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jtl-fics · 1 year

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Fluent Freshman - Part 23

There were a few reasons that Andrew and Neil could not get past reception to go see FF or get updates on his current condition.

The first reason was that visiting hours were long over by the time they had arrived a little after midnight.

The second reason was that hospitals, in general, don’t just give out information on their patients to any random person that walks in and asks for an update on their condition. They are ESPECIALLY hesitant to give out updates on patients when the people who are asking can’t give you anything other than a first name, general description, and the reason that the patient is in the hospital.

Somehow “Completely average looking guy with the last name Smith who was stabbed in the stomach” is not enough for the receptionist to go off of.

“There are multiple people here that fit that description. I would need at least a first and last name before I could even begin to start seeing if you were someone who we even could give updates to. No, I will not continue to play your fun little game of guess the first name.” She says when Andrew opens his mouth to start listing off names alphabetically again.

So now Andrew and Neil found themselves under the watchful eye of a security guard as they sat in the back corner of the front reception area.

“I can’t believe we still don’t know what Smith’s first name is.” Neil says his face is buried in his hands as he and Andrew sit in the uncomfortable chairs trying to figure out where to go from here.

“I think she knows exactly who we want to see.” Andrew scowls towards the receptionist who, long used to the ire of the public, pays him no mind. Andrew just refused to believe that there were that many brown haired, brown eyed, average height and weight guys who had suffered a stab wound to the stomach that would have been admitted in the last two hours.

“I just hope they actually are looking after him and that no one went and forgot about him in an hallway somewhere.” Neil says hands sliding up into his hair to grip.

“That wouldn’t happen.” Andrew dismisses despite knowing that Wymack had ABSOLUTELY forgotten FF at a stadium once during the period where FF had been low presence to keep his family from bothering him.

The U-turn he had pulled had definitely been illegal when FF called and asked where the bus was when they had been on the road for five minutes. Wymack had felt terrible about it but FF had just seemed relieved that the bus had come back for him.

Wymack.

Andrew pulls out his phone and dials a familiar number. Wymack, reliable as always, picks up on the fourth ring with the sound of cursing as he got the phone up to his ear. “What.” He asks and Andrew can hear the sounds of driving and Kevin’s infamously train-like snoring in the background.

“What’s Smith first name. You know it.” Andrew demands.

“Classified.” Wymack clips back immediately.

“I need to know it so that we can get updates.” Andrew hisses.

“He isn’t interested in people knowing it and you wouldn’t be able to get updates anyways.” Wymack dismisses.

“We want to be able to head back to see him.” Neil tries.

“Visiting hours are long over Josten. You know that I’m not settling that bet that you little fuckers have floating around about this.” Wymack responds back.

Andrew grits his teeth and then forces himself to relax his jaw, “It’s not about the bet.” Andrew shuts his eyes in irritation.

That stupid bet.

The betting culture within the Palmetto State Foxes Exy team that Reynold’s had cultivated held strong even after her graduation with the remaining Foxes. The Bet had started when one of the other freshmen had mentioned that it was funny that FF went around like Cher or Madonna. The realization that none of them knew FF’s first name was one that had them placing bets on a multitude of things. Things like: “Do you wanna bet it’s a super normal boring name?”, “Do you wanna bet that it’s a weird foreign name?”, and “Is FF intentionally not giving it out to people or since he goes by his last name normally he has no idea that anything is amiss?” Had lower pools since you were betting on a spectrum. The bet with the highest pool is: “What is FF’s first name”.

Wymack had categorically refused to answer it and all other attempts to discover FF’s first name had been met with frustration. There was a solemn agreement that no one could just go and outright ask him since that would ruin all of the fun. Andrew had agreed to not ask when the team had collectively filled his freezer with ice cream cake and he was a man of his word.

The general belief (after the revelation of his major and the number of languages FF spoke) was that FF’s name was just not easy to pronounce for English speakers.

Andrew hadn’t participated but he know that the Foxes do have a running list of names they know it’s not. (Greg, Will, Smith (again), Matt, Kevin, Neil, Andrew, Aaron, Nathaniel, Jack, Beyonce (Sheena’s drunken guess), Nicholas, John, Fred, Garfield, Frank, Alfred, Augustus, Adam, etc. (Andrew had been trying to guess with the receptionist for a while))

“You’re coming here aren’t you? We can get updates when you get them.” Neil says.

“He’s in emergency surgery right now and will remain there for the next few hours most likely. There’s not going to be any updates hopefully.” Wymack says with a sigh loud enough that they can hear it over Kevin’s snoring.

“Surgery? He needs surgery?” Neil asks sounding surprised s if FF hadn’t been stabbed to the hilt into his stomach with one of Andrew’s knives. He’s about to give Neil some shit for the question before remembering that if there was any person who would think that a stab wound to the stomach wouldn’t necessitate surgery it would be Neil “I’m Fine” Josten.

“Yes Josten, he needs surgery. They have to stitch up his stomach and the surgeons are also going to be dealing with some of the ulcers that were ruptured by the knife.” Wymack explains likely coming to the same conclusion that Andrew had on Neil’s stupid question. “They were a bit worried about him bleeding out but he stabilized before the surgery.” Wymack sighs.

“I’m going the hospital since I’m Smith’s medical proxy. If anything goes wrong with the surgery I want to be there so I can make an informed decision on his care.” Wymack says and… Andrew figured there’d be surgery but to hear it and the possibility that something could go wrong, that the last thing FF had said to him had been something non-sensical about “Gracie Hart wouldn’t have gotten stabbed. I’m Cheryl at best.”as he’d started succumbing to all the blood loss. “If you could stick around long enough for me to drop Kevin off with you I would appreciate it.” Wymack says.

“What if he needs a blood transfusion?” Andrew says.

“Smith is AB-, it’s the second easiest blood type to transfuse into. Go home Andrew.” Wymack repeats.

Andrew works his jaw irritated that there didn’t seem to be a path to getting his way.

“We’ll stay here until you get here.” Andrew agrees, “But you’ll get an update before we leave.” He adds.

Wymack sighs, “Fair enough.” He says before hanging up.

It’s 45 minutes of waiting and tossing a few more name possibilities at the receptionist who seems more amused than anything at their continued attempts to guess their friend’s first name (Neil goes through the entire list of names that he’s gone by and none of them get the thumbs up).

Wymack comes through the doors with a half awake Kevin Day following his steps. “I have another favor to ask you.” Wymack says instead of any form of greeting.

“I’m not going to leave Kevin in the car overnight again. It was just that one time.” Andrew says with a roll of his eyes and honestly he’d been punished enough listening to Kevin bitch, moan, and sneeze for the following week while talking about all the supplements he was taking.

“Not that,” Wymack pauses, “I have two favors to ask you. First don’t do that. Second, would you be able to pick up Smith’s grandma from the airport tomorrow?” He asks.

Andrew blinks.

“She’s coming here?” He asks.

“I updated her on my way here. She booked a flight and will be arriving around noon tomorrow.” Wymack says and Andrew doesn’t know why he’s confused by this. FF’s grandma got him two still warm pies to cheer him up on Thanksgiving.

He’d stabbed that woman’s grandson.

“I’ll pick her up.” He agrees.

Shorter one today

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

Per your requests:

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit @lesbian-blackbeard @lesbiansupernatural @silvermasquerade @thepeachfuzz @minniemariex @kazoo-the-demjin @gaypomegranate @ji-nk-ies @neilimfinejosten @omgrubelangel @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #Might be taking a bit of a break after this post #I wanna figure out the overarching joke of the next part #So FF is under the knife getting stitched up so he doesn't make an in person appearance this chapter #Kevin is coming along with Wymack because he wants to figure out the recovery time and PT FF will need #They were planning on having him be the starting Dealer next season #Honestly he can't BELIEVE that Romero would fuck up his line-up like this #Yes Kevin is aware that he is not the Captain #FF never lets anyone forget who the Captain is #It's Captain Neil #Neil and Andrew try to become close to the receptionist so she will release FF's first name #But god they are both super bad at small talk #Andrew and Neil: So...busy day?#Receptionist: Actually considering the fact its Black Friday it wasn't that bad #Neil: Is it...is it that dangerous? (Thinking about FF this morning)#Receptionist: I've seen body builders get their thigh bones snapped in half by exhausted stay at home moms for a blender you tell me #Neil: Anyone from the (location) Target?#Receptionist: Oh that was a bloodbath didn't you see the news?#The misconception that FF is a cool badass guy continues to grow throughout the Foxes #AFTG #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #AFTG Fic #FF - Pt 23

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melanodis · 8 months

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when i say men should show more chest this is what i mean. michael was SO dedicated to being Tits Out that he made sure NOTHING was covering his chest. at all. not even his chest. i salute him for that. go gayboy go 🫡

i dont think that animatronic has ever been to medical school

#he can actually stitch it back up but i think his ribs are just. very fun to draw #makes him look cool as hell #show off your metal leeched bones yeahhh budddyyyyy #pinning this ask on my wall #michael afton #art.psd #fnaf sl #five nights at freddy's #ask.txt #nineliabilityrisk #body horror #ask to tag #ennard

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grendel-menz · 10 months

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I’m so sorry that so much of my art is hurt/comfort orientated 😭… I love when people are kind to other people and take care of each other regardless of all the horrors it fulfills my heart to draw

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bittertoxicity · 4 months

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Anton doing his job of stitching bonessss

#digtial art #my art #sketchclub #my artwork #clean sketch #quick art #oc #oc artwork #oc art #my oc art #my oc #silly spooky #bones #stitching #just doing his job #working

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moonah-rose · 3 months

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12 year old Sophie: I'm so alone in this stupid country. And now I'm being sent to live in some stinking manor with a boy I don't love. Please, God. Send an angel to watch over me. The nicest angel you have.

-meanwhile at Bone Hall-

Robin: *laughing madly out of loneliness*

#incorrect bbc ghosts quotes #source: lilo and stitch #sophie bone #robin the caveman #bbc ghosts

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daughterofsarenrae · 9 days

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Day 1 progress! Nålbinding a fringed scarf

#nålblogging #i have truly been liberated from the tyrany of knitting. i never have to suffer again.#literally so much more entertaining #all of this is oslo stitch bc its the only stitch i know. so far!#i will learn more after this but tbh the naming conventions of nålbinding stitches scares me #nålbinding #bel speaks #ughhhh i want a bone needle and not this yarn one 😔#like it works but. it's not pretty :(

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bisexualchaosdemon · 6 months

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What if, in tsc, "I've had worse" becomes like Jean's version of "I'm fine"?

#Jeremy would hate it because Jean's played with broken bones and stitches #Jean's idea of “worse” shouldn't be a benchmark for anything #Neil “I'm fine” Josten meet #Jean “I've had worse” Moreau #or maybe #Jean “I'll live” Moreau #Jean “I can still play” Moreau #like Jean buddy you're benchmark for being able to play could still mean you're two second away from dropping dead #Jean says “I've had worse” and not a single person is comforted #aftg #all for the game #jean moreau #tsc #jeremy knox #jerejean #the sunshine court

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sweet-lost-husbands · 11 months

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Seek Forgiveness

Prompt from @marchtothefuckingsea: you all like the trope of character being so delirious from their injuries that they don't realize someone on their team trying to help them, so they fight back, but I offer you: Character, delirious, weakly fighting someone trying to help them, but they finally recognize who it is and they fight even harder.

Hurt/Comfort

I absolutely loved writing this! Hopefully you enjoy reading this, please feel free to give any advice as well.

Word count: 3k on the dot 🫠🫠

Summary: Reader gets hurt on a hunt and she is forced to rely on someone who has hurt her in the past, to save her life.

Warnings: Serious injury, blood, broken bones, extreme gore, restraints, potions, accidental torture?? but only to save her. Reader is scared of Castiel.

No usage of y/n.

Italics are the character's thoughts

It was a simple mistake- and yet an unforgivable one. That was the irony to it.

I limp forward, slowly catching my breath as I walk. I hold my cold hand against my abdomen, Warm blood leaking through the gaps in my fingers and the fabric of my clothes, coating my body like a blanket as gravity beckons it down. I know I needed to put more pressure, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

I take another sharp painful step, when something crashes into my side, and I'm thrown to the unforgiving floor. I hear the snaps before I feel the hot pain that explodes in my ribs. My lungs gasp for a single breath of air but it seems to fall short.

I have been in this situation once before; it gives me back memories I try deeply to forget.

Then something is on me, clawing at my flesh. I recognise that smell anywhere, the blood thirst- the unholiness. A vamp.

I fumble with the machete, begging my numb fingers to work. My heart pounds in my chest and ricochets of skull, so loud that I plead for moment of silence.

My fingers grip around the handle and gain just enough leverage to sever its head with one flick of the wrist.

I collapse backwards, coughing and spluttering as the world spins and blurs. An all too familiar metallic taste erodes my mouth. All my limbs ache with exhaustion. My eyelids feel heavy, and my mind begins to drift into unknown places.

I almost reach the blissful darkness when an agonising burst of pain brings me back. I scream, thrashing against the sudden pressure on my abdomen. My muscles tense and I arch upward, whimpering as the force increases.

Take it away take it away takeitaway

Water brims in my eyes; I twist my hands up and latch around the unknown arm, in a weak attempt to pry it off. My vision smudges and I can't see their face. They take the moment to increase the pressure even more, so that now I'm sure they are pushing their whole weight against it. I let out a strangled cry and can’t stop from writhing beneath them.

Stop it, pleaseee

“Shhhh, I know it hurts.”

I barely make out the words because they are clouded by a layer of fog. Briefly, a feeling of warmth floats over my forehead, then disappears again, followed by some faint muttering.

“Leave. Me. The. Hell. Alone.” I pant, continuing to push at his arms, anything to get away. When all fails, I start to turn in on myself, but he manages to keep me in place.

Please

“Hey, easy, easy, don’t move!”

I can’t.

One hand continues to put too much pressure on the wound while the other starts skimming over my skin, looking for injuries before coming to rest on my shoulder.

“Oh god, your cold. We have to get you out of here.”

Before I can protest, he pulls me into sitting and drapes my arm over his shoulder to support my weight. I let out a weak sob at the movement, doing what little I can to resist. A moment later, I am hoisted up.

It starts with a few steps, but my side screams at me, and I try to double over and lay back on the ground.

“Crap.” I hear him say, as he repositions my arm to keep me standing.

He reaches under my knees and across my back and pulls me into his chest. I weakly shove at it, squirming from the shift in my ribs.

No no no no

“I know, I know.” He says something more, but I don’t mange to make it out.

The next few minutes go by slowly. Each step moves me, and I can't do anything to stop it. At some point my eyes flutter shut. Yes, darkness. But a sharp pain blossoms as he purposely jolts me awake.

I gasp, once again trying to free myself but he only tightens his grip.

“Stay with me. Don’t you dare close your eyes.”

“No....”

“Yes.” His voice is firm like an order. “Yes, and if you don’t, then I'm going to have to force you back again. And you don’t want that do you?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Eventually I feel him ease his arms that secure me and delicately place me down on something soft. Hopefully a bed but I'm too tired to care. Where am I?

Hands glide over my face and cup it. I try to wave them away, but they don’t budge. A blurry figure is pulled into my eyesight and just for a second, I am able to focus enough to recognise the face. Cas.

Damn it, I should have realised earlier. Not him. Anyone but him. He’s going to hurt me again.

Suddenly I pull every tendril of remaining energy from my body to fight his grasp and propel myself away. The cool floor meets my face and I scramble weakly along it. Whimpering and curling up in a ball, tears adding to the already blood-soaked floor as my limbs finally give out. I’m aware that I'm shivering but its only when I look ahead and see a mirror, do I realise how pale I actually am.

A finger taps my shoulder, and I can sense his presence next to me.

Please don’t hurt me

“Go away!” My voice strains.

“You know I can’t do that.” He brushes a stray strand of hair from my face and forces our eyes to meet. It almost catches me off guard; I see something there that I have never seen before. Pleading.

Why?

“Don’t you dare.” I whisper but he ignores me and tries to slide his fingers to the hem of my shirt. I bat his hands away once more.

“Stop fighting me!” His head is tilted in pure concern.

Why does he care, why is he different?

I start to mumble a response, but a coughing fit quickly wracks my torso. Cas acts quickly, bringing my head up to rest on his lap until it subsides. From there, he lifts me onto the bed and lays me out flat, which I instinctively start to curl.

“I can’t heal you but let me help.”

“No, g’t aw’y fr’m me. Anyth’ng b’t your help.” I slur.

“Okay.” His voice is laced with remorse and heartbreak. “Then you leave me no choice.”

First, he grasps my arm and gently tugs it away from me, securing it with rope; the next is my other hand and then both my legs, until I am fully outstretched. I almost can’t stand it; the pain intensifies. I feebly yank on the restraints, trying to get free myself, but they are unyielding.

I only notice that Cas had left the room when he returns, holding a med kit. He sets it down on the bed-side table and starts taking things out and positioning them in a certain way. “I’m sorry but I’ve already caused you enough pain and if you die and I had a chance to save you......” He trails off. “I won't be able to forgive myself.”

He pauses, taking out a wad of gauze and a bottle of alcohol.

In the haze, I almost miss the stray tear making its way down his cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You d’d.” I rasp, narrowing my vision on what he is doing, with an expression of horror on my face. Don’t put me through more pain, just let me go, why can't he let me go? Surely, he can see that I don’t want this. Surely.

I pull at the restraints again.

“I know.” He purposely hides his face so I can’t see the sadness in his eyes, “And yes, while it may have been true that I was under a spell and couldn’t help it; I am sorry. I will do anything to make up to you, but first let me help.”

Nothing manages to leave my throat as he turns back to me. Was that true? Was it not his fault? I feel the blood drain from my face. Last time he had tortured me and left me for dead, I was lucky that Dean made it to me in time. After that I became a hunter to stop things like what happened to me. But maybe Cas wasn’t a monster- not anymore.

“Stay still.” He says and gives me a sad smile; like he hates what he is about to do. I feel his gentle fingers at the hem of my crimson-soaked shirt, and he carefully lifts it up.

He grabs a few things. “This will hurt...... I am truly sorry.”

There is a slap of elastic gloves being put on and then he nears. I feel as he places one hand a couple of inches above the wound, which I realise is to keep me in place.

The moment the alcohol-soaked gauze skims over my tender skin, I screech, lashing out, fighting the rope bound around me. It burns like my whole abdomen is lit aflame.

Can’t get free can’t get free cantgetfree

My body trembles as Castiel begins to push it in further to clean it. I struggle against him, pushing back into the bed as much as I can, but it doesn’t help. Nothing stops him from taking his time to thoroughly sterilise it. I jerk at every movement of the gauze- back and forth, pushing in the skin, not failing to get right into the corner. Each inch forcing it way through my tender flesh. I cry from the pain, still tugging at the restraints and recoiling against Cas’s hands, completely helpless to free myself.

“Easy, easy, almost done.” He says as he wipes the wound one last time and pulls away.

Sweat trickles down my forehead and I visually relax, panting.

“I’m sorry but that had to be done.” He says over his shoulder as he fiddles with something else in the med kit. “Dean and Sam will be here by tomorrow evening, but you’ll bleed out long before they get here; I'm going to have to stitch it.”

“Nooooo pleaseeee.” I whine.

He lays a comforting hand on my shoulder and starts rubbing soothing circles. “Trust me, I don’t want to do this either. I would give anything not to have to hurt you again.” The way his words quiver like there is a lump in his throat, sells the line.

He waits a little longer and then lets my shoulder go and brings the needle and thread to the bed-side table.

“C-cold.” I stutter.

“I’ll get you a blanket once this is done.”

Castiel places the same hand on my chest again but this time, he applies a little more pressure. “Don’t move if you can help it, it could cause me to stitch all wonky. I know this isn’t ideal, but we can’t waste any more time. Please forgive me.”

I flinch the first time the needle pricks my pale skin, then still. I stifle my groan which soon turns into a quiet sob as he continues relentlessly. I am barely aware of him muttering hush apologies to me at every groan, cry and beg.

The pain expands though my side with each new stitch, constantly lingering. I try to focus on the ceiling, but it doesn’t distract much, since there is no way to not feel the movement of the needle. God I hate needles.

"Stop tensing the area I'm trying to stitch." Cas orders and clamps his hand down a little more.

“Yeah, well if you, AAGH.” He hits the spot which is the deepest and it causes me to jump.

“I told you to stop moving!”

I nod and clench my hands until the knuckles are white, to stop myself from wriggling.

“You know,” He starts his next stitch and pinches the skin together, ignoring my wince. “You are quite remarkable; a thousand others would’ve passed out long before this step.” He threads it through and ties it.

My skin is so tight around the wound, and it feels like a white-hot sting that won’t go away.

“Holy Shit!” I swear, as a sudden burning rushes through the wound. He puts the alcohol on the table and gives be an apologetic smile. "You could have warned for that."

He shrugs. "Sam says it’s better without a warning."

I whimper as he places a large bandage over the top and starts clearing everything away.

“It’s done for the time being.” He comforts, and lightly kisses me on the forehead. “You can sleep now.”

I feel my head finally lull to the side and I allow myself to drift off.

When I open my eyes, my head throbs and the world spins. I see Cas and for an instant my mind takes me right back to when he was a monster, and I bolt up.

He rushes to my side and to pushes me down with his angel strength.

“Hey, hey, it’s just me. Slow down.”

I relax in his arms once I realise.

“There.” He soothes, shifting so that I am lying flat, but his voice soon turns serious. “Stunts like that could tear your stitches.” He peels the bandage back and takes a look. “But thankfully it hasn’t.”

He pulls the blanket back over me and carefully holds a glass of water to my lips. “Slow.” He says and tilts it a little.

I hadn’t realised how thirsty I was and start to lap it up. He pulls away and I chase after it, but he continues to hold my clamp down on my shoulder with one hand.

“Slow.” He repeats and brings the cup back. I do what as he says until it's gone.

I wiggle my feet enough to find that he must have taken the restraints off while I was out.

He takes a seat next to the bed and squeezes my hand. It's so warm.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I've been stabbed.”

Cas smiles. “How do you really feel?”

I sigh. “Tired, everything hurts.”

“I’d assume that’s normal considering what you’ve been through.” He tilts his head towards my ribs. “When you're ready, I need to take a look, okay?”

I swallow thickly. “Okay.” I chastise myself at how the words break in my throat, I know he's only trying to help.

A shudder escapes my lips as Cas’s warm fingers skim over my ribs. I hold back a choked cry as he presses into them, testing the bones. By the time he finishes, I am as far away from him as the bed allows.

“A couple are broken; I'll go get you an icepack.”

When he re-enters and positions the icepack over my sides, his face has saddened like he isn’t telling me something.

“What is it?” I ask.

He doesn’t hold back. “There’s been a slight delay with Sam and Dean, they won’t be here for a few more days. We are in a small cabin out in the woods, it's not safe here. The vampire's that did this to you could be back with the rest of the nest.”

“Oh.” I manage to say.

He wipes a finger over my face to stop the tears. “We need to leave but we can’t do that with the condition you're in now. And I can’t heal you because they used a blade warded against angels.”

“So, what do we do?” I take his hand and intertwine our fingers.

“You know I don’t want to put you in more pain than I have to.” I can feel him shaking now; he's scared.

“Cas.” My tone is slightly louder than I wanted.

There's a pause. He readjusts his trench coat like its uncomfortable. “There may be a healing spell that could help but I'm told that the procedure will be...... unpleasant, to say the least.”

His whole face screams regret but I surprise him with my answer. “Do it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah..... I trust you.”

“Okay.” Cas says, more to himself than me. He places the neon purple potion on the table and undoes his belt. “Open,” he commands, “It should help with the pain.”

I reluctantly take in the leather and bite down.

“I have to restrain you now. If you mess with the potion even a little, it could prove faulty and there is no way in hell, I'm putting you through this twice.”

I give a slight nod and he starts tying my limbs with rope. I get more scared by the second, I can already hear the rhythmic beat of my heart. This time he also adds some rope over my thighs and chest so I can move even less than before.

Once he’s finished, he fetches the potion and hovers over me.

“If you have somewhere you find soothing, go there in your mind.”

Then he begins, first removing the bandage to expose the wound then pours it in.

A blazing burst of pain explodes through my body, everything feels like it's on fire. Then his hands are on me, rubbing it as deep into the wound as possible while I strain and fight to get away from the hands that are hurting me. He manages to shove it through the gaps in the stitches so it can travel deeper. I scream and cry around the belt, every muscle tensed so much that it cramps. I can feel as every rib welds itself together and every cell in the wound presses until it's all combined.

When all the pain finally simmers, relief washes over me. Cas whispers comforting words and praise as he undoes the restraints and pulls me into a hug. I am too weak to resist the movement, but I don’t want to, its sweet and warm. He saved me.

“You did so well,” He soothes. “I am so proud of you. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I answer simply, “I am now, and I forgive you.”

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utterlybrainwrecked · 14 days

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assorted femtanyl doodles!! spoilered for a lot of stuff (see tags)

#cw blood #cw knife #cw knives #cw injury #cw needles #cw brain #cw exposed bone #cw stitches #keplers art #kepdoesthings!!#femtanyl #cw drugs

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mirajikan · 1 year

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Don’t leave him...

#i'll make another one probably #toh #the owl house #art #platinum bones #king clawthorne #the collector #the collector toh #lilo and stitch #my art

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astral-schools · 7 months

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YOU BETTER GET READY TO DIE !!!!!

#w101 #w101 fandom #wizard101 #wizard101 fandom #w101 oc #wizard101 oc #oc: finny #sal art #FINALLY DREW HIS ARC 4 FIT #i decided after his villain arc he changed clothes and got a new weapon #for most of arc 3 i was. technically using the cabal banner which i think is funny #and then i had darkmoor gear for a while #but now i have everything stitched to this slay outfit #oh the bit on his scythe is not a mantis skull btw. they dont have bones #its a carapace :] shed shell #giving him rainbow hair was a mistake its such a pain to draw #he looks fire tho

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jwbbcg · 6 months

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#I heard this song earlier and thought it would fit these guys more or less #I’m emotionally preparing for the last episode by revisiting the most painful clips of the entire show and stitching them all together!#Makes sense #bbc ghosts the captain #bbc ghosts pat #bbc ghosts edit #bbc ghosts #ghosts uk #humphrey bone #thomas thorne #the thomas thorne affair #redding weddy #the captain #my edit #ghosts edit

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sunshiline-writes · 8 months

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Drabble: Good Dolls Don't Dream

More fucked up Drabble time from Sunny!!! uhh yeah this one's rough stay safe and heed warnings. CW: DEAD DOVE DON'T EAT, GORE, noncon body modifications (so so many), wire's through hands, stress positions, mentions of kidnapping, broken legs, whumpee is thought of and called a "doll" and "thing", stitching a person's mouth closed, some mouth gore I THINK I GOT EVERYTHING but if I didn't just let me know!

Eyelids fluttering, breaths came in short gasps as whumpee slept. Whumper always enjoyed watching Whumpee sleep. They were always so beautiful. But today they were immaculate, strung up against the wall like this. Hands above their head held up by the wire through their hands. The sight was beautiful, the wire wrapping from the hole in their palms between each finger, creating an intricate pattern as it weaved in and out of their hand.

Whumper had worked very hard to get the designs just right. The carvings in their skin, the wig stitched on, through their scalp. That was the worst part getting them to stay still enough to let them move the needle through the scalp. Then they had to start over because Whumpee had moved so much that the wig had gone on crooked.

They always knew how to make things so difficult. Whumpee made a noise as their eyes fluttered open. Their eyes looked at them blearily. Whumper carded a hand through the fake hair on their head pulling the stitches lightly. They were a bit angry and red at the edge of their scalp, Whumper would fix that later.

“Are you ready to be let down now darling?”

Whumpee let out a choked whine before answering. “Please.. I’m so tired.”

Whumper unhooked the chain that held the wires through Whumpee’s hand and let whumpee fall into them. Gently picking them up bridal style and carrying them to the bed. A mattress in the corner of the basement, and lays them down. They whimper as their legs are straightened and the blanket is put to their shoulders. Whumpee’s legs still look wrong after the last time Whumper broke them. They hated to do that, it ruined the perfectness of their little doll. But it had to be done after they had tried to escape a third time. They had let the legs heal the wrong way. Making sure there was never an attempt like that again. Dolls didn’t need to run or walk anyway. Dolls just needed to sit there and look pretty. Boy, was whumpee pretty. They had big brown eyes that shone when they cried, beautiful skin, their hair was the only thing that had been awful when they acquired the little thing. It used to be dyed a bright green color, now they had the beautiful black wig that was connected to their scalp. They were nearly perfect now. So close.

“Can you tell me what you did wrong? Why you were punished?” Whumpee whimpered as Whumper gave a little tug on the wig, again pulling at the stitches on their scalp. “I-I.. said.. I wanted.. to go home..” they answered between sniffles and sharp breaths.

“Mmhmm, and why was that wrong?” “Because… Because I am home..” “Good. Good. You know you’re nearly perfect,” Whumper, rubbed light circles on Whumpee’s back, sighing. “Just one last punishment. It’s not forever. You just need to learn not to say those types of things to me.” Whumpee stared up at them with wide eyes, tears filling them again. God they were so pretty when they were scared.

“It.. It was just a stupid.. a stupid dream..” Whumpee tried to bargain with them. Whumper smiled softly, a finger placed on Whumpee’s lips. “Good Dolls don’t dream love.”

Whumpee whimpered again, whumper stood up and left for a moment before returning with a shoe box. It was filled with different colors of thread and needles. They pulled out a needle and a purple thread. “I think purple would really make your eyes pop, don’t you agree?” They didn’t expect an answer as they set up the thread through the needle. “If you move I might rip more of your skin that what’s necessary, so try and stay as still as possible okay?” Whumpee pushed themselves away from Whumper as they straddled the younger person. Laughing a little, whumper shook their head. “You still need some work. That’s okay. I am very patient.” “No no no, please wait. I’ll be good. I’ll take the muzzle, I’ll wear the ball gag like you wanted earlier. Please,” a whimper as whumper brought the needle closer to their bottom lip. “PLEASE!!” They screamed out next. Whumper huffed and slapped Whumpee hard, “shut up and keep your mouth closed or I’ll make this worse. I’ll let you go a week with these in instead of just the rest of the day, understand? Nod if you understand.” Whumpee nodded slowly, sobbing softly as their lips pouted. Whumper laughed, tapping their cheek lovingly, “Just do what I say and you’ll be just fine love.” Then they pushed the needle through the bottom right corner of Whumpee’s mouth, and as the little doll cried out, Whumper grabbed their tongue with a gloved hand. Then they brought the needle through the tip of their tongue. Whumpee screamed and then quickly clamped their mouth shut as the needle was put through their upper lip. Whumper smiled as they saw blood drip down their lips and chin, gently wiping it away. “Good. Yes the purple looks very good on you. I should put you in purple more often.” Then they pressed the needle into their bottom lip again, repeating the process save for the tongue. They watched hungrily as Whumpee clenched their fists and sobbed quietly. By the time they had tied off the last of the stitch, Whumpee’s eyes had a glazed over look. “God you’re beautiful,” whumper whispered, pressing a kiss to Whumpee’s stitched lips, licking the droplets of blood that had collected on their lips. “The perfect little doll.”

Whumpee sobbed harder

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Drabble taglist: @painsandconfusion ask if you'd like to be added or removed!!

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