly as long as Jamie or Oliver have."

"We graduate in about two months. Then I don't have to deal with them. And neither do you."

Nico didn't have to deal with the worst parts of them. Not the same way I did. But he had to deal with the aftermath, now, and he had to see me hurt because of them. If I was honest, I'd stopped caring about the pain around the same time my body decided to work against me, but it hurt to see my friends worry. It hurt to feel like my existence made theirs heavier. I knew the trauma would weigh on me long after I was out of school, but I had a good therapist and a great support system. Eventually, I could heal.

All I needed was to make it two more months.

#whump #beaten #costochondritis #ocs #wdid #shea luna #nico cardoso

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mlobsters · 1 month

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supernatural s15e6 golden time (w. meredith glynn)

again the big blowup between cas and dean in the recap, we gonna actually see him this time?

i was getting all dubious over the witch breaking in and tossing rowena's apartment so, glad they had whatever hex-y business kill her eventually :p

little mini aw moment that cas is going by clarence. rip meg

conflicted that they brought back eileen. really disliked how unceremoniously they killed her off to begin with (slash at all). this is the problem with this show, they rack up all these recurring characters and hey we can't keep them all around so we gotta clear the decks sometimes and the good ones get chopped along with the meh ones

and she was in hell? buh. ok.

(wiki)

Dean tells Eileen that she can't go to Heaven because she has been in Hell, mentioning how Kevin Tran recently found this out. Belphegor told Dean and Sam in 15.02 Raising Hell that souls that had been to Hell could not get into Heaven. When Sam and Dean pointed out that John Winchester and Bobby Singer had been in Hell and then went to Heaven, Belphegor concluded that it was because God had intervened due to liking the Winchesters back then.

no surprise here but calling this dumbass edgelord whump shit :p add some new random/cruel rules for no reason other than causing hurt and conflict now

SAM All right, look, if it's what Eileen wants, then... Maybe we can go to Rowena's place and look for a crystal, or something. I've been meaning to go there anyways after, uh... You know. DEAN Great. Do that. SAM Wait, wait. You're not coming with? DEAN It's a milk run. SAM You're... You know what, Dean, ever since God got back, you've been acting like there's nothing we can do, like nothing matters, but we can do this. Man, this matters. DEAN And that's why you're gonna kick it in the ass.

so dean's depressed and being an ass again, just slightly friendlier version i guess

ha, jennifer spence again! i recognized her from a very small part in the killing when she was in 7x14. cas is gonna work a case, i guess

ah, so also another reason to have dean bail on the trip, so sam and eileen can have some alone time

SAM Yeah. I've been there, too... uh, Hell. A long time ago. You try and forget, but it gets inside you. Talking helps. EILEEN I can't. Not yet.

a) so who did/does sam talk to hell about? b) can't help but think that not yet - when, because sounds like she doesn't have much time

so i guess really no other hunters working in the bunker anymore. which i mean, preferable. but :p

CASTIEL Hello? DEAN Cas. Sam's been trying to call you. CASTIEL I know. DEAN Did you check his messages? CASTIEL Nope. DEAN Right. Smart. Why would you? Look, I don't know if you care or not, but, uh... God... Chuck... is back on the board, so watch yourself. And check your damn messages.

10/10 for castiel grumpiness

very cute

ok, so bringing eileen back via spell making her flesh that rowena was working on. sure why not

and sam got hexxed too

ha, and keegan conner tracy who was a recurring character on the magicians who also has been on the show before (2x07 and 4x18), and as a witch -- and! jodelle ferland who i knew from dark matter and twilight eclipse was in 1x19

they seem to be bringing back a lot of actors who were in small parts in prior episodes, but usually i don't notice because i didn't know them from elsewhere. just funny that there's 3 actors this episode that i did a hey i know you post on

EMILY I yelled at her, and she turned my tongue into a snake. I still have the scars where it bit me.

lol what even. since the super special spell is like, special because it works without a body why does this other witch even need it. got a body, just rehousing the soul, no? whateverrr

here i was thinking cool, a jay gruska episode and i haven't complained about the music once! but i think mostly because it's been standard music that i don't particularly like but i know is part of the standard repertoire. but alas, this dumbass showdown of witches/ghosts/hunters in the hallway came with some dumbass music :p

MELLY But now you're leaving. CASTIEL Yeah. If I stay, nothing changes. It's time for me to get back in the game.

cas learned his little it feels good to be helping people lesson so he can go make up with the guys?

very fancy bath situation they got there

well all right then

SAM She, uh... She's asleep. She had a big day. DEAN Well, so did you. Hex bags. New body. So, what, are you some kind of witch now? SAM Nah, I got lucky. DEAN Yeah. I just wish we knew about that spell for Mom. You did good today, man. I did jack. SAM You killed a witch, saved my ass. DEAN Yeah, I guess so.

that spell was way less dramatic than the one rowena did in the field trying to bring back mary. listen dean, if you don't wanna feel bad about not helping enough, then help more :p

SAM You know what, I've been thinking about something you said, about how we don't make the rules, and you're right. We don't. We never have. But that doesn't mean we can just give up. DEAN Oh, come on, man. SAM We have moves to make here, Dean. We do. I mean, you think Chuck wanted me to shoot him? Of course not. DEAN You sure about that? Maybe that was part of the plan, you know? That's the thing, man. I don't know what's God and what isn't, and it's driving me crazy. SAM All I'm saying is we'll find a way to beat him. We will. I don't know how yet, but we will 'cause we're the guys who break the rules. But I can't do it without you. I can't. Just like I couldn't do it today without you. I need my brother.

his disillusionment with feeling like no matter what they do, it's rigged is definitely understandable. but there's no resisting when sam saying he needs him

curious where they're gonna go with eileen, since they set that up as a little bit of a beginning love interest thing with sam before axing her before

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 15x06 #meredith glynn #spnhiky

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brutal-nemesis · 3 years

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Spiral Day 2021: Cycle(-stys) of Yikes

Waddup y’all out how’s spinning out going? Good, good, love to hear it. Hey does anyone want to watch me break Castys? It’ll be funny I swear ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ In reality it’s INCREDIBLY messed up so please heed the warnings shit gets dark But uh yeah for context this is when he’s stuck in the lab ✨

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: lab whump, dehumanization, muzzle, organ harvesting and noncon surgery referenced, the boy goes nuts, starvation, dehydration, implied self-harm, implied autocannibalism

Castys thought endless torment would be a little more exciting.

Not that he’d expected it to be fun, but it was just...boring. Every damn day was the same. They’d drag him out of his cell to the same room, strap him to the same table, cut him open with the same knives and take out the same organs. Well, no, the organs they took varied by the day. But he only had so many different ones, so at some point he’d experienced it all before. The tests had a horrifically wide variety to them, but the common theme seemed to be Painful and Terrible and 0/10 Would Not Recommend.

He’d fantasize about being back on his ship often to distract himself from everything. He’d imagine the sound of the waves, the feel of the spray in the wind, the smell of salt, his crew by his side...the thought of them made him happy and sad at the same time. He missed them all so much (except for Harris, he was a bitch), but the fact that he was here meant they were all safe and happy. Yeah, that was why he was stuck in this stupid place, those darned mortals and their tiny lifespans that he just had to get all sympathetic about and give himself up to these psychos so they didn’t spend the rest of their little lives in misery. Instead, he was going to spend the rest of his much longer life stuck in-no, he was going to get out...somehow.

But how? He didn’t have anything to pick the locks with. He was constantly restrained, either strapped to a table or chair in the lab or being manhandled from one room to the next by people who were ridiculously stronger than him. He’d tried to rush past the guards when they came to get him from his cell, but they’d caught him and chained his ankles together, making it nearly impossible for him to even walk. The short chain connecting his ankles and the muzzle they’d strapped to his face a couple weeks in were never taken off, just permanent additions to what it was like to be Castys. And if they took the muzzle off, it was just so they could mess with his mouth, and it went right back on afterwards, because why give food and water to someone who can’t stay dead?

So it went. Castys started to forget what it was like to walk normally, to speak with other people, what it felt like to eat, to be touched in a way that didn’t hurt, to be treated like a person. There was only the cycle of wake up, get dragged out, get sliced open, get poked and prodded and stabbed and studied, get dragged back, fall asleep and pray that tomorrow would be a little better, or even a little different. He could vaguely keep track of time by how blood-crusted his skin was, a way to tell how long it had been since the last time they’d hosed him down and chopped off his hair. The ship he dreamed of never went anywhere anymore, it was stuck, like him, because there was only here, wasn’t there? Everything else was just a delusion. The boy had always been in a cage, the ship had always been in a bottle. The square of the sky he could see out the window was there to trick him into thinking there was something else out there, but he knew there wasn’t. There was only here, and there was only the cycle.

The cycle, though, began to change, so slowly as to almost be imperceptible from one day to the next. Tests were a little shorter. Less organs were taken. They left him alone for a minute more. He hardly noticed it was happening until one day...they didn’t come for him at all. At first he was alright with it, he preferred the loneliness and the quiet to the table and the pain. But not dying at their hands every day meant the condition of his body wasn’t being reset constantly. Soon enough, hunger and thirst began to claw at him. Even if he had something to eat or drink, that muzzle was still stuck to his face, no matter how much he fiddled with it. Or maybe that was just a part of him, maybe he didn’t have a mouth, and this was just his face.

Every three days. Thirst. Weakness. Dizziness. Death. Was it three days? Is that how long you could last without water? He tried to count, but the numbers got lost in the haze all too easily. There was no way to mark the stone, to keep track outside of his head, the blood wasn’t being washed off him anymore. He had nothing, nothing at all, just here and himself and the unyielding stone. The square of sunlight would move across the cell, the only motion to break the constancy of everything else. It was the same day repeated over and over and over and over and over and it was the same just the same nothing ever changed, ever, ever, it was the same-

Something wasn’t the same. The leather muzzle that had kept him silent for so long had been slowly rotting, and it finally fell off. For a moment he simply stared at it lying there on the ground, broken, dying, fading away. He opened his mouth for the first time in decades. And he screamed, because that thing got to rot away and disappear and he wouldn’t, he would always be here, hungry and thirsty and alone and trapped and alive and it wasn’t fair, not at all, and he screamed because it had been so long since he was able, he cried because it was all he could do.

The tears, at least, moistened his dry tongue.

He drew lines. Some were faint, and some were vivid. The vivid ones were good, they were brilliantly red, they tasted so sweet, they pulsed and burned like stars. He drew so, so many, and every one was new and different and brilliant. Little cracks in the never ending cycle of monotonous agony. They let him feel for a moment like his thirst was quenched. The cracks widened, chunks broke off the sides, and then that constant feeling of hunger went away, too.

And so it went, drawing and sucking and biting and chewing in an attempt to satiate those cravings, but it was never enough, never enough, and he would wake up to unbroken skin, and the cycle could start all over again. Maybe he could have counted somehow, how many times it happened, but it didn’t matter, there wasn’t an end to count down to, there was just wake up and hurt and drink and scream just to hear something and wait for death so we can start again just wait just wait it’s coming the ship is sinking in the little bottle but it always comes back up please just let me rest just let me go I can’t do this again I can’t I can’t-

There was a new sound. A creak. Footsteps. They came back, old memories of something outside the cycle. There was someone-or was it something-standing on the other side of the bars. Its eyes were so white and empty, a color he hadn’t seen in so long that he couldn’t help but stare. It stared back, eyes narrowing and then widening.

“Castys?” He cocked his head. That sound, that word, it meant something, right? It did, it did, he was sure it did, but...what was it? And what...who was that? The more he looked, the more he was sure that there was something familiar about that silhouette. It was...distinct. Unmistakable. Unique. He didn’t remember who it belonged to, just that he recognized it. It was a someone, yes, yes, not an it, not-an-it-or-I’ll-tear-your-throat-out. So when they opened the door to his cell, when they came in, when they smiled at him, fangs flashing in the dim light, he wasn’t afraid, even if he should have been.

“I finally found you.”

Castys Cult: @as-a-matter-of-whump @blackrosesandwhump @fanmanga1357-blog @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @hearse-song @muddy-swamp-bitch @whumpasaurus101

#i wrote something #spiral day #spiral day 2021 #castys #immortal whumpee #lab whump #dehumanization #referenced organ harvesting #implied self harm #implied autocannibalism #mystery ''rescuer'' will stay mystery because i said so #(its because im lazy and slow at writing)#me every five minutes while i was writing this ''this is fucked!!!''#it's a break from the usual whump but also funny. now it's just whump but i go ham #so like sorry if you were expecting the usual Extreme Sarcasm hours and also a piece that was less fuckin nuts #but it was fun :) i just love a broken little man #he snapped like a little twig!#he's stuck there for 243 years fyi #which would be enough to drive anyone crazy ya know?#this ended up being a more metaphorical spiral...what i originally wanted was power drill shenanigans #but i just couldnt think of anything so we ended up with this like. actual ''plot'' stuff #maybe i'll write when the capture him someday cuz he gives himself up and its very sexy #hopefully this isnt like too dark tho...who knows maybe it's not too bad for people since everything's kinda vague #next month we will return to your regularly scheduled sarcastic man #im always happy to write more in detail about his time in the lab too! this was just a very general overview #but obviously i've got lots of time to work with so hmu if you have any experiment requests!!

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itsmyartfam · 3 years

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Dadzawa fic rec list

So lately I’ve been reading a lot of Dadzawa fics so I thought I’d share them with you. I shortened down the summaries of some of the longer ones- I didn’t put them in my own words of course, but I just used the shortened snippets that authors sometimes put at the end of their own longer summaries. They’re in no particular order of greatness, and I tried to get a good blend of popular and less popular ones so here u go.

1) i. shaky hands- rexcorvidae

midoriya has chronic pain, and tries to hide it. aizawa deals with this, and learns something surprising along the way.

One-Shot. Honestly their whole whumptober collection is amazing I would totally read them all if you have the time, they’re pretty much all loaded with great Dadzawa content

2) Not all exits are made Equal- LunaLucrea

When a raid goes wrong, and Aizawa gets taken, he's hardly expecting to be found. He's a professional Underground Hero. He's seen situations like this play out before, and knows how the cards usually fall.

He's got people he'll miss of course, and he feels terrible about what this is going to do to Hizashi and Eri, but these are the types of risks he agreed to when he signed on the dotted line all those years ago. He's ready to accept his fate.

Too bad for him his former students are tenacious little shits.

Three chapters. I love seeing how Aizawa interacts with older Midoriya in the first chapter and how he thinks of all of his former students now that they’re pro heroes, he’s such a proud dad but he’s also so self-deprecating and he needs some love and class 1-A will force it on him. Wholesome, 10/10, but also warning for whump! on Aizawa’s part.

3) To the people we admire- The_ crownless_ queen

Eri learns about autographs, and how they're a way for fans to show they like their heroes. Naturally, she wants all of them — and especially Eraserhead's.

One-Shot. I don’t read many Eri fics but my god, this one is adorable. Eri learns about autographs and wants Aizawa’s but his students know that Aizawa doesn’t really give autographs so they devise a plan to get one out of him- basically by making him jealous of Eri getting autographs from every hero but him. It’s wholesome, Dadzawa is like ‘wtf Eri’, I love it.

4) Inhibitions- Thealmostrhetoricalquestion

Todoroki gets zapped by a Quirk that effectively lowers someone's inhibitions, and Aizawa deals with the strange, humorous, heart-breaking fallout.

The train ride back is something of a nightmare. Not because it goes badly, or because something awful happens, but because Aizawa can’t get rid of this feeling in his chest every time he sees Todoroki’s unusual, carefree smile. He looks like nothing has ever hurt him.

One-Shot. Lol, this one’s funny- Todoroki acts all loopy and carefree and Aizawa is frantically scrambling after him trying to make sure he doesn’t get himself into trouble, all while finding out more than he’d ever thought he’d learn about his student. Good shit, good comedy, good angst.

5) I consider myself lucky- alightintheshadows

For some of us, our teachers are the greatest role models we'll ever have.

One-Shot. Ugh, this is so sappy and kinda cheesy but I love it! Izuku gives his dads All Might and Aizawa gifts because he loves is grateful to them. WHOLESOME SHIT

6) Not in the Job Description- IidaRei98

A collection of drabbles revolving around the Dadazawa and Class 1A. Mostly fluff with some hurt/comfort - whatever pops into my head really!

Incomplete, 56/? Chapters. Solid collection of dadzawa drabbles. I didn’t finish reading them all because I get easily distracted away from long fics, but since it doesn’t follow a plot it’s easy to put down and pick back up when you wanna get your dadzawa fix.

7) passing through fire- achievingelysium

“What happened? A villain?”

“Ye- yeah,” Midoriya croaks. Shouta starts walking.

“I was there,” Shouta says, feeling through the words before he speaks, “but I don’t remember?”

Midoriya closes his eyes.

“No,” he agrees, “you wouldn’t. But- but you... were there. With... me.”

Aizawa finds himself in a street with little memory of how he got there. Then he discovers Midoriya, beaten and bruised, who claims Aizawa protected him—but as Aizawa regains pieces of his memory he realizes Midoriya may be lying, and he's the one who's done his own student harm.

One-Shot. OOH, OUCH, FUCKING LOVE THIS ONE! God I love the Dadzawa ANGST in this! I haven’t seen a dadzawa fic with a plot like this before, so I highly recommend checking this one out, especially if you like ANGST! Love it!

8) a penny for your thoughts- cassiopeia721

While visiting Eri at the hospital following her rescue from the Shie Hassaikai, Izuku and Aizawa-sensei both run into a nurse with a telepathy based quirk, and Izuku finds himself in a telepathic bond with his teacher. This is... somewhat worrying, considering how many secrets Izuku needs to keep.

Six chapters. Yet another Dadzawa fic with a unique concept that I have never come across before. Very good, much angst! My only complaint is I wish Izuku could’ve heard a bit more of Aizawa’s angsty thoughts, the whole thought-hearing did feel a bit one-sided at times, but overall it was a very good fic. The angst of Izuku struggling to keep his many secrets from Aizawa for a whole week was *chef’s kiss* Good dad-son bonding.

9) Geyser- spineless

Izuku faints during class when weeks of sleeping and eating poorly catch up with him. Aizawa, All Might, and his friends, remind him that no matter what he's going through, he doesn't have to do it alone.

Three Chapters. Good Dadzawa being all disapproving of his son Izuku pushing himself too hard and not taking care of himself like he can fucking talk lol. But also some angst cuz Izuku is a tormented boi who has been through too much and is Not OkayTM and his dads are there to help him.

10) The World on His Shoulders- baggytshirtsandtiredeyes

During their second year, Aizawa decides to take some of the students on patrol to give them a taste of the underground hero life. But of course, nothing goes as planned when UA's resident Problem Child is involved.

One-Shot. Izuku is a BAMF and Aizawa is like O.O. I can’t say anything more. This fic deserves more attention.

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Okie dokie, that’s enough for now. If you guys like my recommendations, maybe I’ll make another list in the future!

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postapocalyptic-cryptic-hold · 4 years

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Writing Tips: Concussions Edition

In keeping with my typical style, this post is not about the medical facts of concussions, as you can google those yourself pretty easily. Instead, it focuses on the more writing-oriented aspects of head injuries, as well as details that require some first hand knowledge to get right. I’m a hockey player, so in my day, I’ve both seen and had some nice bonks to the head to draw from. I’ll start with the hits themselves and then move into the immediate aftermath, and finish up by touching briefly on long-term effects.

The sounds of a concussion are surprisingly varied, and depend both on location and perspective. If you hit your head on something hard like concrete or a gym floor, you will hear a crack like something brittle breaking. You may not focus on the sound for very long (or possibly not notice it at all) but those around you will definitely hear the same gunshot-esque crack. On softer surfaces, like firm dirt and grass, the sound of your head hitting the ground will be more of a konk sound, both to you and those around you.

When you hit your head, it will probably bounce. If you’re not too out of it already, you will feel this and it is kind of funny. In my experience, you get maximum bounce from hitting grass or hitting a hard surface while wearing a helmet, and minimum bounce from direct skull-to-concrete action.

If you hit the ground shoulders or back first, the momentum from your fall will whip your head into the ground, making the impact to your head worse than the initial fall. You can also hurt your neck like this. This motion will be dramatic enough to be noticed by outside observers.

Hitting your head fairly lightly doesn’t usually hurt right away. There will probably be a moment of shock before a wave of pain comes, originating from the point of impact and sweeping through your head.

Light hits to the head (which I will now refer to as non-concussion hits) can still cause a significant amount of pain and disorientation. It may take a little while to accurately judge how hard you actually hit your head, as it is a sensitive region of the body. If the hit was a non-concussion hit, however, the original wave of pain will move through your head and fade away soon after.

Hard hits (concussion-causing) are a bit different. Those might start hurting right away, though not in a way that registers as pain to you. You might indeed see bright lights and blurry images, though they probably won’t seem like the cartoon kind. It’s more of a look like you’re still moving very fast, even though you’re still.

In that same disorienting time period, you probably won’t be able to tell what you’re doing or what kind of position you’re in. Your brain is scrambled and your body is in high-alert. For a good panic-inducing ten seconds or so, you will be living in a world of extreme pain, bright colors, blurry images, and confusion. The best way to describe it is that sensations register in their most simple forms. Someone yelling to you will simply register as sound. Nothing more specific. Just sound.

From the outside, this is a very distinctive look. Someone who has just hit their head will probably curl their arms around their head instinctively, balling up to protect themselves. They may seem completely panicked and unreachable for a little while, and they’ll need some time to process what happened.

Now, there is another level of head injuries: the ones that knock you out. If you get hit hard enough, you might just briefly black out. People around you probably won’t notice unless they know you well (example: I can tell right away when one of my teammates has passed out, but for another girl, I wouldn’t know), and it doesn’t seem like a big deal. If you manage to get up after this, it’s probably because you have no idea what’s happening. You won’t feel any pain. You won’t feel or think much at all for a little while, actually.

If someone is severely concussed (the brain injury kind) they might be in and out of consciousness for a while. They’re not totally out, but they might as well be. This is very dangerous, and you should call emergency services.

Now it’s time to get into the aftermath of a head injury. Not the medical treatment, but the much later stuff. Someone with a history of concussions is much more likely to get one again. That’s fairly common knowledge. What’s not is the fact that those same people may react differently to even light hits to the head. What may seem like a simple tap to you could cause them extreme pain for several minutes at a time. The more times you get hit, the longer it takes you to recover.

Now, let’s talk about writing experienced characters. In the same way a wrestler can tell their weight without a scale, someone who is used to head injuries can probably tell right away if their injury is severe. They know all the signs. They don’t need to wait for the bump.

Fight scenes and concussions make good combos, especially when you bring in experienced characters. A character who is focused on their own safety or some goal will probably spring right back up from a non-concussion hit or even a light concussion-causing hit. There will be a moment of disorientation, sure, but after that, their first instinct will be to run for safety. Get somewhere safe ASAP so you can assess the injury. This occurs almost unconsciously. When I hit my head in hockey, I’m at the bench almost before I know what’s happened.

However, you cannot “fight through” a major head injury. This is something I see a lot in fiction. No matter how badass you are, there comes a point where you just can’t get up, and even if you can, you’re useless. It’s not about pain tolerance or any kind of toughness, because concussions aren’t normal injuries. When you hit your head hard, your world goes away for a little while. You’re in pain, you’re confused, and you can’t really control your own body. There’s no getting up from that, at least not right away.

Hope you guys found this helpful! I’ll be back soon with more whump writing tips, turning my hockey playing into creativity.

#whump #concussions #whump trope #whump scenario #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #writing tips #author #creative writing #fiction #whump prompt #head injury #head injuries

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nikibogwater · 3 years

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Aight, loves, I’m only running on four hours of sleep here, but it’s time to Blether (bitterly)

Niki Blethers: Trollhunters: Rise of the Titans (SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT!)

Okay, um, how ‘bout we start with the good stuff first and then move into the Real Discussion.

Animation? Gorgeous. Even watching the movie on a janky iPad screen, I was blown away by the visuals.

Voice Acting: *chef’s kiss* I think this is easily Emile Hirsch’s best performance as Jim. And oh land, Colin O’Donoghue once again nails Douxie’s desperation, exhaustion, and sorrow. Give everybody an Oscar here, they deserve it.

Some of the emotional beats hit so hard. I can’t say all of them, unfortunately, but I was definitely in tears in a couple of places.

Dang, this movie did not screw around. It was extremely hard to watch the Arcane Order torturing Douxie and Nari, Nomura’s death, Jim breaking pretty much all of his ribs…I know whump fans are gonna have a good time with this.

Douxie body swapping with Nari was both viscerally uncomfortable and also made my heart bleed because oh my gosh Douxie you selfless king, c’mere and let me hold you, you brilliant boy. Also @sergeantsporks, how in the blue blazes did you predict that was coming.

Really great to see Barbara in the thick of things. I guess she and Strickler adopted out all the Darklands babies. I’m also so glad that Jim’s father wasn’t some important, mysterious person who left for a noble cause. The guy is just a deadbeat, and that’s all there is to it. It really helps build up the theme of Jim’s arc—that anyone, even the most unlikely people, can move past such challenges and be a hero.

The moments between Jim and his mom were wonderful. Very heartwarming.

DOUXIE BREAKING THROUGH BELLROC’S CONTROL OVER NARI WAS JUST 👌👌👌 LITERALLY EVERYTHING I WANTED FROM THAT SCENE.

MAGICAL SIBLINGS HUG AAAAAAHHHHHH!!! LOOK HOW RELIEVED HE IS, LOOK AT HOW MUCH HE LOVES HER, YA GIRL NIKI TOTALLY CALLED THEIR DYNAMIC!

Badass Nari with the Earth Titan lives in my brain rent-free now.

As much as I hated Nari’s death, I have to admit that Douxie’s response to it was appropriately heart-wrenching. The way he kept desperately calling her name, only to gasp it out once more when he realized she was gone—that was some good angst right there.

I still hate it, tho. 🙂

CHILDREN OF THE SUN, YEEEEEEAH!!! GET ‘EM, JIM!

Jim and Toby being both the beginning and the end for the series is so heartwarming. Honestly lost it over Toby’s death sequence and the way Jim was clinging to him and sobbing.

Okay, time to address the many elephants in the room:

M!Preg Steve should not have happened. Period. That wasn’t funny, that was disgusting, and honestly kind of insulting to the very real challenge of bearing children and giving birth. I’m sorry Dreamworks, but that is a hard no for me.

There were a handful of scenes where characters didn’t feel fully present, emotionally. Like, when the team realizes that Douxie is in the Order’s clutches….no one seems very worried? Like, guys, I know there’s a lot going on right now, but they literally killed him the last time he meddled in their affairs, why is nobody expressing any concern here? And when Douxie realizes he’s never going to see Archie again, he just kind of….shrugs it off? Bro, Archie is your Familiar, he practically raised you, and has been your one constant for nearly 1000 years, don’t you at least want to shed a tear or something? This isn’t anything major, but it was enough to break immersion for me in a few places. Just….why aren’t you guys emoting like you usually do?

I especially noticed this with Nari. She always seemed…really disconnected from everyone, which felt odd, because in Wizards, she very clearly cared about the others, and expressed genuine sorrow over Jim’s suffering and Merlin’s death. But here she seemed kind of….ditzy and out-of-it. Girl, why don’t you just tell Jim what to do. Use your words, I know you have them.

The ending. Oh. My. Gosh, that ending.

Let me make one thing clear here: I’m not averse to bittersweet endings. One of my favorite movies of all time is How to Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World. What I hate is the fact that this movie basically retconned the entire series.

These characters who we have loved and followed over the last few years, related to their struggles, took comfort from their triumphs—all of that is gone now, in terms of canon. Everything and everyone was reset, with the exception of Jim. That doesn’t feel bittersweet. That feels pointlessly cruel. And to make it even worse, it wasn’t reset in a way that would allow for everyone to live in much-deserved peace. The Order is still there, the trials and suffering of the series still have to be repeated—but hey, it’s fine, because at least Jim gets to live happily ever after!!!

I cannot fathom how in the blue blazes anyone thought this was an appropriate finale to this series. What was the point of all those adventures, all those relationships, all those struggles and triumphs, if you were just going to erase them at the end? It feels cynical, not bittersweet or conclusive.

This was….a very difficult morning for me. Most of you know that my passion and love for this series has been a huge driving force in my creative growth as an author and an artist. To have it turn so sour, so suddenly, right at the end of it all…I’m probably going to need some time to get over this.

That being said, I know the team behind the movie was under a lot of pressure. Tales of Arcadia is known for being innovative and breaking storytelling molds. I can understand their desire to take the ending in such a drastically different direction. But I don’t think it was the ending this series deserves.

However, I’m aware that this is all pretty subjective. If you loved the ending, please don’t let my take on it ruin that happiness. Just be aware that I will probably be ignoring this movie’s existence as I continue to create fan content. I love these characters too much to abandon the fandom altogether, don’t worry.

#tales of arcadia #toa #rise of the titans #rott spoilers

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spookyboywhump · 3 years

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Overheating

Alright so I really wanted to write smth with This so thank you @unicornscotty <3

I know it’s the fourth but I really wanted to participate in the @summer-of-whump event but I didn’t have the time until today so technically this is also for the day one prompt “overheating” (fun fact: originally I had a piece with Wren planned for this)

CW: pet whump, dehumanization, locked outside, emeto mention, drowning mention, heat exhaustion

***

He woke up when he was suddenly grabbed by the collar and dragged off his bed, roughly pushed to the floor. He was disoriented, squinting up at Cain from where he laid. His owner looked irritated, apparently still upset over the fight Zander lost the night before. He should’ve been expecting this, seeing as Cain hadn’t punished him immediately after getting home.

“Fucking hell… good morning to you too.” He muttered sarcastically, while Cain jabbed him in the side with the tip of his shoe, Zander wincing as he dug into one of the bruises.

“Get up.” He ordered, and Zander sighed, pushing himself up and getting to his feet. He was too exhausted, too sore to fight with him. He figured he may as well just accept his punishment and get it over with. “Hands behind your back.”

“Sure thing, officer.” He snickered, doing as he was told though, only for Cain to quickly cuff his wrists together. Zander followed him from the room, mentally preparing himself for a beating, a whipping, caning, drowning, anything like that, but instead, Cain led him out back.

Now that he was outside he realized it was early in the morning, around the time Cain usually left for work. He sighed heavily, realizing that it was going to be another day locked outside, but instead of dragging him out into the yard, he was made to kneel on part of the patio- specifically, the part that wasn’t covered. Cain had clearly already prepared this punishment, a chain locked around one of the nearest posts, which was grabbed and clipped to his collar. It was just long enough that he could lean forward, but he couldn’t have moved from that spot, even trying to move into the shade was impossible for him.

“You’ll spend today out here. If I’m in a better mood, I might let you in when I get home.” He said, and Zander jerked away when he tried to ruffle his hair. Cain started to head inside after that, pausing to add, “Oh, and by the way mutt- I’m working late today.” He said, Zander glaring when he flashed a smile at him before heading inside, the doors slamming shut and locking behind him.

Zander tried to tell himself this wasn’t that bad. He’d been left outside before, sometimes for days at a time, he could handle it. He wasn’t happy, but he could handle it, in fact, he considered it better than a beating. He was bored, of course, but by now he was used to boredom. He didn’t think it would be a problem at all, but as time passed and the day went on, he quickly realized that wasn’t the case.

It was the middle of summer, and while it wasn’t so bad early in the morning, the temperature continued to climb higher and higher. He was used to being tied in the yard, on the cool grass, with a chain long enough he could move into the shade of the trees. He was trapped here though, the sun beating down on him as he knelt on hot concrete. He regretted falling asleep wearing shorts, even if it would’ve been hotter at least pants would’ve provided some protection from the burning heat that had him constantly shifting uncomfortably.

He didn’t normally hate the heat very much. He was used to it, he used to enjoy being out on a sweltering day, but back then he’d usually end up at a friend’s pool or down at the lake, anything to cool off. He would’ve killed for even a drop of cold water, done anything to be submerged in it. His hair and his clothes stuck to his skin, sweat beading on his forehead, the back of his neck, he couldn’t even really wipe it away thanks to his hands being restrained. He winced as sweat stung open scratches from the night before, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a slow, deep breath.

He could handle discomfort. He was always uncomfortable. Hours went by and discomfort had given way to sickness though, somehow nauseous despite the fact he hadn’t even gotten to eat that day. He was doubled over as much as he could, trying to ignore the stomach pain and the sick feeling, but it was difficult when there was nothing else he could focus on.

“Fucking Cain.” He muttered to himself, attempting to talk himself through this. “Fuck him, fucking idiot. Can’t fucking believe this…” He winced, his stomach in knots at this point. “It’s fine… it’s just the sun… fuck, if I get a sunburn I’m gonna be pissed… I hope his stupid ass gets a sunburn, pale fucking vampire looking-“ He was forcibly cut off, dry heaving as the nausea got worse and worse.

By late in the afternoon he felt weak, even more exhausted than he had been that morning. His legs hurt, there was no position that was comfortable as the concrete burned his feet and legs. He hated to admit how much he cried, when he finally couldn’t take it any longer, but he couldn’t even cry for long, as though he were too dehydrated to manage even that. He kept his eyes shut as much as he could, his head was pounding and the bright sunlight wasn’t helping at all.

By the time the back doors opened again, Zander was blinking in and out of consciousness. It was sometime in the evening by then, but it was still warm out, too warm for Zander after enduring the whole day like that. He didn’t actually recognize that Cain was back until he was standing directly in front of him- something held in his hands too.

“Hey, you look like shit.” He snickered, and Zander couldn’t do much more than attempt to glare at him. He didn’t even want to know how he looked right now, likely drenched in sweat, red in his already bruised face. He was taking slow, deep breaths, he’d been fighting against the urge to vomit all day. He set down something in front of him, a bright red dog bowl, which was filled with water. “Go ahead boy, I’m sure you’re thirsty.” He told him, and it took Zander a moment to realize what he was saying.

Am I really this fucking desperate?

His mouth was so dry it was difficult for him to swallow. His throat hurt, he was hardly even capable of keeping himself awake right now, so exhausted and dizzy he couldn’t even really think straight. He hadn’t had anything to drink that day, and no matter the circumstances, this was water being offered right in front of him.

Fucking whatever, dignity be damned.

He abruptly lurched forward, desperate for it after all this time, only to gag as the chain stopped him, only inches from the water but just out of reach. He whined pathetically, he pulled against the chain despite the fact he couldn’t breath and it was showing no signs in breaking, but there was nothing he could do except sit there, and listen to Cain laugh- something that very, very quickly set him off.

“Fucking Bastard- really?!” He shouted. “Fuck you! Fucking let me go!” He growled, using all his energy just to yell at cain. “Stop fucking laughing, it’s not fucking funny!”

“No, it’s hilarious!” Cain laughed. “You’re such a desperate son of a bitch, huh? Would you really drink from a bowl like the dog you fucking are?”

“I would if you weren’t such an asshole! I don’t give a shit, just give me something!” He cried, just short of begging him. Cain was still laughing, but he nudged the bowl closer to him and Zander really did disregard any desire he’d had to avoid this, doing his best to drink from the bowl without his hands. The humiliation was absolutely nothing compared to the relief he felt, he’d never tasted anything better than that water tasted now. He drank as much as he could, as fast as he could to avoid having it taken away, but eventually Cain did take the bowl from him, then he unclipped the chain from his collar.

He tried to get up but he only just now realized how weak he was, collapsing almost immediately. Cain had to actually help him back into the house, his legs were trembling violently and he swore the room was moving side to side. Cain made a face since he was close enough to smell him after a day of sweating under the summer sun, if anything Zander counted that as some sort of victory on his end. He didn’t seem to realize anything was actually wrong with him though, he was dragged to his room and shoved to the floor, where he laid as he was locked into that cell again.

It took a long time for him to move. He couldn’t walk, he had to drag himself into the bathroom and turn on the shower to cold water, his hands shaking as he peeled his clothes off, sitting on the shower floor and breathing a sigh of relief as the cold water poured over him. He took deep, shuddering breaths, and he winced as the water hit the fresh burns on his legs, worse than he thought they would be. He wasn’t even sure if he had anything in his supplies meant for burns, but he figured he could work with what he had, he’d always done so before.

He didn’t expect to pass out in the shower. One moment he was tiredly looking at the back of his hand, at his bruised knuckles, and the next he was waking up slumped against the wall, cold and shivering now that he’d been in there long enough. He didn’t know how long that had actually been, but he finally was able to turn the water off and struggle to his feet, able to keep himself upright long enough to dry off and get dressed. He wanted to go pass out in his bed but just the thought of the mattress and the blanket made him feel hot, he wasn’t entirely thinking straight when he laid down on the bathroom floor, but he found he didn’t regret it one bit, finding relief in the cool tiles against his skin.

He wasn’t thinking entirely clearly, his thoughts still clouded with confusion, but he knew one thing for certain- With how angry he had been over his little “joke”, Cain was lucky Zander had been restrained.

#whump #my writing #my oc’s #zander #Cain #pet whump #dehumanization #heat exhaustion #summerofwhump #summerofwhump1

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sideblogformindtrash · 3 years

Text

Warning, Luca is a genderfluid character. I’ll be altering between them, he and she pronouns for them.

It’s also likely a one shot, I just felt like I needed a break from my usual pet whump stuff.

CW: tiny whumpee; defiant whumpee; animal attack; entomophobia/arachnophobia tw; classism; animal cruelty, arranged wedding; alternating pronouns;

Luca kicked at the sand on the floor of the cell, awfully annoyed. They felt like if she tried enough, he would be able to break the wooden walls of the cell. Of course, it was a futile attempt, but that didn’t stop them from trying.

Cursing at themselves, Luca fell on the floor. Why the fuck did they had the stupid little idea of fliring with the fucking prince, of all people?

And fuck, he lead her on, getting them both drinks, telling some funny little stories about his royal life, and even mentioning meeting again. It would’ve been great if the rumors didn’t travel so fast, reaching the ears of the king, who was not happy with having his precious little son flirting with a peasant.

God, the coward barely tried to defend him, mostly just muttering apologies. At least he had asked for a fair trial, instead of execution. And of course, of course, of course they couldn’t keep their mouth shut, saying if they were worthy, they should get the prince's hand in marriage.

She didn’t even want that stupid douche anymore.

And now, they were at the cardboard arena, waiting for their change at a glorious fight. The guards eventually appeared, taking him out of their cell, pushing them towards the arena.

“I’m walking, I’m walking, stop!” She complained, as his back was poked with the blades to make them walk faster.

...At the door, they were given a needle, holding it by the handle. It wasn’t the best weapon - good to stick, but not to cut - and he doubted anyone would care, either way. It was never supposed to be a fair fight.

Well… It was still way worse than they had expected. As they stood in the middle of the arena, sand burning at their feet, large statues - the humans called them toys? - surrounding the arena, people screaming and cheering from the cardboard benches… The big door opened. Not the one for a worthy opponent, no.

Her heart went to her throat, as his opponent entered the arena. Not another fighter, but an huge, eight legged beast, barely kept by it’s chains.

The king on his seat, stood up, and Luca visualized the prince too, face half hidden behind his hair.

“...May the fight begin!”

And as people cheered… The spider was released, it’s eight eyes taking only a second to meet Luca, chelipodes dripping poison as the animal was half-starved.

All of their bravery was gone within a second, as Luca ran away into the other side of the arena, trying to escape the attack of the beast. If he was caught… there was no way they could survive.

The huge paw of the spider fell by her side, barely missing them. Luca threw themselves on the sand, giving a roll, sending dust around them.

Shit. Think think think think. She beat the sides of his head, trying to force the thoughts out. It was hard, in this situation.

Again, the spider nearly caught him, closing it’s awful jaw inches away from their face, as Luca nearly didn’t escape. She fell on the floor, on her back, breathing heavily as the animal kept trying to catch him, running around the arena.

He ended up hiding behind a one of the statues, a heavy plastic object, as they prayed the spider didn't find them too. At least not before they could catch a breath, and think.

Meanwhile, the audience cheered, wanting to see them die. As if Luca would give them that pleasure.

In the other side of the arena, the spider knocked out one of the statues. That's when something occurred to them. Maybe if they could just…

Luca put the point of the needle under the pillar. Taking a deep breath… they screamed, getting the attention of the spider. As the monster run towards them… Luca tried to get the statue down.

It was… way heavier than they had hoped. And the thing was inching closer, it's awful paws lifting a cloud of dust.

As they grew more desperate, Luca gave up on the needle, resorting to slam their body against the toy, hoping it was enough.

The spider towered over them, Luca screamed, on one last desperate effort, the toy fucking fell.

She jumped back on the floor, as it crushed the spider, running for the needle. The audience screamed, now cheering for then, as they climbed up the toy and over the body of the beast.

They shoved the needle over the awful face, as the beast screamed and tapped it's let's, nearly drowning them in dust.

But finally, finally, it fell limp, as Luca stood up on the back of the monster, audience cheering and the king staring at them, both shocked and infuriated. Luca smiled.

#tiny whumpee #whump #whump writing #spider tw #spider cw #whump drabble

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 3 years

Text

Killabustas (S2, E9)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:00 - Are the birds flying past Malcolm’s apartment supposed to be an omen for the rest of the season? Or just some foreshadowing for the bird-heavy episode? .....I’m probably reading wayyy too much into this.

0:12 - Ugh. Someone give this sweet cinnamon roll a hug. He’s spiralling. He is so close to having a total mental breakdown and it breaks my heart. (but like, I also want to see it because emotional whump is my favourite).

0:23 - “How can I trust you? I know what you did.” This. This is what’s killing Malcolm. The fear that if Gil, Dani, JT, and Edrisa find out what he did for Ainsley they won’t trust him. He’s afraid they’ll abandon him. He’s afraid that they’ll hate him as much as he already hates himself. ISTG the moment they all find out (or tell Malcolm what they suspect) Malcolm will break. That will be the metaphorical straw that breaks the camel’s back.

0:34 - Anyone else think Malcolm looks completely adorable (yet super sad and scared) when he’s focusing on painting? <3

0:45 - “Why must everything you paint have an exit wound?” I love that this suggests that this isn’t the first mother-son painting session. <3 hahaha

0:47 - “It’s a pear.” It’s heartbreaking that Malcolm didn’t even realize that his pear was bleeding. C’mon Jessica, it’s time for an intervention. Malcolm is breaking in front of you. DO SOMETHING.

1:01 - NO. DAMN IT FEDAK. I wanted to see Malcolm’s reaction when Jessica told him she was writing a memoir. I wanted to see it so badly. I wanted to see him panic about the fact that she was inevitably going to disclose information about his childhood that he’d rather not have public.

1:09 - “How much worse you really are.” OOOOOOOOOOHHHH SHIT. I can’t believe he said that to his Mother’s face. hahahaha OMG. Malcolm is a little shit head and I love him. Well, at least I know he’s upset about the fact that she’s writing this book. His jab at Jessica proves that much.

1:42 - Is Malcolm playing matchmaker here? hahaha or is he just trying to get Jessica out of his loft ASAP?

1:53 - “Why didn’t they call me?!?” Can you hear the sound of my heart breaking? I understand why they didn’t call him in on this one BUT it’s not helping Malcolm’s mental health. On top of the fear that he is becoming his father, the stress of covering up a murder, the fear that his sister is going to become a serial killer, his childhood trauma, and usual mental health issues - Malcolm is afraid he’s going to be abandoned if the team finds out about Endicott. This is reinforcing those fears.

1:55 - “Where should I start?” At least Jessica can see how much pain Malcolm is in. I wish she’d do something constructive about it.

2:00 - “Forget to call someone?” Something about the way Malcolm waltzes into the frame and delivers that line is super endearing. He’s like a little kid running after his older siblings and their friends when they tried to go to the mall without him. <3

2:05 - Why the hell didn’t Gil just pull a 1x12 on Malcolm and insist Malcolm take a holiday? Hell - he could’ve gotten Jessica to enforce it. The fact that Gil is being super distant with Malcolm is not helping Malcolm’s very fragile mental health. GIL I’M DISAPPOINTED IN YOU (and I have been all season....) :(

2:12 - “Trauma’s my middle name.” Okay so 1) what is Malcolm’s middle name? If it’s Martin please tell me he changed it when he changed his last name. 2) At least we got a small papa!Gil moment this episode. <3

2:26 - “Fine.” This is Gil terrified. Remember what Gil said in 1x12? “He was losing it. I mean, I could see that. But I was afraid that I’d lose him.” That’s why Gil is letting Malcolm on this case. He knows Malcolm is losing it and he’s terrified of what Malcolm might do to himself with time on his hands. Gil doesn’t think Malcolm should be working but he knows it’s the only thing he can do to help Malcolm in the short term.

2:42 - hahahaha Gil’s taken-aback look when Malcolm starts not-so-subtly being a member of the Gillica fan club. hahaha <3

3:00 - Okay. I’m done. Edrisa can’t still think she and Malcolm might happen. I can’t handle this blantant one-sided worship anymore and I’m so glad it’s ending this episode (I hope).

3:07 - “and also, you’re bleeding.” <3 JT looking out for Bright. <3

3:12 - “Oh. I thought that this was your hobby?” <3 Dani teasing Bright. <3 I love that Dani, Edrisa, and JT are at least giving Malcolm some positive attention right now. It’s good for his fragile mental state. <3

3:40 - The directing is really good this episode. I’m not usually a person who notices that kind of thing but DAMN.

“It’s an expression of power and control.” “Sounds like someone with serious anger issues.” Yikes. Why do the ‘cases of the week’ always relate back to Malcolm’s current mental health crisis?!? Malcolm dismembered a body (for Ainsley but still). Now he’s profiling that the act of dismembering a body is an expression of power and control. That reinforces his fear that he’s becoming like Martin. Dani’s distaste and offhanded comment about anger issues won’t help Malcolm’s very real fear of abandonment. Hell, it’s compounding his fears that he’s like his father - the man obsessed with power and control who has a nasty temper when things don’t go his way.

4:09 - “Our killer derived pleasure from this.” Dani looks terrified when Malcolm says this. Is it just because she thinks this is a gross and scary murder scene? Or is it because she’s connecting the Malcolm+Endicott dots?

4:11 - “budding homicidal psychopath” is this supposed to be foreshadowing that Malcolm is becoming a psychopath? The writers have been suggesting that Malcolm enjoyed cutting up the body all season. .....and I don’t want the story to go that way. Please no.

4:15 - “I think I just became a vegetarian.” hahahaha JT is my hero. I love this dude and his dry but humorous comments.

4:26 - Once again - I can’t rewatch the Martin+Capshaw scenes. Once was more than enough. My basic thoughts on this particular scene? Capshaw and Martin are both gross. I think Martin is desperate for physical contact and Capshaw knows it. I think Capshaw is manipulating Martin (why is a mystery to me). I also think Martin is manipulating Capshaw so he can use her to help him escape.....I do however think Martin is a heterosexual male who is full of lust and physical desires. (which is really gross to me - a sex-repulsed asexual).

6:22 - I have a serious love-hate relationship with this scene. On one hand, Gil is clearly so so so concerned about Malcolm here and it warms my cold dead heart. On the other hand, the fact that he sends Dani to talk to Malcolm instead of just talking to Malcolm himself kind of pisses me off. Gil’s been really distant with Malcolm all season and it’s killing me. BUT I also kind of understand why Gil is passing off Malcolm to Dani (I don’t agree with it but I digress). All season the writers have been pushing the Brightwell relationship. We’ve seen a lot of really good meaningful conversations between Dani and Malcolm. At this point in time, it appears that Malcolm is willing to open up to Dani more than anyone else. Think about it. Even in season 1 - Malcolm never really opened up to Gil about his mental health. Gil knows that Malcolm won’t talk about his mental health with him - so he’s sending in the expert (Dani). I’m not happy about this but I kind of get it.

6:39 - OMG. Malcolm excitedly sliding into the room is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. <3

6:44 - “What are you guys talking about?” “You.” Exhibit A. If Malcolm had just responded with “what? why?” or Gil had followed up his statement with “we’re worried about you” we could’ve had a meaningful conversation about Malcolm’s mental health. Right. Here. BUT Malcolm knows why they’re talking about him. Malcolm is deflecting. He doesn’t want to talk about this with Gil. So he rolls his eyes and walks away. Gil shouldn’t have let Malcolm off the hook so easily. :(

7:36 - “There’s a special place in hell for people who hurt birds.” Ugh. I just want to hug this little cinnamon roll. <3

7:55 - “Where’d this murder board come from?” hahahaha I love how JT’s constant mood is “I work with crazy people”.

8:07 - “You’re a web sleuth.” I love that JT somehow manages to get across that he thinks Edrisa is a complete weirdo but he respects the hell out of her. Also - the fact that JT teases the people he loves is so cute to me.

8:31 - “Ouf.” This was funny but it also felt a little ooc? Like wouldn’t Gil just cross his arms and say “Edrisa” as a gentle but stern warning?

8:53 - Does Edrisa have no filter or do people really think about sex this often? As an asexual, I’m genuinely asking.

8:55 - I love how uncomfortable Gil and JT get every time Edrisa starts talking about sex and/or reproductive anatomy. hahaha

9:37 - Did Martin ever kill animals? As a teenager maybe?

9:47 - “They have all the control over this cages, seemingly inferior creature.” ....is this supposed to be a subtle reference to the Martin/Capshaw thing? Capshaw being the killer and Martin being the inferior animal she’s controlling?

10:15 - Nope. I’m out. Can’t do it. So gross.

11:00 - “It’s super gross.” Malcolm is all of us.

11:08 - Soooo is Martin fantasizing about killing Capshaw after they do sexy things (hopefully consensual ones)?

11:52 - “Oh I’m already crazy.” This is somehow adorable and completely heart shattering. Malcolm is hiding his pain behind humour but he genuinely believes that he’s crazy. :(

12:00 - Is this the only conversation Malcolm and Edrisa have ever had without Edrisa hero-worshiping Malcolm?......I like it?!?! These two are total weirdos and should definitely be besties.

13:14 - Damn. Edrisa is shining in this episode. <3 <3

13:33 - “No. You won’t” hahaha JT being the team big brother is so cute.

13:46 - “You coming?” Malcolm is so soft here. <3 <3

14:00 - I love everything about this scene. I love how Dani opens up to Bright - even though it’s clearly still painful for her to talk about. I love how attentive and caring Malcolm is. I love how in character they both are. Malcolm is trying to deflect his problems. I love how Malcolm is 100% aware that Dani doesn’t believe his “I’m fine” bs. Dani is trying to get him to open up by sharing some of her own demons with him. Dani looks upset and worried that Malcolm won’t open up - but not surprised.

15:00 - “I pulled a Bright.” hahahaha OMG. I love that Dani and Malcolm don’t question this expression at all. It suggests that the team has used the phrase “pulling a Bright” before and I am here for it.

15:27 - This is what I call ‘passively suicidal’. Yes, Malcolm jumps in front of that car because he thinks it will help him solve the case. Yes, it’s technically an action motivated by the will to live. HOWEVER, he doesn’t move out of the way when Dani tells him to. That car is driving slowly. He doesn’t move. Because he’s in a mental state where he doesn’t care if he lives or dies. He has moments when he cares about life (like solving a case) but those just aren’t enough anymore. Yes, he looks a little alarmed when the car approaches him - but I honestly doubt Malcolm is frozen in fear.

15:56 - “You had the right of way. He can’t sue.” Holy shit. First of all - I immediately think Ashton is a douche. Secondly - is this how America works?!?! In Canada we teach our drivers that the ‘pedestrian always has the right of way’.

16:11 - “My super close friends from online.” Honestly - I feel called out. This is how I must sound when mention my internet friends to my family.

16:25 - Sooooo we’re all in agreement right? The fact that Malcolm has hit the left side of his head without medical treatment this many times = 1) mental breakdown sometime before the end of the season or 2) a way to get him out of taking the fall for Endicott.

16:38 - *sigh* can someone please hug this man!?!? He just can’t catch a break. This whole conversation between Malcolm and hallucination!Martin is heartbreaking. It shows that on some level even Malcolm knows he’s going to break soon because his mental health is in tatters.

17:23 - “She’s not like the others.” Who are the ‘others’? Are these the other people that Malcolm’s had a romantic interest in? Are ‘others’ friends from Malcolm’s past? Or are the others Gil, Edrisa, and JT?

17:34 - Ugh. Floppy haired. Bruised. Sad. My whump heart is so full.

17:56 - Does Malcolm not go on the internet? He didn’t know what a sock puppet is? (granted, I’m 24 and I didn’t know either).

18:04 - The firefighter’s name is BLAZE (Blaise)?!? Are you kidding me?

18:24 - “No. No, it isn’t.” Damn. JT is worried about Malcolm. Just look at him.

18:51 - Do I think it’s weird that this dude is so openly flirting with Edrisa in the middle of a police questioning?!? HELL YES. Do I think it’s weird that Edrisa’s allowed in the questioning??!!? HELL YES. Am I glad they’re giving Edrisa a love interest who isn’t Malcolm? OH HELL YES. ....also Edrisa and Blaze are kind of cute? Like they’re both weirdos and they’re both into each other so ...?!!?

19:47 - Wow. This whole “Killabustas police interrogation” scene is painfully hard to rewatch. Like - the dialogue makes absolutely no logical sense but it had to be there for the plot? Everything is just too convenient. The pamphlets. The fact that these members were all so quick to meet IRL. The fact that these dudes were able to track Alex down so quickly....I mean....who is buying this nonsense?!?!

20:05 - Ugh my asexual ass can’t handle the amount of horny people in this episode.

20:18 - Anyone else think it’s strange that Gil referred to Malcolm as “Bright” to Jessica?!? I mean, Jessica is Malcolm’s mother. PLUS it feels like Gil is trying to emotionally distance himself from Malcolm?!?

20:24 - “Remind me to take Malcolm out of my will.” hahahahaha OMG. I love Jessica so much.

20:44 - These Jessica/Gil scenes were a highlight of the episode for me. They’re just so cute. I love how supportive Gil is. I love how Jessica isn’t repressing her feelings with booze during this episode. I love how open about her insecurities Jessica is with Gil. I love how happy they both look. <3 <3 <3 <3

21:24 - “Some still do.” YES!!!! YES!!!! Keep flirting Gil!!! Don’t give up on her!!! <3 <3

21:45 - Holy shit. How much does Edrisa get paid?!?! This is a rich person apartment. I’m shook.

23:05 - Again. I must fast forward through the nasty romantic manipulation that is the Capshaw+Martin scene. The sexual tension made me nauseous the first time. But I WILL say that I think the black guard in this scene - Mr. Benjamin will be the dude Martin maims next episode (from the previews) - not Mr. David. Either that or the black patient in the room.

25:25 - “Watch out. I bite.” ........I have no words. My asexual ass is shocked, disgusted, and .....kind of proud of Edrisa for going after what she wants (even if she’s super crass about it).

26:03 - “That’s a seriously twisted mind.” “Sure. The kind I get.” This whole scene is heartbreaking. I honestly can’t tell if Malcolm is projecting himself, Ainsley, or both of them onto the suspect. “He killed for attention” - sounds like Ainsley to me. “Alex was going to out him to the group” ......HOLY SHIT. Does this mean Ainsley’s going to try and kill Malcolm and/or Jessica because she think’s they’ll rat her out?!?!?! “It’s about preserving the group. The Vulture needs them.” - That sounds like Malcolm to me. Malcolm doesn’t want to tell the team about Ainsley because he needs them and he’s scared they’ll abandon him if they find out about Ainsley.

27:10 - I’m getting secondhand embarrassment from the west coast of Canada.

27:21 - “Our killer would never order take out.” Weak, Malcolm. Weak excuse.

27:40 - annnnnndd this scene was a hard skip for me. I can’t watch Martin and Capshaw prepare to do sexy things. Nope. ALTHOUGH, I will say: Capshaw’s story about how she ended up in Claremont is interesting. Whether it’s true or not is debatable but it definitely shows that Capshaw is manipulative and creepy like Martin. I have a very strong feeling that Capshaw is a psychopath, serial killer, or sociopath.

31:00 - Edrisa checking out Malcolm’s loft is everything I dreamed it would be. The fact that she’s clearly in awe of his weapons collection. The fact that she has no regard for his privacy and just starts going through his fridge and sleeping area. The fact that she so openly comments and judges the stuff in his loft (ie. restraints on the bed, lack of food in the fridge). It’s perfect.

31:27 - “This is the fridge of a very sad person.” LMAO. I love this line so so so much. I love how Edrisa seems to be realizing for the first time just how broken Malcolm is. I love how sheepish Malcolm looks when she unintentionally calls him out. I love how amused Dani is by the whole situation. <3 <3

32:00 - annnndddd the Killabustas have taken over Malcolm’s loft. They don’t ask for permission to set up his TV. They don’t awkwardly hang out near the door until Malcolm invites them to ‘make themselves at home’ or any of the other common pleasantries us North Americans go through when we visit the homes of acquaintances. They walk right in and claim ownership. It’s kind of beautiful?

32:13 -......so did they already have Malcolm’s wifi password or am I expected to believe that they either a) have a mobile hotspot, b) are using data, c) web-sleuthed their way into hacking his wifi, or d) Malcolm had his wifi password written down somewhere super obvious inside the house?!?! This is honestly the most unrealistic thing about this episode. It’s 2021. The first time you visit a friend’s house you ask for their wifi password. It’s what you do.

33:28 - Ok. I like the kiss on the cheek. Very respectful. She clearly would’ve been down for more but he’s a gentleman and I respect the hell out of it.

33:48 - “I’m sorry Blaze is so jacked.” hahaha OMG Edrisa - Malcolm’s not romantically interested in you. He never has been. Read the room woman!

36:11 - Ashton is Malcolm in this scene. “I’ve been a freak my whole life. I had nothing until that bird video. Suddenly, I was a part of something.” == “I’ve been a freak my whole life. I had nothing until I joined the team. Suddenly, I was a part of something.”

36:38 - “Ashton, it won’t work. Family will only go so far. Because once they know the truth - who they’re really after - they’ll give up on you. And no more family.” Ouch. This hurts. Malcolm genuinely believes that Gil, Dani, JT, and Edrisa are going to abandon him the second they find out what he did for Ainsley. Malcolm thinks they’re going to hate him. Malcolm thinks they’re going to think he’s like Martin - a criminal. A killer. Look at how broken Malcolm looks and sounds here. It’s not just that Malcolm thinks he’s going to be abandoned. It’s that he thinks he deserves to be abandoned. He thinks he’s a monster.

37:02 - EDRISA!!! DAMN. I love this badass. <3 <3 So proud of the girl who literally had a panic attack in 1x15 when she had to save a that ‘almost-victim’ by injecting alcohol into him.

38:05 - My heart is so full. This is honestly one of my top 10 moments of Prodigal Son to date. I love that we see Gil’s new car. I love that he’s working on his car in a police mechanic shop. I love this little glimpse into Gil’s personal life - the man who likes fixing up old cars with a cold beer while listening to 80s music in an boombox from the 80s. <3 I love the absolute adorableness that is Jessica and Gil awkwardly flirting.

I love that Jessica - the rich socialite - holds Gil’s wrench without question. Even though she looks a little confused. I love that Jessica comes to Gil this time. He’s been instigating the flirting most of this season. It looks like Jessica’s finally ready to be an equal partner in the relationship.

I love that Jessica - the rich socialite - takes a drink of Gil’s working-class beer with a smile. His social class isn’t beneath her. She doesn’t care about how rich he is - just about the purity of his intentions and the depth of his devotion to her family.

39:00 - “Oh I remember her. How fiercely she protected her kids.” I LOVE THIS. I love that Gil is attracted to Jessica’s devotion as a mother. I love that the fact that she had children with another man (a serial killer) doesn’t bother him. He loves how fierce, independent, and strong she is and that’s absolutely gorgeous.

I love who wholesome their romantic moment is. Unlike Edrisa and Martin’s live scenes - it’s not fast, heavy, and physical. It’s slow, gentle, and emotional. Gil and Jessica dance like an old married couple when the song they danced to at their wedding comes on the radio.

I love the setting of the scene. How they’re dancing in a dirty mechanic’s shop. Jessica is dressed like the rich woman she is and Gil is wearing a plaid shirt rolled up to his elbows. The contrast is striking and beautiful. I love that Jessica isn’t trying to make Gil fit into her social status. She’s not dragging him to rich people galas and forcing him to dress or act like someone he’s not (although he would so do that for her). She’s hanging out with Gil on his turf and she’s delighted about it. <3

40:08 - “Do you think you can ever really know someone?” Isn’t this what Malcolm said to Gil in 1x17 as the whole Endicott thing was boiling? You know - a few episodes before the team arrests Malcolm in his loft when he’s in the middle of a mental crisis?!? Is this foreshadowing for the next mental health breakdown?!? (Hopefully a fully mental health breakdown this time?!?!)

40:18 - “Masquarading as someone he wasn’t” Yikes. Malcolm truly believes he’s lying to the team just because he’s not acting like a monster. Malcolm has truly convinced himself that he is his father’s son.

40:45 - I don’t even care how you feel about Brightwell. The fact that Dani is the only person this whole season who has told Malcolm that he’s not a monster makes her the greatest friend he could ever ask for.

40:51 - “Ever since Nicholas died.” ....well Dani isn’t a moron so if she didn’t connect the dots before she will now. If we don’t get an intervention next episode I’m going to throw hands.

40:57 - Why. Does. Martin. Have. To. Ruin. Every. Chance. Malcolm. Gets. To. Begin. To. Heal?!?!

41:16 - “ooooohhhh here comes the kiss” .....honestly though. Martin is every Brightwell shipper.

41:20 - I respect the hell out of Malcolm for shutting Dani down like this. Yes - he absolutely should’ve come clean with her. HOWEVER, he clearly isn’t ready to share this burden and the fact that he shut down the progress of any romantic relationship is really good. Because Dani would be SO MAD if they started dating while he was actively lying to her. It would be the end of their friendship. Forget your Brightwell ship - they wouldn’t even be friends.

41:40 - “Why are you ruining this!?” Dani had to have heard this. Even if she didn’t....Malcolm was pretty obviously glancing over her shoulder at hallucination!Martin before she left. There’s no way Dani - a detective - won’t be able to figure out that Malcolm is hallucinating. I WANT A MENTAL HEALTH INTERVENTION. NEXT EPISODE. I’M MANIFESTING IT INTO EXISTANCE. EVEN THOUGH I DON’T TRUST FEDAK TO GIVE IT TO ME. I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO HUG MALCOLM.

42:06 - Honestly thought Capshaw was going to beat the crap out of Friar Pete here. This woman is unstable. Mark my words. She’s going to kill someone (if she hasn’t already).

I know I kind of shat on this episode a bit but I honestly really liked it? I loved the character development it gave us. Even if the plot was pretty subpar.

Thanks for hanging out. See you next week. <3 :)

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brutal-nemesis · 3 years

Text

Kneecap Day 2020: Suck It Castys

Happy Kneecap Day!! I’m using my immortal son Castys for this since he’s very easy to just plop into whatever scenario. And he can heal himself so there’s no need for me to hold back (✿◡‿◡)

Castys Masterlist

Ingredients: broken fucking kneecaps, mentions of suicide for convenience (immortal), lil bit of hand whump

“Where do you think you’re going?” Castys froze in his tracks at the sound of their voice, turning to face his captor with a smile.

“Oh, you know, just lookin’ at the… the door. The handmade carvings are just exquisite; is it mahogany? It’s really-aahhh okay, okay,” Castys tried to break the grip on his wrist, but it was no use. He let himself be led to what he had dubbed “the fun room” since everything that happened there was decidedly Not Fun. But he could still take it, he just needed to bide his time until another escape opportunity presented itself.

“Ever since I bought you, you’ve been nothing but trouble.” They shoved Castys into the chair, wasting no time tightening the leather straps around his wrists.

“That usually happens when you buy people. Might I suggest an alternative thing to purchase, like lar-” His retort was cut off by a harsh slap across the face. He just grinned, savoring the feeling of getting a rise out of them.

“How did you manage to kill yourself? It’s the only way you could have healed from all that so quickly.” The unfortunate thing about this person is they already knew Castys was immortal, in fact it’s why they bought him in the first place. Which was annoying since people who didn’t know were so much easier to escape from.

“Funny thing, it’s actually because SOMEONE didn’t bandage any of my wounds and I bled out. And also died of thirst. You know you could at least like, take basic care of me?” A hand twisted in his hair, jerking his head back.

“Liar,” they growled in his ear, “You were hardly bleeding when I left you, and I gave you water yesterday. So how did...what’s this now?” The other hand reached down into his shirt, pulling out the necklace that had been exposed when they’d yanked his head back.

“That’s nothing at all, just a fun little rock.” Castys struggled to keep his voice even as the pouch was pulled off his neck. “I think it’s neat so I wear it all the time, why don’t you try touching it? It’s very smooth and fun and not…” He trailed off as they looked inside, seeing the rock within. Castys was glad it looked ordinary, even though it was enchanted to instantly kill you if you touched it. He hoped they would so this could all be over, even if that would leave him trapped in this chair. He’d figure something out.

“Touch it? Yes,” they grabbed one of his fingers, pulling it back until it snapped, “why don’t you?” Castys barely had time to scream as they pressed the stone into his hand, careful not to touch it themselves, and the world instantly went black.

When Castys came back to life, his captor was standing over him, examining his now-healed finger. “That really does kill you. I think I’ll hang onto this.” They brandished the little bag before tucking it away in one of their pockets.

“I-I don’t know, that’s like, super dangerous for you to have isn’t it? One little touch and you’re dead. Like, poof, that’s it. Just let me hang onto it a-and I won’t use it I swear.” Castys had never been without the stone since he’d had it made, he needed it. It was the only way he could heal himself. Without it...escaping would be a whole lot harder.

“I think I can handle it. Besides,” they said as they picked up a hammer from the corner of the room, “I can’t have you healing yourself without my permission.”

“I wouldn’t need to heal myself if you didn’t keep hurting me. Speaking of which, what’cha gonna do with that hammer? We don’t need to resort to that, do we?” Castys squirmed as much as he could as his captor approached. They’d strapped his ankles to the chair too while he was dead, so he was completely helpless as he saw them take aim and swing.

Pain exploded in Castys’s knee, causing him to arch back, breathing sharply through clenched teeth. Oh lord this was a new one. He’d broken his legs before, sure, but never his kneecap, and it was so much worse. The bone was definitely shattered, radiating sharp pain through his entire leg. Far too soon, the hammer came down again. This time Castys couldn’t hold back a scream as the hammer crushed his other kneecap. “Hah-holy-hah-shit,” he huffed, “glad...glad I only...have two of those.” His captor didn’t seem to appreciate this remark, jabbing him in the knee with the hammer before setting it back down.

Castys was too consumed by the pain to do anything as they freed him from the chair and scooped him up in their arms. Every step they took jostled his ruined knees, and they definitely weren’t being gentle with him. He cried out as they unceremoniously dumped him on the floor of the room they kept him in. Hoping they’d just leave and lock the door, Castys was disappointed to feel metal cuffs clamp around his wrists, pulling his arms apart above his head.

“This seems a little excessive, don’t you think?” Castys tried his best to not let his agony show as they shifted his legs to secure manacles around his ankles.

“I have to make sure you can’t pick the locks again, little escape artist.”

“Well, here’s a power thought: even if I do pick them I can’t fucking walk, so I’m not going anywhere.” They simply patted him on the cheek.

“That’s what I thought when I left you last time.”

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