Yeehaw we gettin tagged by @whump-me (tyyyy) and posting 7 snippets from our writing (or wips but i am a wipless bastard atm 🤪) and i have decided to do some Silly Castys Moments (and also some Erebus stuff ig 🙄)
Warning for some gore probably it’s Nemi writing so yk but I’ll try to keep the really bad stuff outta here (there also some armputation and guy going crazy and starving to death over and over you know the drill)
1. Local silly guy does in fact regret it very much
“I don’t really want you, per se, but a certain…friend of yours.” Castys stiffened, and he heard a faint laugh. “I think you know who I’m talking about.”
“I really don’t. I’ve got a lot of friends, you know, and-” something slammed into the metal above him, cutting him off.
“Don’t play dumb with me; you know exactly who I’m talking about, and you’d better tell me where I can find him or I’ll make you regret it.”
“Please, do your worst. I already regret so many damn things so I don’t think another one on the pile will do much to me, to be honest,” Castys mused, wiggling against his bonds slightly.
2. The worst fmk in existence gets you stabbed
“Hey, guys, fuck, marry, kill for rice, pasta, and bread, go. I think for me, I gotta say fuck bread, marry rice, kill pasta. Don’t get me wrong, I love some noodles, some noods, but, like, man. Have you ever just, like, had some bread? Insane. I would fuck bread. I don’t wanna fuck anything, but boy I would fuck the bread. And rice, man, she’s so dependable, she’s always there for you. What I would want in a spouse if I wanted anything in a spouse. This game wasn’t really designed for me, and yet, here I am. So, c’mon, what’s it from you two? You’ve gotta have-Hey, Danny boy, got an opinion you’d like to share?” Castys smiled up at the man now standing in front of him.
Daniel rolled his eyes before putting his asshole face back on. “Just do something useful for once and hold this for me, vermin,” he said with a smile, lifting Castys’s shirt and gently sliding the knife he was holding into his abdomen. Castys just sighed, way too used to being stabbed to really care much about this.
3. Ripping your arm off but it’s a Phineas and Ferb reference (this one is probably the most gory of all the snippets fyi but it’s not too bad)
Sensing his chance, Castys grabbed the manacled wrist of his shredded arm with his good hand, bit down on the gag, and pulled. He couldn’t give up, couldn’t stop, not after enduring this much, he could feel his flesh tearing, sending out sparks of agony unlike anything he’d ever known, and he had to keep pulling, pulling and jerking and tearing and twisting and praying, praying that he could rip it off before he drowned again, which, hey, kind of a weird thing to want, not that he hadn’t had to amputate his own limbs before, but weird that it was happening again, and honestly, this hurt way more than the other times, but wasn’t that always the case-and fuck there was no way he was going to be able to just snap his bones like this, and he needed it to be completely severed, and there was no time, wedge it against the rocks and pull pull pull until there was a snap and a burst of unholy agony, so intense it almost smothered the relief, so fierce it made him forget he was drowning up until the moment his oxygen-starved brain lost consciousness.
4. Lmaoooo bitches trapped in a cell for like 200 years
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.
5. Erebus’s iconic sit down protest ✨ (it does not accomplish anything in the end)
“You are coming with me. As of today you are my property, so you will do as I say. Resistance will only make things more difficult for you. So you will walk, or you will be dragged. Your choice.” Erebus initially felt a bolt of fear shoot through him, but looking down at her scrawny frame, he realized that she likely couldn’t carry out her threat.
Dragged? He’d like to see her try.
Erebus sat down on the ground and looked expectantly up at Neteri, one eyebrow raised. She huffed and narrowed her eyes. Planting her feet firmly on the ground, she tugged on the chain as hard as she could, but it did little more than make him lean forward. She sighed. “Okay, you have a point there.”
6. More Erebus and Neteri shenanigans because she’s right he’s being a drama queen
“You can’t just do that! That’s-you can’t just amputate my arm!”
“See, this is why I didn’t want to tell you. I knew you’d freak out.”
“Of-of course I’m freaking out! You want to cut off one of my limbs, for Drottkia’s sake!”
“I mean, yeah, but I’m going to give you a new one right away. So at the end of the day you’ll have the same number of arms you started with. It’s honestly not worth getting that worked up about.”
7. New phobia alert!! (warning for centipede on guy)
He felt it, it was on him, dozens of little legs pitter-pattering across his skin, crawling on him. “G-get it off. Neteri, please, please get it off.” It tickled the back of his neck, around the base of the section of skin she’d replaced. “What’s it doing Neteri plea-” she clamped a hand over his mouth, her thumb rubbing against his cheek as he whimpered.
“Shh, shh, you’re okay Erebus. I’m just seeing if it can connect to you, I promise I’ll take it off when I’m done.” Connect to him?! What-what did that mean-oh it had stopped crawling around it was just sitting there it was on his back what was it going to do to him what did connecting mean was it-Erebus felt a momentary pinch at the base of his neck, and suddenly his limbs starting moving, wriggling in the restraints all on their own. Neteri removed her hand from his mouth and looked down at him expectantly, her other hand still gripping his tightly even as his fingers twitched uncontrollably. “Are you doing that?”
“N-no I-I’m not moving I’m not doing that why are they doing that I can’t stop it is it doing that to me make it stop make it let go please-” Tears were streaming from Erebus’s eyes but he didn’t care he just wanted that thing off he wanted it gone he wanted control of his own body back he’d always had that even when he was tied up and strapped down he’d always had that-
And there we go hope that either a fun time on memory lane or at least made you laugh a little
Taggin uhhhh @galaxywhump @yet-another-heathen and @painsandconfusion (mainly because i know you will want to read the Castys content 💕)
15 notes
·
View notes
just venting
i mean whats the end goal for any of them
the politicians, the rich
to start a world war? to cause an uprising? an economic collapse? an unlivable planet? chaos?
bc thats whats going to happen
everything is being stretched so fucking thin that they will have nothing left for themsleves, they will have destroyed everything and then what??
wait until the last possible minute to either die from natural causes, vices, or kill yourself??
like what is the end goal? world domination? (im talking about the rich and politicians in general)
bc if its power that only goes so far. same with money.
even if you enslaved the whole world it wouldnt last. it cant it just is literally impossible
this kind of shit is finite, being a terrible person has a limit
they want to feel so powerful but is there an end?
but i guess they literally are just riding the wave until they die.
i just cant wrap my head around it
and its so fucking hard to give up. i want to give up so bad and just stop caring and just focus on whatever i want and get in that shitty richy politician mindset
because i dont believe in accountability after death, but i cant.
even with the anger and wanting these people dead and this strong beyond words feeling of hate for them i still cant fathom and understand the hate they have for everyone who isnt them or like them
if they all dropped dead im celebrating
but if i had a choice between them changing all of a sudden and them dropping dead id choose change
how does someone become like them how does that hate and anger grow so much that it practically oozes out their pores
i cant help but not give up and i cant help but have hope
their ways are not sustainable and everything is already breaking and i hope it breaks soon like full on. whatever that means
3 notes
·
View notes
"Here," it's... it's just bread. It's a bun, sure large enough to still some amount of hunger, but it's just bread. And yet, María holds it in front of Patrick with the face of someone who'd consider it a criminal offense to refuse it. Nevermind that she's stolen it from one of the banquets. "Just making sure you're eating."
((RUH-ROH it's Len again~ and I promise I forgot about the Peeta bread thing until I re-read this IGNORE THAT--!! FDKLGJDLAJSGF Hope you didn't end up getting sick BUT IF YOU DID HOPE YOU'RE RESTING AND FEELING BETTER SOON 🥺)) || okay but panem is also known as the nation of bread & circuses– ( unprompted w/ @mythvoiced )
He doesn’t eat much in the Capitol.
Which is ironic, seeing how most of his life before the games, Patrick was always hungry. Always trying between schooling and factory shifts to figure out when his next meal was going to come. Why else would he and Hyuk have taken out tesserae all those years ago? It was preferable, playing the odds in the Reaping to starving for the rest of the year.
Nowadays, food is the least of his concerns. Whereas there is still a dearth in District Three, there is surplus in the Capitol. No surplus isn’t the right word; a surplus would mean the Capitol keeps the extra for the future. No, there is an excess of food in the Capitol, an excess that is dumped and left to rot after the pigs have had their share, have had their fun.
When he remembers that, food in the Capitol, no matter how finely it’s been prepared, becomes disgusting. Repulsive when it is combined with the thought of the districts, his people, still starving and fighting one another for the Capitol’s ‘scraps’. One plate is enough for Patrick to feel the bile swish in his stomach and even crawl back up his throat– how is he supposed to enjoy this filth now?
(But of course the Capitol has a way of perverting everything. Who else would have invented a liquid that makes one vomit what was just digested to make room for more food?)
“You didn’t have to,” is the first set of words to come out of his mouth, however. It’s such a childish gesture on her part; as a victor, she and her family should have more than enough riches to cover for food whether she’s in the Capitol or her own district. That and it’s considered normal to take leftovers from these banquets.
And yet, she’s staring him down like they are in covenance– it’s odd…strange how the things the Capitol deem sacred, she’ll approach with the irreverence of a foreigner and yet with the most mundane of objects, like a loaf of bread, most likely one of the hundred baked today and will be replicated tomorrow, like it is worth the weight of gold. He takes a hold of María’s loot. The loaf is still warm, freshly out of the oven, he wants to believe. Like it came from one of the bakeries in say, District 12, rather than a Capitol banquet table. Does she look at the Capitol and its elaborate feasts the same way? District Eight is probably just as bad if not even worse than his own district when it comes to food shortages so maybe her thievery makes sense.
When one has gone without food for long enough, no amount of surplus is enough to satiate the insecurity. He knows that feeling all too well. His stomach growls in anticipation. “…Normally, the Capitol likes to have this with caviar.” A delicacy from District Four along with butter shipped from District Ten. He splits the loaf in two, the inside crackling and breaking into two crisp pieces. “But I think…I think it tastes just as delicious on its own.” He hands María one half while taking a bite out of the other. “Take the other half; I can’t finish it on my own.”
It tastes delicious.
2 notes
·
View notes