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whatlovelybones-if · 1 year

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DEMO RELEASE!!!

THE DAY IS FINALLY HERE!!! IT’S BEEN QUITE A RIDE Y’ALL, BUT WE’VE CONQUERED BURNOUTS AND OVERTHINKING TOGETHER TO ACTUALLY GET BACK ON TRACK WITH WRITING! I HAVE CHAPTER TWO ON THE WAY ALREADY AND IT’S GONNA BE LONGER THAN THE PROLOGUE AND CHAPTER ONE COMBINED SO LET’S GO!!!

⚠️ CONTENT WARNINGS: insinuation of child abuse ⚠️

create your friendly neighbourhood killer surgeon.

meet a characters that plays a huge role in the MCs life.

live through a childhood filled with sinister figure(s).

meet a new friend and lose them.

get a glimpse of what has shaped the surgeon’s past.

⚠️ CONTENT WARNINGS: murder, violence, gore & body horror ⚠️

a missing report. a murder. a youngblood cop. surely nothing can go wrong, right?

settle into your quite extraordinary life in helmsford.

WHAT IS THAT MELODYYYY?

deal with a pesky voice in your head.

meet vivienne, the kind psychiatrist, who wants nothing but to help you. it’s for you to decide how you feel about that.

what are you hiding, doctor?

what will you do when someone stumbles on the skeletons you hide in your closet, or should i say, basement.

kill.

A/N: a reminder that i have quite a lot of issues to fix in this update so i appreciate all the feedback i’ll get. they will all get fixed and major changes will be implemented with the update of chapter 2, including adding trans options, tattoo options and the touch-averse option.

fair warning that the graphic contents of this story will get worse, the prologue and chapter one were just the tip of the iceberg. if you get easily disturbed by these scenes, i’ll start implementing the auto-skip option from the next update to avoid the gruesome scenes.

acknowledgements: special thanks to fish (any pronouns) for helping me immensely with the coding aspect and @nikkefort (they/them) for providing a great design to all my imaginations. i have huge respect for coders cause i can’t do it properly even if my life depended on it. without these two superstars, this game would take years to complete so a huge shoutout to them!

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, LET’S GET TO WORK!

#what lovely bones #demo release #twine #interactive fiction #twine sugarcube #choice of games #hosted games #oh also #expect to meet the other ROs in chapter two hehe #tw: child abuse #tw: blood #tw: graphic depictions of violence #tw: gore #tw: body horror #tw: body mutilation

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acourtofladydeath · 4 months

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TTBW Chapter 1

Chapter 1 of TTBW has now been posted to AO3. Please make sure you read all tags with every chapter of this fic that is posted. I will be updating as I go. Read the beginning before the cut, and the entire chapter here!

Nyx shrieked joyfully in his uncle’s grasp as Cassian banked to the right. The wind caught both their wings, Nyx’s still so small and delicate as they flew. Cassian held his nephew tightly around the waist as he tried to get the mischievous four year old to get used to the feeling of the air as it rushed past the diaphanous structures still developing within his wings.

As they leveled out, Nyx’s wings went limp and he clapped his hands together, “Uncle Cassie again, again!” Cassian chuckled softly to himself as he looked out over the waters next to the River House where he held his flying lessons with Nyx.

“Okay little pyxie, but you’ve gotta hold your wings out for me! Big and strong, like we talked about.” Cassian could feel as Nyx held his breath and braced his wings out from his tiny body. Nyx’s wings were still so small they barely went past the breadth of Cassian’s shoulders. “Look I’m doing it!!” Nyx shouted back at him. As he peered over his little shoulder the young male’s violet eyes shined with excitement at his achievement. Cassian could barely hold back his own tears as pride rushed through his body. He choked back his emotion as he spoke encouragingly to his nephew.

“You’re doing it big guy!” Cassian made sure they were close enough to the shore that the rest of the family could see Nyx’s achievement before he prepared to bank again. “Alright Nyx, think you can hold them steady for this turn?”

“I’m a big boy! I can do it.” The determination in Nyx’s voice sent another burst of emotion through Cassian as prepared to bank. “Okay, on the count of three buddy. One… two… three!”

Cassian softly curved above the shore and Nyx’s wings stayed stretched wide through the entire turn. Nesta, Azriel, Rhysand, and Feyre all cheered from the shore as the pair flew by. Once they were out of the turn Cassian landed, he turned his nephew in his arms to face him.

“I did it! I did it!” Nyx shouted and raised his still plump little fists in the air in celebration.

Cassian held him in one arm as he also fist pumped the air in celebration and laughed along with his nephew. “You did such a good job Nyx!”

When Nyx had calmed slightly, Cassian knelt and placed the little male on the ground to stand before him. Nyx looked intently into his uncle’s eyes as Cassian placed one hand on his shoulder. “Now, remember what we talked about. Your wings are still growing. They’re not as strong as mine or your dad’s or Uncle Az’s yet.”

Nyx looked at his uncle intently as he spoke, but chimed in “or mommy’s right? She has wings too! But not all the time, like daddy. She can put them away. But I can’t.”

Cassian smiled at his nephew, the intuitive little bugger. “That’s right. Your mom and dad have different wings. But you and I can’t take our wings off and we can’t put them away. What does that mean Nyx?”

Nyx looked seriously back at Cassian, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “It means I have to be extra super careful not to hurt them. They’re my wings and no one else's and I only get one pair so I have to take care of them.”

“Yes, exactly bud, great job. What else do you have to remember about your wings?” Cassian smiled encouragingly at Nyx to continue.

The little male responded with sincerity, eyes and nose still scrunched tight. “That no one else can touch them unless they ask and I say it’s okay, and I should only say it’s okay if I know them extra super well like you or Uncle Azzie.”

Cassian nodded. “That’s right, little pyxie. You did a great job today, you know that?”

A huge grin spread across Nyx’s entire face at his uncle’s compliment. He responded eagerly as he excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet. “Does that mean I get to fly all by my own next time?”

Cassian chuckled as he responded. “Not so fast, big guy. Before our next lesson I want you to work on your wing flaps for me. We need to make sure your muscles are big and strong so they can support you without my help okay?”

Nyx looked down at his feet, a defeated look on his face leaving his bottom lip slightly wobbly. Cassian used his free hand to tilt his nephew’s gaze back up to meet his. “Hey, don’t get upset. You’re doing so well! Only a few more lessons okay? And then you and I can fly over the river together but separate, I promise.”

The young boy, so small and new to life, perked up a bit at that as he responded. “You’ll take me first right? Don’t tell my dad but your lessons are my favorite. I want to fly together but separate with you first.”

Those damn emotions hit Cassian again at his nephew’s words and he swallowed back more tears. “I promise Nyx, the first time you’re ready to fly without one of us holding you, I’ll be the one to take you.”

Nyx rushed forward and hugged his uncle, arms wrapped so tightly around Cassian’s neck he could barely breathe. But he’d never stop Nyx from embracing him like this, not in a million years. Once the tiny bat let go, he raced off to tell his mom and Auntie Ness all about how well he did in his flying lesson. Cassian stood and brushed off his knees as his brothers approached.

“Well, that went well,” Rhysand said as he stood next to his Cassian with a proud smile on his face.

“He’s doing so well, Rhys. I don’t know many younglings that can fly as strongly as he is at that age.” Cassian stared off after his nephew as he raced into Nesta’s arms. His mate scooped Nyx up into her grasp with ease and twirled him around as pride shone across her features.

Rhysand watched where Cassian’s gaze fell and joined his soft reverie as Feyre hugged her arms around Nesta, which left Nyx sandwiched between the sisters and showered in love. Azriel, ever the serious brother, cut into the soft moment.

“Cass, we wanted to talk to you about tomorrow.” Rhysand raised his eyebrows and looked over toward their brother, already masked in nervous shadows. “Way to really bury the lead Az,” before he looked toward Cassian, a look of sincerity on his face, “but he’s not wrong Cass.”

Cassian crossed his arms over his chest as he looked between his brothers, who both wore concerned expressions. “Alright, you two look like scouts with horrible information who don’t want to spill the news. Well, spill.”

Rhys straightened his posture while the shadows flurried more quickly around Azriel’s shoulders. It was the High Lord who spoke first. “I know you’ve been really looking forward to tomorrow and think it will make a big difference in your and Nesta’s plans in Illyria but-”

Azriel cut Rhys off stoney faced, “Cassian there have been serious death threats. Are you sure it’s really a good idea for you to let loose with these men when they’re the very same ones calling for your head on a spike?”

Cassian huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes. “You sound like Nesta. Look, Az, you have your mission in Autumn tomorrow, and Rhysand has Velaris to guard with Mor and Amren gone.” Cassian clapped a hand on each of his brother’s shoulders as he said with more confidence than he actually felt, “I’ve received more death threats than the three of us combined could count. Nothing’s gone wrong before, why would it now?”

His brothers looked obviously unconvinced by Cassian’s attempt at bravado. “Look, Devlon will be there. He’s been on our side since day one of this rebuild. Nesta, Emerie, and their Valkyrie unit won’t be far either. I know you’re concerned.” Cassian ran a hand through long curls as he spoke, his true anxiety on full display.

“I’m concerned too, but we are at a stalemate. My job is to fix Illyria, to make her something that all three of us can truly be proud of. A place we work with, not just order around when we need them.” Cassian met Azriel’s shadowed stare before he locked eyes with his High Lord’s piercing violet gaze as he said his last piece. “Let me do my job Rhys, let me help Illyria.”

Continue reading on AO3.

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achenetype · 26 days

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What would happend if Raven reader never left the nest?👁️ Love ur writing

THIS SPARKED SOMETHING IN ME OH MG GOD

MDNI; implied sex, hand wavey consent, abuse, raven-typical cult behavior and stockholm syndrome, riko is his own warning, injury/violence

listening to: sea, swallow me by cocteau twins

you can’t leave the nest, for a multitude of reasons. some of the other ravens still see their families; they go home for a weekend or for spring break every once in a while. they cite living close to the university, their parents being concerned or overprotective.

your family lives thousands of miles away and they hate you, so you stay at the nest. winter break, spring, summer. you know how edgar allan university looks baked in heat, drenched in rain, blanketed in snow.

riko moriyama and kevin day become your lifeline. he never leaves either. you spend more time together with them than you do with any of the other ravens, running perfect laps on castle evermore’s perfect court until all three of you are out of breath. you suck sparkling air into your lungs and laugh on the way back to your dorm, riko’s arms around your and kevin’s shoulders. perfect, perfect, perfect.

riko becomes captain and that perfection turns icelike and cold. he pushes everyone to their limits, especially himself. you and kevin push back. most of the other ravens are too scared to, but the three of you are perfect perfect perfect, the three of you are brilliant and nothing can stop you.

nothing can stop you until riko shatters kevin’s hand and you spend hours picking up the pieces.

nothing can stop you until riko shatters at the same time as your arm, when he does the same thing to you.

you spend weeks in recovery. riko sits at your bedside, murmuring apologies. murmuring we had to make it look believable, murmuring im so sorry.

your arm heals. clean break. clean hole where kevin used to be. clean, perfect number one, riko moriyama.

you still love him, which you’re not sure is a fact or a weapon. he is too tangled in you to separate what you are from what he is, and who hasn’t been cruel, in the nest? who hasn’t broken someone else to get ahead?

you have. riko has. this makes you a perfect match.

neil josten, newly rechristened nathaniel wesninski and number four, leaves as soon as he appears. some part of you resents him for it but a bigger part is, selfishly, grateful for riko’s attention to be back on you. you want your place by his side back—you want your life back.

you can’t leave the nest even when riko beats jean within an inch of his life. you can’t leave when that girl from the foxes appears and whisks him away, when riko breaks a window and punches a hole in the wall and screams about how his perfect court is falling apart.

everything is falling apart, you want to tell him. everything is falling apart and we can’t do a damn thing about it.

(instead you kiss his knuckles and help clean the glass off of the floor. instead you murmur distractions: how good his form was today, how pretty he looks with blood in his teeth, how you want him to shove you up against the court wall and take whatever he wants. you’d give it to him anyways. you’ve given it before, given everything else.)

(you fall asleep that night feeling hollow. riko’s arms around you and his head on your chest are no comfort. you want to hate yourself in a new, sick way, something that sways in your stomach and makes you want to puke or slash your wrists open like one of the freshman backliners did last week.)

(you want to hate yourself, but you can’t.)

and you can’t leave, either.

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decaying-diamond · 4 months

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I don’t deserve love. Not anymore. And yet when I have it, I cling to it like a parasite. I hurt everyone in my life. Please go away. Please don’t love me. I’ll hurt you. I’m like a bad dog. A bad, dead dog.

#traumacore #tw abuse #tw trauma #tw sa #tw #tw sui ideation #tw murder #tw death #tw graphic depiction of violence

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maybe-im-dark · 11 months

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Lullaby

It was one of those nights that Rocket knew would result in a nightmare. The Guardian tossed and turned uneasily. He had already tried everything to stay awake. He'd had five cups of coffee, disassembled and cleaned his entire arsenal of weapons, and even taken an ice-cold shower. The result: headaches, paws smelling of detergent and wet fur. But he was still dead tired.

Think of something nice! Think of something nice! His claws dug into his palms as he struggled to recall positive memories. A self-painted picture of Groot, when Peter gave him the Zune player, the raccoon babies. Yes, the raccoons! The feeling when their little snouts pressed against him. Lots of little feet on him as they walked over him and sniffed at him curiously. But none of that helped. Fight as hard as he could, Rocket felt his eyelids grow heavy. Until they closed and his mind slipped down into the darkness of the dream world.

Bright light blinded him. A huge sun hovered over him, but it was a wrong sun. Its light was not warm and golden, but cold and white. He wanted to put his arm protectively over his eyes, but something held him. A look down revealed large metallic rings encircling his wrists and ankles. On a slab beside him lay a stick with a twisted tip. A red crust stuck to the tip and a smell of iron filled his nostrils. He knew that smell. Blood. old blood. foreign blood. Who had been here before him?

"Paralyze it."

"But sire, doesn't it need an anesthetic too?"

"Just make it not move! It's an animal, it won't remember anything!"

Something appeared in his field of vision. Huge birds bending over him. They lacked feathers and their beaks were too short. Something stabbed his neck. Cold spread inside him and his body went numb.

There was a screeching sound and something entered his chest violently. Indescribable pain shot through him and he screamed. But the scream was only in his head because his mouth didn't move. He wanted to bite and thrash, but he couldn't feel his snout or paws. The scream grew louder, bouncing off the walls of his mind and reverberating in a never-ending echo.

HURTS! HURTS! HURTS! HURTS! HURTS!

Some time had passed. He couldn't say how much. The world had alternately consisted of light and dark. Now he was crouched in a room. One of the birds stood a little apart from him. His dark gaze was as piercing as a thousand needles.

"Up!"

He didn't want to get up. moving hurt.

"Up!"

When he didn't respond, the bird grabbed him brusquely and hauled him to his feet. He squeaked in protest. Standing up was unfamiliar and his muscles burned. He immediately got down on all fours again.

"Stand up! You’re supposed to stand up, 89P13!”

He tried to stir, but couldn't manage more than a tremor. A whoosh cut through the air and something heavy hit his calves hard. Fearfully he curled up, steeling himself for the next blow.

"Urgh, it just doesn't listen! Either it can't stand or it's too stupid! We'll probably have to do more surgery."

No! No, he didn't want the knives and saws again! He didn't want it to hurt again!

Rocket jerked into a sitting position. A scream reached his ears and it took him a moment to realize it was his own. Someone shook his shoulder.

"Hey, hey! Rocket, you had a nightmare!"

He spun around and stared at Drax. His small beady eyes were wide open, revealing the auburn irises.

"Drax? What are you doing here?” he finally choked out.

"I heard you screaming from outside and I went to see if you were alright," the Kylosian replied.

"I am alright! Now get lost!” Rocket hissed, teeth bared.

He didn't need pity or talks about not being alone.

Drax appeared unimpressed. "You dreamed about your past, didn't you?"

"Beat it, man!"

"How about you talk about it?"

Rocket let out a low growl. "How about you piss off?"

"Shall I sing you a lullaby?"

Rocket buried his face in his paws. "If you finally leave after that."

Drax was silent for a moment. "I used to sing this song to my daughter when she had a bad dream. She felt better immediately afterwards. Maybe it will help you too.”

Now the raccoon felt guilty. Drax was the only one who had never shared his story at length. Rocket may have lost his friends, but the own child and wife? That had to be rough.

He leaned back and sighed. "You can try."

Drax began to sing. His voice was low and raspy, but he wasn't as bad a singer as Rocket had feared. It was a language he couldn't understand even with his translator chip. Maybe a Kylosian dialect? The words, however, sounded beautifully melodious and soothing. With a yawn he drew his knees up to his chest and draped his tail around himself. Maybe he could actually get some restful sleep. The world grew calm and warm and the only sound was this beautiful song.

Drax smiled as he heard soft snores. He gently tucked Rocket in.

"Sleep well my friend."

#fanfiction #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #guardians of the galaxy 3 #rocket raccoon #gotg 3 #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #mcu #drax the destroyer #drax the dad #tw medical torture #tw graphic #tw graphic depictions of violence #tw animal abuse #read at your own risk #viewer discretion is advised

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cavalrysystem · 1 month

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How Janus got his scars.

Tw: abuse, graphic depictions of violence, unsympathetic!Virgil, blood and gore.

(Fic under the cut)

The argument had started off so small.

Janus had been telling Virgil he wanted Virgil to stop drinking, and to put the bottle of bourbon down.

"You fucking slut!" Virgil screamed, smashing the bottle against the wall. He stared at Janus, face flushed from drinking, vision blurry.

Janus flinched when the bottle shattered, and put his hands up, palms out, to show he meant no harm. "Virgil, my love, please- you've burned through three bottlessss alrea-"

"Shut up!" Virgil screamed, grabbing Janus by the hair and forcing him to come closer, a clump of Janus's hair falling after he slammed the broken end of the bottle into Janus's eye.

Janus stumbled back, hands touching his face. Cold blood began to pour from around his eye, and the side of his mouth. He breathing shakily and looked up at Virgil. "Virgil, I'm ssssorry! But you can't keep doing thissss!"

Virgil grabbed Janus by the neck.

"Virgil, ssstop!" Janus cried, as Virgil sliced open his human cheek with the end of the broken bottle.

"You don't fucking talk to me like that, you whore." Virgil threw Janus to the ground and kicked him. "Don't get blood on my fucking carpet." He spat on Janus, and walked off.

Laying there, hands pressed to the wounds on his face, Janus began crying. But only from his human eye. Snakes can't cry, after all. He slowly sits up, taking a shuddering breath and using his extra hands to push himself up. The young deceitful side felt his way to the bathroom, turned on the sink, and splashed his face with water.

Dark crimson blood stained the marble countertop and the steel inside of the sink. Janus placed his gloved hands, now stained with blood, on the counter and looked in the mirror, eyes still wide. He was met with the sight of blood pouring down his face, his hair ruined from Virgil pulling out a massive clump of it.

He felt frozen, staring at his reflection. His vision began to grow spotty, and he quickly finished cleaning the blood off his face. He searched the cabinets for a healing plant or potion or something- he found a bundle of the plant Remus had discovered in the imagination that would heal wounds. He untied the bundle and ate the plants quickly, slowly starting to calm down.

He checked his phone. Another apology text from Virgil. Janus wiped the tears off his cheeks and cleaned the sink and countertop.

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royai · 6 months

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nearly 30 books into the year and my favorites are:

1. big swiss by jen beagin

2. yerba buena by nina lacour

3. her body and other parties by carmen maria machado

4. daisy jones & the six by taylor jenkins reid

5. skyward by brandon sanderson

#text #i like all genres therefore my top 5 looks like this LOL #don’t read any of the top 3 if you think sex doesn’t need to be in stories or #writers shouldn’t write about trauma/sensitive topics etc etc #but anyway big swiss is now my favorite of the year by a large margin #tw for adultery suicidal ideation graphic depictions of suicide #and just general silly goofiness about trauma!#oh and abuse and misogyny #what a good book!!!!!!

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wisteriasymphony · 1 month

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sometimes i like to think i'm normal about ml fanfic and then i get ideas like "ok so what if adrien got retraumatized by a photoshoot and PUNCHED THE FUCK out of some random guy because of a PSYCHOTIC BREAK and then as punishment gabriel BROKE HIS FUCKING NOSE and there's also a flashback to gabriel abusing emilie and the trauma is about the way adrien's modeling 'career' has made him unable to see himself as more than just an object of sexual and parasocial desire and--"

#I really saw all the felix trauma and was like “damn why didn't they give adrien some of that” so I just took it lol #this Is all gonna be in... chapter 52? 53? still deciding #chapter 52 already has the graphic arson depiction so you fucking KNOW that shit's gonna be a ride #dark miraculous content #cw child abuse #cw abuse #I FUCKING LOVE ADRIEN BEING VIOLENT AS A TRAUMA RESPONSE #GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME GIMME #RAHHHHHHHHHHH #thewarmembraceofshadow #miraculous fanfic #mlb adrien #adrien agreste #miraculous adrien

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evilwriter-originals · 6 months

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@ailesswhumptober

Prompt: Electrocution

Rated: mature

Warnings: graphic depictions of violence, torture, parental abuse

Relationships: none

Word Count: 1,195

Summary: Dyon is ruthless in trying to get Girad to join him.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #whump #fantasy #original characters #original writing #writing #OCs #graphic depictions of violence #torture #blood #parental abuse #Girad #Dyon

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zelda-deep-wilds · 3 months

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Story Spotlight #2! "Caring For An Amnesiac Demon Sword Boy" by LifezVictory

Hello and welcome to Zelda Deep Wilds' Story Spotlight!

I'll be sharing works by talented writers I come across, fanfics that exemplify the hidden gems theme of my blog. Like this one!

Caring For An Amnesiac Demon Sword Boy on AO3 Or read it here on Fanfiction.Net Rated T

Summary: Very AU and crack. During their final battle, Link lands a critical hit on Ghirahim, causing him to lose all his memories, and actually become a nice person? And being the hero he is, Link can't just leave the demon to fend for himself… Platonic Ghiralink friendship, found family and possible QPR. OOC, obviously.

Shared with permission of the author, @lifezvictory.

This story makes me so happy.

Despite the humor tag, the serious parts are treated with the utmost respect. And the story itself is so sweet. Do yourself a favor and give it a try!

Also, do check out the two short works in the author's same series, (Queer)Platonic Ghiralink on AO3 and also posted separately on FF.N.

We all need more sweetness and well thought out stories in our lives, and this is one of my favorites. Yay for cuddly Ghirahim, respect for Fi, and a VERY interesting take on Hylia, Demise, Zelda, and Link!

And we definitely need more friendship, found family, and queerplatonic relationship fanfiction. This is a lovely example!

Traysi's Recommendation: 5 stars

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egopocalypse · 2 years

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Run Boy Run

Whumptober Day 2: Nowhere to Run, Cornered

Characters: c!Primeboys/discduo

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood, Threats, and c!Dream being a creepy, abusive motherfucker.

Word Count: 1.8k

Read on AO3

He can’t stop running.

His pursuer hunts him down like a snake chasing down a rat, slipping through the bare, leafless trees faster than he can flee. Snow crumples under his feet, soaking into his worn sneakers and down the cuff of his socks. No matter how fast he runs, the predator always follows. They won’t give up. They will never set him free.

“You don’t have to make this difficult, Tommy,” Dream calls from behind. “The sooner you give up, the sooner this ends for the both of us.”

“More like the sooner you fucking kill me,” Tommy shouts into the wind.

An enderpearl pops above his head, and he pivots, darting to the left to try to duck out of sight. Dream appears a few meters to his side and swipes at him, but Tommy skitters to a stop and takes off in the other direction, zig-zagging through the trees for better cover and yanking on low branches for extra leverage.

“Maybe if you gave in, I’d make it painless,” Dream says. A trident strikes the tree by Tommy’s head and rips out of the wood, spreading broken bark and wood chips into his face. “Or well, maybe not painless, but definitely not as bad as I could make it. I’d save those methods for later.”

Tommy rubs his watering eyes and ducks, releasing a shaky breath as a thin branch scrapes his scalp. He licks chapped lips, tasting the cold sweat and snot dripping from his runny nose.

Fuck. In his panic, he completely lost track of where he was running to. He has no idea where the hell Techno and Phil’s place is from here, and even if he did, there’s no chance Dream would let him run there again after Exile, and he couldn’t expect Techno and Phil to let him in anyway, not after they fucking broke Dream out of prison.

Did he really screw up that much that they wouldn’t just destroy his home, but they’d let Dream, his murderer, his—Dream, out of prison?

“Oh, Tommy,” Dream croons, “come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Tommy’s breath hitches, and he picks up his pace. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The snow’s falling far too slow to cover his tracks, especially with Dream already in hot pursuit. He has to find somewhere drier, where the grass will grip better to his thinning tread, and his own struggle to survive won’t lead directly to a death sentence.

A trident swirls above his head and stabs into the ground right behind him. If Tommy had been any slower, he would be dead.

“Found you.”

Tommy races behind a large, rotting tree trunk. An arrow whizzes past him, whistling through the air as it cuts past his ear. Tommy flinches, curling into himself as he struggles to get his fucking breathing under control.

“That was a warning shot, Tommy,” Dream says. “Next time, I won’t miss.”

Tommy can’t keep going for much longer. His skin stings. Branches and bushes whip his bare arms and legs and paint thin, bloody scratches across his body. His lungs burn from heaving the brisk, biting air. Lactic acid laps at his limbs as exhaustion sweeps over, wishing to drag him into the dirt and accept defeat.

He'll die if he runs; he'll die if he stands still. No matter how he does it, he has to survive. He has to try.

A branch rustles, and Tommy hightails it in the other direction, pushing his aching legs to keep going. Broken twigs snap under his feet, muffled by the soft crunch of snow, yet still loud enough to hear over his pounding heartbeat. He doesn't know where he's running to or who's safe, but fucking Prime, someone help him please—

As he breaks into a clearing, something sharp impales his shoulder.

His knees buckle, and as he collapses, he curses at top volume, startling the birds enough to send the flocks flying away. The wound throbs, pulsing down his arm and lower back. With his left hand, he grapples behind his back for the arrow, only to find a short, slender, wooden handle.

A throwing axe. Dream got him with a goddamn throwing axe.

"What the fuck?"

"You like it?" Dream steps into the clearing, flipping another throwing axe into the air. "I had them made just for you." He catches the axe and points it at Tommy's chest. "Next time you run off, I'm aiming for your spine."

Oh, fuck no. There's no fucking way Dream will ever get that close. Tommy would rather die on his own terms than let Dream kill him again.

Tommy scampers back, keeping the distance between them. “You stay the fuck away from me! They’ll see that you killed me, Dream! They’ll know!”

“They will, huh?” Dream says. “Who will? Techno? Tubbo? Sam? If they cared, they’d be here, wouldn’t they? But look! No one’s here to be your human shield, Tommy! And even if they were, none of them would stop me. Techno even helped me, and Sam? Sam killed Ranboo. He doesn’t care. If he cared, he would’ve stopped me from killing you in the prison.”

“If I’m alone, then who the fuck do you have, Dream?” Tommy says. “You have nobody! You didn’t when we locked you up, and you don’t have people now. Sapnap and them, they’ll kill you, or they’ll put you right back in the prison where you belong. You don’t—you can’t have power out here anymore.”

Dream closes the distance between them. “You want to know a secret, Tommy? I always had power. I made the waivers because I knew Sam would follow them. I made Ranboo steal the blueprints so Techno could get me out. He’s the reason why the prison went into lockdown in the first place! And Techno—I knew I would use Techno’s favor to break me out. Why do you think I saved it when I could’ve used it to destroy L’Manberg?”

Tommy freezes as Dream grabs his shirt collar and leans in close.

“I always had a plan, Tommy,” Dream continues, “and as long as people continue to listen to me, I always will.”

Tommy swallows and looks past Dream's shoulder, sneaking a glance at the treeline. Even if he did try to make a break for it, the warm, slick blood trickling down his back would stain the snow and make him even easier to hunt down. Plus, his arm's really starting to hurt like a bitch now, and he can't risk fucking up the nerves or some shit and making his sword arm fucking useless.

Rebellion might screw him over in the long run (oh, Prime, please don't let there be a long run), but it might be the only way to save his ass right now.

With herculean effort, Tommy raises his right hand and flips Dream off. "Fuck you!"

Dream merely laughs; the low tone shoots a bolt of terror through Tommy's heart.

“See, that’s why I get to have fun with you. You just don’t give up.”

Dream releases Tommy’s shirt, and he falls, jostling his wounded arm. A pained noise weasels its way out of his throat, and as he tries to scoot away, Dream pins Tommy’s ankle with his heel.

“Don’t leave,” Dream says. “I won, so I get something out of it, don’t I?”

Tommy splutters. “This—this isn’t some sort of game, Dream! You don’t win a prize for being fucking evil!”

Tommy’s stomach churns as Dream’s heel digs into his tendon. He wouldn’t break his ankle or something to keep him from running, right? Dream’s a sick bastard, but even he has to have some limits! No matter what, Dream will still need him to walk.

Dream flips the throwing axe again, drawing Tommy’s attention as he continues. “I could use the Axe of Peace; that could be fun. Battleaxes take a while to clean, though, and I want to wait until you’re at your new home to use it. I could fly you up with my trident and let you go, but it isn’t satisfying if I don’t actually get to watch you die, you know?”

He catches the throwing axe and pauses.

“Oh, I know.” He wipes the axe blade on his pants. “I could use a little more practice with these, don’t you think? You can be my dartboard.”

Fuck, maybe he doesn’t need him to walk.

“Now, Dream? Dream, think about what you’re doing,” Tommy says. “That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think it is, really,” Dream says. “I told you I was going to put you through hell, Tommy. Maybe after this, you’ll start to understand how you fucked me over.”

Despite his fear, Tommy’s face flickers with confusion. “But you said you always—”

Dream throws the second axe into Tommy’s other shoulder. The blade digs deeper into the flesh than the first and cuts off his thoughts as he lets out an ear-piercing scream. His upper body gives out, and he crumples to the ground, another shriek escaping as the first axe presses against bone, caught between his torso and the ten centimeters of snow giving to packed ground under his weight.

Dream kneels down and peels back the fresh wound with a gloved hand. Tommy kicks his legs out in between choked gasps, but nothing connects.

“Hmm, that’s better, but not exactly what I was aiming for.” Dream pulls out another axe. “Looks like I have to keep practicing.”

As the pain continues, not even adrenaline’s sharp clarity can drown out the fuzziness creeping in, slowing his thoughts to a sluggish stop. He can’t stop shivering, even when pain blooms with each tiny movement. The cold chills the metal blades, freezing the wounds they dig into. Blood soaks through Tommy’s clothes, draining the warmth from his body as it congeals and stains red.

At this rate, perhaps it would be better if Dream killed him. It’d be an end to the pain, and maybe revival would fix some of the damage Dream’s wrought. Maybe Tommy could find relief in the nothing.

Without warning, Dream slaps Tommy’s cheek, whipping his head to the side as the sting ripples across his frostbitten face. (When did he get there?)

“You aren’t even listening anymore, are you?” Dream says, though the words sound muffled despite him getting right in Tommy’s face. “Come on, Tommy, surely you can survive a little longer than that.”

He groans; it’s the most effort he’s able to make.

“Your screams made things difficult, so I guess we’ll have to cut this session short.” Another axe nestles in Dream’s hand; he pulls it back and aims. “I’ll bring you back soon, Tommy. In the meantime, say hi to Ghostbur for me.”

The blade drives into his throat, and with crisp, bittersweet relief, Tommy sinks into the void.

Taglist: @seaswalllow @fear-is-nameless @phantoids @thisisaname-whatahappyname @miishae @shriketrap @sleepypuffpastry @isa-ghost @a-humble-narcissus

#whumptober2022 #no.2 #nowhere to run #cornered #Dream SMP #dsmp #fic #major character death #graphic depictions of violence #abuse tw #blood tw #threats tw #c!primeboys #discduo #River's Writing #Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from my taglist for Whumptober!

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whumpty-dumpty-doo · 1 month

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#whump #whump community #poll #polls #deedoo original #I'm sure this has been discussed in the community but idk #I haven't found those discussions if they've been had before #I have a few things I wanna put on this blog (tagged so they can be blocked if people want)#but idk if that's like taboo?#I've seen some depictions of “irl whump” on blogs but it always tends to be artsy photography #that's good but like?? what about more amateur stuff #please no hate I literally am just curious #again #SAFE AND SANE #I'm not talking about graphic images of violence. There are things I can see in drawings but can't stomach irl #also no photos of abuse #though I did see an image of a scar from someone getting hit by lightning that was sick af that I wanna reblog

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iliketowatchmyblobrossuffer · 5 months

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Fuck it I’m posting my zal Whump. Zal got their brain Invaided by a party member who has the ability to see their memories, this memory was blocked before this point. It’s from 2nd person because of the nature of retrieving the memory.

Cw!

Blood, torture, child abuse, loss of a limb, medical torture. Forced amputation graphic depictions of violence, manipulation. mind the cws

You open your eyes and the world is painted in swatches of color. It reminds you of the impressionist style of various artists you’ve met over the years . You Try to look around but you soon realize your tied to the chair. You yell. Scream even. But your voice is scratchy and ash still burns your throat. Somewhere across the room a door opens. rats rush around your feet. You know this place you spent hours and hours here experimenting trying to impress…

Him.

You can’t make out his features. He’s like a blob of paint in the shape of a person. You scream and beg and he just sighs “such a disappointment… if you hadn’t run away…” there is a metallic click and suddenly your laying down. “Maybe I wouldn’t have to do this zal” he says. all you can muster is a sob in response. As he leans over you studying your arm you see it. Hanging there from his neck are two horns you recognize. Those are Jax’s horns. he…

He..

You feel sick.

Finally the man leans close enough for the paint to form a face you know this man

That is your father.

He doesn’t say anything as the knife digs into your shoulder he doesn’t even blink when you scream and scream until you can’t anymore blood soaking into your feathers.

“You know… I Found the Arm” he says finally , discarding the blood covered gloves reaching for another pair. “And I thought, I’d never find a subject to test it on” there’s a note of excitement in his voice “ but…then… well i found you” he looks at you. His voice fades again you can’t make out anything else as blood loss causes the darkness to wrap around your brain. The last thing you hear is the sound of your own bones being sawed away

#cw: gore #gore #cw torture #cw medical torture #there isn’t any sedation and that’s a problem.#cw child abuse.#child abuse #torture #medical torture #Whump #medical Whump #Whump for science #this period in Zals life actually lasted a few months #so if you have science/medical Whump ideas shoot me an ask I might use them haha #abusive father #graphic depictions of violence #I’ll answer any questions about zal here btw the person I don’t wanna spoil is blocked from this blog so dw #manipulative Whump cw

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bluejaysandblackbats · 2 months

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Space Oddity

Fandom: DC Comics, Titans (Fab Five)

Summary: Garth grew up in a carnival freakshow, and he never thought about the world outside the glass walls of the Aquarium until a group of kids befriended him. Their love and interest in finding his people might be the key to escaping the silent horrors of his home life at the carnival.

Chapters: 4/?

Characters: Garth of Shayeris, Donna Troy, Wally West, Dick Grayson, Roy Harper, Original Character(s)

Relationships: TBA

Additional Tags: Carnival AU, Developing Friendships, Rescue, 60's AU, 70's AU, No Capes AU, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Childhood Trauma, Lies, Escape, Childhood Memories, Team Bonding, Fish out of Water, Tiny Garth, Beaches, Angst with a Happy Ending, Found Family, Road Trip, First Person POV, POV Garth of Shayeris

Chapter Four: Fish People

When I was twelve, Donna started to visit nearly every day. She even came alone most of the time. Donna sat in the round alcove bench that Fisher built, sharing books with me when things were slow. I’d tap on the glass when I was done with a page, and she’d smile and turn the page. Sometimes, when it was busy, Donna would follow me around the Aquarium, dancing and making silly faces. I loved that she lived in town then. We kept each other company. Until she found someone more exciting. Or at least that’s what I thought at the time.

Donna brought him one day without warning, holding his hand and laughing. He was beautiful, and I thought it was jealousy at first, but it was something much more potent than that. He pressed his face against the glass, and Donna tapped his arm to chastise him for making faces at me. I swam into my cave and crossed my arms. Donna tapped the glass. She learned Morse code for me. “What’s the matter?” Donna asked.

“Him,” I replied, “He’s mean.”

I poked my head out of the cave to watch her expression. She held up a finger to tell me to wait and then turned to the other boy and waved her finger at him. He said something in reply to plead his case, and she crossed her arms and pointed at me before reaching into her bag and giving him a notepad and pencil. His expression softened, and he gently brushed her to the side. The boy approached the tank with a sad look on his face. He tapped the tank. “I’m Roy. What’s your name?” he wrote.

I wrote, “Fishy.”

“I mean, your real name,” Roy wrote in reply.

“Don’t have one,” I replied. Roy’s face was indescribably unique. He had freckles much darker and more pronounced than Wally’s. Then Roy’s eyes were soft, large, and expressive. Then his nose… Aquiline and painted with dark freckles twitched at me. And his brows wrinkled his smooth forehead as they pushed toward each other.

“That’s cruel,” Roy replied. He said something aloud, and Donna shrugged and said something. Roy turned to her and gestured toward me. I wondered what he said to Donna because she looked as upset as Roy was. Roy kissed her cheek and left us alone.

Donna climbed the ladder and dropped an apple into the tank for me. I left my cave and caught it. I ate while she took her place on the alcove bench. We read a few pages from Antigone. I tapped on the glass, asking where Roy went. “He wanted to give us some space,” Donna tapped.

“His face is nice,” I replied.

Donna smiled, but I could see in her knitted brows she was confused. “Approval? Or a question?” Donna asked.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I answered. Donna’s smile quieted from a grin to a simper.

I floated upside down while she read to me. Donna was beautiful to me… And at my age, I’d just started to realize that. She read with me until I fell asleep in the tank. When I awakened, she was gone, and Fisher pulled me out of the tank. It would’ve startled me had I not been half-awake. “You’ve been asleep all afternoon. What’s wrong with you? If it wasn’t so slow, I’d send you back to bed without supper,” Fisher complained.

“Do people-? Were you ever married, Fisher?” I asked.

“I was engaged once. She died,” Fisher replied as he dried me off. I didn’t ask anything else. I’d never seen death before, but I’d heard of omens. That felt like one.

Everyone poured into the Aquarium for dinner, and Eunice sat beside me. She seemed tired. She kissed my cheek and pushed me to drink my milk as always, but I felt something wrong. I drank my milk and laid my head on her lap. “Eunice,” I whispered, “Will you stay with me tonight?” Eunice ran her fingers through my hair.

“Of course, Fishy… What’s the matter?” Eunice asked. I suddenly felt a wave of terror and nausea wash over me. It was so intense that I broke into a fever-like sweat.

“Something’s hurting me,” I whispered, “And I’m scared…” Eunice frowned. I never got sick unless my tank needed to be cleaned or I’d been out of the water too long.

“Fisher, I think he should sleep in the pool tonight,” Eunice whispered, “I’ll keep an eye on him… Besides, I wanted to talk to him privately.”

Fisher filled the pool with water, and Eunice set up her cot. “Your friend brought someone with her today,” Eunice noted, “How did that make you feel?”

“Is she in love?” I asked.

“I think so, sweetheart,” Eunice replied.

Eunice held my hand as she led me to the pool. “What does it feel like?” I asked. She smiled.

“You’ll know when you feel it… Because your heartbeat feels strange in your chest, and you can’t stop thinking about them… You’re still young, but one day you’ll fall in love-.” She stopped speaking. “Oh, Fishy, I’m sorry.” I frowned. As far as I knew, there were no other fish people like me. I hesitated, squeezing her hand in mine.

“I think-. Can I-? Can you be in love with human people?” I asked.

“I think so, but it usually doesn’t end well,” Eunice replied, “Can I ask why you have a sudden interest in romance?”

“Because I felt different when I saw her with that boy today… I think I’m-. I like them both-.”

“Oh, sweetheart. I-. Fishy, you should never tell Fisher that you feel that way about the boy. Promise me,” Eunice whispered as she held me by my shoulders.

“Why? Did I do something bad?” I asked.

“No… People might think differently of you if they knew… It’s not fair, but the world has a tendency toward closemindedness. You’re not bad at all, Fishy. I love you so much, my darling… But the world can be cruel,” Eunice warned me, “Don’t let it get to you. I want you to continue to be loving and kind like you are.” She took a cup and poured water over my gills. It felt good to have new warm saltwater in my gills. Then, she lay beside me in her cot and went to sleep. She never woke up. And that’s when it started for me. My curiosity about fish people… And the ocean.

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decaying-diamond · 4 months

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I don’t know. I don’t know anything. I’m a stupid little slut. Fuck me, hurt me, kill me. I’m literally begging. Pull my hair, bite my neck, choke me, cut my back, break my bones, rip my eyes out, make me repulsive enough for no one to want to rape me again. It’s cute girls that go through that kind of awful things, right? So… I don’t want to be pretty. I want to become a monster that no one wants to get close to. I want people to be afraid of me.

Maybe when I’m dead it won’t hurt anymore. Maybe I won’t remember you when I’m just a pile of bones, eaten by worms.

#traumacore #tw abuse #tw trauma #tw sa #tw #tw sui ideation #tw murder #tw death #tw graphic depiction of violence

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ereri-lost-and-found · 2 years

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hello! first of all, i'm so thankful to this blog! it really helped me a lot finding good fics to read! kudos to everyone!

and i was wondering if you have recommendations for any fics with eren coming from outside the walls either as a titan or something else. preferably long chaptered fics.

thank you and have a great day!

Try these~

Breaking the Walls by Asnakecalledsocks

(Rated E, 5,818 words, multichapter, ongoing)

The boy woke with a start, throwing his body upwards into a sitting position as the final throws of sleep evaded him. His dreams were always the same, chopped up bits and pieces that seemed familiar, however he knew within a few minutes he would no longer remember the contents of the dream.

They were always the same.

Eren is a titan shifter living outside the walls, until one day the survey corps takes an interest in him.

(This is my first time writing so any and all constructive criticism is highly appreciated!)

I, Titan by Marie_Phantom

(Rated E, 23,349 words, multichapter, ongoing)

One single mistake, and the world changes on it’s axis.

Levi is left stranded outside the Walls when he is injured, and is rescued by an unusual Titan. This meeting changes not just their lives, but the entire fate of the Walls.

Part 1 of The Scent of Blood and Pine

A Titan's Poisoned Chalice by The_duke_is_back

(Rated M, 133,423 words, multichapter, complete, TW read tags on fic)

A Poisoned Chalice: noun, an assignment, award, or honour which is likely to prove a disadvantage or source of problems to the recipient.

Eren is a titan living outside the walls, living in complete isolation by avoiding other titans. When the Survey Corps comes and Levi is attacked by titans from left and right, he is saved by an aberrant titan. Eren’s curiosity has lead him down a path where he far out of his depth.

A story where Eren has only known his life as a titan and saves is taken into the walls and is expected to live as a human. How does a titan who knows next to nothing adjust to living a life behind the walls?

Written by CursedObjects, adopted by The_Duke_Is_Back.

Part 1 of Big Friendly Titan

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