blood drips

A/N: I feel like a lot of the fic I read (and write) centers around Emma, and paints Killian as a pining and/or doting partner, and we never really get to see the angry pirate side of him. I wanted to experiment with something different, so this piece aspires to be more Killian-centric and a little bit darker. Hopefully it comes out as what I imagine it to be. Warning, graphic depictions of violence ahead. American Assassin inspired AU.

Summary: After tragedy tears his life apart, Killian Jones is determined to exact revenge on the ones who wronged him. But his path to revenge turns out to be a winding one, filled with surprising characters that may even change his life again.

Word Count: 1306

Links: ao3, ff.net


Prologue

Killian toyed with the ring in his pocket while he waited for the bartender to make their drinks. He’d spent a considerable amount of time thinking about how he’d do this, but he hadn’t been able to come to a decision. Putting the ring in the drink seemed a little too cheesy, not to mention a choking hazard, but he wanted to present it in some special way, not just hand it to her like a bar of chocolate.

The bartender set two drinks down in front of him, and as Killian’s eyes took in the large, tropical flowers sitting atop each, he knew what he wanted to do. Carefully, he pulled the ring from his pocket and balanced it in the center of the flower, threading the pistil through it. Smiling he turned and located Milah on the beach, where she was emerging from the water, hands running over her dark curls. She smiled when she saw him and jogged toward him, accepting her drink while keeping her eyes locked on his, and he placed his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. Milah’s eyes flicked down as she went to take a sip of her drink, and the shine of the ring caught her attention at last.

“Killian?” she asked, her voice brimming with surprise.

“Milah, my love,” he said, taking her free hand in his, “you are everything I could ever need in this world and so much more. You brought me out of the darkness and showed me that life could be more than just loss. You’re my one true love, and there’s no one else I would rather travel the world with. I never want to be parted from you. Will you,” he continued, dropping to one knee, “allow me the honour of becoming your husband?”

“Are you serious?” Milah exclaimed, her eyes glistening with tears. “Are you really serious?”

“Is that a yes?” he asked, nerves practically paralyzing him.

“Yes, of course that’s a yes!” she nearly squealed, falling into his arms as he stood and peppered her face with kisses.

Killian took the ring and slipped it onto Milah’s finger, and she pressed a long kiss against his lips. He opened his mouth under the pressure and was only dimly aware of the applause coming from the people around them.

After a few moments, they broke apart, and Milah buried her face in his neck, laughing happily.

“I should go get the camera,” Killian whispered to the top of her head, his heart pounding with joy.

“Okay,” Milah agreed, stepping away. She took his cup and lay down in one of the lounging chairs.

Killian took a moment to appreciate how beautiful she looked before jogging off in the direction of the hotel. As he went, he noticed a speedboat zooming across the shallows, sending waves across the sand. Boats themselves weren’t unusual, but it was the first time he had seen one so close to the beach. There was nothing sinister about a speedboat, however, so Killian simply kept moving, wanting to get up to their room and grab the camera as quickly as possible so he could return to celebrating.

Just as Killian was wrapping his hand around the hand of the door, he hear a barrage of gunshots, and he turned to see bullets spraying across the beach, striking down one person after another. Fear gripped him, and he turned immediately to run back toward Milah, but people were running everywhere, and he could no longer see where she was. Her brown curls blended into the crowd of people and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t seem to locate her.

“Milah!” he screamed at the top of his lungs, trying desperately to be heard over the hundreds of other people calling for their loved ones. “Milah!”

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BTS Reactions - You live in an abusive household

Warning - May be upsetting to some readers

Your boyfriend has had some concerns about your home situation for a wile, and this time he’s finally had it. When you were over earlier in the day, he saw that you had a huge burn on your arm. You had tried to keep it a secret, but he insisted on looking at your arm when you kept wincing. All night he’s been pacing about the dorm, trying to think about what to do. He finally came to a conclusion after being urged by the other boys - he was coming over to make sure you’re okay.

When he got to your front door, he heard glass smashing and a muffled cry from inside, so he quickly found your spare key and let himself in. He runs in to find your father gripping your hair, and blood dripping from your face. You both hear your boyfriend stumble in, and your father and him lock eyes.

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The signs as of lately

Aries: sadness is something you are not accustomed to. Its been clouding your vision and your struggling hard to find a bright enough light to lift the fog. You’re searching for that fire within you. You’ve always counted on it to get you through. It’s not gone, it hasn’t abandoned you. It’s just soft enough to guide you through this. Reminding you that it’s ok to feel heart ache and that there is still beauty here. Take this stillness as a blessing. The fog will lift.

Taurus: grounded and tall. You’ve come through hell and back with flowers of peace in your hands. The marks of ash are still on your body but you hold these bright flowers effortlessly. You feel the weight of the past year roll off your back as you look out into endless mountains. You feel as powerful as those high peaks. It’s time to create, its time to be part of the divine.

Gemini: this is for you. You may not see it but you create waves in people. Heaviness may be constant visitor. And I know there’s a strange comfort to it. Trust when you feel it lifted and chase after it with all that you’ve got. You’re going to do great things. Anyone who sees you knows that.

Cancer: god sees your softness. There’s not much to say. You feel with every fiber in your body. I know you’ve grown up scared. I know you hold so much sadness. But I see your softness. I know you only mean well.

Leo: persistence is your greatest gift. I know you’re exhausted by the constant demands of this earth. You’re eyes show it with each line. You’re constantly tired. However it’s your strength and will that keeps you moving. You are loved beyond anything you could comprehend. This is worth it. I promise you.

Virgo: vulnerability and truth. Growing up you have learned to stay quite and polite. You’ve learned that emotions cause more harm than good. You’ve gravitated towards anything that offers great logic. However now is the time to leave that behind. It’s done it’s job. It’s time to sit with your emotions and to listen to your inner truth. Vulnerability will be you’re greatest strength.

Libra: we are so proud of you. You have covered treacherous waters. Your lungs are sore from coughing up the waters that weighed you down. You can catch your breath and look onward. You now have the power of the ocean within your blood. Carry on and do great things. We’re all counting on you.

Scorpio: let it dissolve. Let it sit on you tongue and truly taste it. Patience and kindness is what you most need. That may not make the most sense at this point because all you’ve been doing lately is waiting. You’ve been searching for answers and searching for kindness. Those have always been with in you. Listen to your divine self. Let go of the fear that has been paralyzing you. Find your breath and step into this new chapter with everything you’ve got. Golden days are ahead.

Sagittarius: these are things you have not experienced. Loneliness feels like a guest who’s over stayed their welcome. I know you’re running from it. I know you’ve always been running. Always been looking for the better thing. This is the universe reminding you to find peace within your self.

Capricorn: lack of stability. This is your greatest fear. You’re so accustomed to these strict guidelines that rule your life. However you’ve been building these with materials that are going to break easily. This is something you turn your head away from. You’re not ready to sit with your old wounds. To be broken is a way of growth. Let it fall.

Aquarius: cutting off your leaves. You feel this will give you a fresh start. However you’re confusing your leaves with your roots leaving you uprooted. You confuse this with joy. Child you have to stop playing hide and seek. It’s time to sit and sort through all that you’ve been avoiding. It’s time to come home.

Pisces: searching for heaven. You keep pricking yourself on rose thrones. I’m not sure why your confused with the blood dripping off your fingers. Nothing has been making much sense to you lately. Come lay down and rest. The answers will not show them self to you right now. All you can do is rest. Change is on the horizon. Have faith.

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lmao so i forgot to mention i got punched this night (don’t freak guys; not in the face, i’m fine, mama can handle herself) and initially i was like “Day in the life of a queer, cool cool what else is new” but now looking back the dude looked was so gone so like lol honestly? with how fast i whipped around the corner in the dark club, looking like 666 the Stripper, fake blood dripping out of my mouth what likely happened was this poor guy was trying to drink libation as the lord hath permitted, saw me, tripped out, the BE GONE SATAN instinct kicked in and i got caught in the middle of “a man looking into the eyes of the devil” and “basic human survival reflex”. Could’ve maybe kept his fists to himself but lol situation is making me laugh too hard to get mad. Jokes aside, being in drag ain’t consent y'all.

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I dont analyse chapters so i dont really know but. There were some panels that really reminded me of that special chapter. Like 

And then Bum’s uncle:

AND OF COURSE THE BLOOD THING. I MEAN BLOOD ALWAYS BEEN A PROBLEM IN THIS WEBTOON :D 

Anyways. We clearly see Bum cut his uncles fingers and blood dripped on the floor. 

There were blood, 

?????

When Bum was falling asleep, Koogi showed this panel where blood is obviously there.

And look at his pants too, they are down, i mean his shorts.?. Anyways :D

He saw a dream(?) where Sangwoo calls him and tells him to open the door.

And then when he wakes up for real, there is no blood. And his pants are up. 

So that means one of them is dream, right. If the ones with blood are dreams, then the uncle thing is also dream. But well.. I really dont know…

5

Have a coke and a smile

Photos by Carey Lynne Fruth and Sophie Spinelle of Shameless Photography

( he / him or they / them )

Insta: pansystbattie

[image desc: 5 photos of me, a nonbinary indian wheelchair user, as a pin up vampire (1) me in a classic pinup coke pose (2) me holding a coke bottle filled with blood with one leg over the side of my wheelchair showing fangs with blood on my lip (3) me holding a champagne glass of blood with blood dripping from my lip (4) me holding the coke bottle with blood dripping from my lip (5) a glamour shot of me with blood on my neck]

I am lonely again.
Sitting silently,
The breeze hounds at my window
And rattles wooden frames.
  
There are birds in the rafters
Making a mess of the plums.
  
Summer fruit spills
Like blood from the ceiling,
Dripping
In anguish.
 
Oh, my heart wishes
That this body was a home.
The way it speaks of silence
Says it all.
 
I watch through my window,
Four years,
The world spins faster
Every time.
 
I am lonely again
And I can’t seem to shake
The fruitless winter
That has swallowed me whole.
—  poeticallyordinary
8

“Ryan Gosling called me like 8 weeks before we started shooting and said ‘Hey D. Let’s have the most tattoos in movie history in this one.’ I said ‘Okay. You want tattoos.’ He said ‘Yeah. And, I want a face tattoo.’ I said ‘Sure you want a face tattoo? That’s really permanent.’ He says ‘Yeah. And, it’s gonna be a dagger and it’s gonna be dripping blood.’ And I said ‘If I was your parent I’d say don’t get a face tattoo. You’re gonna regret it. But, you’re a big boy. You do whatever you wanna do.’ Flash-forward 8 weeks later, we’re shooting, first day of shooting. Ryan comes up to me at lunch and says ‘Hey D. I think I went too far with the face tattoo. I think we should reshoot all the stuff we did.’ And, I said ‘That’s what happens with the face tattoo. You regret it, and now you’re stuck with it. We’re not gonna reshoot anything. You’re gonna live with it for the rest of this movie.’ What it created in him was this shame. He was ashamed of himself. He had a regret and walked into every scene with that regret.” - Derek Cianfrance

2

Viking Silver Snake Pendant and Chain, Late 9th Century AD

The serpent form may relate to the Norse myth of Jörmungandr (Jormungand), the Midgard Serpent, a child of Loki and a giantess who according to legend grew so large that it was able to surround the earth and grasp its own tail, forming an ouroboros. According to legend, when it releases its tail, Ragnarök, the final battle of the gods that will result in Earth becoming completely covered in water, will begin. One of the most popular motifs in Norse art concerns the story of Thor and Jörmungandr. In classic Thor style, he sets off on a reckless fishing expedition, taking the head of an ox as his bait, and sails further out to sea than he should. With a large hook and the ox head, he catches Jörmungandr, who surfaces, poison and blood dripping from his mouth. Thor’s fishing companion, the giant Hymir, quickly cuts Thor’s line before he can slay the serpent with his hammer and Jörmungandr sinks beneath the waves, the threat at bay - for the moment. Multiple Viking picture stones have been found depicting this story, including one from as early as the late 8th century.

anonymous asked:

How do you write a fight scene without becoming repetitive? I feel like it just sounds like "she did this then this then this." Thanks so much!

I watch her as she fights. Her left leg flies through the air – a roundhouse – rolling into a spin. She misses, but I guess she’s supposed to. Her foot lands and launches her into a jump. Up she goes again, just as fast. The other leg pumps, high knee gaining altitude. The jumping leg tucks. Her body rolls midair, momentum carrying her sideways. She kicks. A tornado kick, they call it. The top of her foot slams into Rodrigo’s head, burying in his temple. Didn’t move back far enough, I guess.

His head, it snaps sideways like a ball knocked off a tee. Skull off the spine. His eyes roll back, and he slumps. Whole body limp. Legs just give out beneath him. He clatters to the sidewalk; wrist rolling off the curb.

She lands, making the full turn and spins back around. Her eyes are on his body. One foot on his chest. I don’t know if he’s alive. I don’t know if she cares. Nah, she’s looking over her shoulder. Looking at me.

The truth twists my gut. I should’ve started running a long time ago.

The first key to writing a good fight scene is to tell a story. The second key is having a grasp of combat rules and technique. The third is to describe what happens when someone gets hit. The fourth is to remember physics. Then, roll it all together. And remember: be entertaining.

If you find yourself in the “and then” trap, it’s because you don’t have a firm grasp of what exactly it is your writing. “He punched” then “She blocked” then “a kick” only gets you so far.

You’ve got to get a sense for shape and feeling, and a sense of motion. Take a page from the comic artist’s playbook and make a static image feel like it’s moving. Try to remember that violence is active. Unless your character is working with a very specific sort of soft style, they’re attacks are going to come with force. So, you’ve got to make your sentences feel like your hitting something or someone.

“Ahhh!” Mary yelled, and slammed her fist into the pine’s trunk. A sickening crack followed, then a whimper not long after.

Angie winced. “Feel better?”

Shaking out her hand, Mary bit her lip. Blood dripped from her knuckles, uninjured fingers gripping her wrist. She sniffed, loudly. “I…” she paused, “…no.”

“You break your hand?”

“I think so. Yeah.”

“Good,” Angie said. “Think twice next time before challenging a tree.”

Let your characters own their mistakes. If they hit something stupid in anger, like a wall or a tree then let them have consequences. Injury is part of combat. In the same way, “I should be running now” is. When the small consequences of physical activity invade the page, they bring reality with them.

People don’t just slug back and forth unless they don’t know how to fight, or their only exposure to combat is mostly movies or bloodsport like boxing. Either way, when one character hits another there are consequences. It doesn’t matter if they blocked it or even deflected it, some part of the force is going to be transitioned into them and some rebounds back at the person who attacked.

Your character is going to get hurt, and it’ll be painful. Whether that’s just a couple of bruises, a broken bone, or their life depends on how the fight goes.

However, this is fantasy. It is all happening inside our heads. Our characters are never in danger unless we say they are. They’ll never be hurt unless we allow it. A thousand ghost punches can be thrown and mean absolutely, utterly nothing at all to the state of the character. This is why it is all important to internalize the risks involved.

The writer is in charge of bringing a dose of reality into their fictional world. It is much easier to sell an idea which on some level mimics human behavior and human reactions. The ghost feels physical because we’ve seen it happen on television or relate to it happening to us when we get injured.

You’ve got five senses, use them. You know what it feels like to get injured. To be bruised. To fall down. To be out of breath. Use that.

Here’s something to take with you: when we fight, every technique brings us closer together. Unless it specifically knocks someone back. You need specific distances to be able to use certain techniques. There’s the kicking zone, the punching zone, and the grappling zone. It’s the order of operation, the inevitable fight progression. Eventually, two combatants will transition through all three zones and end up on the ground.

So, keep the zones in mind. If you go, “she punched, and then threw a roundhouse kick” that’s wrong unless you explain more. Why? Because if the character is close enough to throw a punch, then they’re too close to throw most kicks. The roundhouse will just slap a knee or a thigh against the other character’s ribs, and probably get caught. If you go, “she punched, rammed an uppercut into his stomach, and seized him by the back of the head”, then that’s right. You feel the fighters getting progressively closer together, which is how its supposed to work.

Use action verbs, and change them up. Rolled, rotated, spun, punched, kicked, slammed, rammed, jammed, whipped, cracked, etc.

You’ve got to sell it. You need to remember a human’s bodily limits, and place artificial ones. You need to keep track of injuries, every injury comes with a cost. Make sure they aren’t just trading blows forever.

I’ve seen advice that says fights all by themselves aren’t interesting. I challenge that assertion. If you’re good at writing action, then the sequence itself is compelling. You know when you are because it feels real. Your reader will tune out if it isn’t connecting, and the fight scene is a make or break for selling your fantasy. It is difficult to write or create engaging, well choreographed violence that a reader can easily follow and imagine happening.

-Michi

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Where Is He?

Request: I saw you wanted some angsty tom holland spider man requests >:3 you should write something where the reader gets kidnapped by someone who found out she is dating Peter, and they try to get her to reveal his location and secrets about him but she refuses to and they torture her. You can make an extra angsty ending or a fluffy one! Love you!

Requested by: anonymous.

A/N: Ooooh! Thank you for the request, love. I love you too ;) 

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Warnings: angst. torturing of the sort, a bit of sexual implications but not much.


Originally posted by j-murphy

“We know you’re dating him. There’s no point trying to fake it.” You felt your breath stuck in your throat as your eyes warily watch the knife tracing your arm. You fought your wrist restraints, trying to break free but it was helpless. Whoever had kidnapped you had used tough rope and wound it around your wrists tightly. It didn’t help that they’d strung your wrists so high that you could barely stand on your own feet. “Where is he?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You spat at the man before you, holding your head out before you defiantly. “And even if I did, there’s no way i’d tell you.” You watched with terror as the man before you tightened his grip on the knife, pressing it lightly into your arm. You bit your lip, not giving him the satisfaction of hearing you cry out.

You’d expected him to continue, continue cutting until he finally managed to hear you cry. But instead the man stopped, pausing in his efforts. You watched him step closer to you, so that his face was only a mere inches from your own. You held your breath, backing your head as far as you could against the wall. You hated being the damsel in distress and you hated it more that you were being used for information, but there was no way in hell you give Peter up so you wouldn’t be hurt. Speaking of, it’d be really nice if he showed up around now…

“You know…” The man started, tilting the long knife threateningly in front of your face. “I’ve been watching you, well you and Spider-Man. I see the way he cares for you, which is exactly why I went after you. Even if you don’t tell me anything, he’ll fall for my trap to come save you and i’ll have him right where I want him.” You bit your lip, kicking out your lip in frustration knowing that the man in front of you was exactly right. Peter would come save you and there was nothing you could do to warn him that it’d only be a trap. “I’ll enjoy killing him in front of you.” 

“He’s stronger than you think.” You argued, shaking your head at his threats. The man only chuckled at your defiance, biting his lip in thought as he stared at you. You watched him warily, unsure of what he’d do before he shocked you, reaching his arms out and grabbing ahold of your top. You immediately knew of what he’d do and you opened your mouth to plead but was a second late as you heard the sound of fabric rip. 

You flushed in embarrassment as your bare stomach and bra came into view. You tried to press your elbows together, a feeble attempt at covering yourself.

“You’re very beautiful. I can see why Peter likes you.” The man commented, allowing his eyes to roam your shape. For a moment you feared of what he’d do, something that would be way worse the slicing your skin. But you allowed yourself to breath again when he grabbed the knife again, shaking his head; “i’m not gonna hurt you. Not in that way at least.” He confirmed, and despite the impending doom you knew faced you, you felt relief at the fact that he wasn’t going to touch you like that.

“Fuck you.” You spat, eyes crinkling in disgust.

“Feisty.” The man stepped towards you and you sucked in a deep breath, leaning up on your wrists and pressing your back against the wall. It did nothing to stop the man as he effortlessly stepped forward, making sure you were looking at him as he pressed the knife against your bare stomach, sliding it down your stomach. You could feel the blood drip down your stomach as pain shot through you.

You clenched your hands together, pressing your lips together in last hopes of keeping whatever yell of pain you’d have in. It only seemed to please the psychopath more, to see you struggle not to cry out. He laughed cruelly, a smirk on his lips as he placed his knife at your hip, pressing into it. There was nothing you could do as a scream burst through your lips, your ankles wobbling as you slumped, falling against the man. He did nothing but pushed you back up, “that’s it. Scream.” 

He sliced down your arm again, across your stomach, by your ribs. And all throughout you screamed in pain. No matter how much you pleaded he only continued, repeating the same question; “where is he?” Still you refused to answer, bit your tongue, and suffered through the pain.

It wasn’t until this had been going on far too long did the man show signs of frustration. He screamed in your face, calling you every name in the book as he slammed every bit of anger at you. “Damnit! Where is here?!”

“Right here.” You snapped your head to our left, finding Peter Parker in his Spider-Man suit standing above some rumble. Your heart fell at the sight of him, shaking your head in a desperate plea to go. You watched as your capturer turned towards you with a sick smile; “told you.” And then he was gone from your side, running towards Spider-Man who almost immediately fell into battle.

You tried your best to fight your restraints, your voice coming in a raw scream if Peter was knocked to the ground. He’d only nod your way, sending a reassuring smile as jump back into action. You watch him be beat on, fall and be thrown to the ground. But you watched him get back up from the ground, with renowned strength. You watched as the man finally fell to the ground and Peter delivered one final blow, knowing him out. 

He ripped his mask off his face, immediately running to your side. Peter said nothing as he scrambled to untie your restraints, you falling onto him almost immediately. He repeated your name in alarm, repeating you’d be okay and you didn’t know if it was for you or for himself. It didn’t matter, all that mattered is that you told him the truth. “I didn’t tell him anything.” You whispered, and he set you on the ground, brushing stray hair from your face.

“I know. I know.” Peter nodded down at you. “Oh, god. Y/N, this is all my fault. I’m so sorry.”

“No.” You repeated sternly, finding whatever last strength you could. “No it’s not. I knew what I was signing up for.”

“Bu-”

“But nothing, Peter. I love you, and that will not change.” He shook his head at your stubbornness, smiling lightly down at you. “Thank you for saving me.”

“Let’s get you to a hospital.”

Firecracker.

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky Barnes/Omega!Reader.

Warnings: SMUT. A/B/O. Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Reader, bar violence, sexism, unprotected sex (Wrap your presents).

Word Count: 1700.

Rating: 18+

Masterlist

Tagging @sexylibrarian1 @thecrownedrose @ryverpenrad @papi-chulo-bucky @supernatural-girl97 @brokenanxiety @palaiasaurus64 @marveldcmistress @buckysomega @bladebarnes

Here have some Alpha!Bucky that no one asked for and you better enjoy it.


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Couple of gems from tonight’s session:

“You know me, overkill is my whole thing”

“Congratulations, you made a velociraptor puddle.”

“Wow, I really thought that between the three of you someone might have damaged the monster by now.”

“Your bag is full to the brim and dripping blood, but by god you harvested the drake’s heart.”

“My goal is to be bigger than whatever we fight. Always.”

“Let’s take some of the meat and cook it!” *the other players start chanting “RAGE STEAKS”*

I love my party.

“I’ve caught one,” the fisherman screams, grinning at his hook stuck in the girl’s cheek. “I caught myself a mermaid!”

Her hair is green, algae curled around it. The fisherman’s grip is greed, is lust, when he rips at it to get her closer. Her mouth glints like a pearl and oh, he could sell her after he’s - well, once he’s done with that beauty of hers. “Aren’t you a pretty one,” he licks his lips, “and all mine. I caught you, so you’re mine.”

All at once, her song ends. No sound comes out of her mouth that stays open, teeth tiny and many, sharp in the slick night. She tugs the hook out of her cheek. The fisherman watches, his heart burning from how fast it runs against his flesh, as her wound closes up and a bit of blood drips from her little mouth.

“Yours,” the mermaid says. The sea echoes her voice, an accent he can’t define, oh who cares, she’s just - just prey - and her pupils snap into slits. “Yours?”

The ocean ripples.

The waves tremble.

The wind whispers, smiles, then stills to not disturb the song that rises once more.
“No,” whisper a thousand voices, whisper a million teeth, whispers ten thousands of stares in the water. “We caught you. You are ours.”