Honestly want to talk about this here because this shot is horrifying and amazing. Like it's quite clearly Martin doesn't want to be there and he's observing his surroundings. Simultaneously it looks like he can't move at all. Props to Michael Sheen for somehow emoting without moving his face. My guess is that she's using some form of paralytics on him.
People keep on discussing the Misery parallel's and I can definitely see it. But also has anyone here heard of the film, Audition. It's a Japanese film about a man who auditions women to be his new partner. The women who wins is insane, obsessive, and uses paralytics on him while she tortures him with needles. Just thought that was interesting.
Also I find paralysis so much creepier than being tied up, and I love it. I hope this is the scene where Ainsley and Malcolm find him. Even though I know it's not.
"Paralyzed" for, hmmm...how about Strange, Sam, or Steve? Your pick. :D
YES! Paralyzed + Sam Wilson. This includes John Walker from TFatWS, but no real spoilers and you don’t need to know him to know he has a punchable face.
trigger warnings: captivity, blood, threat of death
Sam is unable to move. He’s in his own bed, in his own apartment, with his own things. But something is wrong. His body is unusually heavy. And he can’t move.
Groaning, Sam applies all his effort into moving his head. He just barely manages to turn it to the side.
And that’s when he sees that punchable face.
“Walker,” he sneers. “Whatever torture you have in mind, it can’t be worse than just looking at you.”
“It hurts me to hear you talk like that,” Walker says. All cheese and charm. “Really. I thought maybe we could be friends.” He says that last bit all hopeful, as if Sam might change his mind.
"You drugged me while I was asleep and expect me to be your friend?” Sam tries to move something, anything. But it’s as if his whole body were filled with sand. "Fuck you, man.”
Walker frowns. He steps on the rim of the shield, catching it on his arm like Steve used to. The sight of it sickens Sam. He feels as if Walker just shoved that shield through his heart.
No such luck. Walker lays the edge of the shield against Sam’s throat. It’s sharp, that shield, and when Sam swallows, his adam’s apple scrapes against it.
Fuck. This guy is going to kill him.
Sam focuses, really focuses now. He imagines his body moving, imagines ripping that shield from Walker’s hands and hurling it at him.
Sam only manages to twitch his fingers.
“Too bad.” Walker applies pressure and a thin line of blood beads across Sam’s throat. “You were a good side-kick to Captain America.”
Sam collects whatever strength he has and leans up into the shield. “Bitch,” he spits. “I am Captain America.”
The plan was to go get a ride to make Krel feel better. The akiridion had been pretty upset earlier---something about how Aja believes that she can control him just for being Queen. Yeah, Steve wasn’t planning to get into the middle of that, but he thought maybe some fresh air could’ve helped.
For once, the boy was right, because after some ice cream and a movie Krel looked as if he felt much better. The afternoon had gone well, they even decided to listen to some music on the way home.Then the other car appeared.
Steve, being the responsible driver he is, was the first one to notice it. He thought that the automobile was nice if he was being honest. It was a bright red, with black tinted windows. The person controlling it however, didn’t seem as focused. The blonde dismissed it though, he was sure it’d be fine. Right?
Within a few minutes, the light turned green for the boys, and red for the other side of the street. That didn’t stop the car from hitting the gas, coming straight for Coach’s own rusted car that held both Steve and Krel.
It wasn’t fine.
In an attempt to save himself and his younger friend, Steve turned the wheel in a panic. The car swerved left, and right, eventually turning over. All he remembers is holding on tight to Krel as the latino held on to him, the loud horrific screams, the blood, and the glass. Most of all the pain, as if death was on his doorstep--his back being the main source of his anguish.
Now, he sat in a wheelchair staring at the window outside his hospital room, his legs numb and unmovable. Krel was gone--nowhere to be seen after the accident. Of course, Aja was furious--not that she didn’t have a right to be. As for Steve, although he had fortunately lived, his spinal cord had been badly damaged, affecting his ability to use his legs. Or as the doctors had told his parents when they thought he was sleeping: he’d never walk again.
The boy sighed, taking one peek outside before deciding it was best that he go back before somebody got worried. People on the streets outside walked joyfully, acting as if they’d never had a worry in their life.
tw: sleep paralysis, hallucinations, insects, bugs literally inside your skin, choking/suffocation, something bursting from your body
It’s dark.
You don’t remember what you were doing.
All you know is that you’re laying down, it’s dark, and you can’t move.
You feel a small, tickling sensation on your hand. You aren’t sure what it is.
The feeling moves slowly upward, from your hand, to your wrist, to your forearm, to your elbow, twisting around your limb.
Like something was crawling on you.
You strain yourself in an attempt to move, but nothing happens.
You feel more moving up your arms and legs. They’re all over.
Your breathing quickens, and you notice your mouth is open. You try with all your might to shut your lips. Nothing happens.
The creatures advance upwards, to your stomach. You want to flinch, but you only lie still.
Some of them have buried under your skin. You feel them wriggling and squirming inside your flesh. They’re everywhere.
Your breathing quickens further as the insects crawl up your neck and onto your face. You can do nothing to stop them.
The taste is acrid as they crawl into your mouth and down your throat. You want to cough, but nothing happens.
The bugs pool in your lungs, in your stomach. You can feel your abdomen bulging with them. It hurts.
Your skin is pulled taut, but the bugs keep coming. You can’t breathe. It all hurts.
You try to claw at your throat. Nothing happens.
It all hurts so bad. You feel like you’re dying. Are you dying?
Suddenly, a sharp pain in your stomach cuts through the static, with a small release of the pressure in your abdomen. Then you notice the insects pouring out of you, covered in blood and flesh.
Your flesh.
You bolt upright ...only to find yourself in bed.
No bugs, no hole in your stomach, only air in your lungs.
National Hermit Day & National Cat Day & World Stroke Day
Person A suffered an injury/illness/etc. that immobilized them, but they found a way to transfer their spirit into a neighborhood stray that they befriended prior. Now Person A wanders their city as a cat, and is growing close to Person B, a stranger who feeds the stray and talks about their life to the stray. Person A wants to meet Person B face to face, but isn’t sure how to lead Person B back to their human form and doesn’t know enough about Person B to reach out to them themself. So Person A, as the cat, steals something of Person B’s and guides them to their human form, so they can talk.
Yeah it’s a prologue for the Whumptober prompts. It’s just how Creed ended up in the situation. Nothing much.
Next
Creed looked around under the cover of darkness. He’d been asked to steal an item for a client and they were willing to pay a lot 50 gold pieces as a starting fee and once he’d stolen the artifact from the merchant he’d get the rest of their pay another which was another 50 gold pieces. All he needed to do was to sneak into a mansion and steal an object. Lucky!
And here he was, scouting the area. Creed wandered around the compound a few times looking for weak spots. Finally finding one Creed quickly scaled the wall. Nailing the landing, he looked around for any signs of danger. Finding none he continued searching the backdoor. Quickly finding it Creed turned the doorknob testing if it was locked. It was but nothing a lock pick couldn’t solve.
Creed picked the lock and slipped in. The client had told them the artifact was kept in the merchant’s office and that it was in the east wing’s second floor. He carefully sneaked his way around the surprisingly empty mansion.
Creed finally reached the end of the hall and found the grand stairs, honestly, he had to admit that the architecture was marvelous, not really his style but still beautiful. Not that Creed had any time to marvel about any of that.
He peeked behind the corner and everything, just like the halls, was deserted. He pushed down the slight suspicion creeping into his mind in favor of the gold he was promised. Sneaking up the stairs was easy, he carefully continued sneaking through the dark halls. Finally arriving to the study. He pushed the door open. It creaked slightly, Creed winced at the sudden noise and knowing someone probably heard him he quickened the pace.
Slipping in the study he looked around where his prize would be. He looked around the study, it seemed normal, lots off books, fancy looking decorations and anything you’d expect from a rich merchant.
But he ignored it seeing the artifact on the. Creed quickly grabbed the artifact knowing the faster he was out the better.
Creed turned around, preparing to bolt. When he suddenly lost all control of his body and dropped limply to the ground with a thud.
Creed couldn’t move at all, laying on the floor of some bastard’s study. He tried and tried over again to move but his body didn’t listen and all he could do was lay there. As panic slowly set in, the study door creaked, and footsteps came closer. Creed cursed trying to move to no avail.
“It worked better than I thought” The person said amused, making Creed’s skin crawl. He walked up to Creed, whose eyes radiated fear and anger. He smirked at that,
“Good you already know to fear me, we’ll just have to work on that anger” Sick amusement lit up in his eyes. He walked closer, pulling Creed into a sitting position.
“I haven’t introduced myself yet. I am Silva Piers, but you will call me Master”
“We have some scores to settle, right little wildcat?” he said in a sickly-sweet tone. Lifting the tiefling’s chin up to look at him, then he smirked, “but for now enjoy some sleep”
“We all know you’ll be needing it” he said putting his hand over Creed’s eyes as the latter froze knowing what’s to come. The last thing Creed felt before the dreamless sleep took him was pure terror.
