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#tw: torture
midnightlockhearth · 3 months
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WARNING: recounts of torture and and humiliation
OG vid by: @/Middleeasteye on tiktok
Link to OG video:https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSFMmJngo/
The Caption under the OG video:
"they brutally beat us up, we were denied food and water"
Elderly Palestinian man who was released after being detained by the isnotreal army, gives a horrifying testimony of torture and humiliation.
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statusexile · 6 months
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Task Force 141’s favorite torture method when they found out you work for Makarov is by tying your arms and legs wide open to the bedposts while you’re naked as they wrote derogatory words such as “cock whore”, “cum dumpster”, “gang rape me”, “free to use” all over your body. You will be nothing but their fuck toy, your body will be used at their own will. Your cunt and asshole will be so fucking sore and puffy after having to fuck them multiple times a day to the point it became numb.
Ghost and Price will be the most ruthless ones, they’ll fuck you like you’re a subhuman, torturing all your holes not only with their fucking thick cocks, but by using every single thing that they could fit inside you, making sure your holes are gaping and stretched wide open, solely for their amusement as you violently scream for their mercy.
While Soap and Gaz will physically torture you by choking, slapping and constantly using your mouth as a fleshlight. They love hearing you gag on their cocks while they face fuck your mouth. If you pass out, they’ll slap you over and over again until you wake up only to be used by them again.
Your body is all sticky from their cum, basically oozing with them from every single pore on your skin at this point. Your mind and body is constantly about to break from them constantly fucking and torturing you, while the room you’re held hostage in constantly blaring with metal music and blindingly bright lights for 24/7. You’re lucky if you get any water or food, most of the time their cum is your only food for days. But hey, you’re a strong girl, right? I’m sure you’ll keep up with their demands.
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diejager · 2 months
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The writing where reader died, what happens if they were revived as a wraith like Ghost? There's probs going to have a lot of fluff and a small angst here and there. But I mostly wanna read your writings!! It's cus' I can't get enough, and kept rereading it all the time
Cw: pain, death, turning, cannibalism, implied torture, implied blood and gore, angst, fluff, hunger, tell me if I missed any. We’re going to forget how you previously died, cuz @bluegiragi gave us more info about wraiths and I just love where the comic is going.
What a cruel joke, irony hitting him in the face the same way his abrupt shift hurt him, an apathetic slap to the face that left him bloody and in shock the way he left Roba on his dying breath. Simon didn’t know what was crueler, the knowledge that you were tortured and buried alive, left to die alone for the sins of his own making and the wrath of another, or that you were left to die a slow and excruciating death after being beaten half to death, expected to lose your resolve solely on the fact that you were a medic, and turned into the monster he was.
Neither your captor nor death had been merciful, much less the reaper, a collector of wandering souls and lost ghosts, waiting their turn to cross the river with a small token for the afterlife. Be it Hermes, the messenger and the carrier of souls, Thanatos the reaper and collector, Anubis - or Inpu, however people called him - the guide, Ankou the shadow, Sgàthach the warrior, or Freyja and Fólkvangr; you weren’t granted the soft embrace of a calm death, but the cruel rejection of it, forced back into life and abandoned by sweet sleep.
He remembered his own, the painful pull of his back, the crazed smoke that filled his mind with a thirst for blood and revenge, the crack and ugly break of his bode, reshaping his body and organs dyed dark, dying and pained. He remembered well the pain of it like it was yesterday, having to crawl out of the shallow grave on his own and discover the carnage he left behind, stained in his and Price’s blood. He was reborn.
And so were you, crying and sobbing, your skin scarred beyond thinking and mind in shambles of broken faith and abandoned affection. He knew first hand how it felt, the burn and agony of it, the hunger and ache that plagued you like an undying pestilence, darker than the one that ripped through Europe in the fourteenth century and more devastating than the Justinian’s. He’d been too late, too slow to help you through the first ripple of shock and fear once you’d quenched your thirst, staunching it like you would a wound. He let you fester in your sorrow and hunger, left you without a guide or caretaker until you ravaged the area, leaving only blood and rubble in your devastation. 
But he’s here now, picking you up from the mess you found yourself in, a storm of smoke and thick black that you hid yourself in, to hide the monster you had become. He might not be proud of who he’s become - much like you - but he grew into it, lived his life as one, and he would be here to help you through the process of it. Where he wished he had a helping hand, you would have his. He would help you with your hunger, the famine that grew the more you left it alone, filling your being with bodies he’d gather up for you to absorb. He would teach you how to control the smoke - the sinews of your being, the consistence of it forming your figure - and build from it, stopping yourself from phasing to and from it, staying as a physical manifestation of it rather than darkness itself. 
Where he felt lost and confused, alone and wishing for a swift end, you wouldn’t, he made sure to stay, to be the pillar of support for you whenever you crashed, his body covering yours to stop you from vanishing in a fit of tears. Where he spent time hating himself, demeaning the cannibalism he became, you wouldn’t, he’d rather send himself to hell than let you think you were the lowest of the low, a human eating another. And where he was cruel to himself when death had renounced him, you wouldn’t, he’d whisper the sweetest words, praises, compliments, affection and guidance, he would make sure you wouldn’t drown alone like he did years ago. He loved you too much to let that happen.
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months
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Omg I am in love with your writing, I want to eat it-
A humble request for a Soap Drabble-
In the aftermath of a mission where Reader is kidnapped and tortured for information (the 141 saved them) Reader seems like her usual sunshine self, like she wasn’t just beaten within an inch of her life. Some accident happens while everyone is hanging out that triggers a flashback. Reader feels like she has to escape the base facility where she’s being held and the 141 chases reader, not knowing that it’s making it worse-
Basically a PTSD episode that leaves reader going all Rambo and Soap calms her down- lots of Hurt/Comfort and hugs :)
—Find Me
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [You're finally back in One-Four-One's hands, but that doesn't mean you're saved. Johnny tracks you down after a violent episode.] ❞
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The worst part is that you don’t even remember most of it. By whatever coping mechanism that you’d been cursed with, all you can bring forward is snippets. The doctors tell you it’s a blessing in disguise, of course—if you remembered how they had broken you over, and over, and over again, you would be…unrecognizable. 
But not knowing and having this paranoia in the back of your skull was far worse than guessing where the new scars started and ended; how they got there in the first place. 
It was like everything was one second away from falling apart again. 
Sitting in the rec room on base, you may have managed to fool the therapists and pass through the medical evaluation, but you can’t, not for one minute, fool Johnny. 
It started with a casual comment.
“We don’t have to be here, y’know?” The Scot had said. “Let’s just go someplace a bit quieter, aye, Dearie? It’s gettin’ late out.”
You had sent him a side-eye, your arms crossed. It had been wrong to ignore the pound of your heart like that—to ignore how your skin was sweaty and your voice shook as you spoke above the laughing of fellow soldiers. 
But you had to keep the act up. Even with him. 
“It’s nothing, Soap,” you ease. “We’re all here to have a good time. I’m fine.”
Those cobalt blues were tight, worried. Every part of his face was tight with concern as his feet shuffled, elbow moving back to the table behind the two of you.
“You’re not actin’ right, Little Lady,” he mutters, his jaw clenching as he watches you closely. “There’s no shame in it—”
“Would you just quit it, Johnny,” you snap, looking over sharply. “God, I’m not gonna break apart like some weak bitch, okay?” 
He’s quick to clarify, hand moving up in a display you would use for a feral animal. “I never meant it like that.” 
Your head turns away, and you roll your eyes. Simon and Price watch closely from the corner of the room, their conversation from previous falling silent.
But you couldn’t have accounted for the way Gaz strolled past, or how the soldier was walking back over from the pool table, swinging his cue stick in some wide arch to mess around with his friends.
But you also couldn’t have accounted for the sudden flash you’d have to the breaking of bottles over your head—of glass being ripped out of your shredded flesh and thrown to the ground. 
Your body seizes up as Gaz’s cup shatters, and your eyes all at once go far away. 
Johnny’s shocked face had snapped to the scene in front of him, blinking quickly as he stood and was about to go get a broom.
“Best watch where you’re swingin’ that thing there, eh?” He says to the soldier who looks highly embarrassed, Gaz frowning down at the remnants.
“Oi!” Everyone’s eyes dart to Ghost’s outburst, but he’s not addressing anyone left in the room—the Lieutenant dashes out of the hallway, Price hot in his heels. 
Johnny turns back and you’re gone.
Racing away, your blood is hot and rabid, taking corners with record speed; the pounding feet behind you don’t help, the shouts. Every moment you try to get your head under control the sounds make it worse. 
You end up outside, lost in the trees as the branches slap your face and body—running with no destination, no thoughts. And you just keep going. Panting, your stomach is stuck in knots, and your aching legs shake until you fall over and heave into the grass; sobs breaking through. Your lungs can’t get air down.
You don’t know how long you were out there, you don’t know how long it took for Johnny to find you, but when he did you heard his quick call of your name—his desperate plea for you to breathe when he grappled for your shoulders. 
Your eyes stare blankly at him, gone to all else but your ringing ears.
Hands cup your cheeks. 
“Hey, it’s me, Bonnie,” he rubs along your flesh, petting your skin with his thumb. You’ve never seen his eyes so afraid before. “Hey now, hey. Come back to me, we’re both right here—just focus on me. You’re back home, then, aye? Back with me on Base. There’s nothin’ that’s going to happen to you long as I’m here. I made that promise, yeah? I intend to keep it.”
His voice is grounding for you—for your failing body as your addled mind tries to calm down. 
Johnny. 
You pull on that shred of remembrance of when he’d found you, beaten within an inch of your life. His tiny pupils, stuck in a sea of deep blue. His callouses holding you to him as he raggedly breathed into your hair, screaming for med-evac.
“That’s it, Dearie,” right here, right now, you sag forward. Widened eyes quiver as your lower face is pressed into his shoulder, Johnny’s hand hard on the back of your head. “That’s it—it’s just Johnny.” The man is shaking just like you are, even when your wheezed sobs make his chest tighten painfully. How your hands weakly grasp at his shirt in desperation; clawing for purchase. 
“It’ll always just be me.” Soap breathes, swallowing the saliva in his throat. “I’m gonna get you all the help you need….you bet on it. You’re going to be better, and I’m going to be with you through all of it.” 
The side of his face nuzzles into yours as you breathe in his scent, choking on the air but slowly starting to get it down.
“No one fights alone.” 
“Johnny,” you gasp.
“Shush, now,” he whispers, wrenching his eyes shut. “I’m here. Breathe. I’m here.”
“It hurts.” Your tears soak through his shirt, and his arms hold you tighter until he reminds himself to be gentle.
All he can do is try to hold back his own tears, his throat raw from his mad dash after you—he’d never run that fast in his life besides the moment he’d found you alive. 
“I know,” his voice cracks, rocking you back and forth like a child. “I know, m’sorry, Dearie. I’m so, so sorry.” 
“Don’t let go,” you plead. “Please don’t let go.”
“Never,” he growls. “Never in my life.” He says it with every ounce of goodness left in him.
“I’m never lettin’ you go ever again, aye? They’ll have to pry me off you.”
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marrow-and-bone · 4 months
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the moment's already passed
a q!Quackity comic drawn for hourly comic day 2024 ( also on AO3 )
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celluloidbroomcloset · 5 months
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You ever think about how Ed and Stede not only have matching burn marks on their chests, but also matching stab wounds?
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candycandy00 · 8 months
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Human - A Gojo x Reader Fanfic
You’re a human-shaped cat girl curse in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Part 2
Notes: I got the idea for this after watching the latest episode and loving how they used horror movie music when Gojo was stalking Jogo. So this has horror elements.
Smut. 18+. VERY DARK FIC! Noncon/Rape! Torture! Pain! Gojo being a sadistic freak! Don’t read this if any of those things bother you! Reader doesn’t die but she goes through hell. You’ve been warned!
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You had always loved humans. You loved the way they laughed, the way they moved, the way they loved each other so fiercely. From the moment you came into being, you longed to be human. 
You were a curse, and you were supposed to hate humans, to kill them. But you’d never harmed one in your lifetime. It was a blessing that you looked like them. The only visible difference was that you had furry cat ears and a long cat tail. In recent years you noticed young humans wearing fake cat ears as fashion accessories, and you loved it. Mainly because it meant you could walk among them and those that could see you wouldn’t even blink upon seeing your ears. 
You didn’t even need the ears to hear. You had a set of “human ears” as well, which you got your auditory information from. 
Over the past few months, you had even made friends with a couple of human girls who attended a college in the city. You looked around the same age as them, so you blended in well. 
This year, for Halloween, they invited you to come with them to Shibuya for a huge party in the streets. You were reluctant to go to big public places with them, for fear that they would introduce you to someone who couldn’t see you. But this Halloween party sounded so fun! And you could let your tail show and everyone would assume it was part of your costume. 
Your friends helped you pick out a dress to wear. It was black, to match your ears, slinky, with a slit up the side and thin straps at your shoulders. Your friends called it “sexy” and said it complimented your figure. 
On Halloween night, the evening had started out great, but of course it all went to hell pretty quickly. You saw the veil coming down, tried to hurry your friends along to escape without revealing what you knew, what you were, but it was too late. Your friends were sucked down into the subway station, and though you checked and found that you could leave the barrier if you wanted, you couldn’t abandon them. 
So you traveled down to where they were. You spotted some curses along the way but they ignored you, perhaps assuming you were on their side. You found your two friends standing in a corner, their hands clasped together in fear. When they saw you, relief broke out across their faces and they pulled you into an embrace. You didn’t know what was going on, but you had to protect them. 
It wasn’t long before a sorcerer showed up. You saw him hovering above the crowd like a god. He was tall, with snow white hair and a blindfold over his eyes. Even in a sea of humans dressed in outlandish costumes, he would have stuck out even if he were walking among them. There was something imposing about him. Something frightening. 
Then the curses came, and a fight broke out. Or more accurately, a massacre. The curses were killing humans to distract and frazzle the sorcerer, and you quickly ushered your friends to a far corner, as far away from the carnage as possible. You told them to remain there and keep their heads down while you went to check the situation. They didn’t want you to go, they were afraid for you, but you had to find out what was happening. 
When you got a little closer to the train tracks, you saw the sorcerer standing above everyone else, and watched him slowly pull his blindfold down. You saw the most haunting, beautiful, glowing eyes you’d ever seen. The sight took your breath away. And then, the real massacre began. 
The sorcerer dove in among the curses, ripping them apart, laughing with sadistic glee, eyes wild and crazed, mouth open in a terrifying smile. He was beautiful. He was monstrous. He was a nightmare come to life. 
What scared you most of all was how much he enjoyed it. This wasn’t a job for him, a duty. It was pure, unfiltered pleasure. He loved it. He loved the way their bodies ripped at the seams, the way their blood flowed and splashed, the cries of terror and pain. 
You retreated back to your friends, planning to shield them if anything went wrong. The action quickly died down. Whatever plan the curses had for the sorcerer failed. He’d slaughtered them all. You sensed the barrier come down, and you knew your friends would be safe. You also knew you had to flee. The sorcerer probably sensed you at some point, and your fear was that he would mistake you as being with the ones he’d killed, the ones who’d tried to kill him. 
When you had the chance, you took off, running up the subway tunnel, into the darkness, shedding your high heeled human shoes as you went. You found a small maintenance room along the way and went inside. It was dark and empty, and there was nothing but a table, desk, chair, and a couple of lockers in the room. You squeezed into one of the lockers and dampened your cursed energy as low as possible, then waited. If enough time passed, you would feel safe in assuming the sorcerer hadn’t noticed you or at least hadn’t considered you worth pursuing. 
You hid there, holding your breath, trying not to move an inch. But then you heard the door open, and your heart stopped. You listened as heavy footsteps walked into the room. You covered your mouth with your hand as tears trickled down your face. You just saw what this man could do to curses, what he enjoyed doing to curses. You didn’t stand a chance. 
The door to your locker flung open, and you were met with the most horrifying, unhinged grin you’d ever seen, wild, shimmering blue eyes boring into you. 
“There you are!” His voice was deep, with a distinctly gleeful tone. 
He grabbed a handful of your hair and tore you from the locker. “I’m not with those other curses,” you were crying, wanting to make that clear as soon as possible, “I don’t even know them!”
The sorcerer pulled your face closer to his and sneered at you. “So you just happened to be in the same place at the same time?”
You realized how bad it looked. “Please wait! I’ve never hurt humans! I love humans!”
He laughed then. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that before.”
Your whole body was trembling with fright, your face wet with tears. You were pulled against him, and you felt a bulge through his pants. Killing the curses had left him aroused. He really was a sadist! His face had turned cold and emotionless. You didn’t know which expression was more terrifying. 
You tried to pull away from him, and his hand slipped from your hair. He grabbed at one of your ears, and it sent a jolt of sensation through you. 
Your ears were incredibly sensitive to both pleasure and pain. When they were touched, it was almost as intense as as being touched between your legs. As his fingers closed over your ear, a moan escaped you. 
He froze. You clamped your hand over your mouth. You glanced up at his face, and you saw a flicker of surprise. He gave your ear a light squeeze, as if to experiment. Your entire body jerked, and your hand did nothing to contain another humiliating sound coming from your mouth. Your breaths became quicker. You squirmed and clamped your thighs together, trying to block out the pleasure emanating from your ear. 
You heard his voice say, “Seriously?” You glanced up and saw a wicked grin on his face, a strange look in those glimmering eyes. His thumb stroked over your ear, softly, and you couldn’t hold back your mewling cries. 
His eyes shifted down to your chest, as if just noticing your shape, the way your breasts heaved beneath the thin fabric of your dress, the way your cleavage nearly spilled out of the low neckline. His free hand slid one narrow strap down your shoulder, exposing one breast, making you whimper in shame. Then he was roughly grabbing the rounded flesh. 
He chuckled. “Why the fuck does a curse have a body like this?”
Your hands were frozen at your sides. You were too afraid to move. You had no choice but to let him molest you as he kept stroking your ear. He seemed to enjoy your distress, that violent, bloodthirsty look still in his eyes. But there was something else there, something that scared you even more. Lust. 
The hand groping your chest moved down, then slid under the slit in your dress, shoving itself between your trembling thighs. He laughed again. “I guess curses don’t wear panties,” he said, his fingers opening your folds and rubbing the small, sensitive nub inside. 
Your body jolted again, pleasure rippling through you. You tried to pull away again, despite your fear, but his hand left your ear and grabbed hold of your tail. 
You screamed. Your tail was more sensitive than your ears, and the harshness of his hand coiling your tail around it and squeezing hard made you see stars. He loosened his grip slightly, now rubbing your tail in a more sensual motion. You could feel the pleasure building again, with his hands stroking both your tail and your clit. You tried to fight it, tried to contain your pitiful moans, tried not to look at those lovely, eerie eyes that were watching your face. But you had always been a weak curse, in many ways. 
“Ahhhhh!”
The cry of ecstasy broke free from your lips, and your body spasmed as you collapsed. His hands held you up, still stroking your quivering flesh and your shaking tail, even as you panted and leaned your head over onto his chest in exhaustion. 
You heard him laugh. “I’ve never seen a curse cum before,” he was saying, his voice so close it sent chills down your spine. “Thanks for the show, but the fun’s over now.”
Fun? What part of this was fun? But within seconds you realized the humiliation you just suffered was fun compared to what he planned to do with you. His hand tightened suddenly on your tail, and just as suddenly, he ripped it off. 
Blood sprayed behind you. The pain was blinding, unimaginable, unbearable. You began to fall forward, but he caught you by your hair, holding you upright. You couldn’t even scream, your mouth opening and closing as you gasped for air. 
“Guess I found your weak point,” he said in a light hearted tone. 
When you finally regained your voice, after your body began slowly regenerating your tail, you pleaded with him. 
“Please let me go! I’m scared!”
He used your hair to turn your head so that you faced him. “And you think all those humans you guys murdered weren’t scared?”
“I didn’t kill anyone! I told you, I love humans!”
His grin faded. “Why would a curse love humans?”
You whimpered as his grip on your hair tightened. He reached up his other hand and roughly grabbed an ear, making you jump and cry out. “Because I want to be human,” you finally said, shuddering with sobs. 
He laughed again, a cruel laugh that made you hate him as much as you feared him. “That’s hilarious,” he said, then suddenly he grabbed a hold of your dress and completely ripped it from your body. You yelled out in surprise, then tried to cover yourself. He pulled your hands away from your body and shoved you onto the metal table in the middle of the room. 
You were on your back, completely bare, the gaping wound where your tail once was trying to close around the tiny nub you’d regenerated. You kicked wildly, thrashing about to try to keep him from climbing on top of you, but it was no use. He was immeasurably stronger than you. He straddled you, his knees on either side of your body. He looked down at you with a mixture of desire and disgust. 
Then, he unbuckled his belt and opened his pants. You were shaking your head before he even pulled out his massive cock, still rock hard from his earlier rampage. “Please, no…” 
“Shut up,” he told you, scooting back on the table to give himself enough room to shove your legs apart. “Stop trying to act human. It’s grossing me out.”
So you laid there, crying and shaking, as he took you. His thrusts were violent, satisfying his lust for your body as well as his lust for hurting curses. He was destroying you. That’s what it felt like. His hands were on your breasts, squeezing far too hard, then on your hips, gripping them with bruising fingers, then finally on your ears. 
Surprisingly, his touch there started out gentle. He caressed them softly with his fingers, and you couldn’t resist the pleasure it caused. You let out little whimpering moans and shivered under his ministrations. He grinned down at you, seeming amused by the fact that he could make you feel this way even as he raped you. 
After a few minutes of mortifying pleasure that left your heart and body confused, when you were on the edge of another orgasm, he suddenly gripped one of your ears tightly, and pulled. You cried out in pain, looking up at him with tear filled eyes. “Please, don’t!”
His face shifted. His grin was maniacal, his eyes deranged, as he oh so slowly pulled your hyper sensitive ear from your head. You screamed, clawing at him then nearly blacking out from the pain. All the while, he was still fucking you. 
One of his hands moved to your other ear, stroking it again in an almost loving fashion. You didn’t have the strength to fight or resist. You could only allow the totally conflicting sensations to wash over you in waves. The white hot pain of your ripped off ear and his cock tearing through you, and the mind melting pleasure of his soft fingers on your remaining ear. 
Eventually he leaned forward, his fully clothed body pressing against your nude one, and pressed his lips to your ear. He ran his tongue over it, gently, and it felt like your entire body was being stimulated. You came with a loud, whining moan, your back arching involuntarily against him. When you looked up, he was smiling down at you, not the frightening grin he’d been wearing, but a strangely kind one. In your hazy, half conscious state, you thought he looked like an angel. 
Then, he ripped your other ear off. 
Your eyes widened, your mouth opening in a soundless scream, your torn body clenching around him. And that’s when you felt his warm cum shooting deeply inside you. “You’ll never be human,” he whispered as he filled you with his seed. 
He pulled out and got off the table, zipping his pants and fixing his belt. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at you. The anger and the bloodlust were gone from his eyes, he’d fucked it all into you and left it there. As if he had come down from a high, he stood quietly for a moment, staring at your wrecked body. He opened his mouth to say something, but the door to the room burst open, cutting him off. 
Your two friends ran inside, one of them clutching your discarded shoes. They must have seen them in the tunnel and come looking for you. Even after all the blood and violence they’d seen tonight, they still walked down a dark, scary tunnel to find you! 
The looks on their faces were horrific. They ran past the sorcerer and to your side, one of them yanking off her jacket to cover you with it. Then they rounded on him. 
“You sick fuck! What did you do to her?!”
“Rapist! Monster!”
They were screaming, tears on their own faces. You tried to sit up, to tell them to run away. Sorcerers didn’t attack humans as a general rule, but this one was such a terror that you didn’t know what he would do to two human girls who had interrupted his fun. 
He looked at them with bewilderment on his face. He gestured toward you and said, “She’s… your friend?”
“Of course she is,” one of them cried. She was digging around in her purse for something, then pulled out a small pink canister. “Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll mace you in the fucking face!”
You were sitting up on the table, with effort. Everything hurt. “Get behind me,” you told them. 
“No,” the one holding the mace said, “you’re always protecting us! You think we didn’t notice?”
The other girl was standing firmly in between you and the sorcerer. “We’ll protect you this time!”
He looked at them, at the can of mace trembling in the girl’s hand. They were scared, but they refused to back down. 
Several different emotions seemed to pass over his face. Confusion, realization, shock, horror… guilt? Was he just now realizing that he’d brutalized an innocent creature? Had he really thought you deserved whatever punishment he dished out because he assumed you’d killed humans? He didn’t say anything, he simply looked at you with a pained expression, and then he was gone, so fast none of you saw him leave. 
Your friends turned to you. “Let’s get you home. Do you need a hospital, or can you heal yourself?”
You blinked at them. Your ears were already growing back. “How did you know I can heal?”
They glanced at each other. “We’ve known you were different for a while now. We don’t know exactly how you’re different, but we think it’s amazing!”
You pulled them both into a hug, tears in your eyes. They were the silver lining in your life. They made you feel human, and that sadistic sorcerer could never take that from you. 
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accio-victuuri · 3 months
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wang yibo as wei ruolai @ war of faith 🔥
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copypastus · 8 months
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Tamsand timeline as told in ACOLAR.
Using the free day of @officialrhysandweek to gush about my favourite piece of ACOTAR fan content out there.
@ashintheairlikesnow can you tell I really liked your fic? I REALLY liked your fic.
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vagrantcallisto · 7 months
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"This fanfic is disgusting!"
Bitch, nobody Clockwork Orange'd you into reading it.
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leathfaic · 1 year
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soap gets captured on a mission and his captors try to get information out of him. he's a resilient little asshole though and they get nowhere. one of them is a smart type, he notices how soap practically bounces of his environment, constantly hyper aware.
so they stick him into a sensory deprivation tank for hours on end. and while he's still not spilling anything it's clear that it works. that it's breaking him. so they keep him in there tank locked, nothing to occupy his desperate brain but his own screaming and crying.
eventually the lid opens again but this time it's ghost and price, ready to save him, the compound behind them a fucking massacre. and they find soap, voice beyond hoarse and this feral look in his eyes.
and ghost carries him out because he's hurt. his heart breaking the whole time as johnny just begs him over and over to keep talking because he can't stand the silence or the sound of his own voice anymore. ghost keeps talking about everything and nothing, about how much he loves him, about the terrible things he did to the people that held soap captive. how they are all dead and will never hurt him again. in the end out of desperation he turns back to bad jokes and stupid army humour.
that's finally when johnny relaxes at least incrementally. stops begging him and just listens.
it takes weeks for soap to be able to return, probably wouldn't have been cleared at all if ghost hadn't made some strategic threats. but being at base, being busy, having input is the only thing that really brings soap back in the end. he still can't sleep in dark and silent rooms. but ghost is there, keeps the lights on, keeps finding white noise that helps him fall asleep, is a warm body next to him.
and ghost knows all this so well. had to fight his way out of the dark box that held him, no sensory input but the stench of death and maggots crawling on his skin.
and he wishes dearly he could have done worse things to the people who did this. who nearly broke his johnny but surely broke ghost's heart having to watch his lover experience a horror that is so familiar to him.
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A Pair Made in The Pits
Falling Behind Pt. 3- TFP Megatron x Reader
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Part 1, Part 2
A/n: Thank you all, once again for your patience and understanding on the time it took for this chapter's release. It was hard to find time to write between multiple ER visits and the passing of my dog, but I was finally able to finish it up! I hope you all enjoy, and I would love to hear your thoughts. WC: 7099
And thank you to @callsign-relic for allowing me to commission her beautiful work for my story's cover art! You always make amazing pieces!
Warnings: Torture, cursing, Starscream and Megatron being a dick, and deprecation. If I've missed anything, please let me know
Y/n wasn’t sure as to how one of the Autobots- probably Optimus- had returned her car to her driveway, but she wasn’t complaining. She did, however, inwardly groan over the fact she forgot to turn off her 6am alarm after all of yesterday’s excitement, especially after the awful sleep she had. Y/n’s mind kept her up all night, the voices of anxiety now practically screaming that something was wrong- that something wrong was done. And it wasn’t until she had finally gotten to sleep did it feel that seconds later her alarm was blaring in her ear. 
Getting up, against the wants of her body, Y/n slowly makes her way to her kitchen, debating whether or not she wants coffee or tea to start her morning. Looking in her fridge and seeing a lack of milk, the decision is easily made and she fills her kettle with water and begins preparing the steeper and getting the oolong out of the cabinet. However, before being able to take the first sip, the sound of the rumbling and then resounding hiss of a semi coming to a stop. Taking a look outside her living room window, there sits Optimus, waiting for Y/n to come outside, presumably to go back to the base.
“Shit.” Y/n groans, rubbing the bridge of her nose, wondering if the kids are also being ushered out of the house this early. 
Pouring her tea into a travel tumbler, Y/n scurries around her house to take a quick shower and get changed into a black blouse tucked into a midi, and finishing it off with a pair of booties. She applies some makeup and practically runs out the door, grabbing a random book on the way. 
“... Good morning, Optimus.” The passenger side door pops open and Y/n quickly climbs in and makes herself comfortable. The woman gives an airy laugh while fiddling with her hair, “I didn’t expect you so soon, I had to rush around to get ready.”
“Good morning, Y/n. I apologize- I did not mean to rush you, though it may be best to get back to the base sooner than later.” The cab hums with his response- even if Y/n hadn’t been inside, she was sure she would have felt the baritone vibrations nonetheless. 
The drive back was long and quiet, much like last night. Taking a sip of her tea, Y/n finally looks down at the book, and it takes all of her restraint not to spit it out onto his dashboard. What looks back up at Y/n is a sweaty, shirtless cowboy and the title ‘Ride into My Heart Like a Stallion’. A gag gift given to them by their friend half-way across the country, of which Y/n never intended to touch, let alone read. Y/n couldn’t help but truly consider the pros and cons on whether or not she could just chuck the book, but she knew it would drag up more questions if she just threw the book out the window, so she simply crossed her arms over it and hoped that no one would ask her about it throughout the day. 
“Y/n?”
Snapped out of her thoughts, Y/n looks over to the head unit of the dash, not entirely sure where to look before responding, “Sorry, it seems I was lost in my own thoughts.”
“I was asking if you needed to stop anywhere before heading back to base? We do not have much for humans at this moment.”
“Oh um, no, I’m alright. I have my tea and a book, and I’m sure the children will be able to keep themselves occupied as well. I’m not completely familiar with the boys, but Miko will most assuredly be fine; give that girl a pencil, paper, and something of interest, she’ll be kept busy for a while.” Y/n laughs to herself for a moment, though a worried expression passes over her face, “She’s a creative girl, but I worry about her being lonely. Her host parents aren’t used to her, and she doesn’t really have any friends at the school. I think, despite the rather strange circumstances, that perhaps being with you all may be good for her.”
“You seem to care for them well. Do you have sparklings of your own?’
“Sparkl- oh, Children? No no no. I don’t have any- um- sparklings. Closest thing I hope to get to that is Miko. I haven’t figured out my own grievances in this world, and it wouldn’t feel right to bring life into a world where your own quotemate may be a cruel joke.”
“A quotemate?”
Y/n takes a deep breath through her nose and casts her eyes to the ceiling of Optimus’ cab, trying to come up with a succinct explanation to the complex system that not even humanity has completely figured out, “Well, a quotemate is someone you are connected to. In the simplest of terms, your quotemate is the person who is supposed to protect, love, and stand beside you. And the way you find them is a quote that appears on one of your wrists- hence, ‘quotemate’. There’s a few more details, but that’s the gist of it.”
“We had a similar- but not very common- phenomenon on Cybertron, however, we call our fated ones ‘sparkmates’.”
“It’s a much prettier word than our species’. Why sparkmates?”
“Your kind call them hearts; we call it a Spark. It contains our life force and our memories. And in the case of the ones in which we are destined, they are our other half and thus hold the other half of our spark. Those of our kind who have a sparkmate were encouraged and expected to cherish and hold them dear.” Optimus’ cab is silent for a moment for a moment, “Though, after the start of the war, people began dreading hearing the words engraved on their frame, fearing their other half would be on the other side of the battlefield.”
“...Do you have a sparkmate, Optimus?” Another hum runs through the cab, before turning into the slightest chuckle.
“I do. He’s not the easiest mech to get along with, but I would never have made it as long as I have without him.” The bot’s facial feature may not be present, but Y/n can easily imagine the fond, endearing smile that would have otherwise found itself on the large mech’s lips. “I will be forever grateful for Ratchet’s undying support.”
“Ratchet?!” Once the statement sets in, Y/n’s head whips from the ceiling of the cab to the center dashboard at the revelation.
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, I haven’t spent much time around Ratchet, but he’s not the most- how do I put this- welcoming?”
“I will admit Ratchet is wary about the involvement of you and the children, but he will not cause you harm.”
“OH! Oh no- I- I didn’t mean to- to imply that he- I know Ratchet wouldn’t hurt the children! He just visibly doesn’t seem to like us.” Waving her hands in denial, Y/n scrambles to fix the miswording of her statement, but it doesn’t seem Optimus was too worried about the misunderstanding.
“Give Ratchet time, he will adjust. I have no doubt you both will get along with time.”
“You’re right- after all, we all will be spending much more time with each other. I look forward to getting to know all of you.” She smiles, glad to know Optimus, and likely the rest of them will take good care of the kids and herself. Maybe she would be able to pick Ratchet’s mind at some point for information about the anatomy or history of the Cybertron people.
*       *       *       *       *       *
“WHAT WAS THAT?!” This is not what the young woman had hoped would be, quite literally, crawling around the base, but she couldn’t peel her eyes away from the thing that Ratchet had just squashed, “I hope to hell and back that is not what you people consider some kind of bug!”
“No, Y/n. I’m afraid this may be the effects of dark energon.” Though Optimus’ voice is normally quite dark, Y/n could easily pick up on the deep worry that whatever this ‘dark energon’ brings, means nothing good will come of its arrival in the base. “ Seeing as it has some of the residue Arcee found on Cliffjumper, it would stand to reason that it was what brought both your equipment to life and Cliffjumper back from the dead.”
“It would answer the question as to why Cliffjumper’s life signal came back online, but dark energon, Optimus? It’s such a scarce material- it’s virtually nonexistent. Why would it be on this rubbish planet?”
“May I interject?” Both bots turn their attention to the woman they had evidently forgotten was there- one much more open to the interruption than the other. “Um- may I ask what energon is? I thought you said your people’s Allspark was made of it, so why would it attack Ratchet? ”
At the question, Ratchet scoffs and begins running diagnostics on the squished piece of equipment that previously housed some of this energon stuff. His blatant display of annoyance was no less irritating than it was yesterday, but not only did Y/n not want to start some sort of argument with Optimus’ sparkmate, it also wouldn’t get them anywhere, so she would refrain from mouthing off to the condescending mech. At some point, she was going to have to have a one on one conversation with Ratchet about speech behavior and ways to go about explaining things without making the rest of the room feel as if they’re a massive inconvenience, but now was not the time- no matter how tempting it was to tell him to shove his opinions up his tailpipe. 
“Energon is the lifesource of our people. Dark energon is something that can give life-” Optimus gestures towards the mangled metal, “- but the cost is great. Not much is known about it, as Ratchet stated- dark energon is a rare commodity, but it is not something to underestimate, hence why I believe Megatron is the reason why it has found its way to this planet’s surface.”
Both Y/n and Ratchet look at Optimus, almost in synch, “But why?”
“To conquer this planet by raising an army of the undead.”
“Where would he find that many Cybertronian dead, Optimus? It’s not like Megatron is going to just stumble on a burial ground on this planet.” At least the sass Ratchet displays isn’t always just directed at any human- his leader isn’t even exempt from the proverbial lashings of the team’s medic, though Y/n supposes that may have something to do with them being connected.
Before Optimus could answer, his thoughts are interrupted by the sounds of the rest of the Autobots’ alt-modes. Upon stopping, each kid hops out of their respective guardian, having obviously come from some kind of fun. Looking at her phone, Y/n realizes that it's still a little early in the day, so she is a tad surprised they woke up this early on a Saturday, but she’s glad to see all of them having fun and maybe even bonding with their new companions. Seeing Bulkhead awkwardly handing Miko her electric guitar, she already has a feeling the girl will be putting on at least one show while they are at the base, knowing the acoustics are much too tempting for the girl to not play at least one song. 
“Autobots, remain here. Ratchet and I will be outside of communications range for some time, so I’m putting you in charge.” Optimus give his orders 
“Optimus, with all due respect, playing bodyguard is one thing, babysitting is another.” The sight of Jack scoffing and rolling his eyes at her wording is easy to see- any kid his age wouldn’t like the idea of being babysat, even if it was by an alien robot. The femme crosses her arms before gesturing towards the medic, “Besides, Ratchet hasn’t been in the field since the war.”
“My pistons may be rusty, but my hearing is as sharp as ever!” Ratchet’s call from his computer forces a laugh barely covered by a cough from Y/n, which she quickly mouths a ‘sorry’ when he shoots her a look. 
“For the moment, it is only reconnaissance.” Optimus tries to assure the smaller bot, but both Arcee and Y/n could smell the bullshit from a mile away.
“Then why do I hear an edge in your voice?” 
At her continued questioning, Optimus pauses and furrows his brows, “Arcee, much has changed in the past 24 hours. We must all learn to adapt.” Before she could get another word out, he turns to Ratchet, “Ratchet, bridge us out.”
And with just a few steps, they were gone.
“Okay chief, so, uh, what’s on the activity list?” Jack looks up to his mechanical guardian only to be met with a scowl.
“If I’m not mistaken, Jack, you should have some schoolwork to do. Why don’t we give them a break from whatever activities they treated you to this morning?” Y/n smiles at the kids, trying to give the Autobots a needed time off from their newly appointed roles as guardians. “Miko, you can practice some of your guitar and then start on some of your work, and Raf, I’m not sure of your schoolwork load, but I suggest you start on any work you may have.”
“Yes ma’am.” All three kids say, some more begrudgingly than others, all while setting up for whatever they are to get done.
“Good, I’m going on Patrol. Bee, you’re with me.” Arcee makes her way to the tunnel, ready to go out.
“But Optimus told us to stay here.” Bulkhead brought up the leader’s orders before almost immediately being shot down. 
“When Optimus puts you in charge, you can call the shots.” With that, both Arcee and Bee transform and are down in the tunnel in seconds, leaving the kids, Y/n, and Bulkhead left.
“So, uh, what’s on the activities list?” Bulk turns, seeing Miko plugging in her guitar to the amp, the feedback forcing everyone to cover their ears.
“Band practice, anyone?” After a moment of silence, she turns to the younger boy, “Come on, Raf. You play anything?”
“Um… Keyboard?”
“Laptop and samples-”
Y/n smiles and shakes her head, glad to see the kids are getting along before opening her book and tea thermos, taking a seat near Ratchet’s computer stand so as to not get in the kids’ way. She never planned on reading this kookie book her friend sent her, but it was either the book or be subjected to joining Miko’s makeshift band after an already hectic week.
“Y/n, are you joining?”
“Nah, I’m good with just listening, Miko. You know I prefer listening to you play.” Shooting the girl a smile and thumbs up, she returns to the downright awful writing of this cowboy love story. Y/n has to go to the bookstore at some point to send an equally bad book. Maybe a silly alien romance book- forbidden love. They’ll be rolling on the floor at the concept. 
As the woman chuckles to herself, the familiar green lights from yesterday start blaring, letting them know Agent Fowler had returned. Bulkhead rushed the kids to hide behind his pedes and Y/n didn’t want to risk being seen running over, so she kept her spot under Ratchet’s computer and motioned to the kids to stay quiet just as the elevator door opened.
“Prime? Prime!” Y/n couldn’t see the man, but she could tell that he must still be on the platform, since she could no longer hear his footsteps. Just like yesterday, he did not sound happy.
“Agent Fowler, uh, he’s not here. Nobody’s here! … except me, of course.” The green bot chuckles awkwardly, and Y/n silently groans- this mech is going to get them all caught if his nerves take over. 
“Well, where is he? Wait, let me guess-” as Fowler rants and raves he must have started to move because Bulkhead begins taking steps to keep the kids out of sight. However, his movements and the cable to Miko’s guitar don’t seem to be mixing well, from the way Y/n sees Miko nearly fall, only for the boys to catch her. But the slight fall was enough for the guitar to send sound through the amp, she just hopes that it wasn’t enough to break the man from his tirade.
“Since when are you bots electric?” Fowler questions and Y/n is pleading for whatever deity that may be listening to grant Bulkhead the ability to come up with some kind of lie, but the kids beat him to it.
“Hi. We’re… interns! Earning extra credit in auto shop.” Jack awkwardly smiles, hoping his lie is bought.
“Alright. Let’s move. I’m taking all three of you into federal custody.” Hearing his footfalls on the metal stairs, Y/n makes her way over, picking up a piece of the squashed robot from earlier that Ratchet must have missed. 
“Over my dead body.” She holds up the metal piece like a makeshift bat, more than ready to take a swing.
“Woah there. By the stripes of Uncle Sam’s shorts, ma’am, put the weapon down. I’m just going to take you and these kids to-” Taking a step back, Agent Fowler puts his hands up to show he didn’t mean any harm, only to be cut off by the woman again.
“Nowhere. You are taking these kids nowhere. Optimus has promised protection for these kids and like hell will I allow some random ass man, trusted government agent or not, to touch a hair on these kids’ heads, let alone take them anywhere.” Y/n takes a look behind her, and in seeing the kids looking between Y/n and Fowler apprehensively, she drops the metal to her side, not letting go in case something goes awry, “… I will go with you, if it will get you to leave.”
“What?!” Miko shrieks, coming to hold onto the sleeve of Y/n’s blouse, making her briefly glance back before bringing her attention back to Agent Fowler, ”You can’t go with him! He-”
“Bulkhead, get Miko.”
“Uh I don’t-”
“Get her now, Bulkhead. She is your ward, act like it.” She shoots the metal giant a glare, watching as he finally picks the girl up, not that she went peacefully.
“No! Put me down, Bulk!” Miko thrashes in his hold as Y/n walks towards Fowler.
“Let’s go have a conversation with whomever your boss is, shall we? I’m sure I can convince them that leaving these children in Optimus’ care is the best course of action.” She grins at the man as she passes him on the way to the elevator, a grin that holds a level of malice that makes Fowler nearly let the woman just stay instead of getting in the confined space of his helicopter.
But only nearly.
“And I know that my superiors will have all of you in custody.” He grabs her elbow and finishes leading her up the steps and into the elevator. Both adults could hear Miko screeching in Bulk’s grasp, threats and complaints that turned to pleading the closer Y/n got to that elevator. Y/n didn’t say anything. She didn’t look back. But with every step she took, her heart squeezed with each scream from the girl. It isn’t until they get onto the elevator and the doors close that the tension from her shoulders ease and the breath escapes her. 
“Is that so? I’d say if your superiors are as weak-willed as you, I’ll be back before it’s time for the kids to be back home.” She doesn’t bother looking over at the man, not even as he mumbles something about respect and ‘women and alien robots being the problem with his blood pressure’. 
Before long, the elevator comes to a creaky stop and the doors open to reveal the orange hue of the rock the base is hidden under and a view that, under different circumstances, would be quite gorgeous, especially with the breeze taking away from the baking early fall sun. A few feet away lies the helicopter Agent Fowler presumably arrived in earlier. The reality of the past ten minutes was setting in with each step they took towards the vehicle and while Y/n absolutely would have stood up for those kids again in a heartbeat, maybe she wouldn’t have given herself as collateral quite as quickly. 
“Get comfortable, it’s gonna be a long 5 hour flight.” Tired of his hold on her arm, Y/n pulls herself away before scrambling up into the body of the helicopter, grimacing at her lack of grace. 
“I don’t suppose you’ll be providing in-flight snacks. After all, you seem to have such star spangled hosting skills.” She adjusts herself in the passenger seat, and never in her wildest days would she ever thought she would hope and pray for a vehicle to turn into a giant robot and prevent her from being sent to a government facility, but here she sits- hoping for just that.
“Are you going to be pushing my buttons this entire flight, or will I have an ounce of peace on the way to the Pentagon?” Fowler pulls himself up, lacking his own grace and nearly falling face first into his seat, forcing a snort to come from Y/n.
“Well, you’re more than welcome to send me back to the base.” The suggestion brings out a laugh of Fowler’s own, no other answer needed nor given. Starting up the chopper, he glances over to ensure the straps were done properly before handing a set of headphones to Y/n, before the sound of the blades becomes too loud.
Finally, the vehicle lifts off the ground and the flight to Washington D.C. begins, making Y/n wonder if she could properly time being over one of the larger ‘islands’ of sandstone littering the Nevada desert to jump out of the copter, but deigns it too risky to attempt. While she’s turning over possible solutions in her head, Fowler rings his boss, “Sir, Agent Fowler. We have a situation. I’m en route from the autobot base. I’ll brief you in person.”
Choosing to save her breath, Y/n continues looking out the window of her side of the vehicle, noting the sun ebbing its way closer to being at its highest point. That was one thing she hated about this area, while she found the landscape to be gorgeous, it quickly became boring seeing the exact same hues of orange, yellow, brown, and the occasional reds. It couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes after Fowler informed his boss of his location that the sonar built into the dashboard started beeping with an icon flashing on the screen, getting closer to the center of the sonar’s radius. 
“I am begging you to tell me that is either a big bird or a friend.”
“What in Uncle Sam’s beard-” Looking up from the dashboard, Y/n sees some kind of drone flying right at them and lets out a shout, pushing the steering gear to the side with her foot before the thing coming their way. Luckily, Fowler snaps out of his shock quickly enough to grab the steering before the both of you could go crashing into the canyon side. 
“Watch it!” 
“You watch the fucking drone!” And as if her luck wasn't bad enough, in the next moment, the helicopter jostles, claws of whatever had attacked them now sinking into the roof of the helicopter's cab. Moving in her seat, Y/n looks up to the ceiling and shrieks upon seeing the sharp talons that easily make up the length of her face stuck in the metal above her, forcing the agent to cover his ears. 
With a harsh yank from above, the copter jerks in response and the last thing Y/n remembers is the feeling of the cold, hard glass making a sharp impact with the back of her head, before everything went dark.
*       *       *       *       *       *
The feeling of weightlessness while simultaneously feeling as if something is pulling you down by your ankles is something Y/n can confidently say she's never felt before. That sensation accompanied by the frigid air around her and the pain of having her arms being held twisted uncomfortably in the air made her transition back to consciousness that much more unpleasant. Tension and pain racks her body every step closer she gets to being awake, drawing out a strained hiss from the woman.
“Ooh? Look who's finally decided to join the party.” A scratchy voice drawls from a few feet to her left. Opening her eyes, Y/n is met with two bright, red eyes made all the more piercing with the bot's white dots that must act as pupils. Despite the strain on her throat and body, she lets out an ear-shattering scream and kicks the new mech.
“Ach! Why you little-”
“Where am I?! Who the fuck are you?! Let me down!” Paying little mind to the irritated figure before her, she struggles in her chains, squirming and shaking.
“Awwww the little human wants to be let go?” A sharp talon pricks Y/n's chin and lifts it to bring her eyes back to his, the grin on his face a celebration of his premature victory.
“Yes! Please!”
“How polite. Such a rarity in humans.” He chuckles to himself, obviously thinking his little stab to be funny. “All you have to tell me, dear, is where the Autobot base is. Can you do that for me?”
“Don't tell him anything!” Finally, Fowler speaks up from Y/n's left, shocking her into whipping her head to face him, not having even noticed his presence prior to him yelling.
A silence fills the cold, dark room and Y/n looks back to the mech before her, a desperate look in her eyes, “I'm sorry, what's an autobot?”
The mech wrenches back, his grin twisting into an infuriated scowl. Standing to his full height, he wraps the chains that hold her around his hand and pulls them up and towards him, further twisting her arms until a sickening pop echoes in the room, forcing a scream to rip from her throat. Any kindness, faux or no, had vanished as the bot before her snarls, “What do you mean, you don’t know?!”
Y/n’s breathing is shallow and panicked, the burning sensation surging down her arm and through her shoulder causing her to squeeze shut her eyes. Luckily, it was only her right arm, but there was no time to appreciate that. After a moment, she opens her eyes to see the now-blurry mech leaned down in front of her through the tears building and streaming down her face, she hiccups, “I’m sorry! I don’t know what you’re talking about, I swear!”
“Fine. If you’re going to play like this, I have no choice but to escalate matters.” He brings himself back up to his full height and turns to another bot who presumably is standing guard at the door. “Bring the prod.”
Prod?! If struggling in her chains wouldn’t exasperate her dislocated shoulder, Y/n would be moving every which way in order to find some way to get out of this nightmarish shitshow.
“Please, sir. I don’t know anything about any Auto people! I was picked up by this man after getting lost in the desert.” Tears beginning to subside, Y/n glances at Fowler and then back to Starscream, “I’m sure you’re a reasonable… robot-”
“I am not one of your feeble human machines, I am Starscream! Current second-in-command and future leader of the Decepticons!” The door opens, letting more cold, stale air into the room, and the bot from earlier reenters the room, holding what can only be described as some futuristic bident. Starscream snatches the device from the other Decepticon, “Finally, what took you so long?!”
“I’ll be nice and give you one more opportunity, humans- where is the Autobot base?” Switching his tactics to address Fowler, he leans down to the man and holds the prod up to his chin.
“Sure thing,buddy, right after you eat my star-spangled shorts.” Fowler laughs but is quickly cut short as Starscream activates his prod, a pink electrical current running between the two prongs. Upon pressing it to Agent Fowler’s ribs, the man screams in pain, clutching his own chains in an attempt to ground himself.
“No!”
“As I imagined, energon and human nervous systems don’t mix.” As he keeps the energon-infused prod pressed to Fowler’s skin, his grin only grows. With each press of the instrument, the clothes begin to sear away, allowing the energon access to his bare skin, no doubt doing further damage, if the smell of burning skin is anything to go by.
“Starscream, leave him alone! Please!” Voices in her head plead with her to keep her mouth shut, to no avail. The man is suffering, and while Y/n wasn’t exactly Fowler’s biggest fan for taking her away from the Autobot base, she didn’t want to see the poor man suffer.
And he stops, but only for a moment. The humming of the torture device and the heavy gulps of air Fowler sucks into his lungs at the brief interlude fill the otherwise silent room. Starscream’s eyes flick back and forth, not really focusing on anything. After another moment, he gives a thoughtful hum of his own, “Perhaps you’re right. I may have been going about this all along.”
“Yes! I’m glad you-”
“If what you say is true, that means you’re an innocent human. And what a shame it would be if a, what do you humans call them- “protector of the people” was to allow a civilian to face such methods of… interrogation.” And without another moment’s pause, knives felt as if they were entering Y/n’s bloodstream from where Starscream jabs her, ripping yet another agonizing scream from her throat. 
“Stop it, con! She has nothing to do with any of this.” Fowler barks, jostling his chain to attempt to wriggle out of his constraints.
“Precisely. The faster you tell me where the Autobots are hiding, the sooner I stop hurting our friend here.” Driving the point home he jams the prod back into Y/n’s ribcage, releasing another scream from the woman. Similar to when Fowler was receiving the same “Decepticon hospitality” Y/n’s clothes began to singe away. Fighting the desire to keep her eyes closed, she struggles to look at Fowler and give him the briefest of shaking her head, before letting it hang down, the weight of her own head too much to keep up.
I am not doing this just for you to give it away, Fowler. Don’t fuck this up.
She knew she couldn’t say anything that may give her away, so the hope is that her fellow prisoner could understand to keep his mouth shut, even if she is to suffer for it. The next jolt was to her right arm, as if that arm hadn’t already been pulled from its socket, just at the crook of her elbow. To drive home the fact that he didn’t plan on letting up, Starscream dug the prod in harder against her skin, drawing blood to the surface. He finally retracts the weapon and holds Y/n’s head up with a dagger-like finger on each cheek, turning her to fully face Fowler, not that she could see him very clearly, “Come now, Agent Fowler. I don’t think our friend has much more in her. Haven’t you realized the Autobots have abandoned you? I am the only one you can rely upon now. So, tell me what I want to know, or we’ll see how many more she can take.”
“Please… no more. I’ll tell you,” Fowler breaks eye contact with Y/n, ashamed to give up after she��s done so much to keep quiet. He couldn’t keep sitting back, letting her take the brunt of Starscream’s sadism anymore. It takes so much strength for him to muster the words, “They’re in… secret government base.”
“Fowler… no.”
“Go on.”
Shots being fired were audible from beyond the door across the room. And unless Decepticons practiced their aim in the empty hallways Y/n briefly saw, that means the opposition was aboard. 
That means the Autobots had come to save them. 
“You were saying?” Having also heard the commotion outside, Starscream becomes more antsy, and it shows.
“In the old steel mill… or was it under that carnival funhouse?”
Finally fed up with the disrespect and sass, Starscream frustratedly yells and stabs the prod back into Y/n, the intensity of the voltage much higher than it had been earlier. The shots were louder now, being heard even over Y/n’s screeches. If Fowler wasn’t halfway into unconsciousness, he would have tried to distract the mech as much as he could, but he couldn’t think past staying awake and alive. 
“I’ve had enough of this.” Starscream begins unraveling Y/n from her chains, not trusting the others to keep the Autobots at bay, let alone defeating them. He may not leave this moment the victor, but like hell is he going to lose both hostages. Y/n doesn’t have the strength to fight back after all that had been done, barely even registering that not only is she free from her chains, but she’s also haphazardly being shoved into a cockpit and losing consciousness for the second time that day.
The door to the room opens a moment later, a silent Vehicon just stands in the entryway.
“Well?” He asks, patience draining with every passing second, quickly turning to shock when the Vehicon’s frame drops and both Bulkhead and Bumblebee are poised for blasting whatever stands in the room, immediately shooting the other Vehicon with Starscream. Aiming his arm towards Fowler, Starscream glowers at the interrupting bots, “Not so fast-”
“I wouldn’t.” Arcee taps him from above, having snuck her way in through the ventilation shaft. 
“Oh, but I might.” 
“Where’s Y/n?” Bulkhead keeps his blaster aimed towards Starscream, but with a brief glance around it’s easy to see there is no other organic life, other than Fowler- only chains that now hang empty.
“The other human? She said she didn’t know you, so we… parted ways.”
“NO!” Bulkhead shouts and immediately begins shooting, prompting the other to take fire as well. Starscream can only jump from side to side in order to avoid their gunfire. 
“Apologies, Autobots, but I’m sure you can find her body down below somewhere.” He cackles as he transforms into his alt-mode, and races out of the room, knocking Arcee from the vent and Bulk and Bee into the ground. 
* * * * * *
Y/n wakes up in another dark space- only this time it’s much smaller and warmer; there’s a sway to the room, if you can call it that, but she isn’t sure if the sway is from the nausea overcoming her or if wherever she is is actually moving. The last thing she remembers is a final shock to her body before passing out. Eyes adjusting to the light, it’s easy to determine the surrounding space is the inside of some kind of jet, but instead of the cockpit being parallel to the ground, it’s upturned, like the aircraft would be facing the sky. She was in a Cybertronian- likely Starscream, if the color scheme is anything to go by.
Pressing her hands to the ground, Y/n is quickly reminded of the fact that Starscream had ripped her right arm out of its socket. Looking down, she notices her clothes are burnt and ripped beyond repair- her blouse now adorned with asymmetrical, distressed sleeves that barely go past her elbows and the skirt being a shredded mess, likely from rough handling of Starscream’s razor sharp talons; Taking her foot and stepping on the pathetic scraps of fabric of her skirt, Y/n uses her functional hand and rips a handful of the fabric strips away. Y/n balls the cloths up and puts it in between her teeth as a makeshift mouth guard. The limb now felt numb, but she knows that popping it back in is going to burn; her left hand grasps the right arm’s bicep.
Deep breaths. Deep Breaths, Y/n.
And with an upwards jerk, she feels a brief click in her shoulder, but the limb doesn’t doesn’t stay in place, forcing a deep inhale through her gag.
Relax. You’re not going to be able to reset it if you don’t fucking relax. You just survive until Optimus gets you.
After another few deep breaths, Y/n tries it again and feels a more solid click as she screams, muffled by the burnt fabric in her mouth; letting go, her arm stays in place, though a reignited burn returns to the site of the wound. With her arm taken care of, getting out of this wretched place is next on the to do list. Banging a hand on the glass enclosing her in this dreadful mech’s cockpit, the needles in her throat become even more pronounced as she groans, ”Let me out.”
Nothing changes. His steps are still steady.
“Let me out!”
Again, nothing.
“STAR-”
“STARSCREAM, YOU INCOMPETENT FOOL! I ORDERED YOU TO AWAIT MY COMMAND!”
Upon hearing such a loud fury, Y/n immediately seeks out the most stable part of Starscream’s cockpit and hunkers down. If she has learned anything, it’s that these Decepticons generally deal with disputes through violence, and she doesn’t believe that stops within their own ranks.
“Please, Lord Megatron, I meant no- AGH!” and just like that, Starscream, and Y/n transitively, fly across the room at Megatron’s hand. And though Y/n can’t see him, it did not sound like it took much physical exertion for him to do so. 
“Instead, your mindless agenda resulted in the disabling of my ship and the delay of MY PLANS!” Megatron raises his hand again, more than ready to strike Starscream again.
“My intentions were pure, master. I only wanted you to be rid of Optimus.” Y/n’s world tilts as Megatron brings his foot against Starscream’s head, smashing it into the ground and allowing sparks to fly; she grunts at being thrown from her “safe space” and rolls onto the glass under her that begins cracking under the pressure of Megatron’s foot. She hates crying, but after the third time death threatens to barrel down your door, the stress begins to cap off, and so the weeping begins.
“NO ONE RIDS ME OF OPTIMUS PRIME BUT ME! DO YOU UNDERSTAND? DO-” The sound of Y/n’s wailing, though faint to Megatron’s audials, catches his attention. Lifting Starscream above himself by his throat and turning him enough to get a glimpse into his cockpit, making perfect eye contact with Y/n. Slowly turning Starscream back to face him, Megatron tightens his grasp around his throat and hisses, “Starscream… explain yourself.”
“My lord, She is a friend of the Autobots! I took her as a hostage so we can extract information!” His voice comes out staticy, a sign Megatron may be doing more damage than he should as he continues constricting his grip. 
“You are as stupid as you are a disgrace to the Decepticons. Bring the human out.” Megatron growls his command and releases his throat, sending his second-in-command scrambling to retrieve Y/n, who in turn dodges each grab at her body, thanking the fates for making his cockpit on his back while bi-pedal.
“Stop moving, you-”
“Keep the fuck away from me! I already told you, I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, you walking scrapyard, and me speaking to your troglodyte of a boss isn’t going to change that!” Unfortunately, there’s only so many places for Y/n to run to, and her Yakety sax impression comes to a close when he manages to snag a part of her skirt. Bringing her out on the palm of his hand whilst using his thumb to press her to lie flat on her stomach, he presents her to his master while scowling down at her.
“Why you insolent little-”
“You are wasting my time, Starscream! Is she telling the truth- have you really learned nothing from your own hostage?! Not only have you wasted our resources with your stunt, but you have given the Autobots a reason to storm this ship!”
“No, my liege! They won’t come here to find her- they believe her to be dead.” Starscream allows a shaky smile to creep its way onto his lips, hoping to at least somewhat appease the brute in front of him. Processing what he’s just said, Y/n stops trying to move her way from under the mech’s thumb.
They think I’m dead.
“And what does that leave us with? A soft, useless human who can’t even escape the confines of your servos, let alone provide any kind of productivity for our cause.
No one is coming to save me.
The image of Megatron’s face moving to be right in front of her entire body snaps Y/n out of her spiraling thoughts of lost hope, the heat and humidity coming from his mouth breezes against her, forcing goosebumps to crawl along her arms. The mechanical giant looks her person up and down, then scoffs,
“Worthless scrap.”
The woman bristles as he begins to make his way towards one of the room’s doors. Having noticed Starscream loosening his hold on her back, Y/n stands and snarls at the back of Megatron, “I’m sure you know all about being worthless, wouldn’t you.”
His heavy foot slams to the floor midstep, once relaxed stature stiffened as he slowly turns back towards Y/n and Starscream, in which the latter panickedly looks between the girl in his hand and the mech who has killed other Cybertronians for less. Megatron turns his attention to another mech Y/n had not previously noticed who is practically hidden in the lack of light on this ship- of whom looks back to Megatron. The two stare at one another, as if speaking with each other telepathically.
“Starscream, take that… thing to Knockout for examination.”
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misspoetree · 1 year
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KinnPorsche + Text Posts: Vegas Edition - Part III
Bonus: The Struggle
[Character Editions: Pete Part I & II | Vegas Part I & II | Tay | Tankhun Part I & II | Big | Porsche Part I & II | Kim | Porchay | Chan | Kinn Part I & II | Macau | Pol]
[Themed Editions: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | ?]
[Episode Editions]
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ph0bianf · 1 month
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Waha i love rabbit/hare cdream guys.. drops this here
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"Whumpee asked for you specifically, A. I'll let you in to see them," Whumpee's medic and lover, Caretaker, said.
A couldn’t believe it. Whumpee wanted to see them? Before their best friend, B? After they sacrificed themself and were tortured by Whumper for months because of them?
They followed Caretaker, refusing to let them down, even as their face burned with shame, guilt gnawing at their insides.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Leader Whumpee sat in the wheelchair, whiteboard sitting across their blanketed lap as Caretaker opened the door for A, the younger, sibling-like member of Team. A's breath hitched, eyes widening.
"They’re okay, A," Caretaker assured them. "Their throat is still healing, and they're still weak, but they're going to be okay."
A nodded, Caretaker letting out a deep breath. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to give the two of you some privacy. I have some things to attend to." The door shut behind them, leaving A standing before Whumpee, unable to meet their eyes at the sight of matching wounds from Whumper.
Whumpee's eyes burned with the shame of being unable to even give A a hug, or tell them that none of this was their fault. They attempted a smile, scribbling on their board.
"I missed you."
A's eyes welled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Whumpee," they whispered, hands curling into fists.
Whumpee shook their head vigorously, scribbling big letters on the board before tapping it when their marker. A looked up, hiccuping when they saw the message.
"It’s not your fault. They would've just killed you and taken me anyways. It's not your fault."
As A sank to their knees, they wrapped their arms around Whumpee in a hug, holding back tears as they pressed their face into the blanket.
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candycandy00 · 7 months
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hello! i just came by one of your post, and checked your profile for more. could you do a rape scenario for sukuna? it can be short, or long, anyway you prefer, no pressure <3
Smut. 18+. Rape/Noncon! This is a very brutal little fanfic! Do not read if things like this bother you! Contains blood/torture/humiliation/double penetration. All the bad things! This turned out way longer than I planned but I got kinda into it lol. Goes harder than I intended too but let’s face it: being raped by Sukuna would be a very hard experience.
You were a powerful sorceress. That’s what everyone had told you since you were a young girl. Your power dwarfed that of every other person in your large village, and so you were treated as special, almost like a deity. You had your own group of guards, whom you cherished as dear friends, and you adored the villagers who showered you with gifts. 
So when the monster Ryomen Sukuna attacked your village, you didn’t even hesitate to step in and try your best to protect it. You were a bit naive, having been sheltered by the villagers, but you were not stupid. You had heard rumors about Sukuna, and so you were aware that you probably didn’t stand a chance against him. Still, if you could only keep him distracted long enough for some of the villagers to flee into the mountains, it would be worth trying to fight him. 
He was most likely after the cache of cursed weapons and items stored there, and would probably have little interest in chasing down the people scurrying like rats. You would offer the treasures to him, but he was already in the village, already slaughtering everyone who stepped into his path. He would listen to no offers, no negotiations. So you dismissed your guards, who only left when you commanded them to guard the children as they were evacuated, and then hurried to the village square to confront Sukuna.
When you saw him, your heart nearly stopped. He was far more terrifying than you had ever imagined. It wasn’t just the four arms and four eyes, the massive height, the muscular figure. It was the aura he emitted, the crushing pressure of his very presence. Every inch of your body was screaming for you to run, or to immediately drop into a bow and beg for your life. This man was a cruel and brutal beast. He would tear you apart if you displeased him in the slightest of ways. That’s what you felt when you looked at him. 
Even so, there was something awe-inspiring about him. You understood instantly how he had brought so many villages to heel and why people were drawn to him. There was a savage beauty to him that made your heart pound furiously. 
But despite all of this, you still had to fight him. Every second you could buy was another second for the villagers to escape. 
“If it’s the cursed tools you want, you can have them,” you shouted to him from several feet away.  “Spare the rest of the villagers, and you can take them all with no resistance!”
He looked at you then, his red eyes all four sweeping over you. “What resistance?” he asked with a laugh, sending invisible blades slicing through a woman who was running by you. Her blood splattered across your robe. 
As you suspected, trying to talk to him was pointless. Battle was the only language he understood at that moment. 
So you attacked him. The fight was brief, lasting less than half an hour and consisting mainly of you evading his slashes while failing to get a solid hit on him. You got the impression he could have ended the fight instantly but had chosen to toy with you first. In the end, his slashes ripped through you, shredding your robes as well as your flesh, leaving you a bloody mess on the ground. 
As your life faded, you saw him walking toward you, and to your great surprise, he used his Reverse Cursed Technique to heal you! Not enough to restore you completely, but enough to pull you out of the dying state. You were still covered in slash wounds, but they were closing up and no longer pouring blood. You struggled to get to your feet, realizing with embarrassment that your clothing had been completely destroyed, leaving you naked and totally vulnerable before this monster. You wrapped your wounded arms around yourself and looked at him questioningly, wondering why he spared you.  
You got your answer soon enough. 
He’d dragged you into the shrine, sat down on the raised dais, and pulled your bare, cut up body into his lap. You were too terrified, and too weak, to struggle. You’d used up all your cursed energy in your vain attempt to stall him, and you’d lost a lot of blood. It was still dripping down your body in small, slow trickles.  
When he reached down with one of his four hands and pulled his own robe open, you nearly screamed. Revealed to you were two gigantic cocks, one above the other. Both were standing tall and hard. Apparently the battle, brief and one-sided as it was, had aroused him. Or maybe it had been the sight of your naked, bloody flesh. Regardless, you understood what was happening, and your only comfort was that more of the villagers would have a chance to escape while Sukuna was violating you. 
Just then you heard a commotion at the shrine’s entrance, and the worst possible sight greeted you when you looked up. Your guards, the handsome and kind hearted young men who were charged with protecting you, had rushed in. The look of horror on their faces probably mirrored your own. You could only imagine what they were thinking, finding you in this state. 
They ran forward, intending to help you, but the first one was sliced to ribbons before he got even a foot closer. The rest of them paused, but clearly were prepared to run at Sukuna again, but Sukuna’s smooth voice stopped them. 
“Take another step, and I’ll slice her up the same way.”
They all froze, their infuriated eyes watching Sukuna’s hands jerk your arms behind your back while the other two moved over your body. 
“Kneel,” he told them, and they quickly dropped to their knees. Sukuna grinned. “All of you watch.”
You turned your face to look at him. “Please, no! Just let them go! I won’t struggle!”
His haunting red eyes met yours as a wicked smile spread over his face. “I want you to struggle,” he said, and his two free hands yanked your legs apart, exposing you to your guards. 
To a man, they all looked away, but then you felt a painful slash across your shoulder. Blood spurted as you cried out, and the guards looked back up. Sukuna didn’t even have to speak the threat for your guards to understand. 
Sukuna shifted his hands so that only one of them was holding your wrists behind your back. Only one was needed. Two of them were still holding your thighs wide apart, and the last one moved down between your legs, his fingers gliding across your slit. One finger slipped between the delicate flesh and found your most sensitive spot, stroking it with agonizing gentleness. You didn’t want to feel pleasure in this situation, from an evil, sadistic man who’d murdered many of your friends, and right in front of your poor guards who were forced to watch. But Sukuna’s fingers moved masterfully, rubbing in exactly the right way to send jolts of pleasure through your entire body. 
You quivered in his lap, trying to pull your hands free, trying to close your shaking legs, but it was no use. Your struggling and fighting only seemed to excite him. 
He pressed his mouth against your ear, and said in a low, sultry voice, “For a nobody in a backwater village like this, you’re pretty strong. But that’s alright. I enjoy breaking the strong ones.”
Suddenly you felt something wet and soft moving over your clit. You looked down in alarm to find a mouth in his palm, the lips open and a long tongue protruding from it, lapping at your spread open pussy. You cried out in surprise, and then in horror when you realized the pleasure was becoming too much for you. Sukuna was going to make you cum right here in front of your guards. 
You struggled again, jerking against his grip, but it only made him laugh loudly. 
“You should be thanking me,” he said. “If I don’t get you properly slicked up, my cocks are going to rip you apart.”
You whimpered in response, tears filling your eyes. You knew what was coming, but having him verbally confirm it broke your spirit. 
You’d been avoiding the eyes of your guards. You couldn’t bear to meet their gazes. But there was one you’d been particularly close to, and you couldn’t help seeking his face for some small bit of comfort. But when you looked at him, you found his face flushed pink as he watched you writhe about in Sukuna’s grasp. 
Sukuna chuckled in your ear. “Your guards are starting to enjoy the show.” The words cut you deeper than any of Sukuna’s slashes had. These men were your friends! Some were like brothers to you! 
Suddenly Sukuna’s hand-tongue plunged inside you while his fingers pinched your clit. You moaned despite yourself, your back arching against your will. You’d never felt anything like this, and with tears of shame and pain running down your face, you came on Sukuna’s hand. 
When it was finally over, and you were a trembling mess in Sukuna’s lap, you hung your head low and sobbed. You were so ashamed of yourself for feeling pleasure, for having an orgasm from the touch of this brutal conqueror. But your torment was only beginning. 
You felt Sukuna lift your whole body up, then position the tip of his absurdly huge upper cock at your entrance. Then without hesitation, he pulled you down, roughly and quickly, impaling you. 
A scream erupted from your mouth as you felt yourself stretching past your limits, your skin slightly tearing, warm blood trickling down your thighs. Sukuna was merciless, immediately beginning to move you up and down his length with two of his powerful hands, as if you were a toy to him. You cried, you struggled, but it only made his movements faster, harsher. He was enjoying your pain, laughing at your humiliation. 
Eventually, after an unknown amount of time passed during which you almost blacked out twice, you heard his voice again. “My lower cock is feeling neglected.”
You were half conscious, but you snapped to awareness when you felt his other tip pressing into you. His fingers had slid in beside his upper cock, and were stretching you even further open, to make room. You looked back at him in disbelief. “Y-you can’t! That would kill me!”
Again he put his warm mouth close to your ear as he said, “From the moment you attacked me, you’ve been living on borrowed time. At least use your pitiful death to please me.”
You glanced out at your guards, your addled mind somehow hoping they could save you. But they were all frozen, the ones that had looked slightly aroused earlier now looked horrified as they realized what Sukuna was doing. A few of them had tears in their eyes. 
“Please send them away,” you begged. “Don’t make them watch me die.”
“But that’s the best part!” he said, the grin on his face looking slightly unhinged. 
And then, the second cock shoved its way in. You gasped first, then screamed as he sheathed it completely inside you, ripping you open in the process. As he began moving you up and down, drilling into you, the pain was blinding, maddening. You wondered if this was what giving birth felt like. 
Two of his hands were on your waist, lifting you up and down, one was still holding your wrists behind you. The fourth hand touched your face, turning it to the side so that he could look at you, so he could watch the agony in your eyes. For a moment, he wore no expression at all. And then he dipped his head closer to yours and kissed your mouth. It was a bizarrely sensual kiss, a kiss for lovers. Gentle, slow, intimate. It confused you more than anything. 
He released your wrists, but you were too weak to do anything useful with them, so they dropped limply to your sides. The hand he’d been using to restrain you slid down, and again a mouth appeared in his palm, the tongue softly circling your clit. 
You wanted to scream again, to beg him to stop. Don’t make me feel pleasure while you’re killing me! you thought. But your tortured body sought out any relief it could find, any sensation that didn’t hurt. And Sukuna’s tongues, one in your mouth and one gliding wetly over your clit, did not hurt. In fact they were the only things that didn’t. 
So your body responded. Even as his twin cocks tore through you, even as you could hear blood dripping onto the floor, you moaned into Sukuna’s mouth. Reflexively, without your permission, one of your hands moved up to touch his face as he kissed you, sliding back and into his hair. You felt him smile against your mouth, his eyes shimmering with delight. 
You didn’t want this. You could think of very few things you could want less than being violently raped by Sukuna in front of your helpless guards. But the human body does all sorts of strange things to cope, to survive. So you came, moaning and crying at the same time, your body twitching in his hands, your guards looking on in horror. 
Eventually, Sukuna’s cocks shot out massive loads of cum, first the upper one and then the lower one, completely filling you. Afterwards, he pushed you off his lap, and you landed unceremoniously in a heap on the floor, blood and cum pouring out of you. 
You were certain you were dying, and within seconds you passed out right there on the floor of the shrine. 
When you awoke, Sukuna had taken all the cursed tools your village had been guarding and left. You heard from one of your guards, who refused to look you in the eye, that Sukuna had healed you almost completely before leaving. You had no idea why. 
You also found out the majority of the villagers had made it safely into the mountains, and were now being escorted back by the guards. So even though you had gone through hell and back, you would still do it again. Your suffering saved a lot of lives, and you could live with that. 
Sometimes you wondered why Sukuna spared you, and even went so far as to heal you. Maybe it was just a whim. Or maybe he thought he might return someday to terrorize you again. Either way, you had survived. Your village had survived. 
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