#TW: Torture | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

diejager · 21 days

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The writing where reader died, what happens if they were revived as a wraith like Ghost? There's probs going to have a lot of fluff and a small angst here and there. But I mostly wanna read your writings!! It's cus' I can't get enough, and kept rereading it all the time

Cw: pain, death, turning, cannibalism, implied torture, implied blood and gore, angst, fluff, hunger, tell me if I missed any. We’re going to forget how you previously died, cuz @bluegiragi gave us more info about wraiths and I just love where the comic is going.

What a cruel joke, irony hitting him in the face the same way his abrupt shift hurt him, an apathetic slap to the face that left him bloody and in shock the way he left Roba on his dying breath. Simon didn’t know what was crueler, the knowledge that you were tortured and buried alive, left to die alone for the sins of his own making and the wrath of another, or that you were left to die a slow and excruciating death after being beaten half to death, expected to lose your resolve solely on the fact that you were a medic, and turned into the monster he was.

Neither your captor nor death had been merciful, much less the reaper, a collector of wandering souls and lost ghosts, waiting their turn to cross the river with a small token for the afterlife. Be it Hermes, the messenger and the carrier of souls, Thanatos the reaper and collector, Anubis - or Inpu, however people called him - the guide, Ankou the shadow, Sgàthach the warrior, or Freyja and Fólkvangr; you weren’t granted the soft embrace of a calm death, but the cruel rejection of it, forced back into life and abandoned by sweet sleep.

He remembered his own, the painful pull of his back, the crazed smoke that filled his mind with a thirst for blood and revenge, the crack and ugly break of his bode, reshaping his body and organs dyed dark, dying and pained. He remembered well the pain of it like it was yesterday, having to crawl out of the shallow grave on his own and discover the carnage he left behind, stained in his and Price’s blood. He was reborn.

And so were you, crying and sobbing, your skin scarred beyond thinking and mind in shambles of broken faith and abandoned affection. He knew first hand how it felt, the burn and agony of it, the hunger and ache that plagued you like an undying pestilence, darker than the one that ripped through Europe in the fourteenth century and more devastating than the Justinian’s. He’d been too late, too slow to help you through the first ripple of shock and fear once you’d quenched your thirst, staunching it like you would a wound. He let you fester in your sorrow and hunger, left you without a guide or caretaker until you ravaged the area, leaving only blood and rubble in your devastation.

But he’s here now, picking you up from the mess you found yourself in, a storm of smoke and thick black that you hid yourself in, to hide the monster you had become. He might not be proud of who he’s become - much like you - but he grew into it, lived his life as one, and he would be here to help you through the process of it. Where he wished he had a helping hand, you would have his. He would help you with your hunger, the famine that grew the more you left it alone, filling your being with bodies he’d gather up for you to absorb. He would teach you how to control the smoke - the sinews of your being, the consistence of it forming your figure - and build from it, stopping yourself from phasing to and from it, staying as a physical manifestation of it rather than darkness itself.

Where he felt lost and confused, alone and wishing for a swift end, you wouldn’t, he made sure to stay, to be the pillar of support for you whenever you crashed, his body covering yours to stop you from vanishing in a fit of tears. Where he spent time hating himself, demeaning the cannibalism he became, you wouldn’t, he’d rather send himself to hell than let you think you were the lowest of the low, a human eating another. And where he was cruel to himself when death had renounced him, you wouldn’t, he’d whisper the sweetest words, praises, compliments, affection and guidance, he would make sure you wouldn’t drown alone like he did years ago. He loved you too much to let that happen.

Taglist: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @angelcakes-22 @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mul-pi @danielle143 @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @luvecarson @petwifed @randominstake @heartelysia @jggykhug09090 @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @call-me-nyxx @sans-chara @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @thigh-o-saur @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce @sobbingnshtting

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #monster 141 au #monster cod au #monster 141 #wraith!reader #tw death #ansgt #fluff #mw2 ghost #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #tw: torture

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statusexile · 5 months

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Task Force 141’s favorite torture method when they found out you work for Makarov is by tying your arms and legs wide open to the bedposts while you’re naked as they wrote derogatory words such as “cock whore”, “cum dumpster”, “gang rape me”, “free to use” all over your body. You will be nothing but their fuck toy, your body will be used at their own will. Your cunt and asshole will be so fucking sore and puffy after having to fuck them multiple times a day to the point it became numb.

Ghost and Price will be the most ruthless ones, they’ll fuck you like you’re a subhuman, torturing all your holes not only with their fucking thick cocks, but by using every single thing that they could fit inside you, making sure your holes are gaping and stretched wide open, solely for their amusement as you violently scream for their mercy.

While Soap and Gaz will physically torture you by choking, slapping and constantly using your mouth as a fleshlight. They love hearing you gag on their cocks while they face fuck your mouth. If you pass out, they’ll slap you over and over again until you wake up only to be used by them again.

Your body is all sticky from their cum, basically oozing with them from every single pore on your skin at this point. Your mind and body is constantly about to break from them constantly fucking and torturing you, while the room you’re held hostage in constantly blaring with metal music and blindingly bright lights for 24/7. You’re lucky if you get any water or food, most of the time their cum is your only food for days. But hey, you’re a strong girl, right? I’m sure you’ll keep up with their demands.

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

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Omg I am in love with your writing, I want to eat it-

A humble request for a Soap Drabble-

In the aftermath of a mission where Reader is kidnapped and tortured for information (the 141 saved them) Reader seems like her usual sunshine self, like she wasn’t just beaten within an inch of her life. Some accident happens while everyone is hanging out that triggers a flashback. Reader feels like she has to escape the base facility where she’s being held and the 141 chases reader, not knowing that it’s making it worse-

Basically a PTSD episode that leaves reader going all Rambo and Soap calms her down- lots of Hurt/Comfort and hugs :)

—Find Me

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You're finally back in One-Four-One's hands, but that doesn't mean you're saved. Johnny tracks you down after a violent episode.] ❞

The worst part is that you don’t even remember most of it. By whatever coping mechanism that you’d been cursed with, all you can bring forward is snippets. The doctors tell you it’s a blessing in disguise, of course—if you remembered how they had broken you over, and over, and over again, you would be…unrecognizable.

But not knowing and having this paranoia in the back of your skull was far worse than guessing where the new scars started and ended; how they got there in the first place.

It was like everything was one second away from falling apart again.

Sitting in the rec room on base, you may have managed to fool the therapists and pass through the medical evaluation, but you can’t, not for one minute, fool Johnny.

It started with a casual comment.

“We don’t have to be here, y’know?” The Scot had said. “Let’s just go someplace a bit quieter, aye, Dearie? It’s gettin’ late out.”

You had sent him a side-eye, your arms crossed. It had been wrong to ignore the pound of your heart like that—to ignore how your skin was sweaty and your voice shook as you spoke above the laughing of fellow soldiers.

But you had to keep the act up. Even with him.

“It’s nothing, Soap,” you ease. “We’re all here to have a good time. I’m fine.”

Those cobalt blues were tight, worried. Every part of his face was tight with concern as his feet shuffled, elbow moving back to the table behind the two of you.

“You’re not actin’ right, Little Lady,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as he watches you closely. “There’s no shame in it—”

“Would you just quit it, Johnny,” you snap, looking over sharply. “God, I’m not gonna break apart like some weak bitch, okay?”

He’s quick to clarify, hand moving up in a display you would use for a feral animal. “I never meant it like that.”

Your head turns away, and you roll your eyes. Simon and Price watch closely from the corner of the room, their conversation from previous falling silent.

But you couldn’t have accounted for the way Gaz strolled past, or how the soldier was walking back over from the pool table, swinging his cue stick in some wide arch to mess around with his friends.

But you also couldn’t have accounted for the sudden flash you’d have to the breaking of bottles over your head—of glass being ripped out of your shredded flesh and thrown to the ground.

Your body seizes up as Gaz’s cup shatters, and your eyes all at once go far away.

Johnny’s shocked face had snapped to the scene in front of him, blinking quickly as he stood and was about to go get a broom.

“Best watch where you’re swingin’ that thing there, eh?” He says to the soldier who looks highly embarrassed, Gaz frowning down at the remnants.

“Oi!” Everyone’s eyes dart to Ghost’s outburst, but he’s not addressing anyone left in the room—the Lieutenant dashes out of the hallway, Price hot in his heels.

Johnny turns back and you’re gone.

Racing away, your blood is hot and rabid, taking corners with record speed; the pounding feet behind you don’t help, the shouts. Every moment you try to get your head under control the sounds make it worse.

You end up outside, lost in the trees as the branches slap your face and body—running with no destination, no thoughts. And you just keep going. Panting, your stomach is stuck in knots, and your aching legs shake until you fall over and heave into the grass; sobs breaking through. Your lungs can’t get air down.

You don’t know how long you were out there, you don’t know how long it took for Johnny to find you, but when he did you heard his quick call of your name—his desperate plea for you to breathe when he grappled for your shoulders.

Your eyes stare blankly at him, gone to all else but your ringing ears.

Hands cup your cheeks.

“Hey, it’s me, Bonnie,” he rubs along your flesh, petting your skin with his thumb. You’ve never seen his eyes so afraid before. “Hey now, hey. Come back to me, we’re both right here—just focus on me. You’re back home, then, aye? Back with me on Base. There’s nothin’ that’s going to happen to you long as I’m here. I made that promise, yeah? I intend to keep it.”

His voice is grounding for you—for your failing body as your addled mind tries to calm down.

Johnny.

You pull on that shred of remembrance of when he’d found you, beaten within an inch of your life. His tiny pupils, stuck in a sea of deep blue. His callouses holding you to him as he raggedly breathed into your hair, screaming for med-evac.

“That’s it, Dearie,” right here, right now, you sag forward. Widened eyes quiver as your lower face is pressed into his shoulder, Johnny’s hand hard on the back of your head. “That’s it—it’s just Johnny.” The man is shaking just like you are, even when your wheezed sobs make his chest tighten painfully. How your hands weakly grasp at his shirt in desperation; clawing for purchase.

“It’ll always just be me.” Soap breathes, swallowing the saliva in his throat. “I’m gonna get you all the help you need….you bet on it. You’re going to be better, and I’m going to be with you through all of it.”

The side of his face nuzzles into yours as you breathe in his scent, choking on the air but slowly starting to get it down.

“No one fights alone.”

“Johnny,” you gasp.

“Shush, now,” he whispers, wrenching his eyes shut. “I’m here. Breathe. I’m here.”

“It hurts.” Your tears soak through his shirt, and his arms hold you tighter until he reminds himself to be gentle.

All he can do is try to hold back his own tears, his throat raw from his mad dash after you—he’d never run that fast in his life besides the moment he’d found you alive.

“I know,” his voice cracks, rocking you back and forth like a child. “I know, m’sorry, Dearie. I’m so, so sorry.”

“Don’t let go,” you plead. “Please don’t let go.”

“Never,” he growls. “Never in my life.” He says it with every ounce of goodness left in him.

“I’m never lettin’ you go ever again, aye? They’ll have to pry me off you.”

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marrow-and-bone · 3 months

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the moment's already passed

a q!Quackity comic drawn for hourly comic day 2024 ( also on AO3 )

#quackity fanart #qsmp fanart #q!quackity #cucurucho fanart #qsmp #I get why not everyone can keep up with Q's lore in two languages but holy shit it goes SO FUCKING HARD #ALL OF THIS IS CANON??? GOD!!!!!#tw: drowning #tw: captivity #tw: torture #my art

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celluloidbroomcloset · 4 months

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You ever think about how Ed and Stede not only have matching burn marks on their chests, but also matching stab wounds?

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #edward teach #ed teach #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #gif #tw: torture

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candycandy00 · 7 months

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Human - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic

You’re a human-shaped cat girl curse in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Part 2

Notes: I got the idea for this after watching the latest episode and loving how they used horror movie music when Gojo was stalking Jogo. So this has horror elements.

Smut. 18+. VERY DARK FIC! Noncon/Rape! Torture! Pain! Gojo being a sadistic freak! Don’t read this if any of those things bother you! Reader doesn’t die but she goes through hell. You’ve been warned!

You had always loved humans. You loved the way they laughed, the way they moved, the way they loved each other so fiercely. From the moment you came into being, you longed to be human.

You were a curse, and you were supposed to hate humans, to kill them. But you’d never harmed one in your lifetime. It was a blessing that you looked like them. The only visible difference was that you had furry cat ears and a long cat tail. In recent years you noticed young humans wearing fake cat ears as fashion accessories, and you loved it. Mainly because it meant you could walk among them and those that could see you wouldn’t even blink upon seeing your ears.

You didn’t even need the ears to hear. You had a set of “human ears” as well, which you got your auditory information from.

Over the past few months, you had even made friends with a couple of human girls who attended a college in the city. You looked around the same age as them, so you blended in well.

This year, for Halloween, they invited you to come with them to Shibuya for a huge party in the streets. You were reluctant to go to big public places with them, for fear that they would introduce you to someone who couldn’t see you. But this Halloween party sounded so fun! And you could let your tail show and everyone would assume it was part of your costume.

Your friends helped you pick out a dress to wear. It was black, to match your ears, slinky, with a slit up the side and thin straps at your shoulders. Your friends called it “sexy” and said it complimented your figure.

On Halloween night, the evening had started out great, but of course it all went to hell pretty quickly. You saw the veil coming down, tried to hurry your friends along to escape without revealing what you knew, what you were, but it was too late. Your friends were sucked down into the subway station, and though you checked and found that you could leave the barrier if you wanted, you couldn’t abandon them.

So you traveled down to where they were. You spotted some curses along the way but they ignored you, perhaps assuming you were on their side. You found your two friends standing in a corner, their hands clasped together in fear. When they saw you, relief broke out across their faces and they pulled you into an embrace. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had to protect them.

It wasn’t long before a sorcerer showed up. You saw him hovering above the crowd like a god. He was tall, with snow white hair and a blindfold over his eyes. Even in a sea of humans dressed in outlandish costumes, he would have stuck out even if he were walking among them. There was something imposing about him. Something frightening.

Then the curses came, and a fight broke out. Or more accurately, a massacre. The curses were killing humans to distract and frazzle the sorcerer, and you quickly ushered your friends to a far corner, as far away from the carnage as possible. You told them to remain there and keep their heads down while you went to check the situation. They didn’t want you to go, they were afraid for you, but you had to find out what was happening.

When you got a little closer to the train tracks, you saw the sorcerer standing above everyone else, and watched him slowly pull his blindfold down. You saw the most haunting, beautiful, glowing eyes you’d ever seen. The sight took your breath away. And then, the real massacre began.

The sorcerer dove in among the curses, ripping them apart, laughing with sadistic glee, eyes wild and crazed, mouth open in a terrifying smile. He was beautiful. He was monstrous. He was a nightmare come to life.

What scared you most of all was how much he enjoyed it. This wasn’t a job for him, a duty. It was pure, unfiltered pleasure. He loved it. He loved the way their bodies ripped at the seams, the way their blood flowed and splashed, the cries of terror and pain.

You retreated back to your friends, planning to shield them if anything went wrong. The action quickly died down. Whatever plan the curses had for the sorcerer failed. He’d slaughtered them all. You sensed the barrier come down, and you knew your friends would be safe. You also knew you had to flee. The sorcerer probably sensed you at some point, and your fear was that he would mistake you as being with the ones he’d killed, the ones who’d tried to kill him.

When you had the chance, you took off, running up the subway tunnel, into the darkness, shedding your high heeled human shoes as you went. You found a small maintenance room along the way and went inside. It was dark and empty, and there was nothing but a table, desk, chair, and a couple of lockers in the room. You squeezed into one of the lockers and dampened your cursed energy as low as possible, then waited. If enough time passed, you would feel safe in assuming the sorcerer hadn’t noticed you or at least hadn’t considered you worth pursuing.

You hid there, holding your breath, trying not to move an inch. But then you heard the door open, and your heart stopped. You listened as heavy footsteps walked into the room. You covered your mouth with your hand as tears trickled down your face. You just saw what this man could do to curses, what he enjoyed doing to curses. You didn’t stand a chance.

The door to your locker flung open, and you were met with the most horrifying, unhinged grin you’d ever seen, wild, shimmering blue eyes boring into you.

“There you are!” His voice was deep, with a distinctly gleeful tone.

He grabbed a handful of your hair and tore you from the locker. “I’m not with those other curses,” you were crying, wanting to make that clear as soon as possible, “I don’t even know them!”

The sorcerer pulled your face closer to his and sneered at you. “So you just happened to be in the same place at the same time?”

You realized how bad it looked. “Please wait! I’ve never hurt humans! I love humans!”

He laughed then. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

Your whole body was trembling with fright, your face wet with tears. You were pulled against him, and you felt a bulge through his pants. Killing the curses had left him aroused. He really was a sadist! His face had turned cold and emotionless. You didn’t know which expression was more terrifying.

You tried to pull away from him, and his hand slipped from your hair. He grabbed at one of your ears, and it sent a jolt of sensation through you.

Your ears were incredibly sensitive to both pleasure and pain. When they were touched, it was almost as intense as as being touched between your legs. As his fingers closed over your ear, a moan escaped you.

He froze. You clamped your hand over your mouth. You glanced up at his face, and you saw a flicker of surprise. He gave your ear a light squeeze, as if to experiment. Your entire body jerked, and your hand did nothing to contain another humiliating sound coming from your mouth. Your breaths became quicker. You squirmed and clamped your thighs together, trying to block out the pleasure emanating from your ear.

You heard his voice say, “Seriously?” You glanced up and saw a wicked grin on his face, a strange look in those glimmering eyes. His thumb stroked over your ear, softly, and you couldn’t hold back your mewling cries.

His eyes shifted down to your chest, as if just noticing your shape, the way your breasts heaved beneath the thin fabric of your dress, the way your cleavage nearly spilled out of the low neckline. His free hand slid one narrow strap down your shoulder, exposing one breast, making you whimper in shame. Then he was roughly grabbing the rounded flesh.

He chuckled. “Why the fuck does a curse have a body like this?”

Your hands were frozen at your sides. You were too afraid to move. You had no choice but to let him molest you as he kept stroking your ear. He seemed to enjoy your distress, that violent, bloodthirsty look still in his eyes. But there was something else there, something that scared you even more. Lust.

The hand groping your chest moved down, then slid under the slit in your dress, shoving itself between your trembling thighs. He laughed again. “I guess curses don’t wear panties,” he said, his fingers opening your folds and rubbing the small, sensitive nub inside.

Your body jolted again, pleasure rippling through you. You tried to pull away again, despite your fear, but his hand left your ear and grabbed hold of your tail.

You screamed. Your tail was more sensitive than your ears, and the harshness of his hand coiling your tail around it and squeezing hard made you see stars. He loosened his grip slightly, now rubbing your tail in a more sensual motion. You could feel the pleasure building again, with his hands stroking both your tail and your clit. You tried to fight it, tried to contain your pitiful moans, tried not to look at those lovely, eerie eyes that were watching your face. But you had always been a weak curse, in many ways.

“Ahhhhh!”

The cry of ecstasy broke free from your lips, and your body spasmed as you collapsed. His hands held you up, still stroking your quivering flesh and your shaking tail, even as you panted and leaned your head over onto his chest in exhaustion.

You heard him laugh. “I’ve never seen a curse cum before,” he was saying, his voice so close it sent chills down your spine. “Thanks for the show, but the fun’s over now.”

Fun? What part of this was fun? But within seconds you realized the humiliation you just suffered was fun compared to what he planned to do with you. His hand tightened suddenly on your tail, and just as suddenly, he ripped it off.

Blood sprayed behind you. The pain was blinding, unimaginable, unbearable. You began to fall forward, but he caught you by your hair, holding you upright. You couldn’t even scream, your mouth opening and closing as you gasped for air.

“Guess I found your weak point,” he said in a light hearted tone.

When you finally regained your voice, after your body began slowly regenerating your tail, you pleaded with him.

“Please let me go! I’m scared!”

He used your hair to turn your head so that you faced him. “And you think all those humans you guys murdered weren’t scared?”

“I didn’t kill anyone! I told you, I love humans!”

His grin faded. “Why would a curse love humans?”

You whimpered as his grip on your hair tightened. He reached up his other hand and roughly grabbed an ear, making you jump and cry out. “Because I want to be human,” you finally said, shuddering with sobs.

He laughed again, a cruel laugh that made you hate him as much as you feared him. “That’s hilarious,” he said, then suddenly he grabbed a hold of your dress and completely ripped it from your body. You yelled out in surprise, then tried to cover yourself. He pulled your hands away from your body and shoved you onto the metal table in the middle of the room.

You were on your back, completely bare, the gaping wound where your tail once was trying to close around the tiny nub you’d regenerated. You kicked wildly, thrashing about to try to keep him from climbing on top of you, but it was no use. He was immeasurably stronger than you. He straddled you, his knees on either side of your body. He looked down at you with a mixture of desire and disgust.

Then, he unbuckled his belt and opened his pants. You were shaking your head before he even pulled out his massive cock, still rock hard from his earlier rampage. “Please, no…”

“Shut up,” he told you, scooting back on the table to give himself enough room to shove your legs apart. “Stop trying to act human. It’s grossing me out.”

So you laid there, crying and shaking, as he took you. His thrusts were violent, satisfying his lust for your body as well as his lust for hurting curses. He was destroying you. That’s what it felt like. His hands were on your breasts, squeezing far too hard, then on your hips, gripping them with bruising fingers, then finally on your ears.

Surprisingly, his touch there started out gentle. He caressed them softly with his fingers, and you couldn’t resist the pleasure it caused. You let out little whimpering moans and shivered under his ministrations. He grinned down at you, seeming amused by the fact that he could make you feel this way even as he raped you.

After a few minutes of mortifying pleasure that left your heart and body confused, when you were on the edge of another orgasm, he suddenly gripped one of your ears tightly, and pulled. You cried out in pain, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. “Please, don’t!”

His face shifted. His grin was maniacal, his eyes deranged, as he oh so slowly pulled your hyper sensitive ear from your head. You screamed, clawing at him then nearly blacking out from the pain. All the while, he was still fucking you.

One of his hands moved to your other ear, stroking it again in an almost loving fashion. You didn’t have the strength to fight or resist. You could only allow the totally conflicting sensations to wash over you in waves. The white hot pain of your ripped off ear and his cock tearing through you, and the mind melting pleasure of his soft fingers on your remaining ear.

Eventually he leaned forward, his fully clothed body pressing against your nude one, and pressed his lips to your ear. He ran his tongue over it, gently, and it felt like your entire body was being stimulated. You came with a loud, whining moan, your back arching involuntarily against him. When you looked up, he was smiling down at you, not the frightening grin he’d been wearing, but a strangely kind one. In your hazy, half conscious state, you thought he looked like an angel.

Then, he ripped your other ear off.

Your eyes widened, your mouth opening in a soundless scream, your torn body clenching around him. And that’s when you felt his warm cum shooting deeply inside you. “You’ll never be human,” he whispered as he filled you with his seed.

He pulled out and got off the table, zipping his pants and fixing his belt. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at you. The anger and the bloodlust were gone from his eyes, he’d fucked it all into you and left it there. As if he had come down from a high, he stood quietly for a moment, staring at your wrecked body. He opened his mouth to say something, but the door to the room burst open, cutting him off.

Your two friends ran inside, one of them clutching your discarded shoes. They must have seen them in the tunnel and come looking for you. Even after all the blood and violence they’d seen tonight, they still walked down a dark, scary tunnel to find you!

The looks on their faces were horrific. They ran past the sorcerer and to your side, one of them yanking off her jacket to cover you with it. Then they rounded on him.

“You sick fuck! What did you do to her?!”

“Rapist! Monster!”

They were screaming, tears on their own faces. You tried to sit up, to tell them to run away. Sorcerers didn’t attack humans as a general rule, but this one was such a terror that you didn’t know what he would do to two human girls who had interrupted his fun.

He looked at them with bewilderment on his face. He gestured toward you and said, “She’s… your friend?”

“Of course she is,” one of them cried. She was digging around in her purse for something, then pulled out a small pink canister. “Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll mace you in the fucking face!”

You were sitting up on the table, with effort. Everything hurt. “Get behind me,” you told them.

“No,” the one holding the mace said, “you’re always protecting us! You think we didn’t notice?”

The other girl was standing firmly in between you and the sorcerer. “We’ll protect you this time!”

He looked at them, at the can of mace trembling in the girl’s hand. They were scared, but they refused to back down.

Several different emotions seemed to pass over his face. Confusion, realization, shock, horror… guilt? Was he just now realizing that he’d brutalized an innocent creature? Had he really thought you deserved whatever punishment he dished out because he assumed you’d killed humans? He didn’t say anything, he simply looked at you with a pained expression, and then he was gone, so fast none of you saw him leave.

Your friends turned to you. “Let’s get you home. Do you need a hospital, or can you heal yourself?”

You blinked at them. Your ears were already growing back. “How did you know I can heal?”

They glanced at each other. “We’ve known you were different for a while now. We don’t know exactly how you’re different, but we think it’s amazing!”

You pulled them both into a hug, tears in your eyes. They were the silver lining in your life. They made you feel human, and that sadistic sorcerer could never take that from you.

#Gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #Gojo #gojo satoru #gojo smut #tw: Rape #tw: torture

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accio-victuuri · 2 months

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wang yibo as wei ruolai @ war of faith 🔥

#wang yibo #wei ruolai #chang feng po lang #war of faith #accio victuuri edit #accio victuuri gifs #tw: torture #tw: blood #I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS OMGGGGGG LETS GOOOOOOOOO

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leathfaic · 1 year

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soap gets captured on a mission and his captors try to get information out of him. he's a resilient little asshole though and they get nowhere. one of them is a smart type, he notices how soap practically bounces of his environment, constantly hyper aware.

so they stick him into a sensory deprivation tank for hours on end. and while he's still not spilling anything it's clear that it works. that it's breaking him. so they keep him in there tank locked, nothing to occupy his desperate brain but his own screaming and crying.

eventually the lid opens again but this time it's ghost and price, ready to save him, the compound behind them a fucking massacre. and they find soap, voice beyond hoarse and this feral look in his eyes.

and ghost carries him out because he's hurt. his heart breaking the whole time as johnny just begs him over and over to keep talking because he can't stand the silence or the sound of his own voice anymore. ghost keeps talking about everything and nothing, about how much he loves him, about the terrible things he did to the people that held soap captive. how they are all dead and will never hurt him again. in the end out of desperation he turns back to bad jokes and stupid army humour.

that's finally when johnny relaxes at least incrementally. stops begging him and just listens.

it takes weeks for soap to be able to return, probably wouldn't have been cleared at all if ghost hadn't made some strategic threats. but being at base, being busy, having input is the only thing that really brings soap back in the end. he still can't sleep in dark and silent rooms. but ghost is there, keeps the lights on, keeps finding white noise that helps him fall asleep, is a warm body next to him.

and ghost knows all this so well. had to fight his way out of the dark box that held him, no sensory input but the stench of death and maggots crawling on his skin.

and he wishes dearly he could have done worse things to the people who did this. who nearly broke his johnny but surely broke ghost's heart having to watch his lover experience a horror that is so familiar to him.

#tw: torture #this hc is brought to you by a friend asking if i wanted to come for a session in one of those tanks #i dont think id make it 5 minutes before going insane #ghostsoap #soapghost #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #captain price #I'm sorry soap i love you

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misspoetree · 1 year

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KinnPorsche + Text Posts: Vegas Edition - Part III

Bonus: The Struggle

[Themed Editions: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | ?]

[Episode Editions]

#did I make another Vegas character edition even though I hadn't planned to? yes...yes I did.#well...I guess there are worse ways to spend a Saturday evening 😂🤷🏻‍♀️#kinnporsche #kinnporche the series #thai bl #vegas theerapanyakul #bible wichapas sumettikul #vegaspete #kinnporsche meme #kinnporsche + text post #text post meme #missing kinnporsche hours #because the kinnporsche brain rot is still real #tw: guns #tw: torture

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copypastus · 7 months

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Tamsand timeline as told in ACOLAR.

Using the free day of @officialrhysandweek to gush about my favourite piece of ACOTAR fan content out there.

@ashintheairlikesnow can you tell I really liked your fic? I REALLY liked your fic.

#acotar #acotar fanart #my art #acolar #rhysandweek2023 #rhysand #tamlin #tamsand #amarantha #lucien vanserra #tw: rape #tw: torture #tw: blood #DO YOU LIKE THE COLOR OF THE TAMSAND #this took me two weeks to make it was painful #but well worth it #i was so reluctant to cut tamlin's hair at first #but he actually looks super cute like this #should have never doubted my queen for she has excellent taste

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vagrantcallisto · 5 months

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"This fanfic is disgusting!"

Bitch, nobody Clockwork Orange'd you into reading it.

#THE TAGS ARE RIGHT THERE #archive of our own #pro-fiction #problematic fanfiction #pro-kink #purity culture #pro-ship #proship please interact #anti anti #antis dni #a clockwork orange #I love ao3 #anti harassment #tw: torture

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in-love-with-writing-whump · 3 months

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"Whumpee asked for you specifically, A. I'll let you in to see them," Whumpee's medic and lover, Caretaker, said.

A couldn’t believe it. Whumpee wanted to see them? Before their best friend, B? After they sacrificed themself and were tortured by Whumper for months because of them?

They followed Caretaker, refusing to let them down, even as their face burned with shame, guilt gnawing at their insides.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leader Whumpee sat in the wheelchair, whiteboard sitting across their blanketed lap as Caretaker opened the door for A, the younger, sibling-like member of Team. A's breath hitched, eyes widening.

"They’re okay, A," Caretaker assured them. "Their throat is still healing, and they're still weak, but they're going to be okay."

A nodded, Caretaker letting out a deep breath. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to give the two of you some privacy. I have some things to attend to." The door shut behind them, leaving A standing before Whumpee, unable to meet their eyes at the sight of matching wounds from Whumper.

Whumpee's eyes burned with the shame of being unable to even give A a hug, or tell them that none of this was their fault. They attempted a smile, scribbling on their board.

"I missed you."

A's eyes welled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Whumpee," they whispered, hands curling into fists.

Whumpee shook their head vigorously, scribbling big letters on the board before tapping it when their marker. A looked up, hiccuping when they saw the message.

"It’s not your fault. They would've just killed you and taken me anyways. It's not your fault."

As A sank to their knees, they wrapped their arms around Whumpee in a hug, holding back tears as they pressed their face into the blanket.

#whump prompt #whumpee #tw: trauma #caretaker #tw: angst #tw: violence #tw: torture #tw: captivity #tw: throat whump #tw: implied strangulation #tw: muscle atrophy #tw: crying #tw: guilt #found family #team whump #whumper

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aftgficrec · 3 months

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hi besties! can i be a bit weird and ask for sick fics here? old/new/favorites, any will do! just some big ol’ hurt/ comfort, especially if combined with some emotional hurt/comfort 🥰

There’s nothing weird about this at all! Apart from the fics below, there’s also our sickfic tag as well as our hurt/comfort tag for more (see our tag page under the heading ‘themes - injuries/illnesses/conditions’). - S

Previous recs:

cool andreil sick fics here

sick fics here

foxes with headaches/sick fics here

10k+ sick fics here

Andreil in hospital here

Neil with major injury here

Neil gets injured (post canon) here

Neil & car accidents here

accident-prone Neil here

Andreil with amnesia here

medical Andreil/Aaron & Neil here

Neil getting roofied here

Also see…

‘we're one (there's nothing to be done)’ here

‘Just like that day’ here

‘head case (what to do with you)’ here

‘Such Stuff as Dreams are Made’ here

‘Neil Josten Is a Lucky Man’ here

‘Broken’ here

‘If Only I Were Enough’ (completed) here

‘I'll Come Back To You’ here

‘glass in the trees (objects in the rearview)’ here

‘Running Ragged’ here

‘To Love and Be Loved’ here

‘all that looking down’ here

‘next best thing’, keep telling me that it gets better (does it ever?)’ and ‘no matter when and where, we’ll be alright’ here

‘Can Nobody Hear Me (I cannot breathe)’, ‘I remeber tears streaming down your face (for me to wipe them away)’, ‘you crawled inside my head’, ‘living leaves so many holes in us’, ‘Ciggarette Smoke Cure’, ‘Breathless’, ‘i've done my time’ and ‘cats and close calls’ here

‘The Highs and Lows of Pre-med Majors' here (Aaron)

‘Hold My Hand?’ here

‘Echo’ here

I’m More Than This Body of Mine by yall_send_help [Rated M, 88811 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The doctor took a pause, which Nathaniel was able to use to ask, “what about my leg?” The two pigs had the audacity to look surprised. The doctor looked over at them with a hint of confusion. “You didn’t tell him?” Towns shook his head as Browning said, “you told us not to.” Dr. Byrd nodded her head in approval and turned back to the bed. “Nathaniel…” she trailed off, reevaluating her words. “Would you mind if I sit?” and only after his own nod did she. “The damage done to your leg… it was unlike what most of the staff at this hospital had ever seen. The surgeons tried to save it, but…” She looked down at where his legs were and Nathaniel did too, only to feel himself pale at what he found. “The surgery took about three hours,” Dr. Byrd continued. “The only reason why it took so long was because the surgeons really did try to save your leg. They did. Amputations usually take only half that time. Eventually, Dr. McCoy called it. Because of the damage done to your leg, we couldn’t wake you up to ask. It had to go. I’m sorry.” or - the one where neil goes to baltimore and comes back missing a leg

tw: torture, tw: amputation, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: blood, tw: animal cruelty, tw: implied/referenced drug overdose

fireproof by mostly_maudlin [Rated T, 2097 words, complete, 2024]

Andrew gets his flu shot.

Things Always Gets Worse Before They Gets Better series by Renee_Walker_09 [Rated G, 40141 words, incomplete, 3 complete works, 2024]

Part 1: Beginnings & Endings (G, 1083 words)

It's 1:30 in the morning. The Foxes are celebrating their championship win against the Ravens the only way they know how to: booze, partying, and a little bit more booze. Nothing could possibly ruin this?

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury

Part 2: You Mean Everything To Me (G, 12767 words)

There are two crashed cars. There’s blood on the floor. Lights are flashing all around. Andrew is standing in the middle of the crash site with a blanket draped across his shoulders as he stares straight at Neil, lying on the floor.

tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: suicide attempt, tw: drug overdose, tw: blood, tw: self harm

Part 3: Hours, Days, Weeks (G, 26299 words)

Andrew is lying in a coma following the accident. His condition is critical. And Neil and Aaron have to find a way to cope. Neil and Aaron’s POVs of the crash and the past 6 weeks

tw: car accident, tw: blood, tw: major character injury, tw: (temporary) major character death, tw: self harm, tw: panic attacks, tw: seizures

NB: find art for the fics by the author here as well as embedded in the fics

Even goalkeepers can’t block sickness by BlowingYourMind [Rated G, 12768 words, complete, 2024]

“Rabbit,” Andrew peered up at him with half lidded eyes, “Yes or no?” “Yes ‘Drew,” Neil clasped his hands at Andrew’s elbows, “it’s always a yes, you know that.” “No ‘s not,” Andrew weakly argued as he took hold of Neil’s chest pad, using it to leverage himself upwards. It was awkward work of walking half-delirious Andrew back to the locker room, shielding him from the crowd while keeping him on his feet, but they managed. Or Andrew becomes very sick at an away game, and Neil and the foxes take care of him.

tw: vomit

the upswing by missgivings [Not Rated, 45569 words, incomplete, last updated Jan 2024]

The next universe over, life has gone a bit easier on Andrew. He’s gainfully employed as a nurse of all things, working beside his best friend Renee, and living in relative harmony with his brother, the recently graduated Dr. Aaron Minyard. Everything’s fine. It’s fine that he hasn’t spoken to Kevin in person for three years. It’s fine if Aaron’s leaving him to marry his stupid doctor girlfriend. It’s fine until the boy with the box-dyed hair stumbles into the ER and passes out at his feet, bringing a world of secrets and trouble with him. And Neil? Neil’s looking for any port in a storm.

tw: major character injury, tw: violence, tw: implied/referenced self harm

please (don't bite) by Major_816 [Rated M, 5478 words, complete, 2024]

Genioglossus. It’s a fan-shaped muscle and forms the bulk of the inferior part of the tongue. It stretches to the hyoid bone too. ~ Neil wakes up to a bad day and it just gets worse.

tw: blood, tw: self harm, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: nightmares, tw: flashbacks, tw: vomit

Will you love me for who I am, not for who I was? by something_boring [Rated T, 1580 words, complete, 2024]

Neil is sick on New Year's eve, wakes up to the fireworks, and continues to have a panic attack about his time on the run.

tw: nightmares, tw: panic attacks, tw: implied/referenced child abuse

Your Needs, My Needs by TogeMythia [Rated T, 1073 words, complete, 2023]

‘Neil.’ He whined, his face still buried under the blankets. ‘Hrmph?’ Neil responded with a confused noise from somewhere across the bed. ‘Do you feel as shit as you sound?’ - Or Neil and Andrew wake up sick on Christmas day.

tw: vomit

To be safe by HushedStars [Rated G, 2116 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is feeling unwell. He seeks comfort from Matt. It was late at night. Neil stood in the kitchen, deep in thought but still with one ear alert for any movement of his roommates. He shifted from foot to foot, hands digging into his sore neck

tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks

Safe with him by 1mNot4Hum4n [Not Rated, 2434 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick but doesn't want to admit it. He can't be sick. He can't be weak. Luckily Andrew is there to make sure his junkie is okay, and remind him that he has people around him who are willing to do anything to protect him.

'tis the season by moonix [Rated T, 5579 words, complete, 2023]

Five holidays Andrew had to let Kevin take care of him and one time he got to return the favour.

i called your name ‘til the fever broke by cyanica [Rated T, 5632 words, incomplete, last updated Nov 2023]

Neil’s breath is hot and awful against Andrew’s thigh. “I can’t be sick on your birthday,” he says, like it’s that simple. “I can’t be sick on you on your birthday.” “How considerate,” Andrew’s voice is a bland murmur, and he is left watching Neil’s bloodless, wet lips, as he curls into Andrew’s lap. Neil gently pulls away after a moment, leaning back into Andrew’s hand on his neck. “Is me being sick still making you anxious?” he asks. Fever-stricken with dizzied-eyes and delirious thoughts, he knows Andrew without more than a moment beside him, a look into his eyes that makes Andrew feel undone, found. Or Neil is sick and Andrew isn’t coping well.

tw: vomit, tw: panic attacks, tw: dissociation, tw: anxiety

You Know I'm Good On My Own by sambutwithbooks [Rated G, 4568 words, complete, Aftg Then And Now 2023]

Andrew breaks his arm two games into the season and it feels a little bit like Neil’s world snaps with it. (A snapshot of Neil and Andrew between Andrew coming home from the hospital and going back home to Palmetto State.)

tw: major character injury

that's my line by sillyunicorn6154 [Rated G, 1291 words, complete, 2023]

Andrew is definitely not sick. But he is a little stubborn.

You're not fine, but you will be by karmenvi [Not Rated, 616 words, complete, 2023]

Neil is sick, so Andrew takes care of him. So it was supposed to be a sickfic, but it turned into 'Andrew stares at Neil and thinks his boyfriend is the prettiest boy in the world.' Anyway, enjoy some fluff.

I'll be okay if he's here by obsessivereader156 [Not Rated, 1673 words, complete, 2023]

“Thank you, Drew,” Neil says for the twentieth time, feeling so lucky to have someone take care of him. “Say it again and I will kill you.” “You’re just so nice to me,” Neil says a bit deliriously, “I’ve never had someone take care of me when I’m sick.”

If it means losing you, then no by LostMess_24 [Rated T, 6712 words, complete, 2023]

There was something against his hand, a pressure he knew too well, a hand that fit so perfectly against his, making Andrew’s presence known, making Neil’s entire body relax, slowing his breathing a bit. But before Neil could see the man at his side, it hit him. He was starting to feel it, all around him. Those white walls, the mattress he was in, the soft yet old sheets, the pressure on his arm. And finally, unmistakably, the regular and aggressive beeps, signs of a life that was his own. He was in a hospital bed. There’s an accident. Those idiots would do anything and everything to protect each other.

tw: major character injury, tw: car accidents

cause and effect by mistyrie [Rated M, 13107 words, complete, 2023]

"Andrew realized what he was seeing but he couldn’t comprehend it. He didn’t know how to help. There was no enemy to deal with – there was just Neil seizing on the floor and Andrew didn’t know what to do." Neil starts having seizures and Andrew tries to help.

tw: seizures (epilepsy)

how the foxes act when they're sick by @detectivebambam [tumblr, 2024]

headcanons on the foxes and illness

headcanons on Neil getting sick by @24-0z [tumblr, 2022]

Neil doesn't get sick very often, so when he finally catches the bug that had been going around campus, he's suddenly 8 years old again, sweating and trembling with fever

SICK!Neil for my soul. by @satan-in-a-v-neck [tumblr, 2021]

Neil is acting strange. Ask every fox and they'll tell you that for the past three days Neil Josten wasn't acting very Neil Josteny.

tw: vomit

illness/injuries as background event:

The Songs Around Us by doodlingstuff [Rated M, 80075 words, complete, 2022]

The mission was simple: Nathaniel would join Astral Foxes as Neil Josten and make them part of Moriyama Music. In reality, Neil became real, found a home, and fell in love despite his lies. When the Moriyamas send the Butcher to remind Neil of his mission and Andrew's life ends on the line, Neil will have to find a way to escape his fate and bring Andrew back. As he gets closer to losing the man he loves the most, Neil will realize that sometimes, music is the only answer, and others, truth is the only weapon he can use. Another Band!AU. This time extra angsty.

tw: torture, tw: car accident, tw: major character injury, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: panic attacks, tw: violence

NB: find art for this fic by @doodlingstuff here

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babsibabbles · 1 year

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Episode 8 of Andor was probably some of the darkest Star Wars I’ve seen so far.

Andor makes the Empire from the Original Trilogy look like clumsy little puppies.

The mental and physical torture the Empire puts the people through is despicable. The prisoners who are used as work force to build components for the Empires machinery. How they have to pretend it’s a game to make it somewhat bearable although they are afraid to get electro shocks if they don’t perform. And even that is just another form of torture because their good performance doesn’t help others escape from their punishment. And then the Empire dares to say food with flavour is a reward for being worked to the bone. You can see the stand the Empire has on torture when Cassian enters the prison: they will do it just to prove a point, even if you haven’t done anything. But not only that: how Dedra let’s the man she just tortured for information stay in the room a little longer so Bix can see him to make her afraid, to make her break even before they start with her. It’s disgusting. But sadly accurate for how fascism works.

#babsi babbles #andor spoilers #cassian andor #andor #star wars #go and watch andor #tw: torture

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nethhiri · 2 months

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Marooned: Chapter 16

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: Rape, torture, gore, violence

Jetsam

Between ransacking the girls' extra clothes and collecting the pants owed to you, a decent outfit was finally made, complete with undergarments to boot! You had a dark-gray, sleeveless crop top, a pair of green, baggy pants with a lot of pockets, and some old, worn boots. You would have preferred if the pants were waist level. They sat low on your hips. Beggars can't be choosers. Honestly, you were surprised they were small enough to stay up on their own. In anticipation of getting your gun back, you also fastened your holster. You tied your hair back in a low pony to keep it from sticking to your face while you were working.

Currently, you were fixing some knots halfway up in the rigging that weren't up to your standards while the sun beat down on your back. You had been avoiding Killer since yesterday. A few more days and you would be free to do as you wanted.

"That's not your job, Rookie," Wire shouted up at you.

You hopped to the deck with a solid thud. "Do you want the sails to break free? " You folded your arms. "Your deck crew needs work."

Wire looked at you with an unreadable expression. "I'll double check them." He didn't trust you as a person. However, your deck work was immaculate. Wire knew he would probably find that you were right when he checked the ropes later. Even when he wanted to give you a hard time, there were no mistakes to harp on. "Captain requires your attendance in his workshop." Well, there was one mistake. Wire noticed that the knots you used on deck were the kind taught to marines. No pirate he knew tied knots like that. He almost pitied you, knowing you were walking into the lion's den.

Wiping your brow, you knocked on the door to Kid's workshop. You glanced towards Mini, who was sunning herself on the deck. There was a slew of metal tinkling sounds followed by a crash, then after a few curses, the captain's voice told you to come in. Looking around, there wasn't anything amiss. Must have cleaned it up with his Devil Fruit. "What do you want, Eustass? I'm busy keeping this ship afloat, since apparently no one else knows how."

He gave you a funny look. "That so?" He tapped the corner of his workbench where your gunblade and log pose.

Your eyebrows shot up, shocked that he actually gave them back to you. You swapped out the glass eye you made with the log pose, after a quick spit-shine. Setting down the eye and picking up the weapon, you tested it in your hands. "You fucked with it."

"Hah?! I balanced it perfectly! Ya should be thanking me!"

You frowned deeply. "Thanks for fucking it up. That better?" Flicking your wrist, you checked to see if it was loaded. It wasn't. "Didn't even load it for me," you mumbled. You spun it around your finger, nearly losing control. The weight was all wrong. You groaned and rolled your eyes. It was going to take practice to regain your finesse with it. You shoved it back in your holster and looked back at Kid, whose darkened eyes gave you a black look. This was different from other times he's glared at you, with playful, enticing, bright, embers. This made you uneasy. This made all the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your mouth to get dry. It was a foreign feeling, feeling like a prey animal. You were no longer questioning why he gave you back your weapon. It didn't comfort you to have it. What was it going to do against him? He only took it in the first place until he knew you would play nice with his crew.

In a low voice, Kid asked, "How did ya fix Killer's mask?" He rolled the small glass eye around on the table. "And this.. ya made this. How?" He held it under his thumb, crushing it without much of an effort.

Watching your right eye be pulverized under his thumb triggered something in you. Your fists tightened until your nails dug into your skin and your heart was pounding. How many pieces of you had to be destroyed? It was traumatic enough when it had been taken from you the first time. Your teeth clenched so tightly that your jaw popped. The frightened look in your face was replaced with a resolute one. "Why the fuck does it matter?! Nothing about me has anything to do with you or your crew, so stop trying to pry information out of me. All I wanted was to be taken off that island and put on a different one. I didn't do anything wrong! I didn't hurt anyone who didn't deserve it! Fuck sake, did I not save Killer's life? And do you want to know something else? I did it the same way I fixed his mask!"

"Oh, but yer mistaken," Kid taunted, getting up from where he sat and stalking towards you. "Ya did do somethin wrong." He wrapped his hand around your throat, in spite of you trying to block his hand, and pushed you against the door, hard. "Ya lied to Eustass 'Captain' Kid."

You threw a punch at him that was swiftly caught with a scrap of metal. The same thing happened when you tried to kick. "Go to hell! I CAN'T WAIT TO GET OFF THIS FUCKING SHIP!" You spat at him, struggling to get out of his grasp.

Kid's grasp tightened until you saw spots. "YA SPYING MARINE BITCH." The door gave way behind you. In only a matter of steps for him, you were at his mercy over the ocean as he held you by the throat above it. "Ya want off so bad?!" His lip curled. "FINE!" He didn't let go. A flash of uncertainty came across his expression.

"Do it, coward." You had already done this song and dance once before. You weren't scared, disappointed that you didn't get to carry out your revenge, but not scared. It was hard to talk when you were barely getting enough oxygen as it was. "My name is F/N L/N." The brief interval where Kid processed that information was enough to wrap your unrestrained hand around the wrist holding you. There was a yellow flash at the contact and you were falling. Bull-headed until the end, you were going to go on your terms, not anyone else's.

The water hit your back so hard that it seemed to burn your skin. Maybe it had peeled off, the way the chill seeped into your flesh and directly to the bone. Even if you could swim, the way the ocean sapped your energy left you unable to even hold the remainder of air in your lungs, which were already searing their way out of your chest. Silver bubbles pried themselves from between your lips. Less and less light was reaching your eyes as you sunk toward the blackness below. With your last conscious thoughts, you pictured Minerva and hoped they wouldn't hurt her.

You sat in the dark, on a damp floor, breathing heavily, but trying not to. Every labored breath caused blood to seep from the bullet holes in your side. You slipped from consciousness periodically, usually being brought back to something horrible being done to you. Once it was a knife being twisted into one of the bullet holes. Another time it was being kicked in the head, in the gut. Other times your pants were around your ankles and someone was on top of you. They learned quickly to stay away from your mouth, after permanently disfiguring someone's manhood. It was truly a blessing that you couldn't stay conscious for long.

Your skin was more blue and purple than your actual skin tone. And even if there were unbruised areas, they were probably encrusted with the deep maroon color of old, dried blood. It was agony just to roll onto a different side of your body. It was impossible to say how long you had been down there, in the brig of your own ship. It was impossible to say how long your crew had been plotting against you, if or when they were bought off. You had to believe they were bribed somehow. To admit to yourself that maybe they weren't would be devastating. Did they hate you that much? Were they ever truly loyal? You had been asking yourself these questions throughout your misery.

Boot steps echoed in the hallway, getting louder as they approached. The creak of the cell door made you tense, unsure what to expect. You were jerked up by your hair and forced to look at the man in front of you, already made difficult by your nearly swollen shut eyes. It was Von Kossa. He wasn't the mastermind behind the clandestine trading operation you had unwittingly discovered, but he was the meanest of the upper ranking participants.

"You know it's really a shame you're so much trouble." He ran his thumb over your bottom lip. "We could have sold you for a pretty penny," his grip on your hair tightened, bringing tears to your eyes. "But you can't behave and now you're starting to look quite unattractive, so it's not even worth keeping you alive." Keeping a tight hold of your hair, he dragged you through the open cell door and along the wooden floorboards, towards the deck. The wood scraped your skin. You could barely feel it since your body was in a constant state of pain anyway. "Your screams are just so satisfying, I think I'd like to hear them once more before you're gone. How's that sound?"

Your hands and feet were tied so you couldn't struggle, not that you had the will to. "Sounds bad, Captain Fuckass." The hoarseness of your voice startled you. His swift kick to your stomach had you vomiting blood.

"See you just don't know when to quit." He made a noise of disgust. "Look what you've done. Got blood on my uniform." Red specks sprayed the white of his marine uniform.

On deck there was a mix of what appeared to be pirates and marines. You knew now that it was a collection of purely marines. For an instant in time, maybe they had stopped being marines, though they were certainly back to their roots. Von Kossa had intercepted your ship, and you let him. What was unexpected was that the second you made a move to attack, your crew was not behind you. Physically, yes, they were behind you, and about to help subdue you. Figuratively, they stopped being behind you whenever Von Kossa had persuaded them to his side.

He dragged you to a basin with some kind of liquid in it. You didn't want to guess at what it was. You knew you would find out shortly regardless. He lifted you up like a prize-winning fish. "Let this be a lesson to anyone who thinks they can interfere with our business. Even the 'Marine Killer', 'The Sea Snake', or as we know her Ex-Captain F/N L/N was only a mild hindrance. Look at her now: a worthless, ruined, shell of a person." He dropped you to your knees, coming to one knee himself next to you.

The reflection you saw in the liquid was unrecognizable as you. It some other person there, some other person that was getting their head pushed down into it. So why was it you that felt excruciating, white-hot pain on half of your head? Was it the other person screaming or was it you? Your voice was so different, you couldn't tell. The pain vanished as quickly as it had appeared. You saw pieces of skin and floating Y/H/C tendrils in the liquid when you were pulled out, though not for long, as they disintegrated. Blinking, you tried to open your right eye. It was open, you felt with your fingertips. To your horror, it felt sticky, goo-like. There wasn't a lot of time to process what had just happened before blacking out. After that, you only remembered darkness, being cold, and then waking up on an island.

#y'all wanted angst #kid x reader x killer #one piece #massacre soldier killer #eustass kid #marooned #eustass kid x reader #killer x reader #tw: torture #tw: sa #tw: rape #tw: gore

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