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forays-into-fiction · 2 years

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Meet Me After the Show

Eddie and his band, Corroded Coffin are starting to make it big, concerts, recording deals, the whole nine yards, but they’re still kind of underground. You’re their number one fan, head over heels for their heartthrob lead singer/guitarist.

Back at it again with the filth. 😈

Warnings for poor self-esteem/body image issues. Rockstar!Eddie x PlusSize!Virgin!Reader, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Pet-names (sweetheart/princess), Oral(Male and Female Receiving) Implications of Free-use, Cum Eating

MINIORS DNI

Credit to @pitifulbaby on the photo

You stood in line anxiously waiting your turn to take a photo after the Corroded Coffin show. Their lead singer/guitarist was your celebrity crush and you were swooning at the sight of him, all sweaty from the performance, his wild hair swishing as he spoke with his fans animatedly, you eye his bare arms lingering on his tattoos. Before too long it’s your turn, you step forward and he’s beaming at you, looking you right in the eyes, his chocolate brown irises twinkling. “Hello, so nice to meet you! What’s your name?”

“Y/n.” You answer shyly. “It’s lovely to meet you too.”

“I’m Eddie.” he gestures to himself as if you don’t know. He gasps suddenly and his hand darts out grabbing your wrist, he holds your arm alongside his own, “Awww, look we match.” He lines up his bat tattoo with your own that you’d gotten in honour of him.

You blush looking away, he drops your arm and positions himself for a photo, pulling you in close.

“Smile,” he whispers in your ear.

You feel like you’re floating on a cloud, everything about the experience feels so surreal.

You step back expecting the interaction to be over after the photo is taken, but he’s pulling you back in for a hug, whispering into your ear again, “If you wanna stick around for a bit I’ll be back once the crowd clears.” He steps back giving you a wink.

What? What was that? You can’t believe your ears, you nod mutely before stepping away.

The crowd had dissipated and you’ve been standing off to the side waiting for 20 minutes… 30 minutes… an hour, feeling more and more ridiculous by the minute. Maybe you’d misheard him, maybe he didn’t really mean anything by it, maybe it was the sort of thing he said to all the girls. After all, what would he want with someone like you? You’d had this sort of thing your whole life, guys only ever asking you out as a joke, making fun of you, doing the stupidest shit just to embarrass and humiliate you. You could feel tears beginning to prick at the corner of your eyes, balling up your fist No, no don’t cry, don’t be dumb, just leave you think to yourself trying to suppress your emotions. But then you see him, trotting towards you, curls bouncing, smiling widely.

“Hey, there you are. Sorry you had to wait so long, got caught up signing autographs, wanted to make sure everyone that wanted one got one.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

You’re reeling, it feels like you’re on a roller-coaster of highs and lows tonight.

You giggle, “Aww you’re so sweet. I kind of thought you forgot about me though, didn’t really expect you to show up.” You toe at the ground staring at your feet.

He leans against the wall beside you, “Oh, I could never forget about you, sweetheart. Girl as pretty as you? Never.”

You scoff, “Yeah, right. So umm… why… why did you want me to wait for you?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Sweetheart, I want to… get to know you.” He replies suggestively with a smirk.

You splutter, “What? Why?”

“Like, I said you’re pretty, I’m interested. And if I could be so bold, I think you might be too… right?” Grinning all the while. “It’s fine if you’re not though, that’s ok, really.” He rushes to add, leaning back, smile dropping slightly.

Your head snaps up, you look at him wide-eyed, “No. no, I am… interested, I mean. It’s just I’ve never really done anything like this.”

“Never been with a rockstar before, hmmm? That’s ok I’ll go easy on you.” He says cockily.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“So you wanna get out of here, go back to your place?” He suggests.

You nod eagerly.

“You got a car or should I call a taxi?”

“Yeah I drove here, just me, none of my friends are really into this stuff.” You shrug.

“No boyfriend to take you out?” He probes

“No, no boyfriend.” You sigh.

“Well, lead the way sweetheart.” He says with a sweeping bow and a gesture of his hand.

“Here we are.” You pull your keys out unlocking your car.

As you turn over the engine your radio clicks to life, blaring Corroded Coffin, you cringe.

“Awww, my little fangirl, you were listening to our music on your way here.”

“Shut up!” You protest hating how whiny it comes out.

“No, I think it’s cute. You musta been soooo excited.” He continues teasing.

You slap his arm playfully, “Enough, just let me drive.”

He pokes his tongue out at you.

A few moments pass before he blurts out suddenly, “You uh… you got condoms at home? I didn’t bring any.”

“No, I mean it’s not like I was expecting anything like this to happen.”

“That’s ok, you know anywhere we can stop along the way?”

“Yeah uh there’s a shop just around the corner from me, they’d have some.”

You lead him through the aisles, ‘til you get to the right one, you stand back surveying the options, “Which, um.. which one…” you trail off as he reaches over your head, one hand resting on your shoulder as he plucks an item off the shelf.

“These’ll do.”

“Should we… should we get anything else?” You mumble.

“Nah, I’m all set. Why, you need something?”

“No it’s just… what will the cashier think?” You whisper back at him, scandalised.

“Fuck the cashier, let ‘em think whatever they want. Let everyone here know, I’m here to fuck a beautiful girl.” He shouts a little louder than you’re comfortable with.

You slap him again, “Shhhhh! People are staring.”

He laughs, “So what, they’re just jealous I’m here with the prettiest girl in the room.”

“No, really shut up now.” You mutter, heat rising in your cheeks.

“Ok, ok.” He holds up his hands in mock surrender, “Let’s go then.”

You’re standing at your front door fumbling with your keys, you can feel his breath, hot on the back of your neck.

You open the door, flipping on the lights as you step inside. Holding the door open you welcome him in, you close it behind him. You turn to see him, hands jammed into his pockets, rocking on his heels and grinning broadly. You slip off your shoes by the door and he follows in suit.

“So, you want something to drink or-“

You begin to offer but he cuts you off, his lips slamming into yours eagerly, his hands snaking around you. You gasp, caught by surprise, he takes advantage of this, slipping his tongue in alongside your own. You moan deep in the back of your throat as your eyes flutter closed. He’s pushing you back against the front door, one hand rising to cup the back of your head so that you don’t hurt yourself as you stumble back, allowing him to guide you. The two of you break apart gasping for breath. “So where’s the bedroom?” He asks.

“Oh, wow right to the point there.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just…”

You stop him pressing a hand to his shoulder, “No… it’s ok. We can… this way.” You slide your hand down his arm to grasp his hand, leading him to your room.

“Sorry, about the mess.” You mumble straightening up haphazardly.

“Mess? What mess?” He scans the room, “This is nothing princess, don’t be embarrassed on my account.”

He tosses the box of condoms onto your bedside table before unbuckling his belt and tugging his jeans to his ankles, kicking them off. His shirt follows soon after as he hooks a hand through one of the arm holes tossing it aside, it lands by your bed. You hesitate under his gaze, “Now you sweetheart.” He urges.

You’re feeling self conscious as you mimic his actions, starting with your skirt, letting it fall to the floor in a pile around you. You tug at the hem of your shirt with shaky hands, you can’t meet his eye as you pull it over your head and let it drop beside you. Your curves are exposed, every roll, every stretch mark and every perceived flaw. You curl your arms around yourself, shielding yourself from his view as you feel yourself flushing under his gaze.

“Hey, sweetheart don’t hide yourself, I wanna enjoy the view.” He pouts in protest.

“I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m so… I look…” You begin to stutter.

He steps closer, hooking a finger beneath your chin and pulling your head up to face him, “You look perfect, is what you are.” He cuts you off, mouth twisting into a frown. “And if anyone has ever made you feel otherwise, they are dead wrong, princess.”

He grabs your hand pressing it into his hardening length to prove his point, “Just look at what you do to me.”

Your eyes widen, you press your thighs together unconsciously.

“But, uhhh…I’m not exactly experienced when it comes to this, I meant what I said before I’ve never done anything like this.” You admit.

“Oh… ohhhhh.” His eyes widen in understanding, “You meant like never ever, not just like one-night stand kinda thing? Oh god, oh no I was so forward with you. I’m sorry. Do you… are you sure you still wanna do this? The first time… it should be special, you know?” He rambles.

“Do you… still wanna do this?” You counter.

“God, yes. More than ever, but if you don’t… if you wanna stop at any point I totally get that.”

“Honestly, I don’t think it could ever get better than this for me.” You sigh.

“It really could be though, girl like you deserves all kinds of romance, all the bells and whistles especially before your first.”

“I want this though.” You insist.

“You’re sure?” He confirms once again.

You nod.

“And remember, any time you wanna stop, just say the word. I won’t get mad, promise.” He adds solemnly.

“Yep.” You reply shortly.

He moves his hand to cradle the side of your face, swooping in to kiss you in earnest. You kiss back as he guides you to the edge of the bed until the backs of your thighs are pressing into the mattress. He lowers you back onto the bed gently, breaking contact. Your eyes snap open searching for his, you see him pushing down his boxers and slowly stroking up and down his length eyeing you greedily. Your jaw drops as you take in the size of him. He taps your thigh gently and motions for you to move further back, you scoot back and he joins you on the bed continuing his slow, steady strokes.

“You can touch it, you know? Get better acquainted with it.” He teases.

You wrap your hand around his length loosely, he drops his hand over yours guiding your grip, “Yeah just like that, sweetheart.”

You swipe a thumb over his tip on the upstroke and he lets out a deep, rumbling moan.

You look up at him watching his reactions to your motions, “Can I… can I suck it?” You ask tentatively, you begin to salivate.

“Oh, of course you can princess. We can do whatever you want.” He offers.

You wet your lips in anticipation as you kneel between his thighs, leaning in you press a soft kiss to his tip, he chuckles, you proceed to lick a strip all the way from the base to the flared head. Precum dribbles down his length, collecting in the thatch of curls at his crotch, you close your mouth over the weeping head and hollow your cheeks. He gives a low moan, “God, yes that’s perfect, do that again.”

You sink lower on his cock taking more of him into your mouth, moving a little too quickly, you pull back abruptly as you gag, eyes watering.

He strokes your cheek, “Hey, hey take it easy sweetheart. Take your time, we’ve got all night.”

You nod and go back for another attempt, slower this time, you manage to take more than before clenching your hands as the urge to gag rises again, you manage to suppress it this time. His hand comes to rest in your hair gently, not pushing or pulling just there, soothing over the crown of your head. You’re getting sloppy, drool leaks out of the corners of your mouth dribbling down your chin, mingling with his precum at his base. His breathy moans urging you on, you feel him throbbing on your tongue. Wetness pools in your underwear, soaking through the gusset and you find yourself whining around him. He rubs circles into your arm before easing you off of him gently.

“Was that… was that ok? Why did you stop me?” You gasp as you catch your breath.

“Oh, sweetheart that was amazing.” He croons, “You did so good for me, but I had to stop before all of this ended far too soon.”

He flips you onto your back, your head resting against the pillows, he moves to hover over you, hands pressed into the mattress by your shoulders. He presses his lips to yours fervently, you allow his tongue to glide over yours. He nips at your lower lip before moving to trail soft kisses slowly down your neck. He reaches a hand around you, unclasping your bra with a flick of his wrist. The cups loosen and he’s pushing them aside to press his lips lower and lower until he is circling a nipple with the tip of his tongue. You let out a breathy moan as he latches on to it, sucking and laving at it with his tongue. You slip your arms out of the garment, tossing it aside. You begin to squirm when he ventures lower, nearing the swell of your belly. He glances up at you, checking in, “This ok?”

“Yeah… mhhm… just uh, just a little… self conscious again.” You admit, embarrassed, breaking eye contact.

“Oh sweetheart, what did I say? Hmmm. You are beautiful. You are a goddess and you deserve to be worshiped.” He looks up at you reverently.

You giggle, swatting at him playfully, “Stop it. Don’t you think you’re laying it on just a little too thick now.”

“Never, not til you see just how beautiful you really are.”

He resumes his journey down your body, toying with the elastic of your underwear. He takes in the sight of your ruined panties with a low growl, “Oh, just look at this pretty, little mess you’ve made. Is all that just for little, old me?”

You nod, humming in the affirmative. He palms at your mound, spreading your wetness further, “Please…” a broken moan escapes your lips.

He pulls your panties to the side, fingers delving between your sticky folds, “Is this what you wanted, sweetheart? Want me to make you feel good? Go on, ask for it.” He urges.

“God, yes! Please, Eddie… need you.” You whimper.

“So pretty when you beg.” He pulls his fingers away and you whine, hips lifting off the mattress searching for contact.

“Needy too, I see.” He teases, “I’m just gonna get rid of these.” He starts tugging the fabric down your plump legs. He lays yet another kiss on the innermost part of your thigh, pulling away before you get too uncomfortable.

“Now it’s your turn,” he smirks up at you, “turn about is fair play and all that.”

He licks a stripe along the centre of your folds, you jolt when he reaches your clit, bursts of electricity emanating throughout your body. He remains there, pushing one hand onto your tummy, pressing you down into the mattress as he eases a ringed finger inside you. He starts off slow, crooking his finger gently, matching the rhythm of his tongue as it moves in circles against you. He adds another finger alongside the first, stretching you open, leaving you panting and gasping for more.

His rings clink together at your entrance, slick with your juices, he sucks at your clit firmly, you gush around him and he adds yet another finger. “Come on that’s it, you can take it.” He mumbles, the vibration of his voice sending you into orbit. Your hands curl into fists crumpling the sheets beneath you. He continues pressing down on your abdomen, your hips fight against him with a mind of their own. For a moment you could swear you’re seeing stars, then you’re coming down from your high, legs shaking around his head.

He grins up at you, eyes twinkling, his face smeared with your release, he licks his lips before wiping it away with the back of his hand.

“So, how was that?” His cheeky grin never fading.

You’re speechless, can’t even string together a sentence.

“That good, huh?” He asks smugly.

You nod still unable to form words, he laughs.

He moves back up, coming face to face with you, “You think you’re ready for more?” He brushes a stray hair behind your ear.

“Yes, please… please, fuck me.” You whine, desperately.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” He chuckles leaning over to the bedside table, reaching for the box of condoms. He pulls one out, tearing open the package and rolling it down over his impressive length.

He grips the base of his cock guiding it between your folds, dragging the tip across you clit. You let out a strangled cry, “Please, Eddie… need more… please, oh god.”

He grins down at you, “All in good time, sweetheart.”

He starts easing himself inside you, moving slow, letting you adjust to the intrusion. Your walls stretch easily, welcoming his length. There is a slight burn, that becomes barely perceptible when he drops a hand between the two of you to rub lazy circles into your clit.

He’s only just entered you before you’re gasping, a hand moving to grip his wrist as he continues to circle your sensitive nub with his thumb.

“Oh god.” You wail, eyes squeezing shut as your walls clamp down on the head of his cock rhythmically.

“Did you just… from just the tip… wow, sweetheart you’re gonna give me an ego.”

“You mean, more than you already do.” You tease back breathlessly.

“Oh, someone’s found their voice. Pretty bold for someone who just came apart from the barest touch.” He tuts. “Someone’s going to need to teach you some manners, sweetheart.”

“Maybe that can be a lesson for another time?”

He groans at the implication, pushing into you further “Wish I could just pack you up and take you everywhere with me. You’d like that wouldn’t you? You’d be such a good little fucktoy for me?”

“Yes! I’ll be good for you, please use me!” You keen in reply. He bottoms out, burying himself deeper in your needy cunt as it draws him in, his balls coming to rest against your ass.

He growls, rumbling deep in his chest, “God damn, such a filthy little mouth you have. You want that? Hmm, want me to use you. Oh sweetheart, I would break you.” He pulls out almost all the way, before slamming back in to emphasise his point. Your hands grasp at his shoulders, nails digging in, he repeats the action and your walls flutter around him.

“‘M gonna… ‘m gonna…” You whine, unable to complete your thought.

“You gonna cum again. Good, cum for me. That’s it, such a good girl.” He croons in your ear, encouragingly.

Your eyes begin to water at the sensation, you’re almost to the point of over-stimulation. You were teetering on the precipice and his words are enough to send you toppling over the edge, you hook a leg around him drawing him deeper than you would’ve thought possible. Calling his name you bare down on his cock again and he lets out a strangled moan in response, “Yeah, say my name. Who do you belong to? Who owns this tight, little pussy?” You’re still reeling, quaking with aftershocks from your orgasm, unable to answer him, but it doesn’t really matter. He continues, “That’s right, me, I do.”

He pulls out rolling off the condom tossing it aside, he moves to straddle your torso. He’s fisting his cock desperately over your chest, head thrown back, bottom lip trapped between his teeth, eyes shut tight. He groans, calling out your name as his cum splatters your tits. Eyes opening he leans in propping himself up with a hand against the wall beside you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He pulls away panting, rolling off you. He reaches down grabbing his shirt from the floor where it landed and moves to wipe off his release. You stop him grabbing his arm, he looks at you confused, you swipe a finger across your chest, scooping up his cum before sucking it off your fingertip moaning. He gapes at you, you look at him feeling self conscious again, “What? I just… I wanted to see what it would taste like.”

He groans deeply, “God damn, you have no idea how fucking hot that was. That one is definitely going to the spank-bank.”

You giggle, “Good to know, cause I am never going to forget that.” You sigh.

“Sorry, if that was too much, I got a little too intense at the end there didn’t I?” He says sheepishly.

“No, that was… that was perfect.” You reassure him, dopey grin plastered across your face.

“Yeah, what was it that you said… ‘I’ll be good’, ‘use me’” he teases. “Oh, that was gold sweetheart, who knew you had it in you?”

You blush at his praise, “So, uh can I see you again?” You ask hopeful.

“I don’t know that you’re done seeing me now, sweetheart.”

“Oh god.” You whine rubbing a hand down your face.

#eddie munson fic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #rockstar!eddie #plus size!reader #virgin!reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #cw body image #tw body image #cw negative self-image #tw negative thoughts #tw negative self-image #tw negative self talk

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murderoushagthesequel · 10 months

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I'm Here

from @jegulus-microfic's prompt, impatient (352 words)

ok i think this feels a bit rushed but overall i quite like it so! yeah enjoy. also this is a happy one despite the cws i promise. CW for negative self talk, mild self harm

Fuck, he’s so stupid. Of course James wouldn’t show. He’s, well, James Potter. And Regulus is just Regulus. He paces the small stone room hidden behind his favourite tapestry in the castle. He’s been told he paces when he’s nervous, which, of course, he always denies. Regulus Black doesn’t get nervous, what a preposterous notion.

He continues to obsessively check his watch. In thirty seconds, James will officially be late. Merlin, why would you even think he would meet you here? You’re just his best friend’s know-it-all, grossly skinny, rude little brother whom everyone hates. Of course James Potter would never be interested in you. He probably only agreed to meet you for a laugh. He begins to scratch at his arm, feeling the burn as the skin gets redder and the voice in his head only continues to berate him.

And then, he hears a rustle behind him. Whirling around, Regulus is broken out of his trance by none other than James Potter standing before him in the cramped room.

“You’re late,” he snarls with a glare, though inside he’s flooding with relief.

“And you’re impatient, Reg,” James laughs, putting a hand on his shoulder. “I told you I was coming, and here I am. I’m here,” he assures. And Regulus sighs, letting the tension seep out of his body and relaxing, feeling the warmth of James’ hand radiate through his body.

James is here. James was always going to be here. Because he’s good. Because when he sees the red scratch marks on Regulus’ arm, he kisses them better and doesn’t ask questions. Because he sits and talks to Regulus all night. Because it turns out someone like him is interested in Regulus, and will do everything he can to prove that. And, well, that just fills Regulus with warm, fuzzy feelings he didn’t know he was capable of.

“It’s really rather repulsive, you know,” Regulus says as the sun is just starting to come up. James cocks his head in question. “Feelings.” James laughs wholeheartedly and the feeling only grows. Well. Regulus is in trouble now. Isn’t that wonderful?

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whump-card · 7 months

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Sunless Lives Part 33: I Need to Survive

~2840 words

CW: negative self-talk, beating, broken bones, attempted murder, torture, vampire whump, gunshots, vampire feeding, vomit, mouth whump, non-sexual throat fuck with a foreign object??? fellas…

Also NO main character death!

First, Previous, Next, Masterlist

~~~

“Mr Bowers, where are we going?”

Bowers glanced at Simon in the rearview.

“You’ll see.”

Simon huddled in the back seat as Bowers drove. He swore, he was never getting into the backseat of a car ever again. But he’d had no choice in this case; Bowers was a grade B vampire, and could easily snap Simon in half if he wanted to. Running was not an option on his ruined feet. Simon had let the vampire tuck him into the backseat and buckle him in like a child, and could only hope that cooperating would make whatever was about to happen as painless as possible.

He was doing his best to not think about what might be coming, but with Bowers refusing to answer his questions Simon had nothing to do but think as he shivered in the backseat. The rain had turned the May night cold, and Simon��s thin pajamas did little to keep him warm.

What if he’s taking you to an initiation.

Simon watched Bowers carefully, and waited until he was looking away while making a turn to feel the item Nora had dropped into his pocket.

What if they’re going to pin you down and -

It was a small metal and glass square. An MP3 player? A smartwatch? Simon didn’t want to take it out and look.

He’s not preybonded to you and Lara’s rules are gone, he can kill you. He can kill you.

“Please,” His voice was steadier than he expected, “Tell me what’s happening.”

“I would,” Bowers replied flatly, “But you wouldn’t like it.”

Yeah, no shit.

Matthew wouldn’t have let this happen.

Simon screwed his eyes shut, flinching from the pang of guilt.

Matthew-the-vampire wouldn’t have let this happen. He’s human now, and that’s a good thing. Whatever happens is worth it. Him being human and alive is worth it.

You’re not.

You’re not worth it.

Simon stared out the window and hoped against hope that the square meant help was coming.

~~~

“We can’t just run off without authorization!” Amber yelled.

“Bowers could discover they’re being tracked any second!” Matthew bellowed, “We’re leaving now!”

He and Gina burst out of the stairwell and into the parking garage, Amber chasing after them.

“You’re going to get yourselves killed!” she shrieked.

“What if they get on a plane, huh?” Matthew snapped at her, “What if they go somewhere we can’t follow?”

“We will figure it out!”

They reached Gina’s car and Gina opened the passenger side.

“We can’t wait for Dune to decide that Simon’s worth it,” Matthew kept arguing while Gina searched through her glove box, “I’m not letting him be taken again.”

“Neither am I.” Gina rejoined him, loading a pistol.

“But Bowers is a grade B, he…” Amber’s outrage melted into fear. “With only the two of you against him… He’ll kill you.”

“You could make it three.”

“I…” Amber slowly shook her head.

“You’re a fucking coward, Amber,” Gina spat.

“No, I’m not!” Amber’s voice echoed through the garage, louder and angrier than they had ever heard. “You think anyone will come after you if I go with you? I need to be here, to convince them to send you guys backup!”

Gina and Matthew exchanged a glance. Amber was right - she was the only one in a position to sway the VIU.

“Here.” Amber unstrapped her holster from around her waist and handed it and the gun it held to Matthew.

“Thanks,” he said, softening.

“Just… Survive as long as you can, and I will send backup ASAP.”

Amber stepped out of the way and watched as Gina’s car pulled out of the parking garage.

Then she sprinted back into the building, determined to do what she could.

~~~

Simon slammed into the ground, bruising his knees and scraping his palms raw on the wet asphalt.

“Get up,” Bowers ordered, closing the car door.

“I can’t!” Simon gasped. Bowers grabbed his arm and hauled him upright. He was done playing games. Simon cried out when his feet were forced to touch the ground, but no one was around to hear him.

They were in some sort of warehouse district; massive buildings loomed out of the dark around them, and Simon hadn’t seen a soul on their way in. Whatever Bowers needed this level of privacy for couldn’t be good. Simon’s earlier shocked calm, necessitated to keep Nora alive, had worn off and now he was truly terrified, trembling in Bowers’ grip.

Bowers half dragged, half walked Simon to the door of the warehouse he’d pulled his car up in front of. He threw open the unlocked door and shoved Simon through. Simon fell into the dark, bruising his limbs a second time as he tried to brace his landing. A moment later lights flickered on above him; he was surrounded by sky-high shelves full of plastic-wrapped boxes. He rolled over to look at Bowers, still posed by the light switch. Simon’s heart pounded and his breath came fast.

“Here’s where I come clean.” Bowers reached down and plucked up a length of pipe from where it leaned against the wall, as if waiting for him. It was about three feet long and two inches in diameter, and made of aged dark metal. The ends glinted bright where they were sawn off.

Bowers started to take leisurely steps towards Simon, who began to pull himself backward along the floor, eyes glued to the pipe.

No.

“Everyone’s noticed by now, since the humans got the cure, and our man Yarl is out, the vampires being caught the fastest are the ex-clients of one Miss Lara Everett.” He twirled the pipe around. “That’s no good for us. No good for business.”

Simon rolled over onto his hands and knees, desperate to get away, to get away faster.

“But of course, none of them can kill you… Not directly, anyway. But I can. So I’m cleaning up, Simon. I took care of Isles and… You’re next.”

Simon froze, petrified.

Christian… dead?

YOU’RE NEXT.

Charged with adrenaline, Simon dug his feet into the floor and ran. The pain ripped a cry out of his throat. He made it two steps before the pain in his feet and his overworked legs made him stumble. His skinned palms crashed into the concrete floor yet again, then his elbow when his right wrist collapsed. But Simon moved through the pain, pushing himself up onto his left hand and his battered knees with a gasp. He could still move, he could still -

Bowers’ shoe stomped into his back, flattening him back to the floor. Simon twisted his head to look up, one cheek pressed against the concrete. Bowers leaned down, putting more weight on Simon’s back and ribcage.

“And since I have to do it anyway,” he smiled, “I may as well enjoy it.” He stepped off of Simon and raised the pipe. Simon twisted his body to the side.

“Please, don’t-!”

The vampire brought the pipe down with a tremendous clang onto Simon’s left hip and a crack shot through Simon’s pelvis. Simon shrieked as the pain lanced up his spine and down his legs like white hot fire. He had no time to process the hit before the pipe came down again, smashing into his femur with a crunch. Simon tried to curl up, to hide from the excruciating pain, to expel it through his mouth, but the next hit shattered his left shoulder blade. His existence felt like one unending screech of agony as he writhed on the concrete under Bowers’ merciless gaze. Bile rose in his throat and he gagged, desperate to fall unconscious, desperate for it to end. He couldn’t even form the words to beg. He could only breathe, scream, breathe, scream.

I don’t want to die.

“Fuck, you’re loud!” Bowers shouted over Simon’s ceaseless wailing, “Let’s see what we can do about that!”

He seized Simon by the neck and dragged him upright, his back against Bowers’ legs. This sent new waves of pain through Simon’s body as displaced nerves jostled against bone crushed against muscle. Bowers shifted his grip to Simon’s jaw, pulling his already screaming mouth open wider. He lifted the metal rod and shoved the end of it into Simon’s mouth, and pushed, the sharp metal edges tearing, ripping, scraping at the delicate tissue of Simon’s cheeks, his tongue, his throat, as Bowers forced the rod in further, not caring what damage he caused. Simon choked, on the rod, on the blood, on bits of flesh. His screams were finally stifled as he struggled to breathe. His arms flopped uselessly. His eyes rolled.

“Better,” Bowers grunted, “Much better.” He yanked the rod out, splattering blood, and dropped Simon back to the floor where he heaved and choked and spat out blood and chunks of his own throat. Gone was the screaming; now Simon could only agonizingly gag and wheeze.

Bowers raised the rod once more and brought it down on Simon’s right shoulder. Simon’s whole body jerked, but the only sound he made was a horrifying gurgle. He shouldn’t still be awake. He shouldn’t still be alive. It wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair, wasn’t fair. His brain reverted to primeval instincts: The danger is behind you. Crawl.

Simon dug his fingernails into the concrete and dragged himself, inch by inch, forward. It was the only thing he could do. Maybe, somehow, he could crawl away from the pain. Leave it behind.

Bowers stood back and watched Simon struggle, clawing at the floor until his fingernails broke. Going nowhere.

He laughed, and it echoed throughout the building.

BANG!

Matthew fired from where he stood by the door, gun raised and eyes full of fire. Bowers spun, his hand flying to his shoulder where blood burst from a bullet wound. He crouched and sprang back, taking shelter in an isle of shelves as another shot rang out. Matthew cursed and lowered his weapon, running forward towards Simon. Gina hung back, watching the room like a hawk. Matthew fell to his knees at Simon’s side.

Simon was lying face-down on the ground, silent and still. Blood seeped out of his mouth and bandages around his feet were stained red. Horribly dark and discolored blotches of skin peeked out from his t-shirt. His left leg lay at a sickening angle. Bruises littered his arms; his nails were cracked and bleeding.

“No, Simon…” Matthew reached out to touch him.

“Matthew, look out!” Gina shouted.

Matthew looked up and saw the vampire charging towards him, pipe raised, moving at an unnaturally fast pace. Matthew had just enough time to duck, and he felt the rush of air and heard a faint whistle as the pipe whizzed over his head. A second later and his brains would have been bashed in. Bowers kept sprinting past him, and shots rang out as Gina tried to hit him before he disappeared back into the stacks of boxes.

“Shit, he’s too fast, I can’t hit him!” she yelled.

Matthew stood, staring at the isle Bowers had disappeared into. He pulled his phone out of his pocket with a shaking hand.

“I need to call an ambulance now or it might not arrive in time - Gina!”

Gina turned in time to see Bowers making a run at her out of the stacks. She stood her ground, aiming and firing as he approached. Her shot landed in his chest, but he was unphased, and swung the pipe as he passed her. With no time left to dodge, Gina was hit squarely in the stomach and knocked to the ground. Her body convulsed as she dry heaved and gasped for the air that had been knocked out of her.

“Gina!” If she was down, Bowers would make his next blow a killing one. Matthew started to sprint over to her, but he heard inhumanly quick footsteps behind him. He started to turn but was hit squarely in the right arm.

“Ahhg!”

Pain erupted as his humerus snapped. His arm spasmed and his gun clattered to the floor. He stumbled and only caught a glimpse of Bowers as he vanished back into the maze of warehouse shelves. Matthew looked around wildly, at Gina, struggling to stand, at Simon, a mangled mess on the floor. He couldn’t protect both of them - he couldn’t protect either of them

Bowers was too fast.

Too powerful.

He was going to kill them.

Breathing hard through the pain, Matthew stuffed his phone back into his pocket and scooped up the gun in his left hand. Amber’s gun.

She wasn’t going to get there in time.

He heard Gina scream - a shriek of true fear, something he’d never heard from her before that poured ice down his spine - and he could only watch as Bowers flitted past her and knocked her from where she had just started to stand up back to the concrete with a horrible clang. She lay frighteningly still, a red gash at her temple. Bowers was already gone.

Matthew raised his weapon and spun around, frantically searching for Bowers. His right arm dangled, useless and excruciating. He heard footsteps, but in the large echoing building he had no way of pinpointing their location. They grew louder, faster, and Matthew pivoted to see Bowers rushing towards him, his eyes full of bloodlust and his knuckles white where they gripped the pipe. Matthew fired haphazardly, the first shot flying over Bowers’ shoulder and the second one hitting home in the center of his chest. Bowers finally stumbled, and instead of hitting Matthew with the pipe the vampire tackled him, pressing the pipe down over his throat. Matthew caught it with the heel of his good hand, still holding the gun, but was only able to resist the downward pressure for a moment before the vampire’s superior strength won out and the pipe pressed down on Matthew’s throat. Bowers held the pipe down with one hand and easily plucked the gun away from Matthew with the other, tossing it aside.

Matthew couldn’t breathe. He wheezed and reached up to claw fruitlessly at Bowers’ face. Bowers only smiled, baring his fangs, and bore down on the pipe harder.

“Not so tough now that you’ve been cured, huh?”

Matthew’s legs kicked uselessly against the floor. Bowers held him pinned there for what felt like an eternity. Matthew felt the air in his blood running out as his raised arm wavered and collapsed and his legs stopped moving. Spots filled his vision.

Suddenly the pressure lifted, and Matthew was able to suck in a stinging lungful of air. The relief lasted less than seconds, though, as the pipe was replaced by fangs. They sank into Matthew’s neck, and his chestful of air rushed out of him in a strangled cry. He was able to breath a little now, and movement returned to his limbs, but he could only wriggle and push at the vampire to no effect as Bowers fed, holding Matthew’s neck still with his teeth and his hands on Matthew’s shoulders.

Matthew had never been bitten before. It was expected to happen eventually in his line of work, but senior agents had always warned him: there’s no way of preparing for it.

There’s no way it won’t stick with you.

It’s slower than you think.

As Bowers leeched his vitality from him, Matthew found he could turn his head, ever so slightly, and look around. First to Gina, still motionless on the floor. Then over to Simon, his head in a pool of blood.

He could only be grateful he was dying among friends.

He began to feel cold, and dizzy. He lifted his hand to look at it: pale white and shaking. He could only hold it up for a second before it slumped to the floor. He refocused, as best as he was able, on Simon, who now looked very far away.

I’m so sorry. He couldn’t tell if he was thinking, or speaking, or just mouthing the words.

It shouldn’t have ended like this.

Not for you.

You deserved better.

I love you.

Bowers lifted away from him, and Matthew felt the blood run down his neck.

He must be done.

I must be dead.

Then he heard a horrible hacking cough. With great effort, Matthew rolled his head to look at Bowers.

The vampire was doubled over, clutching his chest, gagging and sputtering.

“No,” Bowers cried out, “No, no!”

He spasmed, and vomited up blood. He turned and screamed wordlessly at Matthew, spattering red. He heaved in a breath, and his own blood leaked out around his fingers where he pressed them to his chest.

“You poisoned me!” he wailed at Matthew, “Fucking turncoat!”

A smile crept over Matthew’s lips.

The cure.

It was in his blood.

It was turning Bowers human - and humans can’t survive two shots to the chest.

At least Matthew could die knowing the three of them had been avenged.

That Simon had been avenged.

His eyes drifted closed as sirens approached in the distance.

~~~

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Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @sunshiline-writes, @seasaltandcopper, @pirefyrelight

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #sunless lives #sunless lives arc 4 #cw negative self talk #cw beating #cw broken bones #cw attempted murder #cw torture #vampire whump #cw gunshots #vampire feeding #cw vomit #cw mouth whump

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righteousruin · 1 month

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Oh Christ,

Steadfast belief in restorative justice is psychosis, Grant??

#Like don’t get me wrong I DO agree that Batman’s refusal to kill is intimately linked to that moment in his life!#I DO believe part of him will always be stuck in that alley!#But Batman’s commitment to giving people a chance to do better isn't psychosis???#It’s his decision to be kind despite the alternative making his life a MILLION times easier that makes him a hero #It’s not a compulsion you fuckwit it’s a radical act of compassion and proof of his determination and self-control #You were so close to being good at your job shame on me for having hope for one second #Ooc #negativity cw #You’re both wrong how about that!!#It’s an essential element to him being a super rich white dude in a place of privilege trying to lead by example for a better world #Real shock that two of the most prominent white voices in comic entertainment don’t want to talk about that tho color me been knew

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kitakami-zorua-kin · 1 month

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i - i'm so sorry - i didn't - i didn't know i'm sorry i - i should've - should've been there - i care i do i'm sorry - i didn't know - not again please i'm sorry not again i can't - i'm sos orry i should've been there i'm sorry i didn't know i would''ve been there if i knew i would've i'm so sorry i didn't know- rus? shit - rus, bud, you alright?! i - i'm sorry so sorry i didn't know not again they never should've fished me out i can't help anyone should've juhst left me in the sea- i'ms sorry i didn't know i care i do i'm so sorry i- i can't do it again i can't do the fucking kitakami trip again please i'm so sorry i'll be there next time i swear- fuck

#pkmn irl #russet yaps #drayster posting #russet's spring break #cw language #cw breakdown #tw breakdown #cw negative self talk #tw negative self talk #cw implied suicidal thoughts #tw implied suicidal thoughts #//like just barely but uh. just in case y'know?#//HOPE YALL LIKE THE CONCLUSION OF THE SPRING BREAK ARC #//shockingly enough upon backreading!!! russet is not doing well!!!#//mod upon seeing this go down while russet's on break: oh he's. he's not. not handling that well...#//i did originally intend to legitimately just. give it a break so i could play stardew...#//but the angst writes itself... :3

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bee-bee-kyuu · 2 months

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Hey uh, I know you probably don’t want to hear about this anymore but

I scrolled back, and now I know you were just upset about one person who seems to be winning every battle they have with others. And how it really affected someone you care about poorly. But it’s not all black and white. Sometimes being that “prodigy” can take a toll on you. I’ve seen it firsthand with one of my friends. At first they wore their win streak with pride, but at some point, between my poorly adjusted reaction and someone else’s, they lost interest in sparring. They’ve been treating their Pokemon’s skill like a curse ever since.

Just be careful with that, I guess. I’m not saying this to judge you. I’m… not in a great position to do that, from what you can probably gather.

(@psyonicscream)

please just leave me alone. i know it was stupid and i wanst thinking but im getting a lot of asks twlling me how selfish and awful i am and i just want it to stop

i wisb i was good at battling like my cousin or like fucking juliana but im not and ill never get that feeling so please just leave me be

#ask #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #im only fifteen i know i shouldny use my age as an excuse but i dont know how to deal with this #im sorry #ill say it over and over but it doesnt matter does it #cw negative self talk

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lucylyall · 7 months

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Last one of these. Also the hardest one to post? On the one hand it's pretty silly, but on the other hand, actually putting this on paper and then reading it made me feel genuinely uncomfortable. When it's just happening in my head, I can kid myself that it's 'fine' and 'not that bad', but when I see it written down, I can see it's not really funny at all.

It's frustrating how often the knowledge of what I need to change and work on just turns into another thing to beat myself up about.

#cw: mental health #cw: negativity #negative self talk #traditional media #4ls art

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heavenfelled · 8 months

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feeling a bit off today, i'm sorry if i'm not around much besides replying to ic things <3

#laying face down on the floor #i am.... so bad at plotting and chatting and thinking of interesting unique things to write about #i'm worried that i've not added any depth to crowley and i'm wasting peoples time #my brain really forcing me to feel self conscious #only to turn around and make me feel embarrassed for those feelings kfhsbf a double edged sword #everyone i talk to is so so cool and creative!!#i just worry that i'm wasting peoples time <3 #negativity cw

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unnocturnal · 2 years

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guess whos on his shane/elliot bullshit because of a sudden epiphany. this stupid bitch

*!! = content warnings

thinkjng aboht these two depressed fucks finding the spark of life again together makes me 😳😳😳😳

liiiikeee elliot writing poems about shane whenever he sees him and keeps them to himself… until one day… maybe he accidentally sends it off… or shane finds it…. and hes like “wtf who would write this about me” because he believes hes deeply unlovable and meanwhile elliots like oh god oh fuck he saw it OH GOD OH FUCK and is shaking his bestie leah about it while she fully knows they pine after each other but are both so convinced they don’t deserve love that they don’t try to approach the other and she has to play match maker

omg and then elliot teaching the kids english and stuff and jas plays with his hair on breaks and shane picks her up one day to see her decorating his hair with flowers and stuff and wonders why his heart skips a beat

like wowwww hes pretty and charming and good with kids. crazy

they dont cross paths often but i swear they probably also eye each other at the saloon

shane wallowing in self doubt and keeping his distance since he doesn’t wanna approach when leah is around but elliot is too nervous to be by himself when shane’s around

shane hears elliot play the piano one day and just casually brings it up one time at the saloon

he absolutely fucks up the compliment tho so elliot has no idea if he’s saying he’s bad or not but shane kinda goes “i played when i was younger, but i don’t think i was really made for it. my fingers are too stubby” but elliot kinda goes “what do u mean ur hands are really nice” without thinking and theyre both like !1?2?1?1 but shanes like “bro ur joking. look at ur hands theyre nice and long and slender mine are just made for manual labor” and elliots like 😳 he said my hands are nice but also goes “so? just because I have long fingers doesn’t mean I’m automatically a pro. it’s about nurturing a skill, and using the tools youve got, yknow?” and shanes like damn. thats deep. ofc its gonna be deep its coming from a writer duh dum dum anyway but hes like “…yeah” and they get quiet a bit, before elliot kind of shyly proposes, “were you… interested in getting back into it?” shane pauses and is like, “… why not, beats sitting at home doing nothing on my time off.” so then they have weekly piano lessons where elliot re-teaches the piano to shane and may or may not intentionally brush hands as they practice. *!! (warning: mild kink warning) elliots the kind of teacher that uses positive feedback so shanes sitting here. in his praise kink era like. GODDAMN. DO NOT GET A CHUB. and totes has to hold in shivers when elliot whispers by his ear some instructions >:) elliots surprised at how fast shane picks things up and is actually rlly impressed he remembers alot still and just needs practice, thinks hes pretty intelligent and charming but obvi shane doesnt think the same way ab himself cuz he thinks he’s pathetic and thinks elliot is wayyyy out of his league

GOD and then they also think theyre too old for love (even though i hc them as late 20s, mid 30s) since they both kiiiinda peaked in highschool with shane and his gridball days and elliot as a theatre kid and both had some whirlwind romances at that young age that end terribly and made them jaded about love and their self worth… the way they really open up to each other initially is when they get drunk and talk about their shitty lives like how *!! (warning: mention of death of loved one, unhealthy coping mechanisms) shane lost both his best friends in the same car crash that killed his gridball career by giving him a life changing injury and is dealing with their loss while also trying to take care of jas and give her the life his bffs wouldve wanted for her and hes struggling to even be there for himself let alone her and he feels so insecure about being a father to her and how bad she must feel to have a dad like him and how worthless of a human being he is

or like how elliot was born into a family of overachievers and everyone’s done something. he lives in the shadow of his family’s legacy and he’s so so scared of being mediocre. he’s the second oldest amongst his siblings but he feels like he hasn’t accomplished anything when his siblings are famous actors, researchers, artists, and engineers. his father is a wildly successful entrepreneur and his mother is an astronaut. his uncle is out filming documentaries at the bottom of the ocean and his grandmother revolutionized the textile industry. he has so much to live up to and so little time, he had to run away to a small little town to just… breathe. be himself. of the two, elliot has already began to try to improve himself and how he views his worth, and he helps shane realize the same thing for himself. to not be afraid to ask for help. to not be afraid to admit you need help. to take baby steps. to take a step backwards. to not feel guilty about not be at your best 24/7. non linear healing. and all the while they deepen their bond they fall deeper in love and it all culminates when they get caught outside the rain together near the library and just… lean in. 👀

GOD I LOVE THEM

#sdv elliot #sdv shane #shane/elliot #cw mild kink #mild kink #unhealthy coping mechanisms #negative self talk #headcanons #stardew valley #sdv #death #death of loved one

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bright-knight-star-light · 2 months

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i think kai needs a little help rn, her friends are very miserable and she's made a massive problem of it for herself

...Yeah. I've messaged her, trying to sort it out for tomorrow. She's certainly... Having a time of it. I'm glad my secondary school wasn't this intense...

[//text messages undercut]

#ask #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #cw suicide mention #cw sui mention #(//jic)#cw negative self talk

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divorce-master · 10 months

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I tried my best to help him. And failed.

God im a horrible father, aren't I?

#jodie foster #ask blog #jodie foster dndads #cw negative self talk

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whump-card · 6 months

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This Death That I Chose: Chapter 6

1171 words

CW: past abuse, implied past noncon, conditioning, self harm, pet whump, negative self-talk

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~~~

Tao and Marina raided Faye’s kitchen and made themselves chamomile tea; Marina’s idea, she was desperate to calm her nerves. They sat at the kitchen counter – meticulously clean, like all the spaces Faye occupied – and sipped their steaming mugs in silence.

Tao wouldn’t talk – couldn’t talk – because his head was full of the worst-case scenario. If the community voted to trade Karlo, Tao would have to get him out himself. Marina would have to come with, obviously, and maybe the three of them could make a run for Canada – but Karlo wouldn’t want to go, he would still believe he was putting Tao and his mother in danger. What would Tao have to do to force him to come with? How -

His thoughts were interrupted by the front door opening, and two sets of footsteps coming in through the waiting room. Becca and Faye were back. Marina and Tao exchanged a nervous glance, and rose to meet them.

The four of them convened at the bottom of the stairs. Becca wasted no time.

“We voted to protect him.”

All the air rushed out of Tao.

“Oh, thank God!”

Becca scoffed.

“It was fucking unanimous, Tao, did you really have that little faith in our people?”

“So what happens now?” asked Marina.

“Well, given that we learned from Lark – sorry, Karlo – that the Commander more than likely knows our location,” Becca’s eyes met Tao’s, “We’ve decided to give this place up and make our final push for Canada.”

They’d been nested in their current location for years, striking out and bringing home survivors and defectors. The little neighborhood had become their home, and Tao couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow at the prospect of leaving it. Making a final exodus northward had always been the end game, but the hope of finding more people to join them had kept them in place for a long time.

“So we need to start packing,” said Tao.

“We need to start packing yesterday,” Becca nodded, “We have no idea how much time we have before the Commander runs out of patience and brings down hell on us.”

“How long will it take to prepare?”

“Honestly?” exhaustion flickered across Becca’s face, “I have no idea. We’ve been here so long… It’s going to be hard for people to leave things behind.”

Tao recalled Marina’s home – her afghans, her books, her photos. He glanced at her, and found her looking fiercely determined.

“I can leave anything behind as long as I have Karlo,” she said.

“You gonna tell him?” Faye cut in, “He might make another run for it when he finds out.”

“I’m not lying to him,” Tao said immediately.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘another run for it?’” Marina asked, frowning.

Tao sucked in a breath and reluctantly explained Karlo’s escape attempt. He left out the young man’s reaction to hearing his mother’s name. Marina listened silently, tears welling up in her eyes.

“He really thinks he has to go back, doesn’t he?” she said when Tao was finished.

“Yeah,” said Tao, “He does.”

~~~

Lark needed to go home.

The longer he stayed with the rebels, the more he was being… corrupted. Lark was a perfect pet. He never spoke about his life before, he was so infallible he never even thought about it. That was how he had survived.

There had been four of them, in the beginning. Four young men, taken from different conquered towns.

There had been four soldiers with cattle prods, there to teach them what the Commander wanted from them.

It took four months, in a little shack on the outskirts of the Capital.

Asked to go home? Shock.

Didn’t obey? Shock.

Called out for their mother? Shock.

Talked amongst themselves? Shock.

Didn’t submit? Shock.

Cried? Shock. Or worse.

In one of the brief moments they were alone, in the dim and grime, Lark had held their hands and told them, “It’s easier if you just don’t think about home. Don’t think about your family. Don’t think about anything.”

They’d looked at him like he was crazy.

Even him.

In the end, Lark was the one who walked out of that building, while the others were carried. But Lark was under no illusions. Karlo was dead, too. Lark was a walking corpse. A beautiful, incorruptible corpse that obeyed every order of its master.

A master he was going to return to, one way or another.

Lark needed to get home before Karlo was resurrected.

As soon as Tao and Marina had left the room – no, as soon as their backs were turned – Lark had started shaking like a leaf. He couldn’t control it. He was supposed to be able to, but he just couldn’t, nor could he stop the sob that bubbled out of him.

I want my mom I want my mom I want -

NOT ALLOWED.

Crying wasn’t allowed. Thinking about her wasn’t allowed. Lark was breaking the Commander’s law, and the rules he had set up for himself in order to function. But there was no one here to punish him.

“What do you do when I’m not around, pet?”

Lark viciously bit his teeth into the pad of his right thumb, drawing blood and nearly separating a chunk of flesh. He froze there for a moment, panting, like an animal making sure its prey was dead. Then he licked away the blood and closed a fist around the thumb to apply pressure. He held the fist in front of him, and it was steady and still. No new tears ran down his cheeks. He breathed, deep and slow.

My name is Lark.

I am a good pet.

I do not cry.

I do not think.

I need to go home.

He sank back into the pillows, rolling the mantra around in his head. He descended into a hypnotic calm, separating himself from the world. Either the rebels would trade him back, or the Commander would come and get him. He was going home either way, and there was nothing more he could do to sway the outcome. He was just a pet, after all.

He was nearly asleep when there was a soft knock on the door. He opened his eyes as Tao entered. The man crossed halfway to the bed before stopping.

“The community voted,” Tao said simply, “We’re going to keep you safe.”

So you’ve chosen to die. Lark almost said it out loud, but caught himself. Good pets aren't opinionated like that. Good pets don’t talk the way he’d been talking to Tao.

I can’t fall out of practice.

(But Mom -)

NOT ALLOWED.

Lark could see it clearly now; he needed to convince these people that he was not worth keeping. They had no idea what he was; once they did, why would they want a disgusting sex toy around?

So he nodded. And he lifted his fist, slowly uncurling it, the dried blood sticky and the re-exposed wound stinging.

“Can you help me, sir?” he asked softly.

~~~

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Taglist: @angst-after-dark, @sunshiline-writes, @flowersarefreetherapy, @pigeonwhumps, @whump-em, @morning-star-whump, @thecyrulik

#whump #whump fic #whump writing #this death that i chose #pet whump #cw past abuse #cw past noncon #cw conditioning #cw self harm #cw negative self-talk

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