#blackout hospital au

[greenkirbkid456u]

Aww what's the matter vasillis? Scared of yourself!

Meet puppet! They're a vasillis clone i will tell you more about what the hell is a clone and what is this au later

[itsjaywalkers]

laurie do you have any spare boxer!barty headcanons… from boxer james au…

SAINTS ANYTHING FOR U BABE U KNOW THIS

*cracks knuckles* okay so

he fights very methodically, almost like he's fucking possessed sometimes BUT his rivals still have a hard time reading him and predicting his moves bc he's also . reckless . and will break routine all of a sudden with the most dangerous combination u can think of

a lot of ppl are convinced he plays dirty or even cheats but the truth is that he's just Good and really fucking smart

as in, the thing about boxer barty is that he can get a read on his rivals during the first handful of seconds

yes he's strong yes he's a wild card and yes he has the technique but what makes him win at the end is his ability to . get into his opponent's head

the exception to this is james and not bc barty can't read him. it's simply that the hatred they profess each other is so visceral he just goes fucking Feral. both of them do

speaking of, they rarely get to finish their matches bc they always end up disqualified halfway through bc it gets Nasty pretty quickly when those two are involved

he's been on so many scandals. So Many. it's sort of ruined his reputation but his fans think is part of his charm

like . you know how athletes are very careful when it comes to their public images and take care of their bodies or whatever . yeah barty doesn't give a fuck about that and you WILL see a headline about him getting blackout drunk after one of his victories

this is mostly due to how controlling his father used to be back when barty was still under his thumb

in a way, most of what barty does has something to do with his father one way or another

everyone knows they had a very bad fallout like . it's public knowledge but since they don't have the details they're all soooo curious

interviewers know not to bring barty's dad up tho bc barty has flipped his shit before and on national television too so . they stray away from the topic completely

he's anti pr. his team has tried to clean up his act so many times. it never works. they've given up. at this point they're just ready to do some damage control

most of his money goes to his mother (his parents are divorced in this one and since his dad left her with pretty much nothing after they broke things off, barty took it upon himself to take care of her)

in fact, he lives with her

whenever barty loses a fight is Always on purpose

because he's obsessed with a certain nurse.. so he lets himself get beaten up from time to time just so he has an excuse to go see said nurse.. (it's evan. evan is the nurse)

evan is odd and offputing and he doesn't seem to like barty very much BUT he does seem to enjoy the sight of blood.. and analysing ppl's injuries even more than he does fixing them up.. so barty's happy to let him poke around

one time he lost a couple of teeth after a especially hard punch and while they tried to check his head and take him to the hospital barty's only concern was finding his lost teeth so he could bring them to evan

his friendship with regulus starts off as him finding reg Hot while simultaneously wanting to piss james off

but they end up Clicking and reg is the very first person barty opens up with about his dad + everything that happened with his mum

he had a thing with lily a while ago but it was mostly casual and he broke it off as soon as he found about her also sleeping with james.. they're still friends tho!! and barty is very fond of her

his first kiss with evan happens after he's dizzy and very out of it bc of the amount of blood evan just took from him (he spends more than a week thinking he dreamt it)

honestly most of his appointments with evan can be summarised by barty getting a lot of random erections and evan blinking at him with his dead brown eyes while he pokes around his body and worsens every single one of his injuries (before actually patching him up)

and im gonna stop myself there bc this is getting out of hand

[uhzuku]

Day 1 of asking for more catzawa content

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔. | 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮-𝐧𝐲𝐚.

𝐂𝐖 ‼️ | hybrids, hybrid au, no quirks, biting, some angst, biting as a fear response, cat hybrid aizawa, blood, slight gore, self loathing, catzawa being emo.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: as someone who’s been attacked by a dog, i can guarantee this is actually exactly how it goes dhcbdhbchf that medical emergency i mentioned back in august was oiterally me being attacked by a dog and having my hand uh. annihalated a lil 💀💀.

Honestly, it was all a complete accident, really. One moment you’d been easing into joking with the hybrid you’d gotten three weeks before, and the next he was tearing into your hand and sending blood across the couch and floor. 

It was, at most, your fault, and you knew that — you’d touched him before he was ready, and on his blind side as well, so you should have expected it. In your core ( and at the back of your mind ) you knew that it was a freak accident though.  You’d nearly slipped off the couch due to your socks not having a grip on the hardwood floor of your living room, and in an effort to save yourself you’d grabbed his shoulder on his blind side — and the rest was a blur of snarling, blood, and the sound of your own screeching. He’d turned in an instant, burying his teeth in your hand and jerking his head violently enough that you could almost swear you’d heard your own flesh tear ( but wasn't that dramatic? surely you couldn’t actually hear such a thing ). You’d lost focus for a second, shrieking at the pain of the torn flesh as well as the stabbing cold air on parts of you it wasn’t supposed to touch, and your shrieks were seemingly what woke Shouta up — at least, it’s what you believed. 

Really it was the taste of iron on his tongue. Your screams were nowhere near piercing enough to break through the way he’d blacked out from fear — there was always screaming, after all: in the shelter, in the fight ring his first owners had kept him in, in the two homes he’d had when he was young, and now here — but the taste of blood, your blood, was enough to jolt him out of the blackout, and that’s when your screams reached his ears. He had enough mind to unlock his jaw and stop jerking his head, spitting out your hand and leaping away as you stagger back away from him, your eyes as wide and panicked as his own. 

“I — I — I-!” he whimpers, unable to get his words out. No, no, no, no, no! Shouta hisses in his mind, his eyes wide as he stares at the blood running down your hand. Drops were quickly puddling on the floor, building in size until you’d clearly lost an amount that was alarmingly substantial. Shouta wanted to help, but God, what was he supposed to do? This was his fault — fuck, he was going to go back to the shelter. You’d report the bite, he’d get a bite record and be labeled aggressive, and with how slim his chances were before with how old and mangled he was, he’d never be adopted again. He was going to go back, and he was going to die in that place. 

“F-Fuck, that’s a lot,” you whisper breathlessly, shaking him out of his shock, and he starts to tremble at how hollow your eyes look. He sees you swallow hard, and he fights the urge to cower. “Fuck, okay. Okay. We’re gonna — stay here, okay? I need to go to the hospital, this is… this is not good.”

You stagger away from his crumpled up form and into the kitchen, not doing your usual check in that you did when he’d occasionally cower as you grab a hand towel to wrap around the gushing wound, and as the door closes behind you, he’s left in a silence permeated only by the scent of your blood. He trembles from his place pressed back into the corner by the entertainment center, but nothing happens, not yet anyway. 

Shouta knew what was going to happen. You would be fixed up at the hospital, then return with hybrid control, who would take him back to the shelter in a muzzle that would cut his jaw up again. If you miraculously didn’t demand euthenasia he’d be written up with a bite record and placed in the very back room with a muzzle on at all times, clipped with a padlock all the way around his skull so he couldn’t remove it on his own. At best he’d be sold to another fight ring, at worst he’d die alone in the dark, and all the while he’d know it was his own fault. You were falling, not attacking. Why did he have to be so fucked up?

After another moment of silence Shouta flees to the bedroom you’d given him, worming his way beneath the bed and hiding. He knew he was too old for it, but his remaining eye stung with unshed tears and his body shook slightly from fearful trembling. He didn’t want the shelter, he liked it here — but he’d ruined everything. 

It’s four hours before you return, and Shouta’s dozed off in his little hiding spot by then, but he wakes up immediately as the door opens. He can hear someone talking to you at the front of the house, but the strange voice disappears and the door closed immediately after, so he can only assume that it’s whichever neighbor you’d had drive you to the hospital — likely the old, tall, and skinny blond man who adored his garden that you were fond of, he seemed to have a soft spot for you. 

A half hour passes. Shouta listens with ears twitching between being pinned back and pressing forward a little as you putter around, and then the safety breaks. 

“Shouta? Where are you?” His one eye flashing with panic, Shouta pushes himself further back against the wall the bed was against; you couldn’t send him back if you couldn’t find him. “Shouta?”

He can hear you creeping closer to his room, and his heart pounds ruthlessly in his chest. You’re going to find him and hate him and send him back — God, he can’t go back, he’ll die-

“Are you in here?” you ask through the door, and he doesn’t reply. After a moment, you continue. “I’m assuming you are… Yagi and I brought dinner home on the way back, so if you’re hungry you can come get some.” Ha! Likely. Shouta plays with the claw on his left index finger with his ears pinned back nervously, and after another while you sigh. “You aren’t in trouble, Shouta. And I’m not mad at you, I promise.”

I wish I could believe you. 

“I’ll be in the living room if you need me; I’m off work for the next month or so, so it’ll just be us here — I hope that won’t bother you too much.” Your voice is sad, Shouta notes, and his eye stings again in time with his bottom lip trembling a little. What was the real point of putting it all off? Once you were tired of this hide and seek game he’d started you’d just have hybrid control forcibly remove him — maybe it would be easier if he just… accepted it, and went out. 

After all, he was hungry…

Swallowing hard, Shouta hauks himself out from the cramped spot under the bed, shaking the dust bunnies off, then carefully pads out, following the faint smell of takeout. He passes by the living room, and he can see you sitting on the couch, but you don’t acknowledge him as he passes by, and — oh. 

The blood he’d spilled that had been cast all over the floor was cleaned.

A new surge of guilt fills him. You’d cleaned all traces of his mistake up — or maybe Yagi had? He wasn’t in here for long though… Regardless, he should have been the one to clean it, and he’d left it to you. No wonder he was being sent back to the shelter. 

He really was a bad fucking cat hybrid. 

He worms his way into the living room, half to eat with your silent permission and half to assess the damage to your arm — but upon entering, you’ve moved, and you’re staring him down. Unlike the last time, his freeze response triggers, and he stands there staring at you while his breathing grows heavier and heavier. 

God. You look so tired. 

“Are you okay?” you finally ask, breaking the silence, and it stuns him for a moment before he shakes his head to clear it. 

“I — what?” he asks, voice slightly gravelly from disuse, and you take on a look of concern. 

“Are you okay?” you repeat, your brows furrowing. Shouta shakes his head violently. He doesn’t understand. 

“Why are you asking if I’m okay?! I ripped you up!” he snarls, tossing his plate onto the table next to him, and you nod for a moment as he calms himself down after the outburst. 

Once he’s calm, you ask, “Did you start the day off intending to?” and it makes him freeze, his brain metaphorically stuttering. 

“N-No, of course not—!”

“Then that doesn’t matter,” you say, shrugging. “What does matter is you being okay — I scared you when I grabbed you, and I hope I didn’t accidentally hurt your shoulder too,”

“… You… You didn’t…” Shouta whispers, borderline mystified that you somehow… aren’t angry with him. 

You nod with a sigh through the tiniest of smiles as you cradle your bandaged arm in your lap. “That’s a relief.”

The two of you go silent for a moment, and Shouta’s mind races. Somehow you weren’t angry with him, even though he deserved it, and you’d still fed him and hadn’t yelled — but oh, maybe this was a fucked up way of giving him a last meal before he returned, and you’d never been one for raising your voice anyway… 

“When will I be going back?” he finally asks, a thick sense of half-grief settling in his chest. 

He’d miss it here. 

You look confused. “Going back? Where?” you ask, and Shouta sighs; you were really going to make him say it out loud; how humiliating. 

“The shelter,” he grits out, his tail tucked and food forgotten as he stares down at his feet. 

“Why would you ever go back there?!” you exclaim, sitting up abruptly with a half hidden wince that he doesn’t miss. 

“I — You don’t want me anymore?” He can’t help that it comes out as a question — Shouta’s so fucking confused. “I hurt you.”

You shake your head at him, seemingly in disbelief. “On accident! And it was my fault, you told me the day I got you that you don’t like being touched.”

“But I bit—“ he argues, and you interrupt. 

“On accident. Right?” you ask firmly, and he nods hesitantly. 

“… Yes,” he whispers, “but—“

“Then there was no problem,” You say gently, then tip your head ever so slightly away from him. “Now come watch TV with me — your favorite is on.”

He does nothing but stare at you for a moment, your warmth and gentleness alien to him. Shouta knew humans, he’d been around them since he’d been born, but you? You were so different than every other human he’d come across — you didn’t hit, you didn’t yell, you didn’t threaten. You fed and you clothed and you comforted — and Shouta truthfully did not know what to do with that. All his life he’d been treated like a fighting mutt and like a useless object to possess, and now suddenly he was worth something to a human who treated him well? How was he supposed to easily process this? None of these thoughts, however, stopped him from obediently ( albeit hesitantly ) stalking fully into the livingroom and nestling himself against the far arm of the couch to watch television with you. 

If you weren’t going to be rid of him yet, he might as well enjoy the time he had left. 

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: January 12/24

Happy Friday everyone!! I hope you had a wonderful week, and are ready to enjoy some more fic recs to get you started on the weekend! Enjoy!!

RECENTLY BOOKMARKED

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Fade To Black by twistedthicket1 (M, 93,389 w., 29 Ch. || Split Personality Disorder / DID, Action, Romance, Violence, Implied Rape/Non-Con, BAMF John, Fluff and Angst, Baskerville, Human Experimentation, PTSD, Implied Self Harm, Trauma Amnesia, Past Child Sexual Abuse, Protective Sherlock, Smoking, Meddling Mycroft, Past Victor/Sherlock, Gay Sherlock, Sherlock’s Past, First Kiss/Time) – John Watson believes one day he'll just fade. That he'll drown in the black spaces of his mind, and that one day he will no longer exist. It's always been like this, the dark spots marking out moments in his life he can't remember. Where for just a moment he's someone else. Having a Dissociative identity disorder, he can't even be entirely sure he's really who he says he is. Then he meets Sherlock Holmes. A brilliant detective who when he looks at you can read your entire life story. John is immediately fascinated and afraid, half-wondering if maybe Sherlock can see the other personalities in him and half terrified of the thought of him finding out. Becoming his flatmate seems at once to be a wonderful and horrible idea. Yet as John's Blackouts become more and more severe and his other personalities begin to truly awaken and show themselves with Sherlock's help, the two soon discover that sometimes even the kindest person can harbour a demon best left untouched inside of them. Because not all of John's other personalities play nicely and some may be hiding secrets best left undisturbed...

MARKED FOR LATER

Hand Me the Salt, Love? by topsyturvy_turtely (G, 554 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Pet Names, Flustered Sherlock, Cooking, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Fluff Without Plot) – John is cooking. Sherlock is not helping. Until...

Locked Room by Calais_Reno (T, 8,346 w., 2 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || Pool Scene, Mystery, Near Death Experience, Drug Addiction, Serious Injuries, Temporary Amnesia, POV Alternating, Love Confessions, Happy Ending) – John wakes up in a locked room, unable to remember how he got here. The last thing he remembers is his hands covered in blood, trying to keep a soldier from dying. His roommate also seems to be suffering from amnesia, and has decided that John is a delusion. Part 33 of Just Johnlock

Walk of Shame by 72reasons (E, 14,355+ w., 9/? Ch. || WiP || Alternate First Meeting AU || Meet-Ugly, Bisexual John, Gay Sherlock, Alternating POV, Sad John, Suicidal Thoughts, Casual Sex, Strangers to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Threesome, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex) – John is just back from the war and wanders the city wondering what he’s going to do. One of his distractions is having casual sex with a beautiful, but annoying, woman. Sherlock usually refrains from sex, but in trying to stay sober he indulges in it now and again. Sherlock meets John on the street and sparks fly. Casual sex is one thing, but what about something more?

[yourlocaltrashcan657]

★Mental Hospital AU! AOT Chapters★

Prologue ᯓᝰ.ᐟ Chapter 1- Meeting Eren ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ Chapter 2- Meeting Armin  (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ Chapter 3- Meeting Levi (っ- ‸ - ς) Chapter 4- Break Time ᯓᝰ.ᐟ Chapter 5- Meeting Connie (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ Chapter 6- Meeting Jean (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) ! Chapter 7- Meeting Reiner ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ Chapter 8- Lunch Time ᯓᝰ.ᐟ Chapter 9- Meeting Bertolt ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ᗜ^) Chapter 10- Exchange ᯓᝰ.ᐟ Chapter 11- Yeager or Ackerman ᯓᝰ.ᐟ Chapter 12- Eren ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ Chapter 13- Armin (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ Chapter 14- Lunch Duty Chapter 15- Levi (っ- ‸ - ς) Chapter 16- Break In ᯓᝰ.ᐟ Chapter 17- Connie (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ Chapter 18- Jean (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) ! Chapter 19- Reiner ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ Chapter 20- Bertolt ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ᗜ^) Chapter 21- Blackout  ᯓᝰ.ᐟ ~| Eren Ending |~ ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ ~| Armin Ending |~ (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ ~| Levi Ending |~ (っ- ‸ - ς) ~| Connie Ending |~ (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ ~| Jean Ending |~ (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) ! ~| Reiner Ending |~ ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭ ~| Bertolt Ending |~ ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ᗜ^) ~| Erwin Ending |~ ˙ᵕ˙

[mania-sama]

rule #27 - drunk on pride

Rule #27 - Drunk on Pride - Fish in a Birdcage

➼ information ❧ Bungou Stray Dogs ❧ Pairings: Akutagawa Ryuunosuke/Nakajima Atsushi ❧ Tags: gunshot wounds, drinking, mild hurt/comfort, no ability users au, mild gore, medical inaccuracies, light angst, stitches, no armed detective agency au ❧ Summary: Akutagawa and Atsushi have been on the run from the Port Mafia for a year and a half. In an altercation with the Mafia during their stay in a faraway country, Atsushi takes a gunshot to the leg. Akutagawa has to pull out the bullet before lead poisoning can set in. Unfortunately, the only anesthetic Atsushi has is two bottles of vodka and the fear of pain. ❧ Word Count: 2,529 ❧ Cross-posted from Archive of Our Own ❧ Original post date: 14 October 2023

➼ whumptober 2023 ❧ Day 14: No Anesthesia ❧ Previous Day ❧ Next Day ❧ Masterlist

Two bottles of vodka rest in the small area around Atsushi’s hotel bed. One gradually empties down Atsushi’s throat, and the other remains if, for some ungodly reason, the forty percent alcohol content isn’t enough to get him blackout drunk. He already wants to throw up — liquor has never settled particularly well in his stomach. He continues to guzzle vodka anyway because the pulsing pain in his leg is worse than the hangover he will undoubtedly have.

Several bottles of water are waiting for him in the refrigerator, but he doesn’t think he’ll need or want them. Akutagawa patiently waits in the other bed for the alcohol to settle in Atsushi’s system. His handgun waits an inch from his hands, the safety turned off and loaded with fresh bullets. Dirt, blood, and grime have already stained the white sheets' top layer of both their beds, more so Atsushi’s than Akutagawa's. Atsushi doesn’t have the privilege of showering just yet.

“This tastes horrible. You know I hate vodka,” Atsushi groans, setting the little-over-halfway-finished bottle by his waist. He shakily wipes away the liquid remnants from his lips.

“It’s the highest alcohol content they have here,” Akutagawa says nonchalantly, but the stiff set of his jaw and tensed shoulders betray his concern. “If you hate it so much, try not to get shot next time.”

It nearly takes more restraint than he has to not launch the other full bottle directly at Akutagawa’s head. The only reason he doesn’t is because he knows they need to be careful about how much money they are spending. They still had large amounts of several different currencies saved, but money can be burned just as easily as it can be stolen. A freak accident could force them to have to foot the uninsured expenses of a real hospital visit, or they could be cornered and need to hop several countries at once. Fake IDs, weapons, bribes, and plane tickets don’t come cheap.

In any case, the vodka is a luxury item. He can’t bring himself to throw it away so easily. 

“I hope it's you next time,” Atsushi settles for. Unfortunately, his words contain none of the bite he intended.

“There better not be a next time,” Akutagawa replies with a thin layer of firmness that only comes from anxiety. He lays an idle finger on the handle of his gun.

His voice is sobering enough for Atsushi to knock back a couple more gulps. It’s heavy and uncomfortable and tastes like cough medicine. A tell-tale buzz settles in his head and his vision crosses uncontrollably. He inclines his chin at Akutagawa. “I’m starting to feel it. We should get started now.”

The pain in his thigh has come to a stagnant throb since he’s been lying on the bed. It’s better than it was before, but that’s not necessarily saying much when before was running on a fresh bullet wound, then further walking on it bandaged and bleeding. They don’t have any painkillers on them unfortunately, and Akutagawa doesn’t want to risk leaving the hotel room long enough to pick up a new bottle from the drugstore.

His only relief is vodka of all drinks. Before, he only had a marginal distaste for it. Now it quickly climbs to his least favorite beverage of all time. He won’t ever be able to look at a bottle again without remembering painful nights that only consisted of him, Akutagawa, vodka, and whatever shelter they managed to find.

Akutagawa washes his hands at the sink before pulling out the only supplies they have for an impromptu surgery: a sewing needle, stitches, scissors, and a fresh roll of gauze. A set of clothes waits at the side of his bed for when all is done and he needs to change out of his blood-stained pants and shirt.

After placing all of their equipment on the right side of the bed, Akutagawa straddles Atsushi’s calves. He hesitates when he reaches for the hastily wound bandage. It’s only because Atsushi’s hand is in the way, and it's trembling. It isn’t a slight shake, either — it's like an earthquake has erupted in his bones.

Atsushi knows that his tremors and rapid heartbeat aren’t from the alcohol alone. He’s terrified. Pain scares him unlike any beast known to man. As an orphan who never knew a kind hand, and as a young adult on the run from a deadly mafia organization, one would think he would’ve learned to get over it. Somehow, he hasn’t, and knowing that he’s about to experience the worst pain in his entire life is leaving him in shambles.

“Do you still want more time to get drunk?” Akutagawa asks. His gray eyes narrow with worry. He doesn’t push for an answer when Atsushi doesn’t answer immediately. Akutagawa knows his problem with pain, just as Atsushi knows Akutagawa’s problem with dogs. They know the seriousness in which to take the matter; it comes with the territory of being as unnaturally close as they are.

A year and a half on the run from Yokohama’s Port Mafia does that to a couple.

Slowly, Atsushi shakes his head. “No. Just get it over with,” he grits out, forcing his hand to grip the comforter instead. He takes another swig of vodka and prays he’ll be in a drunken stupor before it's over. 

Akutagawa doesn’t waste a second longer and begins peeling the bandage off of Atsushi’s thigh. His wound throbs from the release of pressure, though it’s no longer bleeding. It’s a good thing, he supposes, that he didn’t lose any more blood than he did. If they had to go register in a hospital so close to where they attacked, they surely would’ve been cornered and killed. He breathes deeply and tries to reconcile his living status with the pain he faces. It doesn’t work all that well, but the key word is try.

Akutagawa discards the soiled bandage to the small, carpeted space between their beds. Blood will undoubtedly seep into it and be a hassle to get out. Atsushi feels a twinge of guilt for the poor roomkeepers who are going to have to clean the mess that they definitely aren’t going to fix themselves. The most they’ll end up doing is trashing the bad bandages and clothes, but the rest will be left to strangers.

His attention returns to his thigh as he feels cold metal against his skin. His boyfriend cuts away the fabric of his pants with their pair singular pair of scissors. Atsushi takes a deep breath as his skin turns into pop rocks and his mouth runs dry of saliva. The worst part of it all is that he can feel phantom pains, imagined from his restless mind in preparation for what will come next.

He takes one small sip of vodka, the bottle now nearly empty. It’s all he can manage since it threatens to come back up his throat in a violent wave of nausea. He wishes he could take in more. The ratchet taste is becoming neutral and faded on his dulling tongue, and he really wants to not feel the next part.

Akutagawa doesn’t give him any more time to imagine the pain, because as soon as he sets the scissors down, his fingers plunge straight into the entry wound. It’s all Atsushi can do to bite back his scream. They chose a hotel for optimal cleanliness and proper sleep, but they sacrificed privacy. If he lets out a loud noise, people will hear and report the disturbance to the front desk. Worse yet, they could come knocking on the door to investigate the noise themselves.

So he doesn’t scream, but he does curse out the names of all vodka brands. None of his senses have dulled enough to counteract this level of pain. Molten lava covers his entire leg in a thick coat of burning fire. Akutagawa’s untrimmed nails cut through his flesh and veins as he roots for the bullet lodged inside, and it feels like he’s getting slashed with a twelve-inch blade.

It’s always as bad as he fears. Worse, even. He chugs the remaining bit of the vodka, and the bottle trembles in his white-knuckled grip on its neck. Akutagawa’s fingers dig deeper into the wound, and it takes all that he has to not thrash or yell. He settles for heavy gasps and low whines that, if heard, are much easier to explain away. His vision blurs with both tears and the effect of an entire bottle’s worth of alcohol.

It holds sixteen shots of vodka, and it takes approximately eight for him to get drunk. He consumed the whole thing in a little less than an hour.

And yet, he can still feel it as Akutagawa accidentally pushes the bullet deeper into his thigh in his attempt to grab it. Vodka isn’t worth shit, he thinks hazily as his back arches against the heavy weight on his legs and his death grip on the comforter. His head hits the headboard with a heavy thunk. 

He does not scream.

But he does cry.

His tears come down in uncontrollable waves as Akutagawa pulls out the bullet in quite possibly the slowest manner he can muster. Somewhere behind the rapidly growing veil of intoxication, Atsushi recognizes the importance of being meticulous and careful. But it's his thigh that's now actively gushing blood all over his pants and sheets , and Akutagawa takes his precious time examining the bullet. It’s covered in thick crimson liquid and bits of flesh that it couldn’t bear to part with.

Underneath the blood is a gold shell that managed to remain intact despite his persistent movement. He couldn’t stay off of his leg for long until they made it to their getaway car, and even then he still had to make it to the hotel room without making it too obvious that he’d been shot. He guesses he got lucky that the bullet didn’t fracture.

Not that it would make his situation much different. Akutagawa would still have to pilfer through his thigh to dig out the shards to prevent lead poisoning, and Atsushi would just have to take it even though pain is his worst enemy.

Such is life when you steal nine hundred million yen from the Port Mafia and run away with one of their higher-ranking members. Atsushi had it coming.

Akutagawa puts the bullet on the nightstand rather than tossing it on the bloody pile of bandages on the floor. The next step — God, there’s more — is the stitches. Atsushi hates getting stitches. Each puncture in his tender flesh always hurts more than the last, and at this point, his wound has gotten significantly larger than it had been before due to the extraction process so the whole ordeal is going to last even longer than usual.

Great. Just great.

Perhaps the vodka is setting in after all.

His boyfriend ties one end of the suture around the bent needle, and he pinches Atsushi’s wound so tight it forces an unsolicited sob from the back of his throat. For the first time since the operation started, Akutagawa spares one glance up at Atsushi’s face. He has a hand over his mouth, biting into it to both redirect his focus on the pain and muffle his cries.

Their gazes meet, and Akutagawa mumbles something Atsushi can’t quite catch over the sound of his own whines. His expression is drawn into remorse, though, so it isn’t hard for his muddled brain to accurately guess what he said.

The feel of sutures going through his pulsing flesh and sensitive skin is unlike anything else, therefor hard to forget and easy to recognize. It’s exactly how one would imagine a snake crawling inside their intestines, or an ant traversing their veins. When the suture is tightened to pull the skin together, it feels then like the animal has clamped their sharp little teeth over wherever they are in the body.

Atsushi loses count of the number of times his skin pulls quickly. He blames it in part on his inebriation and another on not being able to see the stitches themselves all that quickly from his position. Akutagawa’s hair covers most of Atsushi’s line of sight.

The scissors snip off the end of the suture line, leaving the only part left to change out of his pants, clean off the blood and gore on his leg as best as they can, and bind the wound back with gauze. When Akutagawa looks at him, Atsushi can already tell what the question at his lips will be.

“I can’t stand. In too much pain and definitely too drunk,” he says, and it allows an exorbitant amount of salty tears into his mouth. Akutagawa gives him a once-over with a kind of scrutinizing look, but he moves on without complaint.

Getting his pants off is an unnecessarily difficult process that includes a lot more pain than Atsushi would have wanted. Akutagawa wets a handcloth with hot water and scrubs off the gore on his thigh in and around the wound. It’s not bleeding anymore, and of course that’s when Atsushi finally loses feeling in all his limbs and muscles. After the gauze has already been wrapped around his leg — after everything is over.

Akutagawa sits beside Atsushi, stoking his fingers gently through white hair. He detangles the knots he comes across with ease. They’ve done this a hundred times before, where one is more tired or injured from the day's events and the other holds him until he’s able to rest. It’s familiar; warming and sickening at the same time. It means they have each other, but it also means their nightmare isn’t over.

It’ll be over in six months, he reminds himself. Six months until their side of the agreement with ex-Port Mafia executive and successful defector, Dazai Osamu, is completed.

If you can survive two years on the run from the Port Mafia unaided, my friends and I will lend you our protection.

Those were the only conditions. Akutagawa and Atsushi’s contact has been limited to only text messages by Dazai at every important interval. The first text had been when they survived for one month. The next for six, the one after for a year.

Just yesterday, their eighteen-month celebratory text came in. It’s their only lifeline, their only reason to continue this uphill fight against a violent organization that is very good at doing one thing: silencing defectors.

If Dazai could make it as one man, they could certainly make it as two.

Atsushi’s thoughts slow and Akutagawa’s gentle petting becomes a distant memory. His last thoughts are spent wondering if his boyfriend used to do this with his sister and if they comforted each other after dangerous missions that left them tattered and beaten. He wonders which part of him is motivated by escaping the same fate as his dead sister and what is motivated by exacting revenge on those who have hurt his loved ones.

He’ll have to ask later when he isn’t drunk off his mind on decidedly the worst type of liquor in existence.

[sophiasharp]

So fun fact about me, I absolutely adore soulmate au’s and now I’m thinking about how one might work for Ghost.

The one I’ve come up with so far is along the lines of a traditional Au, where everyone gets a black and white marking somewhere on their body that represents who their soulmate is. The markings themselves can be as simple as printed letters on skin or can be as complex as a full shaded tattoo. Sometimes who it represents obvious, sometimes it’s not, hell you can even have more than one which makes things real complicated, but the only way you can tell for sure that you’ve found The One™️ is that the marking will glow and gain color when you’ve fallen in love (or, alternatively, when you’ve created a deep enough bond) with your soulmate.

Now here’s the kicker: while most humans have a soulmate, the same cannot be said for ghouls, who are traditionally freed from that cosmic convention due to Lucifer and his stress on personal freedom. In that way, ghouls are free to choose who they love rather than leaving it up to fate.

However, that magic ward only extends as far as Hell’s reach, and upon summoning to Earth, there is a chance that a soul mark can appear on a ghoul due to being the soulmate of a human.

An example of one such occurrence:

Terzo was born with both of his soul marks. This in and of itself isn’t all that surprising as the only prerequisite for a soul mark to be formed is that the soulmate also be alive. There were other things that made it odd, however. One of them was that they were so close together, to the point where it was at first thought that the two marks were in fact one.

Another, of course, was that they were written directly on his throat, just above his clavicle like the charms on a choker. Soul marks are extremely personal to the barer, so to have his be in such a visible, vulnerable spot was a massive worry for Terzo’s mother.

As she was recovering in the hospital, holding her newborn son for the very first time, she couldn’t help but ponder what kind of connection he will have with his soulmates that will warrant such placement.

Α and Ω, printed directly on her darling’s neck in bold, black ink. What could it possibly mean?

Meanwhile, somewhere in Linkoping, two incredibly hungover ghouls are recovering from a blackout night on the town and are desperately trying to figure out when they got matching rose tattoos.

[cosmicleaper]

..welcome.....

hellooo world!1!!!~

~~ VIC//COTYN//RILEY//FELIX !

༚⁠˖⁠♡ ~ - he/him pronouns

༚⁠˖⁠♡ ~ - sideblog for mainly hfsh<3

༚⁠˖⁠♡ ~ - refrain from spilling spoilers for Cemetery Mary, Blackout Hospital, and other games, as I have not seen playthroughs/played thru them yet! Hfsh spoilers are fine <3

༚⁠˖⁠♡ ~ - heartbreak no more! au creator

༚⁠˖⁠♡ ~ - theo lover (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡ !

♡ boundaries/no-nos • bmfs • navigation ♡

༚⁠˖⁠♡ NOs!! ~ - asking for age/anything personal, homophobia/transphobia/misogyny/racism & etc will NOT be tolerated, hating on ships/having toxic ship wars suck- pls take that off my blog, theo haters.., those type of people who hate any sort of fan creations (aus mainly), fetishists in general

༚⁠˖⁠♡ BMFs!! ~ - fellow theo lovers, hfsh lovers/players, InmImb players, CROWSCARE players, LGBTQIA+ users, theo X nova shippers, nothing happens/nothing bad happens!au lovers, any1 non judgemental, fan artists!!!!

༚⁠˖⁠♡ navigation ^•^ ~ - 💞 - hfsh art/art in general, 🗣️ - occasional writing 🌩️ - angst.. (rare), ""theova""/🚬🩷 - Theo X m!Nova, ""vic/riley chats"" - me talking! , additional navigation will be added when needed!

..thank you for reading......

[mamamittens]

My brother called me and woke me up from my coma, so for the brief moment of time before I go back to being passed TF out, here's some thoughts for Ambiguous Intent (Hitman AU)

Eventually we run into the classic "Caught in the rain/Poor weather" trope.

Still on the fence about what kind but it does require some thoughtful hospitality.

Perhaps it's a coming snowstorm and the boys are worried about Nikia's apartment. It's not a bad apartment by any means but it is affordable and getting supplies ain't cheap.

She insists she's fine with her humble supplies, assuming that her electricity will hold and heating won't be an issue. Not like she planned to leave her apartment during a blizzard. But they want to make sure and, hey, might as well get supplies themselves.

Make it a fun field trip.

A little too late, or maybe the snowstorm came in too fast, and they only had enough time to get back to one dwelling. Blackouts not hoped for but low-key expected. So, naturally, they argue hard for her to stay with them for that.

She can't argue too hard, already seeing the snow build up outside the panicked grocery store.

So, reluctantly, she adds a toothbrush to the pile.

They remove it and add something more than fifty cents worth. Her health is important and well, they won't admit it obviously, but there's hope that she comes over more often.

Driving is a little nerve-racking. Not because of their driving, probably Izou, but because of every one else's. By the time they reach their fancy digs, half the city is shut down and it is FUCKING COLD AS FUCK.

Quickly, they all shuffle inside and Thatch sets up a nice, warm dinner. There is a backup generator for the building but power will be limited if it turns on to essentials only. They won't freeze but a big spread with 70+ heating is probably not in the cards if it happens. Those giant windows are insulated but the cold is relentless.

Izou suggests a movie night piled on the couch to stay warm, which Nikia agrees to easily enough.

There's a bit of an argument as she tries to sit on either side but, man, they're just so concerned about her being warm. Darndest thing.

She loses that fight.

Fully intending on passing out after the movie, she uses that snazzy new toothbrush and settles in. Curled up between them as the movie plays, she's about dead by the time it ends.

She's scooped up and passed out quickly.

Naturally, they don't put her in the guest room. What if the power goes out and she freezes?! Besides, their bed is big enough lol

Izou has to smack Thatch's hands when he notices him kneading her thigh. The man has roaming ass hands but Izou won't have him wake her up. They're so satisfied as they squish in close, feeling the cold creep in as the night goes on. Only so much they could crank up the heat to combat the blizzard outside.

Nikia wakes up briefly in the middle of the night confused and very crowded. Thick arms around her middle and face buried in someone's chest. Two faces tucked into her hair. Legs tangled.

She squirms, trying to gauge her freedom, and gets a light swat to her ass as Izou grumbles, pressing in even closer.

"...no. 'S cold." Someone huffs and she can feel the layer of frigid air over the blanket where the heat is trapped.

His hand drifts in soothing motions from her hip to her waist, fingertips skimming over her ass.

Thatch whines in his sleep as the perceived attempt to leave and his arm moves. Palm settling between her neck and breasts, pressing on her collarbone as he shifted closer to her ass.

"Too close, let go!" She huffs, trying to squirm again. "Why your bed?"

Getting riled up now, they both scooch in even closer, pinning her between them.

"Powers out. Too cold. Go to sleep, hun."

Thatch pressing against her ass and she goes still, finally aware of his half aroused state, just as Izou slides his thigh between hers. Her own slotting up high in her attempt to curl up in her sleep.

They're both in the same state.

Flustered, Nikia is frozen as they assume compliance and settle back down.

She kinda likes them at this point and is torn on how to act.

Obviously, she needs to leave. She does NOT need to be feeling their stiffs in their own shared bed. But clearly they don't care and aren't willing to release her.

But she can try and give them a little more privacy.

"Gotta pee."

She kinda does. Thankfully.

They seem to share some sort of communication halfway between looks and low huffs.

Carefully, Thatch peels away and let's her slip out, mindful to not let in the frigid air as she curses softly.

Blindly stumbling to the bathroom.

She takes care of business swiftly, not caring for how chilly the floor is, intent on going to the guest bedroom with her newfound freedom.

But the minute she's out of the bathroom arms wrap around her and she's pulled to their bedroom. Thatch's expression obscured in the dark but intense. Tired eyes fixed on her flustered ones.

"I--" Thatch presses a kiss to her temple.

"No." There's no room for argument, his hands caressing her chilled arms as she's pulled into their room again. The door firmly closed behind her as she's guided back to bed.

"Don't you two want--" lips press dangerously close to her lips sleepily in the dark.

"You're a perfect guest. It's too cold to argue. Go back to sleep, baby." Thatch coos, all but pushing her into Izou's arms as he slides in behind her.

This time she's got her back to Izou, his arms wrapped around her middle firmly as his nose burrows into her neck. Thatch quick to curl over the both of them and bury her face into his bared chest. Hands soothing over her and Izou as she panics.

They're both still notably aroused but she knows they can't control that. It still feels odd to be between a couple like this but, eventually, she falls asleep.

Spices and cologne in her nose.

"...finally."

"shut up. You're the one who scared her with your dick." Izou huffed softly.

"I could feel where your hand was, baby." Thatch chuckles. "Besides, she should get used to it. Can't help it when I've got two cuties in my bed."

"...the blizzard is supposed to last a few days."

"Well, it's a good thing we've got such a nice bed."

"You planning something?"

"..maybe."

Thatch does not succeed in his dreams of a snow-bound threesome.

The power of denial is too strong with Nikia. It takes both of their persuasion combined just to make sure she doesn't retreat to the guest bedroom in embarrassment.

It'd be easier if personal space meant anything but they're too busy abusing how cold it is to even pretend.

[lifblogs]

I'm a disabled person in an abusive situation who is not being cared for, and am struggling with money (I have only $29.34.) I cannot work due to a TBI and many other illnesses/conditions. You can help by donating to:

Paypal: lif61

Venmo: lili61

Other ways you can help:

Buy me a coffee for Loki's emergency fund. (Loki is a neurologically disabled cat with a deteriorating condition. He will need the hospital at some future point in his life, and I don't want money to get in the way of his care.)

Donations of essentials. (This list will change and be updated as things are donated or I run out of something.)

Hello, new followers! My blog is a crazy place, so time to talk about some tags to make it easier for everyone. Though I feel as if I must begin with a disclaimer.

I love Supernatural, and tag that as #spn. If you are here for another reason, you can block that tag.

I love Star Wars, and tag that as #star wars. Again, block if you are not here for that, so you don't get annoyed. (My current obsession within Star Wars is The Bad Batch. You can block #the bad batch, and/or #tbb.)

I love cats. A lot. Feel free to block the #cats tag. I also will tag #my cat, or #my cats; and #loey (my kitties’ ship name), #alley cat, and #loki the cat.

Other tags I use frequently are #personal, #lol, #nature, #birds, #fanfiction, #fanart, #writing, and #whump.

Be warned, I am a huge fan of whump. If you don't like whump and don't block the tag you will see some things that might make you uncomfortable. Please, feel free to block the tag if you need to.

I seem to have picked up the habit of talking about what I'm reading, so for that I use #reading, and if it's a book (it usually is), I use #books.

If you are as annoyed with my mother as I am, block the tag #my mom. I'm in a tough situation here at home, so I do vent about it. Speaking of difficult, I sometimes use the tag #actually disabled.

If you want fun content, there’s the #my dad tag. He’s an interesting man.

I tag adult content as #nsft, and sometimes #mdni.

I try my best to tag #salt, and #wank.

I am participating in Whale Weekly. All Whale Weekly posts are tagged as #whale weekly, and #moby-dick.

When I'm reading Dracula all posts will be tagged as #dracula, and #dracula daily.

Other tags are #music, #The Lord of the Rings, #lotr newsletter, #The Hobbit, #game of thrones, #house of the dragon, #httyd, #rtte, #doctor who, #mcu, #good omens, #grishaverse, #tdp (The Dragon Prince), #atla (Avatar: The Last Airbender), #tlok (The Legend of Korra), and #toa (Tales of Arcadia). May occasionally talk about #sjm (Sarah J. Maas) and #tog (Throne of Glass) while doing rereads.

And apparently I blog about #pjo now!

If you're looking for my writing (if the tumblr search function ever actually works again), that can be found under #my writing.

And below the cut I have a masterlist of my writing!

My AO3

Fics by Fandom:

Supernatural

Star Wars

Chilling Adventures of Sabrina

The 100

Lucifer

Tales of Arcadia

'Teen Wolf

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Good Omens

Multi-Chapter Fics (Completed):

Don't Call Me Sammy

How to Get Rid of Nightmares

Bleeding Reality

Deathless

Lockdown

The Sins of Heaven

In the Dark

Day & Night

Book One: Spirit

It's Time We Had the Talk

Don't Call Me Sammy (Rewrite)

The World Goes Cold

Multi-Chapter Fics (WIP)

The Wail of Dying Stars

Blackout

Livin In You

Three Birds, One Stone

Imperium

Brother, Hold Me Up

Series

The Ascendancy Trials

SPN Hiatus Creations 2018

Take Me to Church

Where

SPN Hiatus Creations 2019

Whumptober 2019

#SpnStayAtHome

SPN Hiatus Creations 2020

Whumptober 2020

Banned Together Bingo 2020

#SPNAdventCalendar2020

Angstpril 2021

Whumpay 2021

Whumptober 2021

Angstpril 2022

Sam Week 2022

Whumptober 2022 As It Should've Been

AI-less Whumptober 2023

Post-Plan 99

Lipstick

TechPhee Smut

Tech Tuesday

Summer of Bad Batch 2024

Mistborn!AU

Neurodivergent Tech Week 2024

After Dark

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Alternate AU: Turning Point

Seth had hit rock bottom, barely making it by and feeling lost. Yet he, with the unfortunate help of his old “friend”, somehow manages to dig himself even deeper.

TW: blood, violence, hinted childhood trauma, references to alcoholism and manipulation

Notes: Seth standalone story yippie! this is nearly 2,500, being decently short. Basically. Before the BPS Seth got into trouble. A lot. This being one of those instances

-----

March 14th 1993.

Seth missed his birthday again.

It was a simple slip of the mind of course, but it had been happening nearly every year; going for around a week after his birthday before realizing he missed the chance to celebrate it at all. He supposed it didn’t matter anyway, as no one was there to celebrate with him. He had spent the last few birthday’s drinking himself into a blackout with people he barely knew nor liked, though this year the option didn’t seem as fun as it used to, and he was tired of feeling like he could barely stand every morning.

Seth thought to himself as he smoked a cigarette, waiting silently as he sat on the cold bench at the bus stop. He was wearing an unbuttoned, black, cheap hoodie, along with a grey shirt and jeans. His black hair was long, draping slightly over his shoulders, and strands of it hung over his face. His facial hair was messy, and his dark brown eyes had dark circles around them. He had a few piercings, being two silver earrings and a nose ring. He knew very well he looked as tired and haggard as he felt, though he didn’t care. He just needed to get home, hoping he had enough money in his pocket for the bus there.

When he saw the bus rolling down the street, he stood up, feeling an all too familiar pain in his legs. Every single time he felt his joints pop and sting, he remembered how he should’ve gone to the hospital years ago and be given a diagnosis for once. Alas, no one believed his child self when he complained, so there he was; wondering if he was going to have to use a walker before he was thirty.

He walked onto the bus, handing the money to the driver before sitting near the back, seeing that there was no one else sitting nearby. He sighed, supporting his head with his hand as he waited for the bus to move, wondering when the last time he slept well was. After a little while, the bus stopped elsewhere in town, Seth stepping off before continuing his walk. He saw the bus pass by, seeing it roll down the street before grabbing his pack of cigarettes from his pocket, lighting up another one as he passed under the orange-yellow streetlights.

As he walked down the street, his natural limp somewhat apparent as he moved, he passed by the local junkyard, seeing the beat up cars and metal scrap lying around the large lot. He remembered he and a few of his “friends” would hang out there after drinking at the bar, breaking random junk and talking about whatever they got into since they last spoke to each other. Now that Seth thought about it, he realized he hadn’t seen any of them in a while, and he wasn’t necessarily hoping to see them again.

He wondered if he should cut through the junkyard like he normally would, as it was quicker than going around the block to get to his apartment. However, as he thought to himself, staring at the chain-link fence, he began to hear something from somewhere down the street.

“Hello?!” The voice sounded as if it was coming from a radio of some sort, discordant and unnatural. “Can…c-can anyone help me?!”

Seth felt a pit in his stomach grow as he listened close to the sounds of whatever was down the street, suddenly feeling…afraid. He didn’t want to entertain the idea of it being one of the so called “alternates” that have been popping up frequently around that time, though when he caught a glimpse of it, he realized he should.

The thing was stumbling around, partially covering its grotesque face, which from what Seth could see, was mostly jagged teeth in a large maw. It was wearing what seemed like a police uniform, which was stained in splotches of red. It was screaming, groaning in either pain or general discomfort. When Seth saw it appear from behind one of the buildings, he backed away, looking towards the fence to his right before realizing that the shortcut was the better alternative.

He hastily climbed over it, landing on the dirt before turning around, still hearing the faint screaming as he backed away into the junkyard. He didn’t think it saw him, though despite that, he decided to walk further into the yard, weaving in between rusted cars as he tried to shake off the feeling of dread in his chest; the feeling that something bad was about to happen to him. He was almost at the opposite edge of the junkyard, seeing the other fence before he prepared to climb over it.

“HEY!”

Seth felt his soul get startled out of him before he turned around and let his breath out. Luckily, or unluckily for him, it wasn’t the owner of the property; instead…it was arguably worse. It was one of his aforementioned…“friends;” a man he couldn’t remember the last name of, though from what he remembered, the man’s name was Holt.

“Jesus Christ…” Seth sighed, staring at Holt, who seemed particularly pissed off. “The hell do you want?”

“Where were you?” Holt asked with a hint of aggression in his voice. “We haven’t seen you in over a month.”

“So what? I stopped drinking a while ago.” Seth answered. “Thought you’d figure that out.”

Seth glanced behind Holt, seeing two other goons standing to the side of him; unlike Holt, Seth couldn’t remember their names at all. He mentally called them Fuckwad 1 and 2.

“You know how many drinks I bought for you?” Holt asked. “I was just trying to be your friend, yet you never thought to pay me back.”

“Oh…this is what this is about?” Seth asked, taking his cigarette out of his mouth and throwing it in front of Holt’s feet. He stared down at the man in front of him, suddenly remembering how much shorter Holt was than he remembered. “Listen, if you’re gonna beg someone for money, go find someone else to bother, alright? I’ve had a long night.”

Seth turned to walk away, but was stopped when Fuckwad 1 and 2 stood in front of him, stopping him in his tracks; oh boy.

“Listen Seth, you don’t just fucking…abandon your friends like that.” Holt stated as Seth turned back towards him.

“First off, none of you bastards are my friends,” Seth stated, his nose twitching slightly. “And secondly, I never abandoned you. I left cause I’d rather not live off of booze and end up on the street again, okay? Why don’t you and your group leave me be instead of acting like a sorry piece of shit that deserves my money.”

Holt seemed slightly intimidated by Seth’s steely gaze, though decided to push further despite it. “What kind of pathetic, cheap piece of shit are you?” He questioned. “Look, you were nothing before we met you. We helped you get on your feet; I mean, so many people fear you now! You’re a monster in a fight against those losers, yet you thank me like this?”

“I only fought cause I needed the money, no other reason.” Seth stated, leaning over Holt slightly. “I’m not doing it for fucking glory; if anything, those fights made my life worse. I don’t care about the fights, I don’t care about you or your friends, and I sure as hell don’t need you to make things worse for me by bringing me back to that fucking bar.”

Seth leaned away, backing up and pushing the other two out of the way, preparing to head home. “You used me. I don’t think you deserve thanks.”

“Look at this sack of shit.” Holt said, looking for approval from his friends. “No wonder no one loves you.”

Seth froze when he heard that statement.

“Fuck this dude, man.” One of the other men said. “It’s not worth it.”

“What did you say?” Seth turned slightly, seeing that Holt was still staring at him.

“You think I never listened to your rambles when you were drunk off your ass?” Holt continued, despite one of his friends being visibly uncomfortable about it. “I mean…I’m sure people would like to know about your past, right?”

“For fucks sake man, let’s get out of this dump.” The other man’s statement didn’t even register in Seth’s mind.

“What the hell do you know?” Seth asked, his voice low and gravely.

“Oh…I don’t know…remember when you told me about the closet?”

That

Mother

Fucker.

Seth’s fists curled as he approached Holt, fire in his eyes. “How the fuck do you know about that?” He questioned.

Holt had a stupid cocky look on his face. “You want me to tell them about it?”

Seth’s nose twitched again before he curled his fist even harder, his knuckles popping; that’s it. He slammed his fist against Holt’s nose, breaking it almost instantly. He stepped back, groaning as he held his hand over it, his eyes watering and blood seeping through his fingers. Seth grasped the front of Holt’s jacket, holding him closer. “Listen to me, and listen close…” Seth growled. “If I catch you in my sight again, I won’t be so nice, you hear? You pull any shit, and I’ll gut you like a fucking fish, you understand?”

Holt didn’t respond, but instead gave a slight nod, his hand reaching into his pants pocket. “U-Uh huh…” He said, flicking open the switchblade in his hand. “I get it.”

Seth barely caught a glimpse of the weapon before Holt slashed at him, lightly grazing Seth’s face. He yelled in surprise, stumbling back and hunching over as he held the slash with his hand. It luckily didn’t seem to hit anything important; though it did leave a large gash in his top lip, and it lightly grazed his bottom lip and nose. It stung like hell as the cool night air hit the open wound, blood pouring down his face and staining his clothes.

“DUDE!” One of Holt’s friends ripped the knife from his hand as the other scratched the back of his head. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“He attacked me first! You guys fucking saw it!” Holt yelled.

“Yeah, but a fucking knife?!” The second friend asked.

“Dude, we need to get out of here before the cops get called…” The first friend sighed.

“YOU SHITHEAD!”

Holt glanced back at Seth, barely processing that he was holding a steel bar in his hand, lunging towards him with it. He didn’t have the chance to react before Seth slammed it against the side of his head, a loud yell coming from Holt as he fell to the ground, his stunned friends backing away.

“Oh fuck this—” One of them muttered before high-tailing it out of there.

Holt felt immensely disoriented, and his head throbbed from the large gash on the side of his skull, though didn’t have the time to recuperate before Seth bashed his shin with the pipe, it audibly cracking. Holt screamed again, Seth staring down at him before raising the pipe, his eyes wide and bloodshot before hands grasped the pipe in his hand. He looked to see one of Holt’s friends trying to prevent him from delivering another blow before Seth let go of the pipe and elbowed him as hard as he could in the stomach, causing him to fall nearly immediately after.

Holt saw his knife lying on the ground, grasping it before weakly standing up, nearly passing out when he felt the sharp pain in his cracked leg. Seth stared at him, storming towards him before Holt slashed at him, causing a long gash to appear in Seth’s chest, tearing the clothes over it and staining them with blood. Seth punched Holt in the stomach as he yelled, grasping Holt’s hand before wrestling the knife out of it, throwing it to the dirt below.

Seth slammed Holt against one of the old cars, cracking the side window as he began to throw punch after punch, bloodying up his knuckles and causing blood to pour down Holt’s face and chest from the gashes. Seth wrapped his bruised hands around the man’s neck, squeezing until his yells were nothing but choked groans. Holt stared up at Seth’s fury-filled eyes, though when Seth met his gaze his gaze began to soften.

Seth could sense something emitting from Holt’s stare; not cockiness, not malice, nothing even close.

He was scared.

He was fucking terrified.

Holt believed whole-heartedly that he was about to die. Seth was feared, just like he had said.

He really was a monster, huh?

Seth let go of Holt’s neck as he slinked to the ground, falling on his side as he gasped, coughing as he held his now red throat. Seth glanced up, seeing his friend on the ground around ten feet away, staring at him with pure fear in his eyes; Seth hated it. Seth focused his gaze on the man lying next to his boots before grimacing. “Get up.” He growled, half wanting to prove to himself Holt was alright, and that he didn’t hurt him as badly as it seemed. Holt didn’t budge however, barely moving at all. “G…GET UP!” Seth shouted.

Holt, whether out of fear or desperation, stood up, and limped away, his friend helping him stand when Holt made it to him. Seth stared at the two, trembling as he felt the fear coming from them. “…get out of my fucking sight.” He said quietly. Holt hurried as much as he could on a cracked leg, luckily being helped by his one remaining friend before they disappeared out of sight.

Seth’s furious expression softened as he sat on the ground, leaning against the car behind him. His elbows stung, and he could feel blood running from his chest and lip, but when he saw the blood that wasn’t his own staining his hands, he felt…sadness. He furrowed his brows, beginning to breathe heavily before grasping his hair in his hands and bouncing his leg up and down.

He felt adrenaline coursing through his veins, though could still feel the exhaustion creeping up on him. He hurt, and he had no clue how to even begin to process how he was feeling emotionally. The discomfort and pain in his body only made everything he felt more unbearable; even the cool dirt under him felt like he was sitting on cold pushpins. It was all too much, and the guilt that was beginning to set in forced the tears out of his eyes, despite how much he wanted to keep them inside.

Maybe Holt was right. Maybe there was a reason no one loved him.

[greenkirbkid456u]

Drew them again x3

[coffeecat1983]

The Stars (Aren't the Same Without You) Mario movie AU (death warning)

A blackout had hit the city, leaving the once bright, vibrant buildings dark. It was late, nearly eleven at night and the streets were quiet in the Brooklyn neighborhood, most opting to stay in with the glow of flashlights, candles, and cellphone screens as long as they stayed charged up. At one building the rooftop door opened, and a lone figure walked out. His dark brown hair was lightly ruffled by the breeze as he put his hands in his pockets and stared up at the clear sky. With the city lights gone, the stars shone brightly along with the crescent moon, twinkling diamonds set in a cloak of the darkest blue. The sight matched the warm sweater Luigi was wearing, a gift from Mario. The stars on it had little eyes and they looked out on the world around them. Moving over to the bench he sat down, sighing as he swallowed hard. He had hoped coming up here wouldn't bring those old memories, but they burst into his mind in a violent flood of emotion…

"Aw the power's out!" eight-year-old Mario pouted, dropping his Nintendo controller. Luigi was behind him up on the bunk bed, clutching a pillow. A light bounced down the hall and their mother's voice reached them.

"Boys? Are you okay?" she pushed the door open, her concerned eyes immediately on her sons. "Yeah, but we can't play!" Mario said. "And it's so dark." Luigi whimpered.

Coming in, Marianna sat on the bed and put her arm around Luigi. Mario got up on her other side, still sulking and grumbling about 'nothing to do'. "Now c'mon, I know it's no fun being in the dark but there is something we can do." she said with a smile. "Get your coats and shoes on." More curious than confused, the bros did as she asked and followed her out of the apartment and up to the roof. Guiding them to the center, she kneeled. "Now, look up." Both did and were stunned. With the lights from the city gone, the stars stood out in the sky. "Wow…" Luigi breathed softly. "Whenever the lights go out and the weather's good, you can see the stars up here." she said. Marianna then began pointing out the big and little dippers and the north star. Luigi, still a little nervous from the blackout, held tightly to Mario's hand as they looked up. Feeling his twin's fingers around his own brought comfort and he relaxed, taking in the view. "Mario, how many stars are there?" he asked softly. "There's gotta be bajillions of em! Bet there's other worlds, too. And I wanna see em!" Luigi thought about it. "Can I come too, when you see em?" Mario laughed. "Yeah! You gotta come with!"

Another memory took over, squeezing the very breath from Luigi's lungs…

The buzz of the hospital was blocked by the heavy sliding glass doors in the ICU. Luigi sat by the bedside and watched Mario as he slept. His face was pale, his breathing labored.

There had been an accident at the wrecking site. They had been working up on the second floor, tearing out old, leaking plumbing when the water warped floor gave way. Luigi managed to jump and roll aside but Mario had been right in the center as it gave out. Heavy flooring, metal, and pipes crashed down on the older twin. They had managed to dig him out and he was rushed to the hospital, but doctors didn't have much hope. Mario stirred, weary blue eyes meeting Luigi's. Weak fingers tried to squeeze his little brother's hand as his eyes closed again. "Weege…"he mumbled, "I…I can see the stars." he breathed out, growing still.

Luigi wrapped his arms around himself, tears falling onto his sleeves as he cried. He didn't hear the rooftop door open and the footsteps until his mother was beside him, loving arms pulling him into a warm embrace. "I miss him, Ma. I miss him so much!" "I know, sweetheart," she said softly, "I do, too." He shuddered as he wept. "The stars aren't the same without him."

By "CC"

Inspired by this artwork, with warm thanks to @fungalfalls

[somesortofitalianroast]

Bucky Barnes Bingo 2023 Masterpost: Blackout!

B1: AU: Coffee shop - Gen - James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark - No archive warnings apply - 1283 - A holiday party at Wide Awake.

U1: AU: no powers - Teen - Tony/Bucky; Jane/Darcy - No archive warnings apply - 3352 - A Spinster for a Duke; A Merchant for a Soldier

C1: Kink: body worship - Explicit - Bucky/Scott Lang - No archive warnings apply - 1737 - To touch is to heal (to hurt is to steal)

K1: "Dying ain't so bad" - Mature - Bucky/Scott Lang - No archive warnings apply - 1332 - and the night would be enough

Y1: Holiday fic - Teen - Steve/Bucky - No archive warnings apply - 1082 - Fireworks in Brooklyn

B2: Denial - Mature - Bucky Barnes/Darcy Lewis - No archive warnings apply - 1729 - Autumn in Vermont (Chapter 1: A MixUp at the Rental House)

U2: Thor - Explicit - Steve/Thor; Steve/Bucky/Thor - No archive warnings apply - 3612 - a cabin in the woods

C2: Kink: Bath/shower sex - Explicit - Shrinkyclinks | Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes/Non-Serum Steve Rogers - No archive warnings apply - 1362 - bloodied knuckles and the beginnings of a black eye

K2: Adopting a pet - Gen - Tony/Bucky - No archive warnings apply - 1691 - A Kitten for a Sergeant

Y2: Pic: Bucky from TFATSW - Mature - Bucky/Darcy - No archive warnings apply - 967 - Alphas and Omegas and Heats, Oh My! (Chapter 2)

B3: Two Halves of a Whole Idiot - Gen - Scott Lang/Steve Rogers - No archive warnings apply - 1191 - in handcuffs on RICO charges

U3: Meet Cute - Teen - Stucky - No archive warnings apply - 1244 - Touch [The Bucky Barnes Remix]

C3: FREE - Teen - Steve Rogers/Tony Stark - No archive warnings apply - 1158 - I need your loving (I stab you in the back)

K3: Hurt/Comfort - Gen - Bucky/Scott Lang - No archive warnings apply - 1589 - Of coffee shops, hockey, and poké

Y3: Little Sister - Mature - Bucky/Darcy - No archive warnings apply - 1642 - well, this is awkward

B4: Image of WS in Murderstrut (swapped with RebelMeg) - mature - James "Bucky" Barnes/Qui-Gon Jinn - creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - 2149 - Of broken bonds, secret relationships, and mad scientists

U4: Pic of Seb - Mature - Pre-Stucky - No archive warnings apply - 1798 - of practical jokes and secret admirers

C4: Through a scope - mature - steve/scott - No archive warnings apply - 4300 - Scenes from an Italian Restaurant [chat version]

K4: Canon compliant - Teen - N/A - Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings - 872 - Erik Lehnsherr and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

Y4: AU: Hospital - Teen - Clint Barton & Darcy Lewis, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers - No archive warnings apply - 1601 - “So, come here often?”

B5: recovery - Mature - Darcy Lewis/Buckhy Barnes - No archive warnings apply - 1059 - Alphas and Omegas and Heats, Oh My! (Chapter 1)

U5: Music - Mature - Darcy Lewis/Buckhy Barnes - No archive warnings apply - 1442 - Autumn in Vermont (Chapter 2: An Accidental Kiss.... )

K5: Guns - Teen - Clark Kent/Darcy Lewis - No archive warnings apply - 1147 - In Metropolis, even the mild-mannered reporters are bulletproof

Y5: Cat Dad - Gen - Bucky/Steve - No archive warnings apply - 1324 - Bucky Barnes. Author. Cat Dad.

Adopted: Enemies to Lovers - Mature - Bucky/Darcy - No archive warnings apply - 827 - Autumn in Vermont (Chapter 3: Bucky and Stella?)

@buckybarnesbingo

[kandisheek]

Cap-IM Bingo 2023 Round 1 Masterpost

Here’s a masterpost for all of my bingo fills for this round. I got a blackout (whoop whoop!), so here we go:

We Are Briefly Gorgeous Square: S1 - He Wants That Tony finds himself in a gay bar right after signing his divorce papers, drowning his sorrows. Turns out the handsome stranger that chats him up is just the distraction he needs.

Rapt Attention Square: S2 - Learn A New Skill Tony is a little baffled by Steve's sudden interest in his work. Apparently he wants to learn more about engineering, which is fine by Tony. He'd never keep anyone from following their passion. Little does he know that Steve is a lot more curious about the man behind the machines than the machines themselves.

Art: Stony intimacy Square: S3 - Art Format: Close-Up

Art: Angsty Wing AU Square: S4 - AU of Your Choice

Dolphins Do It Better Square: S5 - Questionable Decision-Making Process Tony keeps looking for a way to make Steve come hard enough to completely satisfy him. He thinks he's finally found the perfect solution.

When The Party's Over Square: T1 - Hospitals When Natasha calls him to ask for help after Siberia, Tony almost doesn't go. It's only because she's not with the rogues that he ends up coming in for an assist. Of course, when he does, everything goes to shit. And who is it that ends up saving him? Steve motherfucking Rogers. As if Tony doesn't have enough problems already.

Art: Steve and Tony flying Square: T2 - Hug-And-Fly

Art: Lazy Centaur Steve and Tony sketch Square: T3 - Horses

Art: Ninja concept art Square: T4 - Ninja

Art: Stony in a Storm Square: T5 - Lightning Strikes

My Jolly Sailor Bold Square: O1 - AU: Underwater Toni knows it's strange that she's never felt the urge to sing for any of the sailors passing through her reef. Her sisters seem to think that sharing pleasure with a human is one of the greatest joys in life, but Toni has never seen the appeal. Then a ship carries a beautiful woman into Toni's waters. And Toni finally understands what her sisters meant.

When Hell Freezes Over Square: O2 - Do You Feel What I Feel? Tony ingests a drug that amps his insecurities up to eleven. It seems like he's extremely susceptible to Steve's opinion specifically, now that he's like this. Steve has no idea what to make of it. He only knows that trying to take care of Tony without accidentally revealing his feelings for him is going to be virtually impossible. He does it anyway.

Never Worlds Apart Square: O3 - Free Space It's been six years since he's seen Tony when he walks into his favorite diner and sees him sitting in their old booth, as if nothing ever happened. Steve can't believe the nerve of Tony to just show up out of the blue after the way he ended things. Turns out Tony has a reason for wanting to make amends. And Steve doesn't appreciate only finding out about it after Tony has already almost died.

A Guiding Hand Square: O4 - Hidden Depths Tony is perpetually stressed. His job, his divorce and his insomnia are making his life a living hell. He just can't seem to catch a break. That is until his boss Steve inadvertently gives him exactly what Tony needs - a firm hand. Tony hasn't played with his submissive tendencies in years, but he knows an opportunity when he sees one. And as it turns out, Steve is more than happy to give him the guidance he craves.

Sparks Are Gonna Fly Square: O5 - Car Race Tony drives the 1-California in San Francisco. The highlight of his day, every day, is sharing a smile and a nod with the hot guy that drives the 8-Bayshore. Tony has never actually talked to the guy, but he's pretty sure that they have a connection. Then, one day, some guy picks a fight during Tony's shift and ends up cutting his bus in half. If you had asked Tony earlier, he would've said that there is no way anything positive can come from an experience like that. Except when it turns out to be his golden opportunity to actually meet the Bayshore-hottie.

The Devil's Staircase Square: N1 - Writing Format: Emulate Someone Else’s Style “Do you remember who I was inside?” Entire lives inside that dream. Hushed words and whispered promises. Tony remembered all too well. Inside, Steve had called him love. Outside, Steve called him traitor.

Turbulence Square: N2 - Weather Is Out Of Control Steve has a major headache, and the businessman douchebag yelling into his phone at the airport isn't helping. There's only so much Steve can stand before he gets up and puts the guy in his place. Finding out that they're actually seat neighbors is beyond awkward. Especially when Steve's anxiety kicks in as they fly right through a storm. But as it turns out, the guy isn't as much of a douchebag as Steve first thought.

The Art of Winning Square: N3 - Attainable Goals During an Avengers bootcamp, Steve gets the mission to make Tony say the words "You win" or "I give up" to Steve specifically. Which would be fine if Tony didn't seem completely incapable of admitting defeat. In the end, desperate times call for desperate measures. And it's not like it was Steve's idea to play gay chicken. He can hardly be held responsible for the consequences.

Art: Stony take on The Astronomer by Johannes Vermeer Square: N4 - Art Format: Parody of a Famous Painting

It Don't Get Hot Like This In Heaven Square: N5 - Alien Planet Tony gets thrown into a dimension where the dinosaurs survived and evolved as the dominant species on the planet. This universe's version of Steve Rogers has terrifyingly sharp teeth and an even tougher skin than usual, but other than that he's Captain America through and through. He's also incredibly attractive. And Tony has never been known for his impulse control.

Making Up The Reasons Square: Y1 - Writing Format: Character Study The Avengers all get reverted back to the age when they lost their virginity. It's funny until it isn't.

Those Who Mind Don’t Matter Square: Y2 - Left My Wallet In My Other Suit Tony is an omega and therefore coveted by most of the alpha population. However, to everyone's surprise and outrage, he gets together with Steve, a beta. Steve knows he shouldn't care what anyone else says, but you can only read so many headlines calling you unworthy and inadequate before you start to question yourself. What if Tony would be happier with an alpha?

Running With The Wolves Square: Y3 - Duty Everyone knows that the running of the wolves is rigged. So Steve isn't surprised when he is chosen as this year's sacrifice after offending Lord Hammer at the ball. The lycans guard their secrets well, so in the end Steve won't even know which one of them will end his life during the chase. What Steve doesn't know is that he has already caught the eye of one of the lords. And that a lycan protects his own until the day he dies.

Destiny Deserves Another Chance Square: Y4 - No Talent But High Hopes Steve is absolutely starstruck by the pirate who saves his village from destruction. When the mayor offers an omega's hand as a reward for his heroic deed, Steve wants nothing more than to be whisked away towards a better life. Anywhere would be better than here. He's devastated when the alpha chooses Sunset Bain instead. He never even looks at Steve, which makes sense, considering Steve looks nothing like a proper omega should, what with his height and muscles. It's probably better that he was spared the humiliation. And it's not like Steve has a chance to win the pirate's heart now that he's promised to another. Or so he thinks.

Where There Is Desire Square: Y5 - Stretching The cave that Steve and Tony stupidly get themselves trapped in demands a sacrifice of innocence to set them free. Steve offers to sacrifice his virginity. Tony fucking loves hates magic.

[yourlocaltrashcan657]

Mental Hospital AU! Yandere! Attack on Titan x Female Reader Chapter 21- Blackout

Walking to her shared office, Y/N saw a hooded figure lurking around the place but paid no attention to it. As she walked in, Y/N saw Erwin and Hange talking together. Hange seemed to be smirking whilst Erwin stayed calm and had a bit of pink turns on his face.

”Ah Y/N!” Hange said before giving a bone crushing hug to her. “How have you been?”

”Im alright.! Sorry I couldn’t make it to the drinks party, I had a bit of an accident.” Y/N explained.

”It’s alright!” Hange said before turning back to Erwin and smiling. “Say.. why don’t you two talk whilst I go do something?”

”Hange I know what you’re doing and you have to stop.” Erwin said as his eyebrows furrowed.

”What?! I’m not doing anything-“ Hange began to say.

The lights went out. Not a single light was on and it was pitch black. Down the hallway, Y/N could hear loud voices as people tried to figure out what was going on. Suddenly a large bang was leg of in the distance.

”I’ll go with Moblit to the backup generator!” Hange said whilst grabbing a flashlight and running off with Moblit.

”Y/N stay close to me.” Erwin said as he grabbed her and pulled her closer to him.

”Bertolt..” Y/N muttered.

”What about him?” Erwin asked. “If you’re saying we have to go check on him it’s fine-“

”Bertolt is scared of the dark. It’s not just that.. we have to make sure all of the patients are in their cells!” Y/N said before walking off slowly, touching the walls to make sure she was going the right way.

”Wait!” Erwin said before grabbing her hand. “I’m sure they are all fine! You’re just getting into more danger like this.”

”But you already know how dangerous some of them are! Think about it, Levi or Reiner could break out of their handcuffs the longer we stay in the dark!” Y/N explained. “No.. Ymir, Krista and Sasha are in danger too! I have to get to them-“

”I’ll go find them for you, you go to the patients and make sure all the doors are locked according to the security system plans.” Erwin said as he squeezed her hands and left.

Making her way into Ward 1, a red light began to flicker. Hange and Moblit had probably gotten to the backup generator and turned on the lights.. but why were they red? Looking at all the cell doors, they seemed to all be open.

Panicking, Y/N made her way into Eren’s Cell to see him missing. The same with Armin, Connie, Reiner, Bertolt and unfortunately Levi. Whilst looking in Jean’s Cell, Y/N saw him clutching onto his ears and rocking himself on the floor.

”Jean!” Y/N called out as she cautiously walked over to him. “Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?”

”N-no.. I keep hearing gun shots and screaming and it’s scaring me! Is Marco okay?! What about you?!” Jean frantically asked. 

“Calm down.! I have everything under control, I just need you to tell me what happens when the lights went out, okay?” Y/N asked nicely.

”When the lights went out, all the doors opened. At first I thought it was a trick so I stayed put until I saw Bertolt and Reiner carrying out hints and running. I also saw Eren with Armin. I don’t know about Connie..” Jean quickly ranted.

”what about Levi?” Y/N asked as she soothed him. “Did you see him go anywhere?”

”H-he had a shard of glass and his hands were bleeding.” Jean said.

”Okay Jean, keep breathing nicely like this okay? I’m gonna have you hold onto my hand whilst we go back to the staff room. They’ll keep you there until we figure out the situation further.” Y/N explained.

The two held hands as they walked back until Y/N looked into Bertolt’s room once again. As she walked in, she realised ,unlike last time, it was much messier and lots of things were scattered across the floor. His lamp was shattered and there never was a light bulb in there to begin with..

”Jean let’s go back-“ Y/N began to say only to see Jean had disappeared. “Jean! Where did you go?! Jean!”

Cursing under her breath, Y/N proceeded to walk further down the Hospital. What had happened to Ymir, Krista and Sasha? Did Erwin find them?

Walking into the backup generator room, Y/N saw that it had been destroyed. Walking back out she met eyes with the very same eyes that she would soon wish she would never see again.