Bimbo Goals No 14: Disposability. A bimbo strives to be pleasant, useful, pleasing and delightful. Her sole purpose is joy. Her heart is pure. Her agenda desire. Her goal passion, and her means beauty and bulging sweetness, protruding desirability, and insatiable happiness. She knows no secret. She wears her truth openly, her essence proudly, and advertises herself accordingly. In other words, permanent disposability is the not just the goal but a self-fulfilling prophecy and necessity.
Hello, I am back for annual whump 🌹I hope you’re doing well & glad to see you revive on here for what you do best! ♥️ It’s so hard to choose, but may I have Day 14 “Die A Hero or Live Long Enough to Become a Villain”, with Law, if possible? The prompts for that theme are intriguing (especially the dialogue snip). Thank you & take your time! ☺️
Also if there’s a point where there’s still a lot of open slots, let me know & I’ll send requests for your favorite bois, if you want >.>
Ahoy! Glad to see you back! I had a little difficulty coming up with the scenario for this one but once I found it, I had a fun time writing it! Thank you for your request (also feel free to send more in if you want 😉 )
Whumptober Day 14
Law x Reader
"This way, [Y/n]!" Law directed as he took the lead, turning a corner. "I know it's around here."
"Law, you say that like you know the place," you commented as you tried to keep up with him so you wouldn't fall behind.
"I do," Law confirmed taking another corner turn.
The two of you passed a wall of photos. Among the family portraits, you noticed a little boy who looked like Law standing proudly with the Donquixote family. You look back to your captain, unsure what emotion settles around your shoulders.
"I used to be a part of their crew," Law told you, not daring to glance in your direction. "I was a monster just like them. Doflamingo wanted me to be his successor, he raised me to be a monster, and at the time I wanted to follow that path. By some miracle, I was pulled from that life." Law slowed down when you passed a wall of hearts, you could see how he gazed at a portrait of a blond man with jester makeup. "I owe my life to the man who saved me from that hell, if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have been able to save you and Bepo."
"Law..." Your heart grew soft, fond of your captain, tears filled in your eyes.
"I heard them pass by here, get them!"
Footsteps echoed after you. The enemy found your trail and was now gaining. You could feel the edge you were running along.
"Don't worry, [Y/n]-ya, I'll get you out of here. " Law's words were beginning to sound as if they were his last.
Other elements started to disappear, your focus remained on Law. Your gut eating at your mind, saying something wasn't right. You caught sight of sweat dripping down your captain, it wasn't like him to lose composure. Worry crept inside your mind, yet just as fear got ready to send chills down your spine, Law stopped in his tracks.
"This is it!" Law walked up to a large painting of Doflamingo sitting on a throne and holding little Law by the shoulder. The surgeon removed the portrait and settled down next to where it once hung, there revealed was a vault door. He spun it open before turning and gesturing for you to get in. "Go on, I'll be right behind you."
"Are you sure?" You glance between him and the secret tunnel. "Shouldn't you-"
"I thought I saw them go this way!" The footsteps grew louder.
"There's no time." Law looked at you with urgency.
Knowing how much sand was running out, you didn't bother arguing and climbed in. It seemed small but you had enough room to turn around. You started crawling forward only to hear the sound of a door closing. You whip your head to the exit, Law nowhere in sight.
"LAW!" You called going back and banging on the door.
"I'm sorry, [Y/n]-ya."
"What are you doing? You idiot, you still need to get inside."
"This door... can only be closed from the outside," Law stated. "I know... from experience..."
You didn't have to see him to know the pained expression he wore. You placed your hand on the door, wanting to feel his warmth one last time, yet you were only met with cold metal.
"Law... you'll come back, right?"
Cora-san... you'll come back, right?
"I'll meet you in Zou. Now get out of here."
You heard the painting being put back in place, followed by the extra footsteps stopping.
"There! It's Law!" a man yelled.
"Come get me if you can morons!" Law provoked and you heard him beginning to run.
"Why you-!"
Shots fired, and the noises blurred together. You could hardly make sense of the events unfolding. Slowly the sounds grew distant, you could hardly hear the blasting guns. Just as you decided to turn to head down the tunnel, you heard one final sound.
Going back to my roots with this one - have some poetic Merlin angst.
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Merlin knows Camelot isn't the place for him after his first month, when the newness disappears and he settles into a pattern of helping Gaius and serving Arthur.
The stone of the castle makes his body heavy, and he wakes every day remembering the one time he fell asleep in the neighbor's barn and three sheep slept on him. He'd been warm, but the weight had made it hard to breathe, hard to move, and he'd felt trapped half the night.
Every night in Camelot fells the same.
He also finds himself oddly drawn to flowers and plants. Gaius would catch him absently fingering herbs still drying, Gwen shyly sneaks him a flower from Morgana's room on occasion. He craves the greenery in a way he doesn't understand, smelling flowers and sticking his head out of windows to catch the sight of trees. He loves heading to the pitch to watch the knights train because it means he can subtly touch grass and bask in the sun, his magic slowly spreading until it snaps back at Arthur's bark of his name. Merlin always feels bereft then, as if someone had slammed a door into his face.
Because that's exactly what had happened. He'd suddenly cut himself off from the natural environment he grown up in, cooped up and cramped and craving craving craving.
Craving the space to stretch. Free time and free will. Safe spaces.
There's none in Camelot, not even Gaius's chambers. His uncle's paranoia is infectious, Uther's propaganda oppressive. Soon, it's not just Merlin's magic that feels cramped and itchy and wrong. It's Merlin too. He wants out out out.
But at the center of that is a kernel of hope. Kilgarrah's words. They sounded like candy - sweet hope and a solid purpose – and were so easy to swallow. But it wasn’t dissolvable sugar. Those words sit in his stomach and they make him do things – he lies and hides and hurts. Those festering emotions sit in his stomach, and Kilgarrah’s words turn into a hard candy shell around them.
He can swallow the harshness because it’s surrounded by sweet words. He can hurt people, kill people, because it’s necessary for a better, honeyed world. But with each deed he does, each terrible thing that the candy shell expands to cover, to excuse, the pain in his gut grows and grows until it becomes a pearl of poison.
It’s not just Camelot that has Merlin trapped, it’s Merlin himself. Magic restrained. Morals turning brittle and bitter. Even as he saves Arthur week and week, he feels his blood getting more and more toxic. The boy he was is gone, drowned by blood and twisted by hope and crushed by stone-cold reality.
His mother gives him pained smiles. Gaius just calls him ‘my boy’ and offers hugs and advice Merlin takes even as he wishes it is different.
Merlin is drowning in a drought – no free magic, no happy days, no sign of Albion – waves of despair cresting higher and higher over his head while the dragon’s poison both feeds him and makes it hard to stand.
Maybe, maybe, Arthur will notice and swing open the floodgates of equality.
Until then, Merlin swallows his poisonous hope, his dream he’s done such dreadful things for, and wonders what will finally end things – Arthur’s sword or Merlin’s inability to recognize the boy he used to be.
Prompts: Die Like a Hero or Live Long Enough to Be the Villain, Desperate Measures, Failed Escape, "I'll be right behind you"
TW: general whump, treated adjacent to a dog, possible sexual implications (but not explicit or anything, just vaguely hinted at), broken bone (not graphic)
Summary: Continuation of my previous Witcher Whumptober Story I believe this is part 3 (?)
The next morning Jaskier wakes up feeling incredibly groggy, as if the sleep he got the night before wasn’t enough. A kick lands in his side, forcing him awake. Even if he wanted to sleep in, he doubts his captors would appreciate him requesting a few more minutes of sleep. He numbly allows himself to be dragged to his feet and led out of a cave.
The outside world smells like petrichor and fresh rain. If he were not currently being held hostage, Jaskier would definitely enjoy this weather more. Rain drizzles weakly down, but a glance east shows blue skies heading their way. Not sure if I’d rather get a cold from the rain or a sunburn. Jaskier thinks to himself as he is retied to the saddle bag on the Leader’s horse. The Leader walks away for a minute, but before Jaskier can even think of trying to escape, he has come back.
“I know what that look was Bard,” The man spits out, “Remember, if you try to escape I’ll be right behind you and you won’t like what the consequences are.”
Jaskier solemnly nods, then glances down at the ground. Thankfully the man doesn’t blindfold him today, allowing him to keep his eyes on the path and not trip as much as the day before. The Leader does, however, allow his horse to go just a little bit too fast for Jaskier so he has to run to keep up. When the horse does slow down, Jaskier allows himself to look up. By midday the clouds have slightly cleared and bits of sun peek through.
Eventually, the group stops to make lunch. To Jaskier’s dismay, they leave him tied to the horse, which in turn has its reins tied to a nearby tree. After watching his captors sit down and begin to eat lunch, he notices that he is just slightly out of their view, and there is no one set to guard him. Jaskier glances down at the ropes around his wrists, which have slightly loosened since they were put on yesterday. Fuck it! He thinks to himself as he forces his thumb to dislocate. He bites back a cry of pain, focusing instead on getting his other wrist free. He eyes his captors, and waits until they seem distracted enough, then he makes a break for it. Once I find Geralt, or the authorities, I’ll come back for my lute I promise. He mentally swears to himself, remembering what was brought with him.
Jaskier runs as fast as he can, downhill through the trees. “Just have to get enough of a head start.” He says between breaths. “They have horses, but…” He trails off, knowing that if he starts to think about it it’ll distract from his actual escape.
Jaskier hears shouts echo from over the hill and wills himself to run faster. “Goddamnit.” He curses himself, “What would Geralt say if he were here.” His eyes scan his surroundings for anywhere he could hide as he hears horses neigh and whinny in the background. “Fuck fuck fuck.” He starts to run again, dodging trees as best as he can, until his foot catches on a root in the ground. His knee lands on something hard and cracks, and he’s unable to hold back a cry of pain.
“Over here!” One of the men calls, “I heard something!” Horses race closer and closer to him as he tries to crawl away, even just to the bushes. Unfortunately, he can only crawl so fast and he is quickly confronted by the Leader.
“Tt, oh Jaskier,” He shakes his head as he jumps off his horse, “did you not hear what I said earlier about any escape attempts?” Jaskier drops his head into the dirt, his tears combining with it to make mud. “Grab him, please. Make it quick.”
Two other men jump off their horses and pull Jaskier up off the ground, forcing him to put pressure on his knee. His knee buckles beneath him, but the two men hold him upright. His hands are re-bound behind his back, so tightly his circulation is nearly cut off. A rope collar is slid over his head and tightened so it can’t easily come off. Jaskier bites back tears as the lead is handed to the Leader.
“I was being generous yesterday, Jaskier, I hope you know that.” He gives the rope an experimental tug, “But you decided to spit on my good will.” He shakes his head, tutting quietly. “And I won’t have that. So since you’ve proved you can’t be a good boy, I’ll have to treat you like a bad dog. Normally the punishment for an escape attempt like you just pulled would be a broken leg but….” his eyes travel down to Jaskier’s knee and how he isn’t putting any pressure on it, “it seems like you’ve already taken care of that for me.”
He yanks on the collar again, choking Jaskier slightly. “Now, if we want to make it by sundown we’ve got a lot of ground to cover. As tempting as it is to pull you behind my horse again, you’ve already shown you can’t be trusted. And that bad leg of yours would just slow us down. So I’ll let you ride on my horse until we make it to our final destination. Don’t worry, I'm sure you’ll find a way to pay me back.” He gestures for two of his men to help Jaskier onto his horse, then hops up behind him. “Giddyup.”
By the time they reach their headquarters, or castle, or whatever his captors call it, the sun has almost set. Dusk has settled in around them, paired with fireflies appearing intermittently and bats squeaking overhead. If he wasn’t too busy fearing for his life, the view would actually be beautiful. As the sun sets behind the vast mountain range, the sky has taken to shades of light pink mixed with orange. Dread stirs in his stomach as they ride through a large gate. All of the riders dismount and begin to untack. Jaskier is pulled from the horse and he lands shakily on the ground, falling into the man who pulled him off the horse. The Leader sets to untacking his horse, paying little attention to Jaskier who can barely stay on his feet. After he finishes putting away his equipment he turns to look at Jaskier.
“Gods you look awful.” He laughs, “Come along then.”
He grabs onto Jaskier’s leash--he can’t help but shiver as he calls it that-- and tugs him deeper into the building. Jaskier is led to a nearly bare room and shoved inside. The man follows Jaskier into the room and sets about replacing his rope bindings with metal ones. Shackles are placed around his wrists and ankles with chains that lead to a bolt in the center of the room. The man leaves for a moment without saying a word, Jaskier allows himself to relax, but before he can fully relax the man is back, carrying two more metal contraptions. Instantly, Jaskier recognizes one as a collar and begins to panic, backing up as much as his bindings will allow.
“No no no no please I’ll be good!” He begs, tears springing into his eyes, “You don’t need to put that on me!”
“Tch, you just don’t get it yet Jaskier.” The man shakes his head and quickly places the metal collar around his throat. “That’s okay, we have all the time in the world, soon you’ll understand.” Once he finishes placing a lock to keep the collar on Jaskier, he grabs the second metal contraption.
“What is that?” Jaskier nervously asks, his eyes darting from the contraption to the man’s grinning face.
“Well, I told you there would be consequences for what you did.” The man states matter of factly, “And since I can’t harm you too much, yet, this is the next best thing. It’s a muzzle.”
Jaskier’s pleading falls on deaf ears before it is cut off entirely by the placement of the muzzle around his face. Metal straps tightly wrap around his face, and a metal bit presses against his tongue, matched with a strong piece of leather to keep his mouth shut. The man finishes attaching the muzzle, then pats Jaskier’s face and smiles.
“Now don’t you look pretty.” He turns to go, then pauses, “Don’t miss me too much.”
The door slams closed behind him, followed by the sound of locks sliding into place. Jaskier slumps against the wall closest to him and finally allows for the tears he’d been holding back to fall. Eventually everything that’s happened over the past 48 hours catches up to him and he can’t help but fall asleep.
Prompt: Under Pressure (crush injures, beaten, force)
Fandom Naruto
Characters: Tenzo and Kakashi
Rating: T
Words: 873
Notes: Requested by @vibgyoroygbiv
The deafening roar of falling rock filled the cavern, rumbling and echoing through the darkness. Kakashi tried to draw a breath through the pain in his lungs. The explosion had thrown him forward, and he’d lost all sense of where he was. He’d tumbled across the ground, finally coming to rest against one wall. Thick dust and rock debris filled the air and made it hard to breathe. For several heartbeats, Kakashi coughed and wheezed in an effort to clear his throat. Then, silence surrounded him.
Pushing to his feet, Kakashi choked out another breath. “Tenzo?”
The younger man had been only a few steps behind Kakashi, urging him to run when they saw the explosive tags. They’d walked in a trap with the cave, but Tenzo had seen it in time to save both their lives. Kakashi called his teammate’s name again, reaching for the flashlight in his pouch. Thankfully, it hadn’t been broken in the collapse, but it still took banging on the bottom a couple times to get it turned on. He really should have checked it before they left Konoha.
Kakashi blinked at the passageway, a heap of broken rocks and dirt. He flicked his light across the damage, searching for a sign of Tenzo. Pain drew his attention, and he glanced at his right shoulder. The skin had peeled away when he skidded across the ground, leaving an angry red rash behind. For now, Kakashi could ignore it.
“Tenzo,” Kakashi tried again, the vestiges of panic starting to swirl in his gut.
A soft, muffled sound reached Kakashi’s ears, and he moved toward it. Rocks blocked the way, but he pushed them aside when he could and scrambled over when he couldn’t. “I’m coming,” he murmured, focusing on not causing a second cave in.
Kakashi rounded the corner and found Tenzo sitting against one wall of the cave. A thick crack ran across the cat mask that covered the man’s face and blood splattered his silver chest plate. Kakashi exhaled in relief. “Come on,” he gestured toward the way he’d come. “We need to get out of here.”
Tenzo’s chuckle held more than a touch of pain. “I don’t think I’m getting out of here.”
A deep rumble accentuated Tenzo’s words, and a second wave of dust flooded the corridor. Kakashi flicked his light over the man’s body. Ice slid through his veins and he fumbled his hold on the flashlight, dropping it beside him. It lit the surface of the boulder that trapped Tenzo’s right leg almost up to the hip. The man chuckled weakly. “Yeah.”
Kakashi’s vision doubled, overlaying the image of Tenzo with a much younger shinobi. He heard Rin sobbing in the distance, felt his own shock and pain with a force that made it hard to breathe. The smell of blood and death hung in the air. Kakashi couldn’t draw enough air, the room shimmered at the edges. He crouched, frozen by the repetition of his worst nightmares.
Something warm caught Kakashi’s forearm and squeezed. Obito disappeared, his sharp features melting into Tenzo’s softer ones. The man tried to smile, but the wince of pain revealed the truth. “You should go,” Tenzo encouraged, coughing through another dust induced spasm. “We don’t know how long this will hold.”
Another rumble shook the ground, showering the pair with bits of stone. Kakashi shook his head numbly, still crouching in the same spot. “I’m not leaving you. Don’t ask me to do that.”
Tenzo coughed, wincing when the movement jostled his leg. “The whole place will come down if we move this one.” He jutted his chin toward the precarious mountain of rocks above him. “See?”
Studying the uneven structure, Kakashi sighed. He shook his head as panic closed over him a second time. “I’m not leaving you,” Kakashi repeated.
Tenzo smiled with bloody lips. “It’s okay. I’m thankful for the time—”
“No,” Kakashi growled, fingers flying through signs before his conscious mind caught up with them. He sank into the ground, disappearing into dirt and stone. Judging the distance, he caught Tenzo’s body and dragged him through the earth. The scream of pain tore at Kakashi’s ear drums, but he didn’t stop.
Seconds passed in hours before Kakashi resurfaced. Tenzo hung from his arms, head dropping to the side. He couldn’t worry about that either. The rocks that had crushed Tenzo’s leg shifted, but held for the moment when they reappeared beside them. Headhunter jutsu took a lot of chakra, but Kakshi would happily spend what he had left. He fumbled Tenzo onto the ground, trying to ignore the ruin of blood and bone that was his right leg.
“Hang on,” Kakashi murmured, pulling a strip of cloth from his pack. He wrapped it tight around the man’s thigh and secured it, cutting off the blood flow. Kakashi didn’t know if it was enough, or even if it was the right thing to do, only that it would stop the bleeding. His fingers pushed under Tenzo’s jaw, feeling the too fast beat of the man’s heart.
“Don’t die,” Kakashi whispered as he scooped Tenzo into his arms as gently as possible. “You’re all I have left.”
A distant rumble of tumbling stones answered the plea.
