#tw: bleeding
Text
here's something to take a spooky little detour from constantly talking about Laserhawk. I actually drew these a while ago after a discussion on Discord about Rayman.exe creepypasta. The suggestion came up that Rayman already has a spooky, unexplained doppelgänger in game cannon, the mysterious 'Dark Rayman' skin from Rayman M.
This gave me the inspiration to draw up some nightmare style versions of the character. What if those bright red fists and pupilless eyes of his weren't just an aesthetic, what if they oozed hyper realistic blood? Just like any good creepypasta monster should ;D
And what if this creature's only desire was to run, to race, to CHASE.
Anywho, hope you all have a safe and suitably spooky season, and be sure to tidy up after yourselves ;)
217 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hi, I love your art. I wanted to ask you about your hunt vs hunted AU. What would Eddie and Frank's first interaction be like? If you don't mind me asking?
Tw! Slight bleeding
Don't you just hate it when you're on the run from cops but find a dying cop in your front doorstep
And you're a doctor so you can't not help the guy because then that would be very undoctorly of you.
(this happened before the present storyline when Frank was still running away from the cops)
#welcome home#welcome home fanart#welcome home frank#frank frankly#welcome home eddie#eddie dear#welcome home Hunt vs. Hunted AU#welcome home vampire wally AU#meet cute but one of them is dying cop and the other is a wanted criminal#digital art#my art#eeart#nomi arts#tw: bleeding
331 notes
·
View notes
Text
Credit: Scott Lesh
#orange cassidy#aew#aew all out#freshly squeezed#all elite wrestling#freshly squeezed orange cassidy#insert joke about being beaten to a pulp#this was right after the show went off air#wrestling#tw: blood#tw: violence#tw: bleeding
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Be The Match Registry
Hey Y'all!
I normally don't use this platform to promote specific causes, but I can say with absolute confidence that the following organization is a worthwhile pursuit:
BE THE MATCH
For the thousands of people diagnosed every year with life-threatening blood cancers like leukemia and lymphoma, a cure exists. Over the past 30 years Be The Match®, operated by the National Marrow Donor Program® (NMDP), has managed the most diverse registry in the world. We work every day to save lives through transplant.
There are two types of donations that you can provide to Be The Match: Stem Cell and Bone Marrow. Both stem cell and bone marrow donations will be shipped immediately to a person in need. As we speak, I'm having my stem cells extracted at their Houston branch! ^_^
Be The Match requires a quick and easy cheek swab to add you to its registry. You never know when you'll get the call saying that you're needed. I registered with them in 2014 and wasn't called til July this year. The entire process, from medical check-ups to transportation to hotel, was covered by the organization. It has been a wonderful and supportive experience. ^_^
I would also like to add that the registry has a shortage of PoC donors, especially those of APIN (Asian/Pacific Islander/Native) descent. It goes without saying that ATLAculture is a blog invested in the preservation and well-being of APIN peoples, both culturally and physically. So, to any followers of APIN descent and in good health, please seriously consider joining the Be The Match registry!
Feel free to message me or reblog this post with any questions you may have, because I'm going to be sitting here for 4 more hours, haha.
145 notes
·
View notes
Text
Save Me From The Storm: Part One/? - A Hypothermia Miniseries
*I want to make OCs specific to this miniseries, as none of my current OCs really fit these tropes the way I want them to. In a follow-up, I'll give them names with a key at the beginning including names & pronouns*
Whumpee frowned as the gray sky let a stray snowflake land on their face. They'd spent most of the morning out here in the woods, looking for that stupid bird's nest. A had wanted Whumpee to mark its location with flagging tape for them so they could find it again for surveys, as the last time they were out in the woods, A had gotten lost, and Caretaker had needed to send out a search party to find them.
Though as Whumpee looked around the forest, they couldn't blame them. This part of the woods was nearly impossible to navigate, and with the lack of sunlight, it was difficult to see which path led where.
Whumpee shook their head. This was getting pointless. The sky smelt like a storm, and they weren't one to ignore their instincts. They started making their way back towards the entrance of the forest.
They barely had time to scream as their ankle connected with the gnarled root, sending them sprawling to the ground. Their head collided with a small rock, the impact sending them reeling.
They blinked slowly, grimacing as they pressed a hand to their head. Their fingers came away bloody, and they winced at the flash of pain. Whumpee sat upright, struggling to stand. The moment they put weight on their ankle, they cursed filthily. They definitely sprained it, and they wouldn't be surprised if they did a number on their head too.
Using a nearby tree to help them up, they struggled to reorient themself. Which way had they come in again?
As the snow began to dust the forest floor, Whumpee found themself limping at an agonizing pace, occasionally calling out for Caretaker as their blood stained the white snow red.
***
A burst into Caretaker's room, eyes blown wide. "A, what is it?"
"I sent Whumpee our looking for that nest for me this morning, and they haven't come back yet."
Caretaker's heart skipped a beat as they looked to the blizzard outside. They grabbed their coat and made their way to the door. "Come on, A, let's go find them."
'Hang in there, Whumpee. I'll be there soon.'
#whump#whump prompt#whump drabble#tw: bleeding#tw: concussion#tw: head injury#tw: storm#tw: blizzard#tw: lost#tw: injury#tw: sprained ankle#tw: fear#tw: worry#worried caretaker#caretaker#caretaker x whumpee#stoic whumpee
19 notes
·
View notes
Text
Death is in the Details - Our Flag Means Death (Post Season 1 fic) Part 6 Complete
Summary: Blackbeard succeeds in hunting down the Gentleman Pirate. Izzy Hands loses his temper. Blackbeard finally gets the answers he didn't think he would ever get.
Final Chapter.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 (Ao3)
Author’s Note: Thanks again for sticking around and reading.
I know Izzy will probably have a big role in the show still, but I just had to do it. I never really give up on a fic. I just get distracted (sometimes for a very long time). New season is soon, maybe I'll get some inspiration. Or let me know what you want to see.
wordcount: 3k+
Warnings: Violence, anger, betrayal, sword fighting, stabbing, blood, death (the typical pirate stuff), doubt, guilt, pain
Blackbeard storms into the deck of the ship Stede and his crew commandeered. He remains stoic as he passes a few members of the crew he had basically sentenced to death for no other reason than Ed was heartbroken, and it made his heart hurt to see so many people that were so inextricably linked to Stede Bonnet. But no matter how much he had tried to prepare himself to see the Gentleman Pirate, it did little to prepare him for actually seeing him. He stopped in his tracks as Stede came up from below deck. And it was like his chest was too small and his insides too big. His chest hurt in a way he had only felt a few times. And almost always having to do with Stede fucking Bonnet. The last time had been when he was directed to the grave he was told bared Stede's name. It had overwhelmed him then. He could still vividly remember it. The groundskeeper had also pointed out the Badminton brothers' comically large monument of a headstone as he recounted the tale of Stede Bonnet and the brothers. He'd taken his anger out on the Badminton's graves. Then Ed had felt grief and anger, as he often had in life. But now, he wasn't sure what he was feeling. Grief at the chance he had lost that night at the dock. Anger at Stede for breaking his heart. Relief that Stede was still very much alive and he had found him. His attempts to figure out his emotions were interrupted by his first mate shouting.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Izzy Hands snaps when he lays eyes on the Stede Bonnet. "Why won't you fucking stay dead?!" the mate's anger boils over as he lashes out with his blade. He repeatedly strikes at Stede, but his anger makes him sloppy, and Stede was managing to hold his own.
Initially, Ed finds it a bit amusing how furious Izzy is and how Stede seems to do what Stede does best. Manages to make the best of the worst, but the longer it goes on, the more desperate Izzy seems to get. And when Izzy landed a decent blow that Stede managed to mostly block but sliced open Stede's forearm, that was too much. That was when something in Edward Teach broke. Like before, the idea of watching Stede die, especially after genuinely thinking he was dead for a time, gripped Ed's heart. Fear. He hadn't truly felt it since Stede had faced the firing squad. His petty anger at being abandoned was outweighed by the idea that Izzy might not only ruin his chance to know what really happened that night at the dock but also take away the hope that still lives deep in Ed's chest. The hope that Stede didn't leave him by choice. That Mary had been telling the truth when she said Stede had loved him. He just didn't know what love actually was. He couldn't just do nothing. As Stede went to try and block another blow, his arm bleeding from where the blade had grazed his flesh, Ed was there, his own blade blocking his first mates.
"You've made your point, Izzy," Ed says.
"You defend him after he fucking abandoned you. You told me yourself you'd-"
"I did not," Stede says. "I was going to meet you, Ed, I swear, but Chauncey-"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Izzy snapped as he attempted to get past Ed to kill Stede, but the pirate captain wasn't having it. Especially when he had interrupted Stede when he was telling Ed exactly what Ed had wanted to know. With a swift movement, he frees his blade and makes quick work of getting the upper hand over his emotional first mate. He draws on every ounce of his Blackbeard mentality as he does. And with little resistance, disarms the first mate.
"You disobey me?" Blackbeard challenges. "You, Israel Hands, have betrayed me. Questioned my command, and you forgot your place." The Captain backs the unarmed man against the railing. "Now, you turn on me again. I have grown tired of your attitude. I let you live because I had so few crew members left. But you make a mockery of me. It's time you pay for your actions."
"Ed," Stede goes to try and reason with him because betrayal aside, Izzy had been Ed's friend. He shouldn't have to be the one to do it. But Blackbeard doesn't show mercy, and he has already let this traitor live far too long. One flick of the blade, and he cuts Izzy across the face. Then he drives his blade through his shoulder.
The crew watches in shock as Blackbeard stalks forward and gets in Izzy's bloody face. "I should have made you eat more than your toe," Blackbeard states. "I should kill you slowly and painfully, make you pay for every betrayal, but I have more pressing matters." Ed draws back and runs him through again. "Don't worry, Izzy. I'll see you again in hell." With that, Ed shoves him over the railing and into the harsh waters of the sea.
He turns around and takes in the shocked faces of both his crew and Stede's. They see a look of determination on the Kraken's face. He doesn't miss the way Frenchie and Jim have joined their friends.
"Those who question me from here on will join him, understood!" Blackbeard states. "Mutiny, betrayal." He looks at both crews. "Once more, you will pay with your life. I AM your captain. If you don't agree, this is your only chance." He gestures to the ship he stood on as he heads towards his own but stops. "Leave now, but if you do and you betray me, I will hunt you down, and you will beg for death." He looks at Stede's crew. "Your survival shows you have more guts than I expected. Consider yourself lucky."
"About that," Stede starts to say, but before he can continue, Ed turns his focus on him, and it's like when he first saw the truly intimidating part of Blackbeard.
"You," the legendary pirate says. The crews silently watch as Blackbeard crosses over to get in Stede's face before heading back to his transport. A handful of the crew follow him. Stede is quick after him. Most of the crew, practically all, makes their way back to the Revenge for lack of knowing what else to do for now. It didn't seem like either boat would be going anywhere quite yet. One barely had a crew, and the other they had very little attachment to. Their goal had always been to get back to their original one.
"Ed," Stede starts, but an angry noise accompanied by the man's blade stops him.
"Blackbeard," Stede corrects, even if it feels wrong. "I can explain." Blackbeard gets in his space again.
Most of Stede's crew steps away to be out of the blade's reach. All but Jim and Frenchie.
"Don't be a fucking idiot," Jim hisses before going to join Olu and the others.
"Pretty sure they mean that to both of you," Frenchie says. "Glad you're not dead, Stede." He looks at Blackbeard. "If you kill him, at least show him the drawing first." Blackbeard glares at him. But nods. The musician/scribe/confidant pats the so-called gentlemen pirate on the shoulder, earning a slight wince. The fearsome pirate looks down at the blood still dripping from Stede's torn sleeve.
He looks over at Jim and then at both crews.
"Get back to work!" He practically barks at the crew before dragging Stede toward the cabin. He isn't exactly gentle with the gentleman pirate as he drags him to the quarters they once shared. There is an uneasy air in the room as both pirates stare at each other. The awkward silence is broken as Frenchie comes in.
"Roach said you might need these," Frenchie sets down a tray with a bowl of water and some cloth and looks at Stede. "For your arm." The man then leaves because he does not want to be drawn into that mess any more than he already is. With the momentary distraction gone, the two men look back at each other. Stede Bonnet sighs. He has to fix this. He loved Ed. He knew that now. He had to say something.
"I know you're angry, and that's understandable, but did you have to take it out on my crew? I still can't believe you-" Stede stops when he finally looks away from the man he loves and takes in the state of the cabin he designed. "Ed…"
Ed has to look away because Stede looks so concerned. So caring as he looked back at Ed that it did funny things to the pirate's cold heart. He looks at the tray and the supplies Frenchie had brought him. He goes over and retrieves a bottle of rum from the desk. He takes a long pull off the bottle in an attempt to soothe his demons.
"Tell me what happened that night before I change my mind," he says as he shoves Stede down in a chair. Stede goes without a fight. Ed is almost shocked when Stede doesn't even flinch when Ed bares a knife and cuts away the torn and bloody sleeve. Ed was surprised that Stede didn't even lament the loss of a good shirt. And Stede clearly still trusted Ed if he didn't even bat an eye at the idea of an angry Blackbeard having a knife so close. Ed could kill him in several ways from the way Stede is just sitting there, looking up at him. And again, his chest feels too small, too tight for his body, but still somehow cold and empty.
"As I said before, I didn't intend to leave you, I didn't have much choice. Chauncey came for me before your guard did." He explains the whole thing, and Ed doesn't say a single word the whole time. His face was an unreadable expression masking his internal turmoil. Even as Stede goes over the parts, Ed already knows. The parts he had heard from Mary Bonnet herself.
"He loves you, you know," she had told him. "Find him, Ed. He is looking for you." And now he had found him. But Stede is still talking, and Ed focuses back on that because that is what he needs to know.
"Even if I had a way to find the guard, to get to you, it was too dangerous. Chauncey was dead. I didn't do it, but they wouldn't believe me. If they had followed me, I would have led them to you, and I…I couldn't risk it. And I needed to make things right. I have made so many mistakes. And I didn't realize…Nothing I can say could ever tell you how sorry I am. You weren't you, not really, in that place. You didn't even care about your beard." Stede says sadly before gesturing at Ed's gray beard with a slight grin. "Grown back nicely, I'd say."
And Ed isn't sure what he is feeling. Or even how to process what he had just been told. He abruptly stood and pulled the now slightly worn paper Mary had given him.
"I'm sure Stede would want to see it," she had told him. He had kept his word now. He owed them nothing. Stede had gone to her instead of him. But he kept it. And thinking about it now, he knows it's because she had given him hope. Hope that his life wasn't the rage and darkness of the Karken and nothing more. Hope that Stede hadn't chosen her over Ed because here Stede was with him and not her—all the effort Stede had made to get back to where they were.
"From your wife," Ed states and hands the paper to Stede.
"My…my wife?" Stede is confused as he unfolds the paper and sees the slightly worn but clear-as-day drawing of the leopard that belonged to the widow Evelyn Higgins, the little signature at the bottom being his son's. And as much as it tugs at his heart, he knows he will probably never see his son again. He knew it was the way it should be. He didn't even understand how he was even looking at this drawing now. "You went to-"
"I needed answers," Ed states.
"Did you get them?"
"Some, but I got far more questions than answers," Ed admits.
"For me?" Stede asks, earning an annoyed glare from the tired captain.
"For the cat," the loathsome pirate deadpans, "of fucking course for you!"
"Alright, that was probably a given," Stede admits, his unease showing in exaggerated gestures swinging the drawing around. "But I told you, it was never my intention to-"
Ed curses and grabs Stede's injured arm so the foolish man won't make it worse as he moves. "You're bleeding all over my ship," Ed states.
"Our ship," Stede corrects. Ed pointedly ignores him as he sets the booze down and starts to clean up the bloody wound on Stede's arm. "Ed, what questions do you still have?"
"I wanted to know why you didn't come to the dock. I wanted to know why you chose her over me. I wanted to know if I had been wrong. To know if I was sitting on the docks while you needed me. Could I have done anything differently?"
"Well, I told you why I didn't go to the docks. I didn't choose Mary over you. I just needed to make things right with my family. My children. And Mary, she didn't need me. She never really did. She didn't love me. Not sure even my parents did. Or anyone." Stede says sadly. He looks at the drawing by his son. And that pains Ed because Ed knows he wasn't loved as a child. He always had known. But he had known love to an extent.
"Your daughter wanted me to tell you she still has half of the orange," Ed says.
Stede sets the drawing aside and looks at him. Stede can't bring himself to say anything to that. He just thinks about his half of the orange that is safe in the few things he had. He just hoped that some of the crew would take the boat. He hoped someone had at least grabbed them for him. He hoped Olu or Buttons would have the forethought to do so. But there wasn't much he could do right now.
"Your home was nice," Ed says. And Stede nods.
"That was Mary's doing. She made it more of a home than I ever could."
"Is that why you left them everything?"
"Considering what all I had taken from her when I left, it was owed. I was a fool. A selfish fool. I can see that now."
"What changed?" Ed genuinely asks.
"You," Stede says. And Ed's hand stills where he had carefully cleaned the dried blood on Stede's arm. Because he had doubts since that night that he had any real impact on Stede's life, to hear it put so bluntly was jarring. He distracted himself by using the rum to rinse the cleaned wound. Stede winced as he did.
"Sorry," Ed mumbled.
"I'm the sorry one," Stede says, putting his free hand over Ed's as he wraps a bandage around his arm. "I know I hurt you, and I know I can never truly take that hurt back. But I wanted to make things right here, too. I know I will never see my family again. And I'm okay with that, so long as I have you. If you'll have me still. I don't need to-"
He's cut off when Ed knocks him back against the seat with a kiss because Ed had missed Stede more than he had ever missed anyone.
"Wait, wait," Stede pulls away, leaving a confused Ed to wonder if he was wrong again. The pirate's annoyance grows at the possibility of rejection, but Stede just smiles and grips the other man's face. "I didn't even tell you the best part."
"Was it the fuckery? Because your wife said, it was exactly as you planned it."
"She did? Wait, no, that's not," Stede laughs. "It was a good show. You'd have loved it."
"I don't think I would have. You nearly die far too often," Ed points out.
"Fair enough," Stede nods.
"You were saying?" Ed prompts him. He didn't even mind that Stede still had a hold of his face. Stede was laughing and smiling as Ed's world had righted itself. That the warmth he had so greatly missed was back, and it wasn't just the warmth of the man's hands on his face. It was like the sun coming out after a storm.
"Right, yes," Stede nods again. "I realized that I had been selfish because I wanted to run off with you. More than I had ever wanted to be a pirate. And trust me, I had wanted that more than anything. I would spend the rest of my life in the run from the crown, to spend with you. I was even willing to risk you or Izzy Hands killing me just to spend whatever life I had left with you. And it might have been short if you hadn't stepped in. And I'd have been fine with that. I'd have let you kill me without a fight."
"That's mental," Ed states.
"Olu thought so too, but at least I'd have died knowing you were still you. That I hadn't ruined you like I do most things I love. Like my family, like this ship, like-" he is cut off again by Ed's lips.
"I love you too," Ed says when they separate for air. "But if you ever pull a fuckery like that again," Ed says in all seriousness. "I will kill you."
Stede laughs, but Ed doesn't think it's funny. He isn't sure his heart can take the idea of losing Stede again, even if it was just another fuckery.
"Only ones you're in on. How does that sound?"
Ed weighs the options and ultimately agrees because he still loves a good fuckery, and he had seen the planning and detail, even if he couldn't read it, that Stede had put into his death fuckery.
"Fine, but no death, not yours, at least."
"Those are acceptable terms, Captain," Stede smiles, and Ed can't help but kiss him again. "So now what?"
"Fuck if I know," Ed admits. "Never expected to make it this far."
"With me or just in general?" Stede asks.
"Both," he admits.
"Should probably at least sort out the whole crew thing. They might be a bit mad at you, especially Black Pete. He misses Lucius." And Ed does genuinely feel guilty about that. "But in time, I'm sure you can win them over. Most of them, maybe. We can try."
"Together?" Ed asks hopefully.
"Yes, together," Stede agrees.
#tw: violence#tw: betrayal#tw: anger#tw: death#tw: stabbing#tw: sword fight#tw: blood#tw: bleeding#tw: doubt#tw: guilt#tw: pain#ofmd fic#our flag means death fic#death is in the details fic#death is in the details ofmd#blackbeard x stede#ed x stede#gentlebeard#blackstede#blackbonnet
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
cont. from [x] with @blackwingsbluedings
Tim was already worrying about Dick before the SOS came through. He'd been too quiet for his liking, so when his voice came through, sounding weak and strained, the teen was already on his way to Dick's location.
The sight that met him was not pretty. Why hadn't he asked for backup? Well, there was no time to dwell on that now. It was a question for later, because there had to be a later. Dick needed to survive. Although the GPS could pinpoint him with exact location, Tim also looked out for Nightwing-blue and found it.
Instantly, he were by his side. "Nightwing, can you hear me? It's Robin," he said, wanting to see if he can get any response from him while he also eyes him for injuries, finding only one that seems major, a laceration with the blade still stuck in him. It was not the first time Tim saw something like that, but he still needed to push the nausea and worry aside as he swiftly began to secure the blade and try and stop the surrounding bleeding. It was important that the blade remained until they could get to the Cave or one of the safehouses that had a well-equipped medical facility.
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
The whole city smelled like shit. That was the first thing you noticed as you came to King’s Landing — just how bad it smelled. It was only now, as you watched your Father’s head be placed on a pike, that you knew the smell came from the people ruling King’s Landing. Rotten to the core.
You held Sansa’s hand as you both watched blood drip down below the line of Northern heads. The wolf inside of you was baying for blood but you knew that you had more safety in being just a pretty little hostage for these stupid golden Lions. One day, the gods would come for them and you’d see their heads in a line just like the one on front of you but for your sake — and Sansa’s, who’s pale face and clammy hands told you what you needed to know about her state of mind — you’d play meek, play quiet, play broken. The Lions wanted to watch the pair of you break more than they wanted you dead. Currently.
So you straighten your back but don't raise your head and let the wolf sharpen its teeth in secret. Winter Was Coming and you’d make sure the Lions would be the first to feel it’s bite.
@summer-of-whump
#summer of whump#summer of whump [day 4]#summerofwhump[day4]#summerofwhump#day 4#sow#sow day 4#Hostage#tw: game of thrones#tw: death#tw: mutilation#tw: beheading#tw: bleeding#tw: blood#tw: hostage#game of thrones#got#a song of ice and fire#asoif#asoiaf#Sansa Stark#game of thrones drabbles#got drabbles#a song of ice and fire drabbles#asoif drabbles#asoiaf drabbles#Sansa Stark drabbles#my stuff#m’s drabbles
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cont: @ohmiiigosh | here!
Donnie wasn't sure what was entirely going on anymore. Everything was muffled, and blurry, and there was ringing, and he felt numb. A few words slipped into his ears, and he recognized his little brother's voice.
Uh, tell me how many slices-- er, numbers of Pi you can remember again?
"One 'un....dred...." Donnie managed breathlessly, muscles trembling. Focus on Mikey's voice. Mikey's got them. "O..... 'und....red... di-....dig...its... 'f.... p-pi..."
Wait, one hundred? Faintly, Donnie shook his head. "N-no, o-one-.... on....e... m-mil...l..'on..." Okay. That one felt right. One million digits. Probably.
A faint hiss slid through his teeth as he was placed on the cot, and the sound of Mikey scrambling for a medkit echoed in his head. In the back of their mind, they remembered something Leo told them.
Pressure. Pressure on a wound stops the bleeding.
"'ike," He slurred, eyes heavy. "'re...ssure... 'eed pre...ssu...re... on... 't..."
#reblob#larp (rp)#tw: injury#tw: bleeding#tw: bleeding out#tw: blood#(mikey i am so sorry they are very stupid)
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
hey, hi, I was just on the former bird app and came across this info from a brand new study and now I cannot stop screaming internally??? what the actual fuckkkk
theres' an article from the guardian here and here is the actual study:
#period products#menstruation#what the fuck what the fuck!!!#i know i probably shouldn’t be surprised but wtffff#idk what to tag this but#science#menstrual bleeding#heavy bleeding#period problems#reproductive health#alt text#described#physical health#blood mention tw#periods#edit: btw I skimmed the article overview and I’m glad to say it seems very inclusive#so once again: terfs can go fuck themselves in the not pleasant way <3#it always bears repeating and I will ad naseum
39K notes
·
View notes
Text
@surgcns sent "➤ receiver has been stabbed and sender finds them - patrick"
Okay, so maybe tonight wasn't her best work. Because her best work doesn't typically end in her getting stabbed.
It was partially her fault. She was taking on four guys all by herself. Her attention can only be split so far. She may act like she has eyes in the back of her head, but, unfortunately, she does not. She'd just gotten through the third guy, he was literally falling unconscious to the floor as she felt the knife push through just above her hip.
And then, to make matters worse, the bastard had pulled the knife out. She turned, with a bit of a wince, and then, taking the man by surprise, she turned his own blade against him. She'd plunged it right into his abdomen.
She didn't stick around long enough to survey the damage. She was far too concerned with herself to worry about any of the rest of them. She zipped up her jacket, hoping it'd do some good to hide the blood that was spreading over her top. She kept her hand pressed against the wound to try and stop the bleeding. But it wasn't working very well.
But she was determined to power through. Her hotel was only a few blocks away, she could make it through the work. And once she was back she could stitch herself up. It hadn't felt like it went that deep. The amount of blood coming from the wound would beg to differ, but Sarah isn't going to admit defeat in that department until she has no other choice.
All she has to do is make it through the alley and then her hotel is on the other side. But her vision is tunneling a little, blurring at the edges, too. She presses a hand against the bricks as she trudges through the alleyway, the press of her hand becomes firmer with each attempted step. Until her vision blacks out, and her grip goes slack against the wall.
The next thing she remembers is somebody's voice. An unfamiliar one, a stranger. And, despite her drained energy, she's on guard. She manages to peel her eyes open just a bit, to find a man knelt down beside her. He's asking her something, but she can't hear him. The blood rushing in her ears is far too loud to allow for that.
She murmurs an, "I'm fine." but it's weak to her own ears. She wouldn't believe her either.
#surgcns#don't pretend it's such a mystery; think about the place where you first met me (verse 01; feat surgcns)#tw: knives#tw: stabbing#tw: bleeding
0 notes
Text
#orange cassidy#am i wrong#my instagram#aew#tw: blood#tw: violence#wrestling#tw: bleeding#all elite wrestling#photo credit: beyondgorilla
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is one of many stories you can read about here, and as always -Free Congo!
#feminist#feminism#social justice#free congo#congo genocide#congo#dr congo#democratic republic of the congo#congoisbleeding#congo is bleeding#drc#colonial violence#fuck colonialism#fuck colonizers#abolish capitalism#capitalism is evil#capitalism#western imperialism#tw amputation
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
What if Pietro survived getting shot so many times because his dad is Magneto and maybe he and Wanda are like more immune to bullets and stuff like that than the average person? I mean, obvs Pietro couldn't survive no matter how fast he healed because he got shot TOO MANY times but... what if one of the reasons for him to potentially survive was exactly that? Wanda gave birth to the first mutants of the MCU. Namor dropped the actual m-word. It's coming y'all.
{out of breath} Yeeeeeah, I actually talked to one of my friends who has other friends who know something about the military grade ammunition Pietro was shot with, and it is absolutely bullshit that his wounds would have even looked like that. They wouldn’t be regular bullet holes at all. He would’ve had gaping, huge holes. Limbs might have been blown off. He might be missing whole chunks of his body. They would’ve torn him to shreds. So yeah, he would have been deader than dead if they had given him wounds accurate to the type of ammunition used. But even with the wounds we saw him have, he’s still dead. Some of the bullet holes were in vital areas and would have torn through major organs and arteries. Pietro would have bled out in seconds. It is completely and utter bullshittery to say he had any chance of surviving at all......... but who cares, I do it anyway, haha. Because listen, we’re all here to have fun, and it’s no fun leaving him dead, right? XD
With that said... hmm, o don’t know, never thought about any of that before. I’m not familiar with Magneto’s powers at all as far as other movies and things he’s been in. I haven’ seen any of that. And I don’t really remember the comics. But if Magneto is resistant to bullets, that could be a good explanation. That combined with Pietro’s fast healing abilities... maybe the bleeding slowed or even stopped way faster than normal and they were able to keep him from dying with on-site emergency medical care? Honestly, it’s as good an explanation as any other I’ve come up with, so why not? Sounds good to me!
Yeah, we do finally have mutants now in the MCU, but I always forget that because I meld the MCU with some comics elements, so my Maximoff twins have always been mutants. But in canon, maybe now we will get more crossovers with known mutants since that’s finally been introduced. That would be really interesting to see what they do with it all if they ever do meld the two worlds.
0 notes
Text
Usually having psoriasis is fine, I have meds for it for a reason. But then I develop a patch on an area on my leg, or somewhere that I shave often, and have to stare at it for like a metaphorical month trying to decide if it’s going to bleed or not.
My friends are still horrified that I call my injections a delime and descale cleanser.
1 note
·
View note
Note
could we mayhaps.,,, have some more angst of your Cookie run OCs? Please.?
Now I don't take requests, but wanting to see more of my OCs?? And you want it to be ANGST?? What can I say your argument was very persuasive XD
Now with this prompt I actually had to get creative. Because up to this point in my cookie lore development,, the only real angsty thing that happens in present day is the whole situation with Octo. But I didn't wanna dish up the same angst twice.. so I really had to think. Who else can I make suffer be the subject of angst? That's when I remembered the bond that Red and Coco have.. 😈
Now, Coco isn't really a stranger to nightmares. She had a few when Octo first got hurt and the whole crew feared they would lose him.. but it was ok. She was usually able to calm herself down and stay in bed..
But the occasional dreams she has about Red?.. She just cant handle them. She absolutely has to get up and go to him to make sure that he's ok. Most of the time she ends up just taking him with her back to her bed. Or just- anywhere that she feels is safe.
On her worst nights I can imagine that Seafoam wakes up to see that Red is missing.. only to find him and Coco curled up in a blanket nest under the stairs-
#my response#tw blood#tw gore#cookie run#cookie run kingdom#cookie run ocs#my ocs#I also discovered that the cookies in game bleed “jam”#add that to my list of tools that I use to make angst! XD
499 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
