#I need to be SEDATED I need to be PUT DOWN LIKE A DOG | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

callsign-marlie · 2 years

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Acts of Service (18+)

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x wife!reader warning: 18+ (minors dni!!!), unedited, porn with plot, switching perspective, bradley's an ass man, massage, f-feet for a line?, oral (f receiving), reader gets the softest ride of her life, unprotected s3x (please wrap it before you tap it), face down ass up that's the way we like to fUCK, dog tag kink, creampie finish summary: a stressful day leaves rooster's hardworking wife in need of a massage. she's lucky rooster's got the "magic touch" to make all of her pain disappear. a/n: @mandoowhorian wanted Rooster the Ass Man™ giving back shots and i am a simple woman, who am i to deny? HAVE A WHOLE ASS (pun intended!) FIC, CONGRATULATIONS FOR GETTING MY BRAINWORM STIMULATED.

--- Rooster liked to think he's a kind man. He donated to charity, helped little old ladies cross the street and even volunteered some time at the local children's hospital to read stories to the kids there. He found joy in helping others feel better. Seeing a smile on someone else's face because of a simple gesture he did made him feel incredibly warm inside. Yes, it was fulfilling, yet no act of kindness compared to that of helping his incredibly hardworking wife unload after a hard day. The man was whipped, much to Hangman's devious delight, but Rooster couldn't care less. She stumbled into his life one drunken night at the Hard Deck and has been his other half ever since. He wasn't enough of a romantic sucker to believe in love at first sight; but then, he met her. To him, she hung the moon in his sky and had since only changed his life for the better. He learned how to keep their home clean, do the laundry, hell, even cook all thanks to his incredible wife.

He found that the bare minimum made her the happiest like a surprise bouquet of flowers or making her coffee in the morning. The bar was so low on the ground, every small token of affection gave her stars in her eyes. "No one I've been with has ever been this kind to me," she had said one night, crying over a basket of goodies he had made for her to help her through a particularly bad period that left her stuck on the couch for a week. On the day of their wedding, Bradley swore into the ring he placed on her finger to do everything in his power to keep that smile on her face.

So, when his wife came home with a scowl on her lips and her brows furrowed in pain, Rooster knew what he had to do.

"Honey? You good?"

He was sweatpants clad only and was folding their laundry into piles, having gotten home from base early thanks to the forecasted thunderstorm landing a few hours before it was supposed to. Grounded and drenched, he pulled rank and took the evening off to help his wife with the chores they've both been ignoring recently: dishes, dusting, vacuuming, and conquering the dreaded Laundry Chair in the corner of their room.

She gave him a weak smile, shrugging her jacket off and shaking her wet hair out of its slicked pony tail. "Yeah, yeah, I'm ok. Just really sore after today."

Bradley took his time folding down a pair of her scrubs and was careful not to crease them. "A patient gave you a fight huh?"

"Yeah, and the patient was in the form of a chunky, 140 pound Bernese Mountain Dog who didn't wanna be sedated for his teeth extraction."

She went down on the living room floor in all fours, spreading her arms out above her head to a modified child's pose. Her arms were long outstretched above her and a tiny expanse of her low back was revealed under her folding scrub top. His eyes travelled further up and Bradley just couldn't take his eyes off that ass.

Holy hell, was he a lucky man.

Rooster loved every ounce of his wife even before they got married, but he was so incredibly glad that she had been putting on some weight recently. Why? One, because he knew he was feeding her well and two, because it all somehow ended up going to that glorious, incredible ass. She would complain all the time that she was 'eating too good, her scrubs were getting tight', and had to do little jumping squats to try to squeeze into them. The image didn't stop Bradley imagining her riding on top of him with her cheeks smacking against the top of his thighs.

She let out a tiny, muffled groan. "God, that's the stuff."

"You want a massage? It might make you feel a little better," Bradley said, tossing one of her lacy thongs on top of the underwear pile.

"Mmhmmm, please baby, that'd be wonderful," his goddess muttered, rolling herself over onto her back. Her hair was damp down to her shoulders, her smile angelic and her arms were crossed over top of her head. What he wouldn't do to pin those hands above her and kiss his way down her body, feel her skin heat up under his lips and hear the most holy of moans fall from her lips...

Stop. This isn't about you, Rooster.

He helped her sit up and removed her tight scrub top. He caught a pretty pink blush crested her cheeks at her sudden nakedness left in only her bra. He ghosted a small kiss on the tip of her nose. "It gives me better access. Get on the couch."

He took each laundry pile and placed them precariously on the freshly vacuumed floor. She took her position on the couch, chest pressed provocatively into the velour. She crossed her ankles in the air to show Rooster the tops of her feet and perfect manicured toes. The brat tossed him a wicked little wink over her shoulder. He grinned just as fiendishly, forcing her feet down to sit on the back of her thighs and gave her a teasing spank on the bum. The flesh rippled beneath the fabric of the lycra and he could imagine the gentle pink blooming on her skin.

"Enough of that, you little minx! Here, put the pillow under your hips."

She let him guide the throw under her, her lower back letting out a satisfying pop at the induced flexion. "Ohhhh my god, I sound like a glow stick," she muttered, her face flopping to the sofa in defeat. "I'm all ready for you, baby. Just... just make the hurt go away"

Bradley rubbed his palms together to warm them before letting them dust across the surface of her skin. "You know I give good massages, right?"

She shivered at the touch, letting out a small chuckle. "Only if you consider good massages feeling like a train running over my spine!"

Bradley sat up straight on his knees, hands on his hips. "Now Mrs. Bradshaw, that wasn't very nice! You hurt my feelings!"

"Just telling it as is, Lieutenant Bradshaw. You can fly a plane well, but you didn't really luck out in the hand dexterity department." She turned around to put her face on her hand, elbow propped under the sofa cushion. "You have yet in our year of marriage to convince me of these rumored 'magic fingers' of yours."

He laughed out loud, "Oh really now? Just you wait then, Mrs. B. Be back in a flash."

He scooted off the couch to rush to the bathroom, grabbing the rose oil that she liked to use after her baths. It was a thicker liquid and the smell was quite intoxicating: definitely his favorite scent on her. Plus, the shine it gave her legs after using it was his absolute favorite.

He hopped back into his position on the couch and rubbed a bit of the sticky liquid between his palms. The oil conducted his body heat and he rubbed the soothing musk over the tops of her shoulders. Immediately, she relaxed into a mewl.

"Ohhh, the rose oil. Now show me the magic, baby."

"Yes ma'am," he replied, gently working the fluid into her skin. The shine that rose out gave her a sparkling hue under the standing lamp. He rubbed slowly and deeply under her shoulder blades, making sure to press out all of the small knots that crinkled under the bone. She was breathing deeply, definitely enjoying the pressure and the smells that surrounded her.

"Mmm, lower please," she moaned. Bradley spotted a small drool spot near the corner of her mouth. "How are the magic fingers treating you, baby?" His voice was soft, the tinking of the pouring rain outside louder than he was. He was leaned over her form, putting pressure on the apex of her shoulders to smooth the muscles outside to her arms.

"You have a little more to do before I can give a proper review," she grinned, moving her hair to the side away from the oil. "Keep it up and you may get a prize."

Bradley continued to work, reapplying the oil to his hands a few times before he escaped to her lower back. He pressed a particularly tender point and she seized up for a moment. He backed off quickly. "Oh jesus, I'm sorry, you ok?"

"Y-Yeah," she sputtered, lifting her head to look behind at him. Her eyes were still glazed over in bliss. "Just... go a little gentler. 'Makes my legs hurt when you push there."

"Your legs too?" Bradley questioned, raising an eyebrow. "I have no problems massaging them as well. But, you have to take these pants off if you want the luxury assessment."

His wife groaned, attempting to loop her fingers through the front of her elastic waist band, but gave up quickly. "You gotta do it. I feel like jelly."

Bradley chuckled and shook his head, fingers pulling back the material to reveal the prize he craved the most. Her skin was gorgeous and hugged dangerously to the curve of the pretty gemstone blue thong that graced the top of her hip bones. He pulled the pants down just to the top of her thighs, reapplying his oil before getting to work.

The soft flesh of her ass kneaded into his palm. Her little moans were just too cute; he wanted to hear more. He moved down to the crest of her ass and cupped it gently, giving it another pass with the oil. "How's that?" "Sooo goooooood," she drawled, wiggling her ass between his fingers so it slid off the oil. Holy fuck.

"You have no idea how tasty that ass looks right now," he blurted, taking his time to scoop his fingers along the sides of her hips. "And I'm starving, baby. I could eat you alive."

His love sucked in a breath from the bottom of the couch. He could feel her feet rubbing together behind him. She was trying not to let him see her squirm. "O-oh yeah? We haven't eaten dinner yet though," she whimpered, the tension at the sides of her hips melting with each pass of his calloused digits.

"Fuck dinner, we're going right to dessert."

Rooster slid down the back of her thighs, his teeth nipping at the supple skin of her ass. She let out a strangled moan, the pressure from his mouth sending shivers up her spine. His cool dog tags dangled precariously off of his neck, hitting the back of her thigh with every sudden movement forward. His wife made every attempt to slither forward away from his grasp, but he held her tightly in place. A hard slap ricocheted of her skin, leaving her gasping out loud.

"B-Bradley!"

"Don't move," he growled. He was a predator now. His pupils bled dark and zeroed in on the skimpy, dampened fabric between her legs. The beautiful blue had turned a deep navy in the matter of minutes. Rooster let his fingers run along the silken material, his wife attempting to hide another whimper from his ears.

"Let me hear it," he muttered, his other hand working the muscle of her thighs. "Let me hear you."

Bradley couldn't see her face, but he knew she was flushed and panting. "I-I want..." she started, completely fumbling through her words. His fingers were dragging lazy, slow circles around her clothed clit, the fingers of his other hand still working down, down, down towards the back of her knee. "Hmmm?"

"Your mouth!" she blurted. "Fuck, I need your tongue in my pussy, Bradley, please."

He parted the fabric to the side and without a word swiped a single lick up her pussy. The moan that came from her was a release in itself; he could hear her smile through the sound. His left hand worked to spread apart her ass to give him better access. He dove in deep, her taste salty and sweet all at the same time. Two fingers from his right came around to circle her bud again and her hips struggled against the pillow propped under her hips.

"Oh my god," she cried, her wobbling wrists doing their best to support her weight. She was arching back into him now, attempting to rock against his face at the sensation.

"Delicious," he muttered through her slick. "And all for me. What a treat."

His mouth returned to biting while he let two fingers take place of his tongue. She cried out in rapture, her walls rippling around him the moment he slid them home. The heat coming off of her was intense enough that sweat rippled down the side of her forehead. She mewled and bucked in spasm as he continued his slow languid movements to fuck her through her surprise release. In and out... In... and... out.

"How'd that feel?" He mused, kissing up her spine, from the top of her tail bone up to the side of her neck. She let out a groan at his weight pressing on her, her eyebrows still knitted together at the pleasure. "M-More, Roo. I need more."

"More?" he crooned, his dog tags raking themselves against the sweat of her shoulder blades. "What a greedy little thing you are. You want more, yet I've been the one doing all the work. You take and take and don't return the favor, huh?"

She keened as his fingers suddenly quickened inside her pussy, his fingers gently pulling apart her walls, preparing her for the main event. "But that's completely fine honey," he whispered to her. He left a gentle kiss on her temple, the salt of her sweat delightful on his tongue. "Tonight's all about you. I'll take care of you, baby. I'll take care of you, you deserve it."

But just like that, his fingers were gone.

The overwhelming sense of emptiness overtook her as his weight left her back. She whimpered out loud, readjusting her body so her arms were holding up her chest. The spittle that hung from the side of her mouth should have been embarrassing, but she couldn't do anything to stop it from continuing to pool in her mouth. The man made her come so hard, she saw stars just from his fingers going inside her.

Before she knew what had happened, his hips were up against the ridges of her ass. Rooster had returned in all of his glory, stark naked by the feeling of the velvet smoothness of his cock rubbing languidly against her ass cheeks. Her head sunk back lower on her hands, forcing the arch up in her back to bare herself whole to him. He groaned in appreciation at the sight, a finger scooping some of her essence from her entrance.

The rose oil lit over her skin to make her sweet sweat stand out even more. She was glowing; a rose herself. Bradley couldn't help but let his cock rest between her ass cheeks, rubbing slowly up and down, up and down. Her slick gave him the perfect lubricant to rub between her skin. The feeling was divine.

"Holy fuck," he drawled, his head leaning back. Both hands had come back to squeeze the sides of her ass together, encasing his already hard cock in the silky heat. He could hear her little mewls underneath him, obviously the grazing of his skin against her cunt causing its own reaction to her. "You feel amazing, baby. Just incredible."

Rooster paused for a just a moment, pulling back completely before teasing the tip into her pussy. She groaned at the feeling of the thick head making way, whimpered at the pause, and felt like crying as it left her. He was so close, she was about to beg for him to just fucking take her already. He ground himself in between her ass cheeks for a few strokes again before plunging back in, this time just a bit deeper.

Every pass he'd enter deeper and deeper, her moans getting louder and more egregious. Bradley preened at the effect he had on his wife. She was a stunning, incredible beauty and only reacted this way to him. A feeling like this could get to his head.

He let his cock in all the way finally, the warmth and squeezing of her walls caused him to double over on top of her. His dog tags jingled down off of his chest to rest in the valley of her spine. He placed gentle kisses on the back of her neck; a job well done for taking him in so well. She raised her head gently in thanks, smiling up at her husband. "Want you to move, Roo," she whimpered. "Want all of you right now."

Who was he to deny such a beautiful plea?

Rooster rocked his hips gently at first, nice and slow to savor each drag of his cock against her walls. He pulled out to the tip before plunging back into the comfort of her cunt. She had keened at every thrust, the pleasure boiling inside of her stomach to a rumble. He took his hands and gently wrapped them under her chin, leaving soft kisses in her hair. Her ass bounced off of his stomach, the sound of skin on skin echoing against the pitter patter of rain on their window pane.

His wife didn't need to be fucked tonight. No, she needed to be loved. She needed to be cared for softly, gently, as if she was a piece of glass. God, he would let her know how he felt for her just by making love her her on this one night. He felt like no word he ever said was good enough to express how much he adored her. Every thrust was a love note, ever kiss was a sonnet. It would solidify every word of love and passion he had ever said. He meant every. Damn. Word.

"Mmm gonna," she whined, her eyes opening to face him. She was wanton and lovely, the flush on her cheeks extending down to the front of her chest. So beautiful, like a Renaissance painting with warm hues and lace. "Gonna come again. Baby, baby," she babbled, the word the only thing left in her head. Baby. He embraced her around her chest, just under her breasts to hold her tight to his chest. She fluttered around him, her breath stalling for a moment before she took large gasps beneath him.

He shushed her and gently rocked his hips to work her slowly through her second orgasm of the night. "Oh sweetheart," he cooed, his hands drifting down her upper back to press a little on her shining muscles again. "You're so good for me honey. You're the greatest thing that has ever happened to me, I love you so much."

She nodded quietly, still unscrambling her brain through the spasms, her breathing ragged.

The sight of his cock, pulling in and out of her weeping pussy, made him move again. His eyes were dissecting each movement: each ridge of his cock disappearing inside of her, the pull of her labia against his skin, the subtle sponge of her inner walls. He picked up his pace, watching the way that she devoured him whole. Every drive forward was met by her still-greedy pussy with the same burning intention. Her perked asshole fluttered gently with every push and pull.

The whole image of the scenario was so erotic, Bradley felt his end drawing nearer the longer he kept his eyes open. The rope in his own stomach was about to snap and shred to pieces. "B-baby," he stuttered, hunching back over her. His hands rested to cover both of her own, their fingers interlocking. "I'm so close."

"Come inside, Bradley," she said gently. Her fingers tugged slightly at his, the cool metal of their wedding rings clashing. She truly sounded like an angel, almost far off in the distance in his haze. "Come inside of me."

Permission was all he needed for him to finish. He placed his hot forehead against her upper shoulders, his moans echoing against the hollow of her spine as he filled her to the brim. She was mewling on her own at the heat flooding her body. They stayed like that for a moment, attached, basking in the aftermath of their passionate fire. His dog tags were no longer cool to the touch, pressed deeply into the lines of her skin to leave the seal of his name in her body.

She was his and only his.

Rooster withdrew and grabbed his shirt, dirty by now and did a sparse clean up. He hobbled to the bathroom, legs still shaking, to grab a cool cloth to clean his girl. After rinsing himself clean, he went back to the couch to find her still bent in the same position her hips raised. A small stream of cum was dripping down the side of her thigh, but thankfully didn't drop on the couch.

"We should have put a towel down," Bradley laughed, cleaning her thoroughly. She patted away the pillow bolstering her hips up and let her body drop flat on the couch. Her hands went to press on her lower spine and she sighed, content. "I feel better," she grinned. There was his girl. Beautiful, bright and colorful again.

They slipped into some idle chatter, ordering dinner, deciding what movie to watch for the night and the likes. Bradley had slipped his sweatpants back on and his wife had favored one of his old naval shirts that hung lose on her body for pajamas. They were cuddled back up on the couch, paying more attention to each others eyes rather than the screen.

"Who would have thought all you needed was for someone to blow your back out a little," he chirped, ego inflating just enough to issue a playful smack across his chest.

"Or maybe it was your 'magic fingers' all along!" Her smile was just infectious as he couldn't help but return it. "I won't lie, adding the oil made it feel really good. Almost like a bike running me over instead of a train."

"Abracadabra!" Bradley wiggled his fingers in her direction. Her laughter rang through the apartment as he tickled her sides, the sound just music to him.

Bradley liked to think he was a kind man. He would do anything just to keep her smiling.

---

tagging: @cherrycola27

#top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster bradshaw fanfiction #top gun maverick ff

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cbk1000 · 8 months

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Hey, remember how I wrote a fic that was literally just about two men driving around the countryside looking at animals and being gay for one another? And it was 90,000 words? And at the end I went, "That wasn't enough nothing, so I'm going to write a sequel to this?" Anyway, here's a preview from that sequel:

Merlin gave him a few biscuits to show they were still chums, and then rested for a bit with his forearms on the table, recovering his stamina and courage for the follow-up round. The pocket on his scrub top was torn, and his trousers had seen neater days in a byre. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm. The door opened, thankfully, before he had launched himself into the next round, and in came Gaius with his stethoscope round his neck, saying, “It sounded like the Blitz in here, so I thought I’d give you a hand.”

“Yeah, did it give you flashbacks?” Merlin asked cheekily, though he did not yet have the breath to be a fully-realised shit.

Gaius rolled his eyes. “Ah, Charlie. Have you been giving Merlin some trouble?”

“He’s given me all the trouble. I’m sedating him next time.”

“It’s only an ear cleaning, Merlin.”

“That’s easy for you to say. I don’t see you in here being the David to his Goliath.”

“David won, didn’t he?” Gaius replied serenely.

“Sure, if you believe a book that says some guy talked to a burning bush and he wasn’t even tripping balls.”

Gaius rolled his eyes. “Where’s Arthur?”

“Does everyone ask ‘Where’s Merlin’ when I’m gone?” Merlin demanded.

“No.”

“He’s shopping because we’re the worst gays ever and we live like two bachelors who forgot that they have to do things like actually keep replenishing the refrigerator which, turns out, doesn’t just refill itself. But I can’t believe he’s still not here. I bet he knew Charlie was coming in today and he’s sat at home right now swigging champagne and living the high life and laughing at me cutting off dog’s balls and putting in bloody ear drops.” Then his phone went, and he slipped it out of his pocket to find there was a text notification from Arthur. “His ears must have been burning.”

Gaius put on fresh gloves and knelt down stiffly to greet Charlie whilst he read the text, which said very cryptically, Ring me; I need saving.

He did so. “Hullo, it’s your handsome, charming, taller boyfriend, saying these things because he assumes if you try and refute them you’ll ruin the bit. Who do you need saving from?”

“Oh,” Arthur said on the other end of the line. “Ok. Right. Well, don’t worry, I’ll be there straight away.” Then: “I’m sorry, Olivia, I’m afraid there’s a bit of an emergency at the clinic. Right. I’ll tell him as soon as I see him. Right. But I think it’s really a pretty big emergency and I’m needed straight away. Yes, I’ll tell him. Yes. No, it’s not him on the phone, it’s one of the front desk staff. I think he’s in surgery. Yes. That’s why I’m needed. Exactly.” Merlin took the phone away from his ear for a moment to laugh.

“Are you free of her?” he asked when he had finished snorting.

“I’m hurrying across the street now, too quickly for her to follow, so I think I’m in the clear. Or else I’ll be hit by a car; either way, I'm free.”

“Is that what’s taken you so long to do the shopping? I was about to ask if you’d gone to York.”

“I’m at our very own Morrisons right across the street. I finished shopping nearly an hour ago. She ambushed me. Trixie has rabies again.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Merlin blurted out.

“Merlin,” Gaius scolded him with a frown.

“Well, sorry, but Olivia Harris thinks her bloody dog’s got bloody rabies again, so I’m pretty confident the next thing Arthur’s about to say is that she demands I go out there and fix her up with one of those rabies shots again before she’s torn limb from limb by her 14-year-old Pomeranian. Some people are too stupid to live, and I wish they wouldn’t.”

“Merlin!” Gaius barked.

“Oh, yeah, because this whole village is going to go into mourning if she cocks up her toes. Probably give Death a plaque and a hand shake when he comes for her.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Arthur said. “I’ve still got to get the shopping home, but I know she’s watching me, and if I don’t pop into the clinic for the ‘emergency’ then I might as well walk into oncoming traffic.”

“Don’t do that; I need you to help me with Charlie.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone. “Don’t,” Merlin snapped. “You dare go home or walk into oncoming traffic. I’ll drag you right out of hospital.”

He did not walk into oncoming traffic, but through the employee entrance a few minutes later, after Gaius, citing the imminent arrival of Arthur as a reason to scurry off without having so much as scratched one of Charlie’s ears had scarpered. Merlin, sensing the presence of a fellow cow wrestler, who might have been up to the gargantuan task before him, poked his head out of the exam room, said, “Get in here,” and yanked Arthur in by his shirt, in case the command had not been clear enough.

“Don’t manhandle me,” Arthur said.

“I thought you liked that,” Merlin said.

Arthur was still fresh enough to being dicked down that he coloured, very faintly, though bamboo shoots under his fingernails would not have gotten him to confess to it. He went into the overhead cabinet for some gloves, and then knelt down in front of Charlie, though all he would have had to do to meet him eye to eye was to stoop down a bit. “Hello, Charlie. Has this twat been mucking about with your ears again?” He rubbed them.

“I’ve cleaned them out and just need to put in the antibiotic drops.”

“‘Just.’ That’s like saying you ‘just’ need to build the third Pyramid of Giza,” Arthur complained.

“That’s right, I did the first bloody two, you whingeing pillock, now man up.”

“Good morning, by the way,” Arthur said, in a tone which implied very heavily it was not. Arthur had had a rare lie-in that morning whilst Merlin slipped out ahead of him, so that their last interaction had been the night previously, a shag which ought to have put him in a better mood.

“Good morning, you crotchety tit.”

“You’d be crotchety too if you’d just had to listen to Olivia Harris for an hour.”

“Well, I’m going to have to listen to her for another hour this afternoon I’m sure, so I don’t actually have any sympathy.”

“You never do.”

“He’s a rotten liar, Charlie, I’m delightful.” He hauled Arthur in by the front of his shirt, and briskly pecked him on the mouth. “In case Charlie leaves you my war widow.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a coward; he’s like a giant teddy bear.”

“Yeah, that’s why you were thinking about walking into oncoming traffic when I said you needed to help with him.”

“I was thinking of walking into oncoming traffic because I had to talk to Olivia Harris for an hour.”

The teddy bear stood cooperatively enough for his two friends, delighted to see they had multiplied, and that the second was the lovely blonde who gave him against the express advice of his stingier partner an extra biscuit; then this friend too transformed into that vile, snakeish Judas. Arthur patted his shoulders, and said, “Up” a little wearily, though he regularly bore the weight of an animal almost as heavy. He scratched all round the ears with Charlie’s hot breath in his face, and under the lax chin whilst Merlin sidled in with the drops. He managed the right ear before Charlie had quite comprehended what was happening to him; then he lunged back from Arthur with a look to show how he had wounded him.

“Whoa, there, mate,” Arthur said, catching his front legs, and pinning them to his shoulders, whilst Charlie hopped about on his hind legs, shaking his head, and whipping it about, and turning Merlin’s ministrations into something like a bloody-minded Cirque-de-Solei audition, where the interviewers were throwing roundhouses at him whilst he contorted himself for their amusement.

They were all three panting, sweaty, and dishevelled when at last the ordeal was finally over, and Charlie clumped down onto the floor, and then galloped over to the Sulking Corner because he knew that Arthur would want to make friends again with some treats, whereas Merlin would have merely called him a great baby.

“How did this morning go?” Arthur sked, squatting in front of Charlie and offering him a chicken flavoured gravy bone. “Ear drops aside.”

“Pretty well. Diggy’s bollocks are no longer amongst us, RIP. Had an emergency c-section after that; poor bitch was in labour all yesterday and still hadn’t progressed by the time her owner brought her in, but all the pups were alive and she came through the surgery just fine. Oh, and Emma says she wishes you weren’t gay. And that you’re such a soppy loser for me that it defeated her mum’s homophobia.”

Arthur looked round from Charlie and arched his eyebrow. “What? So what you mean is, today Emma confessed to being totally insane?”

“She did all but say she fancied you, so, yeah.”

“I do have a history of attracting lunatics.”

“True,” Merlin said. “It’s your arse. If you just had your personality, even crazy people would leave you alone.”

“Oh really? Maybe I should stop doing squats, then. Live out the rest of my days in peace.”

“Don’t do that,” Merlin said, and swatted him on the bum, unfortunately timed to the opening of the door, which had been opened by Gaius.

“Merlin.” He frowned.

“What? That’s one of the most innocent things I’ve ever done to him.”

“At the clinic he is your coworker, not your boyfriend. I’m not going to have another complaint from one of our clients about you sexually harassing people.”

“That was a misunderstanding.”

“So you didn’t make a lewd comment to Arthur at the front desk in front of Mrs Clarke?”

“Well I thought it was under my breath.”

“You don’t have an under your breath,” Arthur retorted.

“Arthur started it anyway,” Merlin said.

“I did not!”

“You said--”

“I don’t think Gaius needs to know what I said to know that you’re guilty,” Arthur cut in hastily.

“I’m certain I don’t,” Gaius said drily. “Nor do I want to have any inkling of 98% of what’s said between the two of you. Just keep it away from the front desk.” He jotted down something in the chart he was holding. “Do the two of you have time to see an alpaca today?”

“An alpaca?” Merlin asked.

“There’s a local breeder who’s just got a new male and bred him to several of her females without any pregnancies, and she was hoping we might nip over and take a sperm sample.”

“What am I supposed to use to collect alpaca jizz? I assume what we’ve got for the bulls won’t work.”

“We say semen, Merlin.”

“Well, regardless, semen, jizz, spunk, baby batter--what am I supposed to put it in?”

“You could use a bit of tupperware.”

“We are not using our tupperware to collect alpaca semen,” Arthur broke in.

“Calm your tits, I’m not going to make you eat out of it afterwards. Obviously we’d chuck it; you can’t erase that with a washing-up. But, yeah, not really keen on wasting some tupperware on that.”

“A sandwich baggie, then,” Gaius said with the serenity of a man who would not be sticking his hand under an orgasming alpaca.

“I’ve still got to put the shopping away. I’ll take Merlin, nip home quickly, and then drive us over to the farm.”

“You just want me to put the shopping away,” Merlin complained.

“Well I did it the last two times in a row.”

“Well I was operating on a pig.”

“You always have some excuse.”

“‘Can’t, I’m sorting out intestines’ is an extremely valid one.”

“I just find it extremely interesting that these things happen when there’s shopping to put away.”

“It’s not like I’m scheduling rectal prolapses to coincide with when we do the shopping--”

“Boys,” Gaius said.

“Oh, yeah, right, alpaca jizz,” Merlin said.

They bickered amicably all the way home and whilst refiling pantry and fridge and cupboards, comparing the number of items each had put away, and determining whether he was or wasn’t carrying a fair load, till Merlin decided to cheat by saying, “I am putting away my stuff so much faster” to ensure that Arthur finished the job.

“You’re a cock,” Arthur said.

“You’re way too easy to goad,” Merlin said.

#fic #preview #writing #merthur

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letmetellyouaboutmyfeels · 2 months

Note

Mads, I've been Autistic about what breed(s) of dog the FireFam could be and even if you don't like interact w this post I just would like to make you laugh- I may have to post multiples b/c there's A Lot. Ok, so, Bobby is a yellow lab a la Shadow from Homeward Bound and I will die on that hill. Athena is, obv, a Dobie- she's stunning, but a softy for her family but she also makes smiling look like a threat. (1/?)

Thank you for your patience dear I was rushing to finish the F&F AU and was also rather busy this weekend in general. I'm including your other three asks here as screenshots and this all is going to get a bit long so I'm putting everything below a cut to spare people's dashes!

FIRST OF ALL, HOW DARE YOU. HOW FUCKING DARE YOU.

SHADOW FROM HOMEWARD BOUND!?

I'M GOING TO DROWN IN MY OWN TEARS.

WHEN THE KID IS LIKE OH MAYBE HE WAS TOO OLD AND THEN SHADOW APPEARS BECAUSE HE'S GOING TO COME HOME TO HIS BOY NO MATTER WHAT!!!! G O D

I NEED TO BE SEDATED!!!!

Ahem.

STICK A LITTLE CROWN ON HER AND CALL HER ATHENA!

I babysat for a family that had a Doberman and he was truly a sweetheart. So protective of me and would stay glued to my side while I was there. "A softie for her family but makes smiling look like a threat" is soooooo Athena.

oh my GOD I'm DYING

Look at this baby. Pure fucking ADHD right here. *pats puppy* This guy can fit SO much anxiety and innate need to be of use in him!

I'M FUCKING HOWLING OVER EDDIE. LOOK YOU'RE NOT... YOU'RE NOT WRONG ABOUT THE CORGI COMMENT. THERE ARE TEARS IN MY EYES. BUT.

This is still Eddie in my opinion.

Someone send that bit about Chim to Kenneth Choi I think he'd find it hysterical.

BEHOLD. CHIMNEY HAN. Look at those EARS.

I also personally could see Chim as a greyhound or a whippet.

Chim's just got this fastness about him that makes me think of that kind of dog. Is this me remembering how he literally just SPRINTED away from Albert while playing basketball because he panicked about lying? Maybe. You can't prove anything.

I had to remind myself what a Chow Chow is and OHMYGOD IT'S SO FLUFFY???

However I always saw Hen as a Great Pyrenees.

These things will fuck you UP. They're flock dogs but not in the Border Collie sense. They don't herd. They kill the predators that try to go after the flock. They will chase down the wolves and destroy them. And they are super super SUPER protective of and gentle with kids. They ADORE kids. So that's my two cents there!

Ohmygod Maddie is SUCH a Border Collie.

INCH resting that you say Standard Poodle for Karen...

Poodles are actually what my mom grew up with and she's always talked about how smart and wonderful they are, she's owned three in her lifetime and adores them. I know they kinda have this stereotype of being snooty but I think they're great and they ARE so fucking smart holy shit. They're smarter than some humans I've met.

However. Chris.

I'm gonna have to fight you (lovingly) on this one, Nonny.

I will say that when I googled this dog I laughed so fucking hard my ribs hurt. I CRIED.

They are very cute as puppies!

However. I must counter-argue and say that Christopher is...

AN ENGLISH CREAM DACHSHUND

*sobbing* look at how CUTE it is!!!!!

*continues sobbing over the cute*

Anyway thus concludes the nonny's opinions, and mine! I had a good laugh over this series of asks, thank you nonny. I hope you had a good weekend.

#mads answers things #911 abc #firefam

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welcome-to-the-shit-library · 2 months

Text

“Or, are you really so spineless that you'd fold over some bullshit, trivial threat on my life?” “This isn’t ‘trivial! ’” Moodboard

#i need them exploded I hate it here I can’t do this #I’m goig to puke #charlie plays persona 5 #I need to be SEDATED I need to be PUT DOWN LIKE A DOG

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dancingwiththoughts · 26 days

Text

Medwhump May Day 4: Sedated

So I wasn't too sure how to write sedation, so I figured that drugging was good enough. Here's a little excerpt from on of my fanfics that I'll link below, along with a quick sketch.

TW: Drugging

But if he was going to knock Alastor out, he’d need something stronger.

Normally, Angel was strongly opposed to drugging people. He’d had it done to him plenty of times, and it wasn’t pleasant. But this was a special case; if Alastor wouldn’t rest on his own, Angel was going to make him.

And it wasn’t like he was going to use anything dangerous.

Angel opened up one of the cabinets, moving aside a pile of plates. And there was the medicine.

Charlie had hidden small stashes of meds around the hotel; she didn’t know that Angel had found most of them, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

Angel dug around a bit until he found what he was looking for. The bottle of melatonin was still full. He grabbed a handful of pills, crushing them up and sprinkling them into the cup of coffee. He didn’t really count out how many he put in, but it would probably be fine.

“Here ya go,” Angel strolled back into the lobby, passing Alastor the cup.

He took it, mumbling a quick thanks before taking a sip.

Angel couldn’t help but smile.

“Okay, so Vaggie’s going to go first,” Charlie announced, dragging her girlfriend to sit in the chair she had placed in front of everyone,”So Vaggie will sit in the chair like this, and then I’ll sit in the chair behind her. I’m going to take a picture from the pile and describe it to her, but there’s a list of words that I can’t say. Vaggie then has to draw what I tell her! Does that make sense to everyone?”

Everyone made sounds of approval. Except for Alastor, who yawned, nodding. They both sat down, and started the game.

“Okay, Vaggie, so draw a large eyed furry creature with a tail that has floppy ears. It’s a common human pet.”

Vaggie scribbled something down,”Okay, I’m done.”

“So what did you draw?”

“Alastor?”

Charlie frowned,”What? It’s a dog, how did you-”

Vaggie shook her head, pointing towards the deer demon,”No, Charlie. Look at Alastor.”

Everyone turned. Alastor’s eyes were closed, his head falling against the back of the chair. His ears twitched slightly, breaths mixed with the faded sounds of radio.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so cute,” Charlie squealed.

“Surprised he actually fell asleep,” Husk muttered.

“You’re welcome; and no need ta’ whisper, he’s gonna be out for a looong time,” Angel chuckled.

“Umm, what?” Vaggie asked.

“Angel, what did you do?”

“Relax, toots, I just slipped ‘im some melatonin in his drink.”

“You drugged him?! Angel, how much did you use? And where did you even find the medicine?” Charlie exclaimed.

“Eh, just seven or so. I wasn’t sure how much ta use, but he’ll be fine. He ain’t gonna die from some sleeping pills. Besides, he was gonna need ta sleep one way or another.”

#hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #sickfic #writing #fanfic #whump #art #alastor #hazbin alastor #sick #medwhump may #medicine #melatonin thoughts

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sickficideas · 10 months

Note

dazai who regularly gets vertigo that sometimes eventually leads to migraines. he always tries to work through them, but sometimes it just gets too bad & he collapses. cue chuuya caretaking <3 (thinking mostly pm skk)

thank u for the delicious ask anon...dazai is not the only one suffering in this fic, there's so much suffering to go around teehee..

ao3! 4.5k words, sickfic - please refer to the link for additional tags!

you're a headache || skk sickfic

Dazai is hoping it's just the antiseptic smell. He doesn't want to think about the other possibilities.

He sits down on one of the cots as soon as the dizzy spell hits him. He's learned over the years that sitting down right away seems to mitigate some of the effects of his vertigo, but it's gotten worse over time, and it's getting more and more difficult to hide.

"You good?"

Chuuya's voice. Dazai almost forgot he was there with him. He was the one that carried Akutagawa all the way here. Dazai's secretly thankful for it, because he certainly wouldn't have been able to do it himself.

"I'm fine," Dazai groans. Chuuya stuffs his phone into a pocket as he slips back past the curtain, eyeing Akutagawa's unconscious form with far more concern than necessary, Dazai thinks. "Did you get ahold of them?"

"Yeah. They're sending someone over to come get him with our ambulance," Chuuya huffs, leaning against the wall opposite to Dazai. This isn't a good situation. Akutagawa's injuries are too severe for him to be treated long-term by the infirmary staff at headquarters, and he needs to be taken to their own emergency facility. Dazai can't quite tell where he's bleeding from at this point. His head and thigh injuries bled the most, but he has several broken ribs and a fractured collarbone that's jutting out of his skin. He's almost certain one of his arms are dislocated, and Dazai would have put it back in place himself if the kid's collarbone wasn't staring right back at him.

Unfortunately, even if his injuries weren’t this severe, he’s extremely uncooperative and requires sedation to be treated. The infirmary staff have refused to treat him even for minor things in the past.

Dazai sighs, dropping his head in his hands, not caring much about the dried blood that they're covered in. “Such a pain.”

"At least he stopped bleeding," Chuuya sighs.

Dazai nods.

He probably needs to tell Gin. Akutagawa was supposed to go home tonight, but he has a feeling that won't be for a while, now.

Dazai almost never sees Akutagawa’s injuries the moment they happen. He’s learned to use Rashomon to keep injuries quite literally under wraps, and he can stop his own bleeding pretty well if he has the focus for it, but not this time. He fainted as a result of the blood he lost before Dazai even realized he was injured. He has no idea how he managed to hide that collarbone injury.

He has a much higher pain tolerance than Dazai could ever dream of. Here he is, half a collarbone snapped off and poking out, and Dazai thinks he might start crying if this headache turns into a migraine like he's suspecting.

Dazai pulls out his phone to find Gin's contact. He considers texting her, but this is sort of urgent, so he hits the call button and presses the phone up to his ear. Chuuya tilts his head, and Dazai has to hold himself back on making a comment about him looking like a confused dog.

"Gin. Hey. Akutagawa got hurt pretty bad today. They're taking him up to the hospital at the Port for further treatment. I can text you the information when I get it," he says. Gin doesn't speak when she's working, so he doesn't expect a response. There's just silence for a moment before she hangs up, a simple acknowledgment that she heard him.

"Gin? That Black Lizard kid?" Chuuya asks.

"Mhm," Dazai asks, tossing his phone over to the end of the cot. Chuuya looks confused, but Dazai doesn't feel like explaining anything to him.

For a moment, Akutagawa's body tenses up and he clenches his teeth through a pained groan, but he stays unconscious. Chuuya's expression tenses up just the same.

"Go back to work," Dazai grumbles. He only asked Chuuya for help because he was nearby when Akutagawa passed out. He doesn't need him anymore.

Chuuya scoffs. "You go back to work."

"I can't. I have to make sure my dog doesn't kill anyone when he wakes up," Dazai drawls as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Stop calling him that, Dazai," he hisses.

"I'll call him whatever I want, Chuuya," Dazai groans. He doesn't have the energy to argue about meaningless things like this, but he will if it's Chuuya.

Chuuya, for some reason, doesn't seem to be so willing to leave. He leans against the wall and closes his eyes for a minute or so. Dazai isn't sure how long he's been working for, at this point. The bags under his eyes are telling enough. Regardless, he was there quickly enough when Dazai called to help him stop Akutagawa's bleeding.

"Why is he like that, anyway?"

"Like what?" Dazai groans, shooting a glare up at the latter. His voice sounds like metal grating on metal on Dazai's aching brain. He knows he's quickly developing a migraine - or, it's only hit him now that he has time to actually think.

"I saw him last time. Take that nurse's head off," Chuuya says. The memory sends a shiver up Dazai's spine. He's seen a lot of horrific things in his time in the mafia, but he's never seen a clean, instantaneous decapitation like that. Akutagawa is often heavily disoriented when he wakes up, especially when he's injured or ill, and that happened as a result.

Akutagawa didn't speak for two weeks after that happened, and Dazai could never seem right figure out why.

"He's from the slums," Dazai mumbles. His vision starts to list sideways as he straightens himself up, and he tries his best to hide any sign of his vertigo from Chuuya.

"Yeah?" Chuuya asks. He's starting to look irritated. "The fuck's that mean, Dazai? I'm from the slums too, asshole. What's that got to do with decapitating people for no reason?"

"I'm like, ninety-seven percent sure he was trafficked, so, more that sort of thing," Dazai says casually, not at all thrown off Chuuya's random defensive bite.

Chuuya loses some of the color in his face.

"Shit," he curses, letting out a shaky breath.

"I mean, I don't know for sure. I know he wouldn't tell me. But I'd say there's a good chance," Dazai shrugs. "Sure you saw your fair share of that."

Chuuya doesn't say anything, but he knows the answer. He thinks the two of them probably have a lot more in common than either of them realize.

"Maybe you could ask him, since you like him so much. He'd probably tell you," Dazai teases.

"What the hell is your problem? He can't stand anyone but you. He wouldn't tell me," Chuuya scoffs. "I wouldn't ask about something like that anyway, you freak. It's not my business."

Dazai has tuned him out at this point. He doesn't care much to hear Chuuya's defenses, he was really only doing it to get a rise out of him, but now he regrets it. Chuuya's voice is normally a cacophony in Dazai's ears, but now with his ever-present migraine, it's making him much more aware of the dull throbbing in the back of his head.

"Shut up, will you? You'll wake up my dog," Dazai groans, dropping his head back into his hands. Chuuya won't care if Dazai tells him the real reason, he's sure, but he's much more likely to comply for Akutagawa's sake, for some reason.

"Call him your dog one more time," Chuuya grumbles to himself, but Dazai ignores him.

It's silent again for a while. Dazai doesn't have much concept of how much time has passed, he's simply trying to will away his migraine, somehow. Chuuya refuses to leave. It might be a good thing. He can probably carry Akutagawa out once they arrive to pick him up. Dazai couldn't carry him even if he wanted to.

Then, of course, the nausea hits him.

"I'll be right back," Dazai grumbles. He figures he's probably not walking as straight as he thinks, but he's more worried about getting to the bathroom in time than hiding his vertigo from Chuuya, at this point. He pulls the curtain back and stumbles toward the bathroom, one hand clamped over his mouth just in case his stomach contents decide to make a reappearance before he can do it of his own free will.

He drops to his knees with a groan as soon as he closes the door behind him, and he lays his head on the toilet seat. His head is spinning so much that he can't see straight. He has no idea how he managed to get here so quickly. Muscle memory, his strong desire to get away from Chuuya, it's anyone's guess.

"Fuck," he groans, spitting his saliva into the water. So far, there's no sign of Chuuya following him over, not that Dazai is too aware of his surroundings right now anyway. He tries to turn his head to see if he can see anything from the space beneath the door, but everything suddenly turns on its side, and he chokes up a mouthful of vomit. The only sign he has that it landed in the toilet is the splash he hears - he can't see anything.

His brain feels like it's thumping against his skull, which is a sensation so nauseating that it makes everything else feel so much worse. He whines, much rather wishing someone would put him out of his misery. This surely isn't worth surviving.

Whatever forces itself out of his stomach next is strong enough for Dazai to consider it near projectile. He feels it coming out of his nose, which is only adding to the list of awful sensations he's feeling.

He whines to himself, not caring much about how pathetic he must sound. He spits up another mouthful of vomit with a wet burp.

“Hngh…”

He tries not to move his head too much, but he can't stay here for long. He reaches forward to flush, hardly with enough energy to. He's sure he'll have to go with them once they take Akutagawa just as a precaution, and they should be here any minute. He takes a wad of toilet paper to wipe his mouth and nose. His throat already burns so bad.

He has to use the toilet seat for support to get up, and he finds himself leaning heavily against the wall as he's hit with another bout of vertigo. He's lucky he already threw up, or else he's sure this bout would have made him vomit all over the tile floor.

He keeps a hand along the wall as he finds the door, and once he opens it, he has to lean on the bathroom door frame for support. He can't get away with hiding it, not now. If he tries, he'll pass out for sure.

Chuuya is glaring at him, an eyebrow raised. Dazai doesn't have any clue how long he's been out here.

"Did you just throw up?" Chuuya asks.

Dazai groans, pressing his forehead up against the frame. He wishes Chuuya were more like Akutagawa. He's trained the latter to be silent if he notices anything wrong with him, but Chuuya always has to point it out. Annoying.

"The hell's wrong with you, Dazai? You've been weird this whole time," Chuuya huffs. He takes a step forward, almost looking like he wants to approach him for some reason, but Dazai just turns his head back to the side. He feels awful.

"Nothing. Go away, slug."

And then it hits him again, as soon as he takes a step forward and loses the support of the door frame. It feels almost like one foot landed where it was supposed to, and the other somehow took a step on the wall, and now his head is rushing toward the floor.

Of course, Chuuya catches him before he can turn his migraine into a head injury.

Dazai makes no effort to move. He'd do anything to wriggle out of Chuuya's hold right now, but he's practically incapacitated right now, his eyes screwed shut in some attempt to get some control over what he's seeing.

"Dazai -"

"It's just this shitty vertigo," Dazai mumbles quietly, trying to peer his eyes open. "I'll be fine, just -"

Chuuya doesn't give him any room to defend himself. He scoops him up without a second of deliberation.

Dazai finds himself lying in one of the cots in no time at all, one in a closed room. He doesn't trust himself to open his eyes just yet, but he can tell it's dark in here. That usually helps. He probably should lie down for a while.

"Stay here and don't fucking get up," Chuuya huffs before he pulls the curtain closed, and Dazai covers his ears a bit too late, the metal rings sliding along the pole proving to be a bit too much for him. He's not sure why Chuuya was in such a rush to leave, but he hears his phone ringing off in the distance. They must be here to get Akutagawa.

Dazai curls up on his side, taking the pillow and holding it over his head to dull his senses some. It still feels like he's cascading down a waterfall inside of a wooden barrel, but now that he thinks about it, he'd rather actually be doing that. At least he has death to look forward to at the end. This is just pointless suffering.

He hears something. He's not sure what. Something falling against the tile, some sort of a struggle.

"Hey. You're okay. You're in the infirmary, at headquarters," he hears Chuuya say sternly. "Dazai's right in there. He fell asleep."

Dazai can't even remotely muster the energy to get up. Akutagawa's awake, and he's not there to negate his ability.

Get away from him, he wants to say. Akutagawa's true intentions don't matter, the fact is he could easily kill Chuuya in those first blinded moments before he realizes where he is.

But he doesn't hear anything. He doesn't hear any kind of struggle at all, not past that first bit.

Dazai scoffs to himself. Of course he's fine with Chuuya. Of course Chuuya can handle himself.

And then he hears it again. Some kind of struggle.

He forces his head up off the bed, which proves to be a massive mistake. His head swims and rolls off his shoulders, it feels like, reminding him how horribly nauseous he is, and he leans over the side of the cot to try to vomit on the floor, but he's greatly misinterpreted how far off the cot he leaned because of the vertigo, and his whole body tumbles to the floor.

He doesn't have the energy to even lift his head to vomit. Whatever he manages to choke out just slides off of his tongue and spreads on the floor next to his face.

He'd rather be blackout drunk than this.

…

"Dazai," Chuuya mumbles. He hates how concerned he sounds. He doesn't often let himself be read like that.

"I'm fine," Dazai barely manages to croak out, but he's not really sure where he is. He thinks he might be back in that same bed, which means Chuuya moved him from where he was, laying in his own vomit.

It's still dark. Dazai is lying on his back, feeling significantly less dizzy, but now he's met with what feels like the worst migraine of his life, pounding through his skull like there's no tomorrow. He whines, grabbing a fistful of the sheets he's lying on for some kind of distraction.

He feels something damp press against his cheek, and he manages to open an eye to see it's still only Chuuya, rubbing a washcloth on the side of his face. Dazai groans and tries to turn his head away. He realizes there's a washcloth laid over his forehead, too. He doesn't think he has a fever, but it does feel nice.

"Cut it out. Trying to clean your face up," Chuuya grumbles, his free hand taking Dazai's chin to turn his head back in his direction. "What the hell even happened, Dazai? I come back and you're passed out on the floor and laying in your own puke?"

"'M fine," Dazai mumbles. He's exhausted. He can't have been passed out for long.

"No you're not. This isn't normal," Chuuya huffs. His brow furrows.

"'s just a migraine," he says quietly, but he can hardly speak. His voice rattling around in his brain is making his already insanely painful headache worse. He wants to tell Chuuya it's not a big deal. He gets these all the time, they're just bad for the first few hours and then he's okay, but he can't get the words out.

Chuuya, somehow, seems to realize this.

"You should've fuckin' said so," he whispers with a click of his tongue, somehow already understanding that other voices are making it worse.

Dazai's eyes fall shut. He's grateful for it being so quiet in the infirmary tonight. He didn't see a single member of the staff so far, or any patients. Now it's just him and Chuuya.

He hears something click, and realizes Chuuya has shut off the lights in the main hall of the infirmary, too. It's almost completely dark, aside from the emergency light just barely peeking past the curtain.

"I'll come back later. Gonna report to the boss," Chuuya whispers.

There's blood on Chuuya's face. Dazai can trace the faint outline of it, but he disappears before Dazai can figure out where it's coming from. This time, not a single ring of the curtain moves on the metal bar. It's a silent exit. Dazai's impressed.

He lets go of a shaky sigh.

…

"I'm not gonna move him."

Chuuya's voice wakes him. Dazai groans, beyond annoyed to have any voice wake him up - let alone Chuuya - until he manages to remember where he is.

"He's not injured. Just leave 'im. I've got it covered," Chuuya says.

Dazai hears the hushed voices of some nurses, and as he pries his eyes open, he realizes the lights in the main hall of the infirmary are on again, spilling into the dark room he's been resting in. He wonders how long it's been. He hasn't had time to properly rest in a few weeks, at the very least, so he's lost track of time.

The nurses' voices have stopped, and Dazai hears Chuuya's footsteps.

He's still very quiet. Dazai can only hear the fabric ruffle when Chuuya slips past the curtain, and Dazai lets himself fall still again, pretending to still be asleep. He doesn't hear a sound from Chuuya at first, but soon enough, he lets out a deep sigh, and it sounds like he slides down against the wall, opposite to the curtain.

Dazai turns his head just enough that he'll be able to see Chuuya's face.

He looks exhausted. If Dazai had really just woken up, he would have thought Chuuya was dead asleep, the way his head is hanging down. For just a second, Dazai feels something akin to guilt. The blood Dazai remembered from earlier has since dried and cracked against his skin, and his skin is pale, but Dazai isn’t sure why.

"Sleeping on the floor's not good for you, Chibi," Dazai teases, his voice hoarse, hardly above a whisper.

"Fucking hell, Dazai," Chuuya growls, obviously startled, his eyes wide and fixed on Dazai. If Dazai had been any louder, he might've hit his head on the wall from the surprise, "I thought you were asleep, dammit."

"I was, but your annoying voice woke me," Dazai complains with an overdramatic sigh, laying his forearm over his eyes.

"How's your head?" Chuuya asks, evidently not interested in Dazai's taunts. He uses support from the wall to help himself get up, or rather, struggle to, and Dazai hears a quiet groan from him. He’s holding a hand against his abdomen, just for a moment.

"Worse now that you're here," Dazai mumbles under his breath, turning over on the cot. He's still not a huge fan of the lights.

"Seriously, you ugly fuckin' mackerel. Do you feel better or not?" Chuuya groans.

"A little," he admits. It's not nearly as awful as it was before. He can handle the sound of his own voice, at least. The headache is still present, and he's not sure he wants to test his luck with the vertigo and try to sit up, but he's better for now.

Dazai moves his hand back down to his side, and finds a damp washcloth beside his pillow, likely replaced at some point during his sleep. He tosses it over to Chuuya, who doesn't react nearly as quickly as he shoulder.

"You demanding motherfu-"

"Wash your face," Dazai huffs, "unsightly. What kind of executive are you?"

He's teasing, of course, but Chuuya doesn't seem to understand what he's referring to. Normally, Chuuya wouldn't dream of using something to wash his face that's already touched Dazai, but he wipes his cheek and checks the cloth, surprised to find blood.

"Oh, that's…" Chuuya mumbles to himself. He sits down on the cot.

"Akutagawa?" Dazai asks.

"He was scared," Chuuya murmurs, of course, right away to Akutagawa's defense. His fingers graze across the dried cut on his forehead. "You…you need to be more gentle with him."

Chuuya's words are lost to him. He's more concerned with the way Chuuya's looking right now, like he'd pass out any second. He's seen his head bob forward a few times now.

"Lay down," Dazai mumbles. Chuuya meets his gaze for a few moments. Dazai expects him to argue, but he thinks he's so exhausted that he doesn't even give himself a second to think of any retort. He just lays on his side at the end of the bed and curls up, like a cat. Dazai's noticed he often sleeps like that. It almost seems defensive.

"You piss me off," Chuuya murmurs, his voice already heavy with sleep, whispered. Dazai watches all the tension leave his body, but he keeps his gaze on Dazai for as long as he can, before another force makes his eyelids fall shut.

"Yeah, yeah," Dazai whispers, watching Chuuya as he starts to fall asleep.

Only a few moments later, a nurse peaks her head in through the curtains, not as careful to avoid the metal scraping as Chuuya was. Dazai grits his teeth at the sound, but he turns his head, an eyebrow raised at the woman.

"Is he asleep?" she asks so quietly Dazai can hardly hear her. There's one or two more nurses behind her. Dazai just nods, thinking it was obvious enough. "We've been trying to get him to rest all morning."

"All morning?" Dazai asks.

"Yes, he's been in here with you the whole time…he refused to rest," she says. "Please let us know if you need something, sir."

"Turn the lights back off out there, will you?" Dazai sighs, and the nurse nods fervently, disappearing past the curtains. Dazai sighs, long and annoyed, and plans on shutting his eyes and going back to sleep before he feels something warm under the heel of his foot.

At first, he’s inclined to make a joke, but all of the little things he’s noticed have come together to make him realize that Chuuya’s blood is soaking the mattress, and he’s still unconscious. Dazai forces himself to sit up to get a better look at him, and his head swims, proving he’s still not completely recovered from his migraine.

“Chuuya,” Dazai breathes out. He grabs his shoulder, but he doesn’t budge.

Dazai shouts for a nurse.

…

Chuuya’s color is finally starting to come back. Dazai takes note of that. It’s a good sign, even though he’s still fast asleep.

The nurses aren’t too worried about him not waking up. The wound on his abdomen bled a lot, and they’re a bit worried about infection, but at the moment they say it’s nothing he needs a hospital visit for.

Evidently, it was an injury caused by Akutagawa, but Dazai is at a loss for why Chuuya refused to tell anyone, let alone get it treated. He’s sure Chuuya has his own noble bullshit reason for it, something Dazai could never even dream of understanding.

“Can’t you ever just let me suffer by myself?” Dazai grumbles, his head on a pillow beside Chuuya’s. He doesn’t expect Chuuya to answer, but he hopes he subconsciously absorbs the message.

“Fuck you,” Chuuya mutters, his eyes still shut. Dazai didn’t realize that he woke up. His voice is hoarse and heavy with sleep. “Can you shut up? My head hurts.”

“Boo hoo,” Dazai huffs. He manages to fish a free hand out from under the sheets to flick Chuuya in the forehead. Chuuya groans, snatching the sheet they’re both under and pulling it over his head.

“How’s yours,” Chuuya mumbles from under the sheet.

“My what?”

“Your head. Moron,” he huffs.

“I’m fine. Go back to sleep, slug,” Dazai tells him, taking the sheet back so he can see his face. Chuuya’s glaring at him. “Stop worrying about me so much. It’s weird.”

“You’re weird. Ugh,” Chuuya grumbles, tucking his head back into the pillow. “Tell me the next time something’s wrong with you, freak. I don’t wanna find you passed out in your own puke again.”

“And I don’t want you bleeding out in the be I’m laying in again, chibi. Take your own dumb advice,” Dazai groans.

“It was deeper than I thought,” Chuuya mumbles defensively. Dazai knows it was much more complicated than that, but he won’t press for more details. Chuuya’s thought process is a mystery to him, and he’d like to keep it that way. “Dazai?”

“What, slug?” Dazai groans.

“I was trafficked too,” Chuuya mumbles. It’s much quieter than everything else he’s said, and any anger or annoyance has long since left his expression.

“I figured,” Dazai says back quietly. His chest tightens up, and he’s not sure why. He knows how common that sort of thing is in the slums, it doesn’t surprise him at all that that’s something Chuuya went through, but he’s at a loss for why Chuuya’s deciding to tell him.

“Waking up and not knowing where you are’s fucking scary,” Chuuya grumbles. “I don’t…I don’t blame Akutagawa for freaking out.”

“Never said I did, Chuuya,” Dazai reminds him. He recalls simply answering Chuuya’s question as to why Akutagawa reacts the way that he does.

“So don’t punish him. It’s not his fault,” Chuuya mumbles.

Dazai sighs. That’s what he’s getting at, then. “I won’t.”

Chuuya relaxes, just a bit, and only then Dazai realizes how tense he was.

“Will you go to sleep now?” Dazai huffs, trying to force some sort of annoyed tone to get Chuuya to comply, but he’s already halfway there. The exhaustion takes over him one more time. Chuuya’s always been one to fall asleep quickly.

Dazai brushes some of Chuuya’s overgrown bangs from his eyes. He really doesn't want to know how all of this would have gone if Chuuya wasn’t there - between Akutagawa’s injuries and Dazai being nearly completely incapacitated from his migraine, Chuuya took care of it all, and completely neglected himself in the process.

He’s far too selfless. Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever understand it.

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t3acupz · 26 days

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🩻🤍💉 Brownham Medwhump May 💉🤍🩻

4. Sedated

The second night at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane was even worse than the first. While Will was feeling anxious of his unfamiliar surroundings the first night, they felt too familiar on the second. His mind had adjusted to his new home, and he was getting agitated by the very thought of it. This wasn’t his home, and he shouldn’t feel like it was going to be for the rest of his natural life.

It was well past lights out, and the other inmates were snoring loudly. Will was pacing his dark cell like a wild animal, ready to bite off his own leg at a chance to escape. The sink had no mirror over it so he couldn’t see how deranged he looked but he could feel it in every bone in his body. This prison wasn’t meant for me, he thought with gritted teeth, it was meant for him.

Will slammed his fists down on the porcelain sink. The bang echoed down the hall. “Fuck!” Will exclaimed under his breath. The sink was turning black. He thought he was hallucinating until the pain in his hand made him realize he was bleeding. He misjudged the distance in the darkness, and swiped his right hand over the metal faucet with too much force.

Suddenly, he heard the jangle of keys coming down the black corridor. “I’m going to get thrown into a padded cell in isolation for this, aren’t I?” Will groaned into the darkness, not expecting a reply.

“No, Mr. Graham.” Said a voice on the other side of the bars.

Will didn’t look at the dark figure. He wasn’t sure what was real anymore. If he saw the Stag Man standing there, with his blank expression and glowing eyes he would know for sure that he’s just as insane as they all claim him to be.

The metal clank of the door opening sent shivers down Will’s spine. He stood still by the sink, unsure of how to react. Without warning, he felt a warm hand pull down his boxers slightly, and an injection was administered on his ass cheek. Within seconds, he felt drowsy, and unable to stand. The strong arms of the orderly picked Will up bridal style, and carried him to the bed.

“What… What did you give me?” Will words were slurred and slow. Now that his vision was also affected, he wasn’t even sure who he was seeing in front of him.

“Midazolam.” Said the young man very matter of fact.

”My hand,” Will brought his bleeding hand to the orderly’s face. The small light above his bed reflected off the quizzical green eyes. “Please…”

“You can call me Matthew.” He replied, quickly switching from the role of an orderly to that of a nurse as he gently picked up Will’s hand, and reached into his pocket for some disinfectant spray and gauze.

“You didn’t have to sedate me,” Will finally said as Matthew finished cleaning off the wound.

“Didn’t I?” Matthew chuckled, and began wrapping the hand in fresh gauze. Taut but not too tight, Will could tell that the young man knew what he was doing.

Will sighed. Letting his anger control his actions wasn’t going to help him. If he was going to get out of here then he needed to be smarter about it. Hannibal was playing chess while he was playing checkers. He needed to join Hannibal at his own game if he was going to win.

“How come I don’t remember seeing you here when I came to profile Gideon for the murder of the night nurse?”

“I started working here this week,” Matthew replied, tilting his head to the side like one of Will’s dogs.

Will wondered why that question seemed to bemuse the young orderly. “Thank you for this.” Will lifted his bandaged hand up in sincere appreciation. He was sure that he would have been yelled at by whoever was coming to see what all the commotion was about.

“Mr. Graham…” Matthew looked to the floor as he continued, “Please promise me you won’t hurt yourself again or I will have to write this up in an incident report, and they’ll be forced to put you in solitary.”

Will was stunned by Matthew’s request. He just started his new job here but was willing to put it in jeopardy just so Will wouldn’t be thrown into solitary confinement. Will didn’t know what to say so he nodded his head, and that was enough for the young man.

“I’ll come back tomorrow morning to change the gauze, if anyone asks just say you had an accident while shaving.” Matthew picked up Will’s injured hand, and brought it to his lips. “It’ll be our little secret.” He planted a small kiss where some of the blood was seeping through.

By the time Will felt coherent enough to speak, Matthew was long gone into the dark corridor. He pulled the covers over his trembling body, and closed his eyes but no sleep came that night.

#sedated was one i was looking forward to writing #especially after matthew tranquilized hannibal the way he did in mukozuke #he knows his way around benzos #brownham #medwhump may #will graham #fic

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echo-goes-mmm · 7 months

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Second-Hand Goods #2

Masterpost

Warnings: death mentions, human trafficking, dehumanization, nudity

Ander flipped on the radio and hummed, tapping his fingers on the wheel. He already had a customer in mind for the product, but he had the strange urge to keep him. The product was cute, and he liked cute. Polite, too. Usually his products screamed, or fought, or were rude and uncooperative.

Ander had long wondered what his clients and customers got from murder and torture. It didn’t seem very fun, making gorey messes like that. But if the result was a meek, agreeable thing to toy with, he could see the appeal of suffering.

This item wasn’t going to go for very much; maybe five thousand. What was the harm in keeping him? Many of his customers kept products alive for months before disposal, and those were typically feisty things. Once they were broken, they lost their spark and died.

The typical item annoyed Ander. He just wanted them cleaned up and sold. If this one irritated him, off he’d go. But he had a feeling this one would be pleasant. Maybe he’d make him into an assistant. It was hard work, juggling keeping the products alive and appealing enough for customers and getting in touch with clients at the same time.

He pulled in to the back of his house. Ordinarily he would have pulled over and sedated them discreetly when he got closer to home, but this one didn’t need it.

He popped the trunk and made his way around.

“Did you have a nice trip?” he asked, pulling the product out by the arm. He nodded, and it was adorable. “Great.”

He pulled him inside, and tugged off the blindfold. The product blinked up at him, and his honey-brown eyes made him look so cute. Hmm.

“If I take this off,” he said, tapping at the gag, “will you still be good for me?”

The product nodded, still shy but Ander could see enthusiasm in his eyes. He unclipped the top strap first and placed it on the kitchen table. He unfastened the second strap, and the product was true to his word.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“What’s your name?”

The product looked bewildered for a moment. “Emmett,” he said, still quiet as a mouse.

“Come on then, Emmett.” He pulled him towards the basement, where he stored all of his stock.

Emmett hesitated on the stairs, which was fair. It did smell rather off-putting, but that’s what happened when many people were living in small quarters.

He had three in stock right now, not including Emmett. He wasn’t up for sale anymore. But he needed to know who was boss, and the fear of being sold as easy pickings for his customers was sure to make him compliant.

Emmett’s eyes went wide at the setup. It was pretty impressive, in Ander’s opinion.

Evenly spaced steel floor-to-ceiling poles with various hooks and embedded steel rings lined one wall. That was where most of the products were secured. The opposite wall was lined with extra large, heavy duty dog kennels. Usually they were empty, but one of the products was acting rather nasty, and the kennels were to punish them for being uncooperative.

The misbehaving stock yelled at him, but it was muffled through the muzzle Ander had forced on his head. He tutted, shaking his head at him.

A steel wire wall separated the stock from the stairs. He unlocked the door and pushed Emmett through, closing it behind them with a rattling clang.

It had taken him ages to install everything. The shower and medical section plumbing was especially irritating, the water drainage tricky to get right so it wouldn’t ruin his foundation. But it was worth it; otherwise he’d have to bring the product up and down the stairs to his own bathroom. More chances of escape or injury that way.

“Wha- what are you-”

“Hush,” he said, “If you behave, you won’t have to worry. Isn’t that right?” he asked the room, and his products nodded their heads, staring at either Emmett or the floor. He pulled Emmett along to the shower and cuffed him by a wrist to the pole that ran along the wall.

He cut away the rope with a pocket knife. “Wait here,” he said. He needed to change into clothes more suited for hosing Emmett down.

___________________

Emmett watched his captor- his owner?- exit the basement. He tested the cuff, but it held firm and so did the pole.

He looked around the room. People were scattered around, tied down or cuffed to things. Even one person in a cage. Only some were gagged.

But none of them were bloody or had fresh bruises.

If his captor was going to kill him, at least he wouldn’t be tortured like before. It was something, and he’d take it.

He scanned the room, but no one seemed interested in talking to him

His captor came back down the stairs. He was dressed in different clothes, an old shirt, pants, and tall rain boots.

“I’m going to undress you,” he said. “Will you behave, or are we going to do this the hard way?”

“I’ll behave, sir.” Emmett kept still while the man unbuttoned his jeans and pulled down his boxers. He flushed, and hoped the others in the room weren’t looking.

“Good boy,” muttered the man as he dumped the clothes in a bin.

He reached for the shower hose, and turned the red knob. He pointed the shower head at the drain, and slightly turned the blue knob. He kept testing the water and turning the knobs until he was satisfied.

“Hold still,” he said.

The hot water stung his cuts, but otherwise it felt good. He hadn’t had a shower in so long. He groaned under the spray, and the man chuckled at him.

“Turn around.”

Emmett obeyed. God, the water pressure was amazing. His captor sprayed down his back, and eventually his hair. He turned the water off, and Emmett shivered.

“Sit,” He told him. He dumped a bottle of soap on his head and began to roughly scrub his head.

He sighed into it. What was the point of a few hours of pain-free existence if he couldn’t enjoy it?

The man sprayed the shampoo off his hair, and dumped even more on. He must be really filthy. The soap ran down his chest and back, lightly stinging his open wounds.

He made him stand up again when his hair was clean, and began to scrub him down with a brush. He felt like a dog at the groomers.

Emmett watched the blood and suds swirl around the drain. God he felt so much better.

The man dried him off with a combination of a towel and a hairdryer. He uncuffed him and then secured him to one of the metal columns. Emmett had enough room to sit as he liked, but not enough to stand.

“Um,” he tried, “can I have my clothes back?” All the others had clothing; it couldn’t hurt to ask.

The man paused. “Ask me nicely,” he said.

Emmett took a deep breath, forcing a smile, “May I please have my clothes back, sir?” His neighboring prisoner shot him a glare, but the man grinned at him.

“You’ll have them back as soon as they’re clean.”

Emmett relaxed against the cool metal. Small victories.

___________________

Ander hummed to himself as he portioned out the sedatives for the evening. Emmett wouldn’t get one; he needed some one on one time with him. Dinner would be the perfect opportunity.

He headed downstairs with the syringes. The products knew the drill by now. He had a little trouble with the one in the kennel, but eventually he was able to jab the dose into him.

Emmett watched, and when Ander approached empty handed, he could see the gears in his little head turning.

“Not for you,” he explained. “We’re going to have a little chat before your bedtime.”

“Yes, sir,” said Emmett, looking wary. Ander crouched in front of him.

“First order of business: you’re going to call me Master. Understand?” Emmett nodded.

“Say it, Emmett.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. Emmett, do you know what I do for a living?”

“N- no, Master.”

Ander ruffled his hair. “I take poor souls like you from the jaws of your tormentors, and pair you all up with a more… interested party who will put you out of your misery. Like matchmaking for serial killers.”

Emmett shuddered, and Ander knew he understood.

“But I like you, Emmett,” he said, softer and sweeter. “I’d rather not sell you off. In fact,” he tilted his face up, “I think you’ll be quite happy here. As long as you’re good for me, I’ll be very nice to you. I’ll even give you treats when you do a good job.”

“I- I don’t-”

“Listen to me.” Emmett’s jaw snapped shut. “There’s nothing for you out there. Let me guess, you worked a shitty job with terrible pay, and you’re lonely and barely scraping by?”

“How- how did you-”

“You’ve been missing for a month, Emmett. But the missing person report was only filed two weeks ago. No one noticed you were gone for two weeks.” Emmett slumped against the pole.

“There’s nothing for you outside. Say it,” he coaxed.

“There’s nothing for me outside,” he whispered.

“Good boy. Now let's keep my business model just between us, okay?” Emmett glanced around the room, but Ander cupped his face and turned his gaze to keep him on task.

“Y-yeah, okay.”

“Try again, Emmett.”

“Yes, Master.”

“Excellent. See? Not so bad.” Emmett nodded. “Now, I’m going to get you some dinner. I bet you’re starving.”

taglist: @paintedpigeon1

#Second-hand Goods #my writing #whump #captivity whump #captive whumpee #creepy whumper

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supersources · 2 years

Text

interview with the vampire (2022): episode 4, the ruthless pursuit of blood with all a child's demanding.

tw: murder, death, blood, strong language, all vampire / horror things.

* i can't tell you that... i can't tell you that either.

* your doctor has been consulted and has given consent.

* would you follow me to the reading room?

* quite the house plant.

* the interior designer hired was a sentimentalist.

* please, wear gloves when handling the material.

* we suggest you begin on the left.

* their blood is bitter, it almost makes you feel sick to drink it.

* i tried to be good.

* i closed my eyes and waited for the fire to take me too.

* he was beautiful, strong, and fast and he carried me like i was made of feathers.

* i guessed i was in heaven, so i waited for the pain to go away and for my mama to join me.

* she's going cold, what do we do?

* i don't know where to bite, her body is all charred.

* she's just a kid.

* and she'll be what? a lap dog?

* you were ready to abandon our home, now you want a third.

* i just need her not to die.

* and then i tasted it, and right away i felt as strong as a street car.

* i realized what what i thought was heaven was just a nice room.

* you got some of your own i can have?

* so, this is my new house?

* i heard your cry for help. we can hear people's thought.

* prove it. what am i thinking now?

* so you can hear my thoughts, but he can't? does that make him the dumb one?

* if he makes you, he can't hear your thoughts anymore.

* he relies on my words to understand me, just like a human.

* i'm not a human no more, am i?

* well, i can see where this is going.

* you'll do it too, in time, my little milkweed. i'll teach you. but not if we're going to have family secrets?

* are we a family?

* but with no secrets.

* they had nice clothes, a nice auto-carriage, and a funny way of being nice to each other.

* so, i'm supposed to kill him?

* i'm not sure how i feel about that pleated skirt.

* looks like she takes after me...

* you're not a girl, you're a devil!

* you have to stop while they're alive.

* who is it she takes after?

* confusion, regret, euphoria... you'll wake up feeling a lot of things. guilt... a bad taste in your mouth from the cop which again you should never choose.

* what did i just say?

* don't eat cops.

* you gotta listen to your elders when they're talking.

* hungry? you just ate a man twice your size.

* i'm so hungry... i think i'm gonna die. is that how vampires die? of starvation?

* some sleep is what she needs.

* sedation is what she needs.

* you suck them like frog legs and burn them like trash.

* i gotta go to bed when the rest of the world wakes up.

* have you seen my slippers?

* must every night end like this?

* y'all get tired before i do.

* why does she talk to the book?

* the sun goes up, we go down. that's never gonna change.

* keeping you safe, little waif.

* the book is my friend.

* the book is her friend.

* the book is a book.

* put the pen down.

* when i'm tired, i'm not so kind.

* and where are all the vampires at?

* she's gonna pass real soon. we're trying to accustom her to the thought of... going home to god.

* it's so soft!

* it's just me, my pen, my brain, my heart, and the blood of the street car conductor i drained after he got off work. thank you, street car driver. i hope they got more of you at your company to fill in for you.

* don't shush me.

* i missed you.

* you missed me?

* he doesn't give good answers to questions, sits on the truth like it's his chair or something. i thought we weren't supposed to keep secrets.

* sometimes, old people don't like talking much about the past. sometimes, you gotta be careful where you dig, you understand?

* how does it work, love between two men?

* you ever liked girls?

* i don't know how you do that... you can't like the taste.

* it's not just what you eat. you can kill quick and painless, or you can get extravagant.

* there've been times when i've gone too far myself.

* some killing has consequences.

* i used to get a little caught up in human affairs.

* how does muhammad feel about vampires?

* how is your reading coming along?

* i interrupted, you were praying.

* i have my own room now.

* still, you wouldn't believe how time flies when you got people to eat and money to spend.

* we do like mortals do. we fight, we eat, we laugh, we sleep, we love!

* never seen a dead one look so peaceful... do you know what her last words were?

* who are you here with, honey?

* you have a kid?

* we need to talk about the house.

* over the cold body of our mama. i was wondering why i got the invite this time.

* well, good we got each other's backs... make you proud, you hear?

* the smell is awful.

* wakes were invented in places where it snowed.

* i'll have the papers drawn up.

* now, here's a treat. i think you're ready for. this is what the meat calls a 'lovers lane', and by my estimation no blood is sweeter. young people, swollen with passion, denied spirits by this senseless prohibition, park along this lonely stretch to contemplate that most mysterious of mathematical equations: how one plus one... becomes one.

* you've been too sheltered, my belladonnic beauty.

* did you just crawl out of the swamp or something?

* there's something back there, something evil!

* she's a prodigious killer, why you wanna limit her is beyond comprehension.

* i jumped a girl in between speakeasies, i wear it better though.

* don't do something he would do.

* happy hunting!

* i'm sorry, i got so scared i almost fainted. i thought the flowers might bring me back a bit.

* i'm glad you're back.

* i just wanted to say thank you for driving me home.

* i had to make sure you wouldn't faint again.

* i wanna know what his laugh sounds like when it's all the way.

* i'm surprised your fancy parents even let you out at night.

* they know i can take care of myself.

* you almost got trampled by a horse.

* no running in the house!

* i finally got a few secrets of my own.

* are you blocking me?

* do you not like it?

* i guess you're probably used to having ice cream any time you want.

* so, is this what you always do for a first date? take a girl out for some ice cream?

* no way you're older than me.

* everyone in my family looks young for their age.

* i'm tired of waiting!

* you don't even look like a girl... you're an angel.

* it's easy to get carried away when you're young and in love.

* stop squirming and watch. remember this, his face as it melts. this is why we never get close to mortals. because sooner or later, they end up dead.

* i had a daughter.

* the oh-so-delicate balance of our oh-so-delicate household was shattered.

* and what should i have done? tucked his body into the coffin with her?

* it's funnier when you fight in french.

#rp meme #rp starters #rp prompts #sentence starters #inbox meme #inbox starters #rp ask meme #starter prompt #roleplay starters #roleplay prompts #sentence meme #askbox meme #askbox prompt #ask meme #sentence prompts #mine: prompts.

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alicepao13 · 2 months

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Hudson and Rex S06E11

Retrospectively, this episode had a good promo, as it made it look more high-stakes than it actually was. That’s not to mean it was a bad episode but the actual episode made Rex's situation look decidedly less dire.

We get right into it, and I think I’d have preferred a first scene with Sarah picking up the phone and being told that Charlie is in the hospital, or a scene where they find Charlie. And their first interaction seems bland, sorry.

That lady is creepy. She could be an unsub on Criminal Minds.

Charlie’s threshold above which he can leave the hospital is: “Can I walk?” *limps, staggers* “Eh, good enough. Let’s go find Rex.”

I get why creepy lady had to treat Rex, script-wise, but after that point it was like his injury practically disappeared. Another miraculous recovery.

"I never should have let him chase that trailer". What are you talking about, Rex chasing people is literally how you guys catch 80% of the criminals.

"I was being a cowboy". How this comes up after so many cases of both Charlie and Rex exhibiting this kind of behavior and is now considered cowboy behavior while in the past it has been considered police work, I don't know.

"Your bark is bigger than your bite"? The disrespect! Allow him to demonstrate.

"Rocky it is". Oh, hell no, lady.

You have to admire the astonishingly amateurish work of the thieves. They go to "steal" the horse, they get seen. They go back to get the clippers, they get seen again.

Hey, they're using Jesse as a detective again. Good for you, Jesse Mills.

They actually started searching the barns one by one? Oh, my.

Joe and Sarah keeping an eye on Charlie. But just. Keeping an eye.

Why is he talking with the guy like they had a mere brawl? Like, shove him against the wall, Rex is missing! I demand some violence for this.

I appreciate Sarah's tactile approach of making sure Charlie is okay every five minutes lol

Of course Rex, even injured and captured, would still be looking to get the murder weapon. A consummate professional.

"Cardinal rule of marriage, ask for forgiveness, not permission". What an idiot. You're at the divorce lawyer's door and you don't even know it, dumbass.

This might be the dumbest reason for a person to get caught in other people's bullshit and end up getting murdered. Being witness to a fake theft orchestrated by the person who actually owns the horse, and trying to stop it. In another show, the guy would become a vengeful ghost, rightfully so.

Oh yeah, that lady is scary. And apparently, abusive too.

Rex's ears perking up as he hears the sound of Sarah's car is like, "oh fucking finally, they've come to get me out of here". And then he gets sedated. Poor dog is having a hell of a day.

Charlie heard Rex's whine with... supersonic hearing? First the growling, now this. I think he's becoming part dog.

Oh yeah, this is what people with concussions and limps should do.

"Another blow to the head could be serious". Oh, you mean, another, other blow? Also, another concussion even weeks later can actually cause second-impact syndrome, and kill him. I think he's due for a vacation.

"I'll keep my head down". That response alone warrants some violence.

"Not hurt are you?" Well, it's been like a full day since Rex was shot. He's totally fine.

I think the promo overhyped the episode, but it was still good. I needed a bit more emotion from everyone, to be honest. The hospital scene could be longer but at least they remembered to show the side effects of getting a concussion, somewhat. I still maintain that someone should have died for shooting Rex, but that would be to satisfy me personally. The excess of violence should be acceptable if someone shoots a dog. See John Wick. Also, at which point will they come up with the idea to put a GPS tracker on Rex? A GPS tracker on Charlie would be a good idea too, for a grown man he's surprisingly easy to lose :P

At some point, all of this should blow over to a scene where Sarah accuses Charlie of being reckless, but I'm not holding my breath.

Promo: The SJPD precinct continues to be a dangerous place to work. I'd say there are smarter ways of getting the police's attention than trying to hold one of their people at knife-point. But hey, I appreciate it regardless. I'm glad the tone of the season has changed from "we don't know what the fuck we're doing" to "Hudson and Rex, in which everyone is having a terribly dangerous time".

#hudson and rex #I mean if you're a fan of whump this season is turning out to be chef's kiss

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buntsuki · 8 months

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Hello! My name is Autumn, I go by Bun, and this is Groot! He’s my emotional support dog, he’s been by my side since he was old enough to come home! He is truly my other half, and dog soulmate. He is incredibly intelligent, with a deep and understanding soul. He’s the most unique and special creature I have ever had to pleasure of being around.

I’m a 24 year old, disabled/chronically ill woman. When Groot was younger he would lay along me in bed every night, and most of the day. Especially during my extreme endometriosis symptoms, and the hip injection hormone treatment I was finally able to have after years.

Groot started out as our family dog, he is a member of the family. A family friend rescued a dog on the side of the road while on a cross country road trip! When she found out the shelters would just put her down, she kept the dog…and surprise the dog, Missy, was pregnant! My aunt helped with the birthing of the puppies…and that’s how he came into our lives!

My parents went to visit the puppies since they wanted one. Groot first went up to my dad, and after my dad picked him up Groot started licking his face and trying to eat his beard! After my dad put him down on the floor and told my mom he liked this one…Groot went over to my mom. She was sitting on the floor, and Groot climbed up on her lap, laid on her leg and went to sleep. He chose us! We named him Groot because he was just always in the background doing his own thing, dragging water bowls around as a puppy while the other ones went wild playing!

Once Groot came home, he bonded with me the most, hiding behind me from my siblings, and laying with me for comfort. Our first night with him, we weren’t sure if he even knew what stairs were since he didn’t have them where he was born. Well low and behold that night he goes BOLTING up the stairs! He couldn’t get back down, but he’s always been a powerhouse!

Over the years Groot and I got closer, and he has become my baby. He also completely adores my fiancée, he is also her baby! He is the sweetest, deepest soul I have ever met.

At the end of August he started getting sick..well kinda. His only symptom was swollen Lymph Nodes on his neck. We called the vet, they told us to monitor it and wait a few days, it could just be a virus. So we did, the nodes changed shape and size, but didn’t go away. So we called again, got an appointment, went in, and they suspected an infection, possibly an abscess. He was given antibiotics and told to monitor. The lymph nodes went down, but again not away.

We called back, and they referred us to the specialized hospital. It was a long day, Groot got sedated, biopsies, scans, bloodwork etc. he was out on Prednisone for the time being as well as a precaution. A few days later we got the call. They found cancer cells in all the sampled lymph nodes.

We were of course devastated, but Groot is in group A for best remission odds! He didn’t have sick symptoms when diagnosed, as well as it being Type B cells instead of Type T cells. We consulted the oncologist, went over options etc. and decided on the strongest treatment. Groot is young, otherwise healthy, and has great odds for a long remission!

After his first Chemotherapy dose he went into full remission! He still needs his full treatment course, but this is such a positive start! He is still in remission, and still responding so positively to the chemo! It’s a little adventure for him, he doesn’t even know anything is wrong, as it should be!

When we were informed of his diagnosis, the woman who called told us about her dog. He was diagnosed at age five, with large cell lymphoma, b-cells. He did the strongest treatment and now he is 2 years out from his chemotherapy, and completely cancer free! Since she works there she has easier access and pricing for scans, so she does them every 3 months, full body. Not a single cancer cell! She said he did lose his hair though! With the updated chemotherapy for animals the odds are so much better, they’ve come a long way! The statistics are just so bad because…it’s expensive.

They do not make it easy, it is heart wrenching. I’ve been in a position before where we’ve had to give up an animal since we couldn’t afford the hospital bill and care. I feel for everyone who has gone through this and not been able to afford chemo. I completely understand and it is entirely different not being able to afford it, vs just not wanting to spend the money!

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Aside from the stress, and emotional ups and downs experiencing this with Groot, I am financially devastated. You cannot insure a pet with a pre-condition, much like how insurance companies don’t like covering humans with pre-existing conditions. No insurance will accept an already diagnosed pet unless the pet is CURED without treatments for 180 days. Then that also falls into what their definition of cured means.

I have been emptying my life savings (saved everything from first my job, then unemployment, and the stimulus checks), I am unable to work due to Covid with my ITP (blood disorder), as well as Endometriosis, fibromyalgia, and suspected degenerative arthritis (my mom has it, it runs in our family, and I have the symptoms of it). I have also been selling my personal belongings, and doing discounted art commissions. I don’t even get to go out often, and whenever I do it’s in a N95 mask with limited crowds!

We have been applying to all the foundations that help with vet bills, but they are OVERWHELMED, have strict requirements, limited donation amounts, and extremely long waitlists. We’ve still been applying, but I’m not relying on them getting back to us…

My mom, who is also disabled, got a $1700 loan to help! It went straight to the vet, my fiancée took from her savings as well. We are both applying for and looking into loans and vet bill credit cards. This is just so hard, he had a nearly $5000 overnight hospital stay (it ended up being due to chemotherapy and steroid reactions, he’s finished the steroids now, and they’re dialing back the chemo type that caused it).

After that hospital bill I am wiped out and terrified. All the money I had earned, fundraised, was given by friends and family, it all ended up going to that hospital bill. Now I still need to pay the rest of his chemo! I need at least another $5,000 which I know is a lot! But this is a life, and this is a once in a lifetime chance where I can BUY MORE TIME with him! He isn’t suffering, no pains, and aside from the hospital stay due to raised liver enzymes he hasn’t had any chemo symptoms either!

I am so incredibly proud of him, and how brave and strong he is!

Any thoughts, well wishes, prayers, shared, donations, purchases, commissions and everything else are so incredibly appreciated! I truly don’t want to ask for money, for help, I wish I could just do this all on my own. We know in hindsight now about insurance, this is a learning experience for sure, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to give up on Groot! He is here now and thriving and I want to give him the best life that he deserves! Thank you for reading❤️

Commissions are open, all types, can find me on other socials under BunTsuki as well! Any help means the world to me, and I swear when I’m better off I will pay it forward!

#animeartist #artist #gofundme #fundraiser #fundraising #veterinary #vet bills #support #pets #doggo #dog #chemotherapy #grootthedog #we rate dogs #any help is appreciated #thank you #i love him

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fbwzoo · 9 months

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Dog & cat updates!

Emma: is now actively asking for and enjoying pets almost daily from me and Jack! She occasionally enjoys pets from Joel & Arte as well. I've been starting to touch her legs and paws a bit more too, but without pushing too hard. We're going to see about having her sedated for her upcoming exam so it'll be less stressful & we can get all the things done - she needs a vaccine, plus nail trim and teeth check.

Oh, and she's basically finished potty training herself! She goes out both dog doors on her own now, though she still waits on us to let them out when we're home. But basically no accidents when we're gone now!

Addy: We've had her in weekly swim lessons at a local indoor dog pool for about 2 months now. She's doing so good with it!! She still doesn't entirely like it, but she cooperates, and we're pretty certain it's really been helping her legs. She really stretches them out well in the water, and even with a couple wipe-outs in that time frame, she hasn't been as sore or hurt herself in them. Joel & I have set up a schedule to get back to dog walks now that it's cooled off again, so I'll be able to observe her more then too.

Spring: Nothing new with the boy. He's still a good boy, good brother, and he's happy to just chill with everyone and go with the flow. He's such a good dog!

Phoebe: FAT. 😫 I slacked off a lot on monitoring cat food for the summer and ooof, it shows. They've both put on weight, but especially Phoebe. I'm getting back on track with that now & anxious about getting scolded by their vet. We were supposed to go the opposite direction with this after their last vet visit... sigh. Plus side, she's really not had any asthma attacks recently. Also she randomly decided Joel got Bebe Time??? That's the first time she's done it with someone besides me in 3 years!

Shilo: DECIDED TO SCARE THE CRAP OUT OF US & HIMSELF LAST WEEK. We had a plumber over to fix the washer. He was thought to be hiding, but not directly located, so when he got scared by the plumber going to the basement, he panicked, couldn't get into the main house, and ran out the garage door. He was out for around 15 hours, we're pretty sure he found a hiding spot and hunkered down. But stressed the hell out of the whole house for that whole afternoon/night. I slept on the couch and we left the run doors open, and I blocked Phoebe in my room so the dog doors could be left open too. I got up a couple times to go out and call for him. Around 3:30, I woke up, thinking I heard him. Called his name, he answered, and turned out to be on the back of the couch next to me. RELIEF.

He has a couple scratches on his head, which isn't a big surprise given the number of outside cats on our street, but he's otherwise fine. He hid in my closet for the first two days except for when I was home & in my room. Very mama's boy. But he's been recovering from the stress & settling back in now over the weekend. We're still watching him very closely for this next week or two, as he's had a stress cystitis episode once before & we're expecting he very well may do so from this too.

#fbw rambles #my pets #Addy pup #springy pup #Emma pup #phoebe kitty #Shilo kitty

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theheartwhumpswhatitwhumps · 1 year

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I saw you were taking whump requests!! Could you maybe do something where Whumpee is injured but is still trying to go on missions so Caretaker has to sedate them for their own good???

Sorry this took so long. I've been working on a book and all my time goes into 1) my job and 2) the book, which for the time being is an unpaid second job. But here it is at last!

Let's sedate some whumpees!!

cw // sedation w/ fade to black, sedation for whumpee's sake, dizziness, referenced past physical trauma (broken bones, beating), medical language, bad(??) caretaker

(as always, please let me know kindly if there are tags I miss and I will add them)

"Any questions?"

Leader crosses his arms and watches the team digest the mission plan. Silence doesn't settle over the room so much as turn in restless circles like an anxious dog.

Everyone wonders if they should be the one to speak up. Of course there are questions. Or, at least one. Only one that matters.

Is Whumpee really coming along?

No one looks at Whumpee, sitting straight-backed in their seat, arm free of its sling a week too early. The bruises on their cheeks and neck are long faded, but under a careful eye, a yellow tinge still lingers beneath the surface. Stitches weren't enough to make up for the small chunk missing from their bottom left, leaving it misshapen. Thanks to Healer's handiwork, Whumpee is in much better shape than they could be (or should be), but no where near completely healed.

Leader looks at each team member one by one. One by one, they feel his gaze, and Leader watches every pair of eyes drift toward Whumpee's chair. This plan hinges on everyone playing their part to the letter. No room for screw ups. No room for weak links.

Healer bounces a knee beneath the table. In the cool light, her eyes flash almost threateningly.

Finally, Leader looks to Whumpee, who returns his gaze with unwavering determination.

"No questions," they say, as resolute as a charging chariot.

The team is dismissed to prepare for the mission at hand. In the hallway, Healer catches Leader by the crook of his arm, her fury barely reined.

"You cannot be serious."

Leader looks down at Healer's hand, raising an eyebrow. "About?"

"Don't you dare." Healer's voice is more than angry. It's vengeful. "Whumpee should never have been in the field in the first place. They weren't ready and you knew it. But you sent them anyway."

Leader wrenches his arm free. Rather, Healer lets him loose. She can't stand to touch him anymore.

"Whumpee has skills I needed to utilize. What happened was a terrible accident--"

"They were almost killed."

Leader huffs something almost like laughter. "I'm not the bad guy here. We all know the risks. This is a job like any other, and if they can't stand the heat--"

"Listen to me. Whumpee's bones are barely healed. They haven't passed a single stress test since....since it happened. They're too weak to be of any use." Harsh, maybe, but Healer can't afford to be sensitive when Whumpee's life could be on the line. "If they get into trouble, there may not be any getting out. Not like last time."

I may not be able to fix them like last time.

Leader walks away but Healer is right on his heels. "Their role is a stationary one," Leader says, unperturbed. "Very little chance of trouble finding them from a surveillance van. If they want to back out, they need only say the word."

Fury ablaze, Healer steps in front of Leader, blocking his path. She ignores how a dangerous look flashes across his face. "Whumpee would step in front of a moving train if you told them to. To prove that they could. To make you proud. Don't you dare take advantage of that. They are not your soldier."

More than his usual annoyance, the new look on Leader's face puts Healer at unease. But she stands her ground, refusing to step aside. It's not a look of anger, of indignation at her disrespect. It's thoughtfulness. Like he's just been handed a fun new toy. Like he can't wait to see what it can do.

"Loyalty," he says, and the way the word rolls off his tongue makes Healer's stomach drop, "is a valuable gift. To give, and to be given. Whumpee's loyalty makes them an incredibly important asset to the team....and you're right, Healer. You're absolutely right. Whumpee should be safeguarded, given time to heal and regain their strengths. Effective immediately, they're suspended from the mission."

Healer can't find it in herself to be relieved. There's a caveat coming, she can feel it.

Leader lays a heavy hand on her shoulder, and her stomach drops. "We'll be leaving in an hour. Best give Whumpee one more check up, don't you think?"

Excitement runs hot and electric through Whumpee as they practically run to the medical wing. Time for another mission, but more than that. A second chance.

They knock on the examination room door, but don't wait for permission to enter. At this point, this room is as familiar to them as their own quarters. They've spent the better part of a month inside these sterile white walls under Healer's masterful hands.

Healer works at the counter, her back to Whumpee.

"You can't seem to get rid of me, doc!" They hop on the examination table, jarring their sore arm, but they don't let on how much it hurts. They've been practicing.

Craning their neck, they try to peer over Healer's shoulder but can't catch a glimpse of her work. Their thoughts swiftly drift to the mission, and their eyes to the anatomical posters hanging around the room. Skeletal system, nervous system, muscular, endocrine. Diagrams of the human brain. Healer had shown Whumpee what was happening in their body when she healed them from Villain's beatdown, how her powers combined with the medicine she prescribed facilitated almost miraculous repairs.

"Whip up some of your magic so I can get out of here!" Whumpee pinches a corner off the paper covering the exam table. "I still need to get my things ready. Lots to do. I didn't pack enough snacks last time. Or gauze." They shake away the memories. This time, they'll be more careful.

"I just want to make sure you're all set for field work," Healer says. Something clatters on the counter. "Can't be too careful."

Whumpee slowly flexes their sore arm, rolling their eyes. If there's one thing they've learned about Healer through all this, it's that she's inhumanly thorough. No stone unturned, no ailment untreated. Her attention to detail combined with unmatched empathy made her a good medic. The best Whumpee has ever seen, actually. And she tells it straight, the good and the bad, no lies to spare your feelings. Whumpee knows her tough love is the real reason why they've healed so quickly from the worst beating they've ever survived.

"Leader seems to think I'm ready to get back out there. I've got an important role in the plan. You heard him, he said--"

"Leader isn't your doctor."

Healer's voice was hard edges and ice. Whumpee had heard that voice before, usually when she found out that they'd been negelcting physical therapy. Whumpee felt themself shrink a bit in their seat, disappointed to have been a disappointment.

Healer exhales a slow breath, her back and shoulders deflating until she, too, seems smaller where she stands. "But…he believes in you. You've made a lot of progress. I'm very proud of you. You’re gonna do great."

Healer turns around and walks to where Whumpee, ever the model patient, sits on the cushioned table. In one hand she holds a bottle of water, and in the other, she pinches a small paper cup between her fingers. At the bottom, two blue tablets lay like pale snapdragon petals.

She holds out the water and cup. "Down the hatch."

"What's this?" Whumpee asks, but takes both from her.

Healer adjusts the pillow at the head of the table, hair obstructing her eyes. “Pain relief.”

Easy enough, Whumpee knocks the pills back. With the water, they go down smoothly. “That’s it then?”

“Yeah, that’s it.”

Thrill rushes through them. Back in the field. Another chance to prove their skill. Their capability. Their worth.

Leader believes in me, they think. Healer is proud of me. They don’t know which is the sweeter thought.

They jump from the table, mind already back in their room, gathering up what they need for the mission. No sooner do their shoes touch the tile floor than that shock of thrill turns cold, then fuzzy warm, and then the lights are too bright. And the room is tilting.

“Woah—”

Their knees buckle beneath them. They reach for something to catch but it’s too late. They’re already falling and the world is out of reach.

Strong arms scoop them up. “Easy does it.” Healer’s voice.

“Healer, I…I feel…”

“I know.”

Grotesque diagrams of flayed human bodies warp beneath the harsh lights. There is something here, in this room where safety could once be trusted. Something wrong.

The horrible images all slide away, replaced by a cold, rectangular sun. Healer is somewhere, close and distant, laying them back on the table with arms too long. Softness embraces their head but Whumpee finds no comfort in it.

Half of what they mean to say is lost, butchered as it passes through the sieve of their tongue and teeth. “Healer...(help)...I'm...(feeling)...wrong."

“Shh, I know.”

Sharp metal gleams on the border of their sight but when they turn to see what instruments of pain and horror await, there are only blurred silver sheets where tables once were, and Healer’s sad eyes.

Then Whumpee understands. And they know they’d take ten broken bones over betrayal's deep, hollow pain.

Maybe there were real words on their tongue, or a scream, or a curse, but all that comes out is a high whimper—weak, pathetic, helpless—that follows them into sleep.

#heartwhump #whump requests #whump drabble #whump writing #sedation #fade to black #whumpee #bad leader #healer #whump betrayal #not sure if it's cool to tag with hero and sidekick but it's a hero setting so #hero whump #sidekick whumpee #bad caretaker #maybe???#betrayal #caretaker

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