#LIKE NO HE WOULD NOT TELL PEOPLE HE WOULD KILL THEM IF THEY TALK TO MITSURI

[sangunary]

Yandere Batfamily × other dimension Reader.

SYPNOSIS: Your other family are willing to kill to have you... So is your orginal family.

>Part 1< >Part 2<

The world you have left was turned into ruins in a matter of months. Barely any crime in the street of Gotham since the so called hero's were taking that job trying to find you.

The night became more dangerous than ever since they were willing to ruin their prestige reputation to bring back their lost bird.

"Tell me where the fuck they are before I blow your brain into pieces!"

Jason threatens the poor boy with guns against his head ready to pull the trigger if not satisfied.

Amongst the family Jason was taking it the hardest, he was already violent as he was but your sudden disappearance was taking a toll on him...

"I- I don't know anything! I swear... Please just don't kill me please!"

The boy beg as wet tears stream down his cheeks.

Nobody was safe now, their hero's have turned against them.

Even the Justice League were trying to reason with Bruce but he wasn't very willing to hear them screech about what justice was.

He wasn't batman at the moment, he was a father searching for their young one that have gone astray... He wasn't going to loose his precious bird because some freaks in costume tell him to forget.

A father that could not die at peace knowing he practically left his own child to rotting from the inside.

"... Kid you really are getting on my nerves."

Jason threatens as he push the cold end of the gun into his forehead, fingers dangerously close to the trigger.

"I don't know... I promise you... I don't know anything about her... Please..."

The kid's wept harder, their face contorting into one of sorrow and desperate in one frame... Their hands trembling badly as they hold onto Jasons hands as he was holding them by the back of his shirt leaving him off the floor. If the boy weren't to be holding onto the savage man he would he chocking.

"Kids... I have no problem shooting that clown in the head for joking around too much... What makes you think I would treat you any differently?"

Jason voice was loud and clear as the boy just couldn't stop sobbing.

Yes, it is true that the Joker was killed. More than one hand were tainted with blood. The rage of a bird is intense and brutal...

Suddenly the comma began to ring, prompting Jason to drop the kid flat on their ass. As he listened to the signal carefully.

"I have a trace... Everyone at the batcave, fast"

Barbara words were demanding and seem slightly anxious which was never a good sign. Ever since your sudden disappear she could barely get herself to get out of her operation room.

You used to stroll her around all the time and she wouldn't even notice you during those days. She would rather talk to herself than to you and personally asked you to not speak so she won't get agitated. Now she missed you badly.

She have been going through thousand of files, looking through files of anyone who have a criminal records, they don't have to he a major criminal... People who are arrested for playing loud music are also under her watch..

For month's she would send them out to meet specific rodents in hope of finding whoever was responsible for your disappearance. She doesn't always sit behind large tecnology she would also go out and beat some rodents in your name.

Jason was ready to leave but not before he turns back and look at the kid who was sweating profusely... Couldn't even look at his shadow due to fear.

With a bang the kids clenched onto his left leg which was bleeding profusely after Jason shot at it...

"I marked you down so don't ever think of doing anything I won't like. Cause next time your head would be display infront of your family..."

With that said he jump off the building going towards the batcave.

Jason was being extremely out of character even he could see that. He was protective of kid's especially one that reminded of him... Excluding you.

Whenever he saw your face he just can't help but be irritated. You remind him of himself as a kid, your big guilty eyes... How excited you were and all the others... You were just like him.

He shouldn't have taken his anger out on you for being a better version of himself.

He would avoid you like the plague, make your day worse than it had to be and how he made sure you'll never get the mantle.

He hated Tim for replacing him and he despite you for being happy.

He planned for weeks on how to make sure you never get that mantle... which was also a twisted way of getting revenge on Bruce.

He had broken your leg which was on accident. He was aiming for your spine but you moved and he shot at your knees instead.

Although he realised even if he didn't shoot you, you wouldn't inheret the mantle cause you were deemed too 'odd' by your father.

Bruce was originally going to re-home you since you were not fitting for the family, but after Jason shot you Bruce realised he had to take responsibility as his son shot you.

If it were to he anyone outside the family that were to shoot you he would still have re-homed you as soon as possible. So your presence could be swept under the rug faster and alot more efficient.

Inside the cave was gloomy as usual, the lingering smell of iron was strong and the air purifier were working extra hard.

"There's a problem in the multiverse..."

Barbara started.

"Again?"

Dick asked, he was wearing his usual black and blue uniform no red stain yet the strong sense of iron was coming off of him.

"It is unlikely but there is another way..."

They all listen to her patiently, concern about your well being and what kind of dimension you are currently on.

On the flip side, you were just having the best time.

Everybody cherished you, loved you. And you definitely took advantage of that.

Your scare were slowly healing just by being with the right people.

"Aha! Caught ya' birdie!" Before you could even process some words Dick pick you up. You forgot how strong they were since you never interact with your other family.

"This is humiliating get me down!" You struggle but not enough force, he was picking you up like how the monkey from lion king did to Simba.

"Do not fling her across the room! I demand you let her down this instead Richard!" Damian spoke as there he was holding pillows from Tims room.

Duke who just entered the room just look around and sigh, stealing the pillow that Stephanie was resting her head on.

"...Oh so you want war huh? Bring it on yellow ranger" Stephanie with a smirk stood up as she instead reach for the towel which was beside her.

"That's illegal... You have a machine gun and I have a knife? What kind of war is this?"

Before Stephanie could continue somebody throw a pillow with all their strength combined towards her. She stumble and plop down on the couch as she looked at the person.

"That's... what you get for taking my coffee, you witch"

Tim stood confidently near the entrance, his arm crossed as he glare at Stephanie who smiled without any guilt knowing damn well what she did was an unwritten crime in the family. Which nobody follows.

Before Stephanie could throw the remote at him someone else throw a literal a book at him which... unfortunately land at him hard.

"I've always wanted to do that..." Jason spoke as there were more books in his hands. The book's were for children under 4... a nursery book which was given to him by Tim each birthday of his...

Unfortunately the books were thin so it wouldn't hurt him much.

"Hey! that's illegal! Ganging up and using hard material is against the law we made!"

You watched as Stephanie throw a pillow at him, headshot. You couldn't help but feel the warmth crept up your heart and throughout your body.

"I-" "Æ!".

Dick thrown you onto the couch without warning as he was getting ready for war.

"What the fuck, Richard?"

You asked as you rub your back, for being young your back do hurt like it's about to retire already.

"Don't worry little wing... This bird won't hurt you..."

Dick assured you as he picked up a pillow that was laying on the ground.

"You dare to protect me from my blood... You've chosen the wrong blood to messed with..."

Damian dramatically spoke as you couldn't help but be abit entertain. It was like watching a theater kid's role-playing free style during break hour.

"This is like claiming a vulture is related to a Robin... Eitherway birdie you won't live to see that glorious light of victory. Cause I, the gre-"

Before Dick could continue Damian throw an award worthy throw at him, he stood tall and prideful as he look down on the older brother.

"They are worthy of sharing my blood, they woll be recognised as such"

"G-"

Before Tim could finish Damian throw a devastating hurl at him which made Tim to kiss the floor again.

"You should learn to shut that mouth of yours, Timmy"

Jason suddenly decide to give Tim some word of advice but after that he just dropped all the kid's book ontop of Tim.

Stephanie too ended up throwing a blanket which she pulled out of thin air at Tim who was hugging the floor.

Beneath the perly mansion lays a secret, underneath the Wayne manor the batcave was there... Bruce, Alfred, Cass and Barbara all together.

"Cass you will be by their side at all time... We do not know when or whom will come here to take her."

Bruce spoke, his eyes still on the large computer that was set infront of him. The screen show a picture of you, dna, background and alot of personal records.

"Yes, Will protect her. At all cost"

Cass replied, she was still in her usual indoor clothing but it still made her look badass. Barbara who was sitting on her wheelchair gave Cass a quick smile to reassure her that you were going to stay.

"Those alternative version of us clearly made it clear that they won't stop at any cause to have them... They won't be so spoiled here.

Barbara continue as he gave Bruce some files... which documented every single detail of how the glitching worked and your actual family problems.

"How about the rest? We can't just not tell them"

Barbara added another thing on her curiosity list.

"They're well aware, they'll stay her one way or another... And get rid of those ungrateful heros..."

[13tinysocks]

My Dead Girlfriend

Days pass. Patience grows thin. Deathbed talk begins. You pull the last straw and are taken somewhere new.

[Invincible Varients X Reader]

[Part one]  [Ao3]  [11] [13]

12 * Two Inches? [9.2k]

"Nice, nice!

Are you a virgin?

Nice, nice!

What color are your panties?"

Nice Nice - Dazey and the Scouts

        "We need to tell everybody." He couldn't look away from that massive white thing. Hard-shelled with soft, crabby flesh underneath. His mouth watered just looking at its twitching mandibles.

        From behind him, "No."

        Baldie turned, brows pressed together. "Why not?"

        Phantom watched him, feet away, keeping eyes and ears out for approaching company. No one was coming.

        "(Y/n) likes you." He says instead of answering directly. "If you ask her to come with you alone, she will." 

        Baldie's mouth fell open. Now he was starting to get it. "But... You just said all that stuff about not splitting up."

        "Because I had to." Phantom said, modulator softly echoing off the cave walls, "To keep the peace until we could talk. This is the safest way to do it."

        "We can't just keep this from every-"

        "You saw what those two did to her." Phantom cut him off, surprising even himself, "How easily they took her from you. I had to get her out of that situation. We only survived because they decided they were done playing. Do you really want her to be around people like that?" His throat itched. Vocal cords thin and raw after ten seconds of jabbering. 

        "Then we tell everyone but them." Baldie reasoned, though the voice in the back of his mind agreed. To take the hoard that was you and run.

        "If we're all together, they'll find us. It has to be just us." Phantom finishes, cards splayed across the table, hoping Baldie would fold.

        Baldie's mouth opened, closed, opened, closed. He knew he should do the right thing. Refuse. Tell everybody. Band together, kill Lensless and Scars with everybody else. Establish peace. Live with and eat bugs forever. Find friendship and understanding in the only person who could really understand what he went through- the other versions of himself.

        But he just couldn't. 

        He'd waited four years in hell only to find your bones. Watched you be civil to the others, Viltrumite loyalists and enforcers and leaders. It made him sick, the idea of you with them. Any of them but him. Phantom must feel that way too. 

        He was no fool. Alternate motives were guaranteed in a situation as suspicious as this. "How long have you known about this place?" Was double-speak for, 'Did you find this before or after we ate a guy?'

        "Not long." Phantom lies, "Three days." 

        Baldie nods shallow before spinning, neck cracking like a whip. "You're only telling me this now because, what? You think I'm stupid? You think I'm easy to kill?" 

        Phantom backed up, hands raised defensively. "No." He says, shaking his head, voice small, hunched over, feigning doe-ishness. 

        "What's stopping you from killing me when I bring her here?" Baldie's prowling closer now, fists clenching, "What's stopping you from just taking her yourself? Why are you telling me this?" Veins pop out on his scarred neck, pulse throbbing in his clenched fists. He's still angry about you letting Lensless and Scars go. He doesn't want, he needs to hit something hard as he can.

        "Because you can make her happy." Phantom says, "And I can't." That makes Baldie pause. "I wish she liked me the way she likes you, but I know it won't happen. I'm okay with that. I just want her safe." It's a lie but a well-told one.

        Baldie relaxes but not fully. "If you ever fucking try to touch her, I will kill you." He only says it because you're not here to hear him say it, because he couldn't say it to the ones that hurt you. Then and now. He had dreaded coming home from prison and you being scared of him, his appearance and the scars that festered underneath. But the you now wasn't scared, you were starting to cherish him. He was afraid now, of fucking it up a second time. 

        "Understood," Phantom said because this is exactly what he wanted.

        "I-" Baldie took a breath, squared his shoulders, "I also need some time to figure this out. This," the bug queen, the cathedral, the never ending cache of food, "is a lot." But most of all, he needed to figure out how to tell you.

        ***

        Your phone was gone. Off the rock you'd left it on to play music and die on. You'd asked around unhurriedly. Not like it'd be any help but the comfort of something not from this shithole was alluring. Something to hold and know you had existed before this and would hopefully exist after. But nobody knows where it went. Though Lensless (when you saw him next) claimed he took it and tried to get you to force him to tell the truth. You didn't even try.

        Gray was dodgy, not about the phone, but about you. He couldn't seem to hold conversation with you for more than two seconds at a time before flying off somewhere with something better to do. He'd always been that way, but he'd been shorter with his words and was staring at you a whole lot more. Despite this, he wasn't a suspect. You doubted he'd want anything to do with your phone, even if it was working.

        You were rotting and they all saw it. You couldn't explore long. The torches you'd been making out of soaked, then slightly dried wood and cloth never last longer than a half hour. You couldn't go to the surface, ceiling too high to even consider scaling out of. Not like any of them would let you anyway, not with Scars and Lensless roaming the wastes during the day. Hiding out somewhere hidden so those who wanted them dead couldn't even kill them in the daylight. Or maybe they were hiding, waiting to pick them off one by one. No one knew what they were planning. 

        Scars and Lensless always came at night because they'd yet to find another source of food. The peace was paper thin. They ate and didn't attack or kidnap you. Your horde of bodyguards let them stay in the shade for a few hours. We don't hurt you and we get to eat. Not exactly an even exchange.

        Personal agendas were always thick in the air now. It was only a matter of days until the food was gone. They could go without awhile, but as soon as you began to starve, there'd be another death and another. Everyone was planning to be the last one standing, to die in the desert with you. The truce wouldn't last much longer but for tonight, nobody mentioned it.

        Gray marked day twenty on the wall. He kept count for the sake of rationing. Meager scraps of what hadn't rotted remained. Only you would eat tonight, the small hard pieces of Emperor jerky that always got caught in your teeth a reminder. 

        Hopelessness isn't in the air, it's already sunken in, become a part of each of you. People were starting to think about dying or finding a way to make this all work long term. But without food? It would not. 

        The deathbed talk started lightly, a reprieve from their thoughts and the empty expanse around them. 

        "I could really go for mom's chicken parm." Maskless says, watching you nibble on small pieces of Emperor meat.

        Tracksuit's mask fluttered when he laughed, "Your mom cooked?"

        "Yours didn't?"

        So began talk of Debbie Grayson. Another universal constant, but she was dynamic through the multiverse. Tracksuit talked about a distant figure he never liked much. Maskless implied kind acceptance, the love some of them yearned for. She stood up to Nolan and died for it. Mohawk laughed in his face. Bragged about how he came to your world partly to kill her himself again. 

        "Did you?" Omni asked, sounding suspiciously interested. Like he'd had a similar idea.

        "Nah." Mohawk kicked at the ground. "Wasn't home. Any of you dicks find 'er?"

        Nobody had. 

        Lensless claimed a weak, once loving mother who stepped aside when the Viltrum Empire came to Earth. Struck by grief at the death of her husband at her child's hand. They lived together through the change Viltrum brought to Earth. What was left of it after the slaughter Lensless brought down. She was a ghost. Wasting away as the world was rebuilt into a utopia. The last time he saw her, she was hanging in her closet. He said this lightly, with the same smile he always wore.

        Scars grinned at the story, told them that Debbie Grayson's body would never be found in his world. Left it at that. No one wanted to know.

        Gray was confused by all of this. The death. The alien versions of his, "Mother raised me on Viltrum." Turned heads. "She likes it there."

        Baldie stirred, agitated by the idea. Mom was good, she was just. She was taken from Earth just like he was. Brought to Viltrum, not in a cell, but still imprisoned. Dad gave him updates in between beat-downs on his cell floor. She had stopped talking, stopped eating, had to be put on life support to stay alive. Nolan refused to pull the plug. He kept his wife unwillingly alive as a self-inflicted vegetable. Baldie wished he could've escaped another way. Seen mom one last time, taken her off that horrid life support and let her rest in peace.

        But he kept his mouth shut. He felt if he opened his mouth at all, the cave secret would come spilling out. He hadn't figured out how to tell you. Where to tell you. When. How you'd react.

        Phantom hadn't spoken at all since he'd talked with Baldie those days ago. Something about Mom and Viltrum made him spark, contempt thick in his voice. "As breeding stock?"

        Gray turned to him, "That's not what I said."

        "Dad said that's all humans were good for," Phantom said.

        ***

        "Is she with child?" The Viltrumite doctor asked as they all stepped into the sterile room. White on white on white. Technically, only Mark needed to be in attendance for his physical. There had been plenty of appointments since he was the first human-Viltrumite hybrid and the Empire desperately wanted to know how he was developing. But his parents came, they always came because they cared. Humanity's customs had rubbed a dent into Nolan's character. The other Viltrumites didn't approve but he still conquered planets, if not more effectively than before- excited to return to his family.

        "No." Debbie said firm. "We've already told you, we're not-"

        "You brought the human woman to breed did you not?" The doctor looked square at Nolan. Debbie was beneath him. 

        "I feel it's better to focus on Mark until he develops his powers." Nolan said as Mark climbed onto the table for a full body scan. He was seven, small for a Viltrumite boy his age but Debbie was sure he'd hit a growth spurt soon. 

        The doctor watched numbers flash on a screen. Mark's vitals, muscle and bone density. Hardly different from a full blooded Viltrumite. "He will soon, Nolan. It would be prudent to begin procreation immediately."

        "I said no." Debbie snapped. 

        The Viltrumite doesn't turn to address her. "You should consider your mission on Earth a great success, Nolan. We were unsure of human-Viltrumite compatibility before, but by the time he's developed his powers- he'll be strong as a full-blood. The Empire thanks you for this knowledge."

        "Uh, yeah sure." Nolan internally wilted at his wife's hard stare. "But you don't need me to have more children do you? There's so many Viltrumites and humans to do that for me."

        The doctor's hands balled to fists. "You know?"

        It's a secret Mark isn't privy to. Debbie isn't privy to. Nolan knows. There are only fifty full-blooded Viltrumites left in the galaxy. Their bloodline thinning in other mixed races. The Empire is weak, desperate. Mark the greatest success yet. 

        "Yes," Nolan said.

        "Then you know what you must do."

        ***

        "There are other humans to do it for him." He says, the parallel is like a hammer to head. The population of Viltrum had thinned further since then, but there were still others to carry the mission. He could just... No. No, he couldn't defect like that, it wasn't like mother. The Empire wouldn't even allow you to be considered if you couldn't procreate. Even if he wanted to, he was stuck in the desert. No way of returning to his Empire. Still, he looks to you and finds a cringe he feels the need to reset. "The parents of our hybrid children are not forced into what they do. It is bad for the child's physical health if some human practices are not done during pregnancy and early development." Only in hybrids. Viltrumite babies weren't so needy. Remembering himself, a tiny, keening and a desperate thing, made him embarrassed to not be full blooded. 

        Your expression only worsens. You did not like that. He is confused, what he said was very humane. He left out the part that humans were selected by health and fertility, that many did not meet their qualifications. Some did not wish to serve the empire, so they would be killed until another was found. Rinse, repeat. After awhile, all participants are willing.

        "Wait." Tracksuit's accent cut the tension. "You were on Viltrum from day one, yeah?"

        "I was born there." Gray said, proud. It was like a badge among the lesser versions of him. 

        Tracksuit's fingers snapped. "That makes so much sense!" Gray doesn't ask, so Tracksuit continues, "You know, why you're taller than the rest of us!"

        Looks were shared. "He's not-" Then. "Wait- Hey! Stop hovering for a second!"

        Gray, who perpetually seemed to hover above the ground except for when he slept, did as requested. Gasps rang through the cave. Marks stood beside him. Hands going from the top of their heads to the middle of Gray's chin. All of them were the same height, except for Gray. Two, maybe three inches taller than the rest.

        There was outrage from some. Gray did not care. Height did not matter on Viltrum, through he suspected his difference was due to a different level of gravity throughout his lifetime. Odd, yes, but he can only focus on you and your faraway expression. What were you thinking about? Were you not impressed with his height? Didn't Earth women like taller mates?

        He is so focused on you he nearly doesn't catch Phantom's quiet words.

        "She'd rather die than live on Viltrum." The whole time he'd been simmering, building up the strength in his throat.

        Gray looked to him. Saw past his modulator and mask, and knew he was a hurt, aching, little boy on the inside. One he could've been, had he not been raised to be strong on Viltrum. Gray pities him, but feels no compassion. A bleeding heart was just that, a bleeding heart. Weak, soon to die.

        "Your mother is dead, yes?" He says more than asks. It's a guess, an educated one. The human-raised among his ilk were too transparent with their feelings. 

        Phantom jerks as if struck, voice a growl like what he says will hurt him. "Dad killed her." 

        Weakness. "If she resisted, then it had to be done. She was not strong enough for The Empire or your father. My mother was, and she still serves The Empire." He says as if his mother didn't only have one child. As if he didn't cherish growing up surrounded by his parents love and attention. She had not done everything she should have for The Empire and he still loved her, his father loved her. He too was weak, but unlike Phantom, would not show it.

        Phantom bristled under the mask. Tense. Ready to strike. But he looks at you. Remembers what's at stake. Forces himself to relax.

        Mohawk's cackle hurts his ears, "Maaaaan! You can't be sayin' that shit to this dude!" His thumb jerked toward Phantom, "Dude looks like a school shooter!"

        Phantom took the abuse on the chin. He'd take all he needed to because soon enough, he'd show them all.

        ***

        Scars and Lensless touched down, made their gross, sexual commentary. Toed the line. Maskless built the fire, Gray marked day twenty-two. 

        You eat beside Tracksuit. Friendship an undercurrent you keep hidden at these fireside. The others would be weird, territorial. Scars and Lensless might fucking kill him. You hoped they didn't hear you pour your heart out to him about Mark. Knowing your luck? They probably had.

        Another night of tension. Conversational scraps. No one had found anything in the caves or the desert. Until.

        "Alright, I'm bored." Mohawk shot a pointed finger your way. "I gotta know, how was he in bed?"

        You almost drop your jerky. "Excuse me?"

        "You heard me. How was fuckin' Daddy's little clone?" 

        You'd been avoiding the topic for days. Avoiding Omni for days. He had his own cot now, had for days, but he pushed it right up next to yours. Sleeping next to one another, ignoring his chatter, trying to get him to sleep on his cot and not roll onto yours in the night. All you cared about was if he would kill you or not. Since he wasn't trying, you didn't need to talk to him. Still, he tried. Over and over to catch you out alone and you continued to dodge. Using your powers to get someone else to be around. He was smart and knew the others shouldn't know. Liked keeping a secret between you both, until he didn't. 

        "I told you twelve times already, we didn't have sex." Your lies sting him. The first time you denied it, he didn't mind. It was survival. But now? You sounded grossed out by the idea of him inside you. As if your body hadn't been begging for more. As if he hasn't tasted you on his fingers. 

        "Sure you didn't." Mohawk snickers. "Yelling at him for that long?"

        "Dude," Tracksuit swallows a wad of meat, "I'd tell you if she was fuckin' some guy. It's like, bro code man."

        Mohawk snorted, "I'm just sayin', if we were alone for that long? You would not be yelling at me." His brows do a stupid jig on his forehead. You want to throw your jerky at him but you needed it. You'd used your reserves for the day on shutting Scars and Lensless up for an extended period. They seemed to come to the fireside just for your control. Work it out until your nose bled or you passed out, then leave into the night.

        "If we were alone that long, I'd kill you." You say.

        He bit his pierced lip in a grin. "I'd like to see you try."

        "Say that stupid shit again and I will."

        Omni had had enough. The secret was doing no good for your relationship. He said loud and clear for the whole desert to hear, "Is it so bad that I made love to my wife?"

        Your jerky finally drops out your hand as you stood. "You-"

        Mohawk slapped his knee. "Knew it! I knew it!"

        "We didn't!" You glare at him, trying to stop him with your eyes. 

        Omni levels you with a too-serious glare. "We did and it was beautiful."

        "No!" You hands go to your head. You do not have the energy to deal with this.

        Mohawk clutched his chest, laughing so hard he may vomit. "Him! Him first?! Ain't no way!"

        Your control on Lensless and Scars snapped. Lensless shot up, arm raised, "Me next! Me! Pick me!" While Scars watched you with a small, knowing smile. He'd already known. Guessed or heard somehow. You could never tell with this freak.

        "Oh God." Tracksuit ran a hand under his mask. 

        "Wait." Mohawk stopped. "What about bro code? Were you in that pussy too!?"

        "No." Omni said at the same time as you.

        The unity made Mohawk stop laughing. Taking stock of the situation, the way you stood in front of him, trying to mask your anger in a way you wouldn't if he was lying. If he was lying you'd make him jump into the fire, but you just looked anxious now, barely contained. 

        "You actually fucked her." It's not a question. Omni didn't joke. "I should cut your dick off." Mohawk wanted to say little but considering they were the same person? Definitely not little.

        "You will not." Omni says, smile cocky enough to make them all bristle, "But I didn't need it."

        Mohawk's hands go to the shaved sides of his head. "Fucking-!" He'd done plenty of that in his day, especially since your death to fill the void. If anyone knew about meaningless sex it was him but you fucked him, another version of him, and not him him. It was a total betrayal, a slap in the face, a Coalition of Planets data pad under the mattress. 

        Nothing seemed more healing to him then being buried in your pussy. Negging you was flirting for him. He was just trying to get in your pants, then your heart. He'd thought the teasing would bring you closer together. He'd had a plan but now all he wanted to do was kick Omni's ass for existing. 

        He stood. Omni stayed seated. "Do you really plan to attack me, Little Man?" Mohawk doesn't see but feels his eyes flick up and down. It was obvious who the scrawniest was out of all of them, Mohawk himself. Nothing to sneeze at in terms of physique but compared to Omni's brick wall body? He stood no fucking chance.

        But he knew his physique didn't matter, that he was more durable, better than all of them combined. And he wouldn't take such a insult in front of you. 

        "Yea-"

        "Take a breather." You say. Mohawk shoots hard into the night. You hold control long as you can. 

        "I appreciate the assist, my love but l-"

        You hold up a hand shutting him up. "I'm not your love or your wife. That was the whole fucking point of what we did." You turn to the rest, the official news hitting them all at once. "And if any of you assholes have a problem, I'll send you out until you can act like adults. Jesus Christ." 

         Gray felt strangely disappointed. You couldn't help the repopulation effort but you'd still had sex just to have sex. Why? He never understood why his parents did what they did. Never got to lay his version of you down himself. Baldie tells himself you're only human. Needed to let off steam, but he angsts anyway. Lensless and Scars look to each other. Seeming to physically brew up punishing ideas. Maskless didn't care. Tracksuit hoped Mohawk wouldn't come back and murder him over an assumption.

        Phantom sat content. Upset, yes, but content knowing this information would push Baldie further to his side. All evidence of Omni's mark on you could be erased anyway- once Baldie was out of the picture. If everything went his way no one else would touch you ever again.

        ***       

        You sat on the ground in total quiet. Alone for the first time in forever in the central cave. You couldn't remember who was on babysitting duty or where they'd gone. You continued knitting garbage together on your bare arms. Everyone had a cot now, but you wanted a blanket that wasn't Omni's cape after that shit he pulled last night. You'd slept against a carved bench by the fire while he tried to call you to bed. You ignored him until the only sounds you could hear were the fire and your teeth chattering.

        You were exhausted and your whole body ached, and every time you fucked up the technique, you swore. It'd been getting harder to keep your emotions in check. You were always partly starving, bored, afraid for your life. You were fraying at the edges and didn't know how much more you could take. 

        "Hi."

        You nearly jumped out of your skin. Falling forward, scraping your elbows on the cave floor, garbage fabric falling to useless shreds on the ground. You twisted, ready to bark out a kill order.

        Phantom stood. Hand poised like he was going to touch your shoulder but thought better of it. 

        "What?" You gathered your limbs under yourself, trying to look more composed. 

        He notices you're slow to do so. You were not as afraid of him as the others. Unsure, reasonably so, but not enraged by his closeness. This was a good sign. 

        He reached into his belt. You'd never seen him turn out his pockets, had no idea what was inside. Mind racing that he was going to pull out a weapon, superhero murder gas or something of the like. Instead, he holds a small flat disc. No larger than the center of his palm.

        "For you." He held his hand out, palm open, waiting for you to take it.

        You ogle the thing with a frown. "It's not going to cuff around my wrists right?" You remembered the thing he'd thrown at you in Sydney. What you guessed it was but it was never confirmed to be. Remember what Scars had brought with him to subdue you. You suppress a shiver.

        "No." He says, smile soft in his voice. "I used this when I knew I didn't have the time to follow a suspect." His thumb pressed on the disc's center and out popped a suction cup. Another press and it was smooth once more. "I did a lot more work for the GDA than the others."

        He assumes anyway. Those lazy, immoral rats didn't care about the planet most of them grew up on. Not like Phantom did. He did everything he could to protect it. He still remembers what Dad said to him that horrible day. A sneer as he said  "his hobby was cute," right after leveling their family home, after killing you. Just remembering spiked his heart rate. 

        He forced himself to breathe. Be level, calm. He held his arm out a little further but didn't dare touch you. Careful not to set you off, the poor, scared little mouse that you were.

        "Or," he started, nervous under your attention, "to keep covert operatives safe." He flipped the disc on its side, slid a hidden track down to reveal a slim red button. "Press this and I'll be alerted. I'll come right away." He slid the hidden compartment shut and waited.

        He wanted to keep an eye on you. Keep you in the palm of his creepy hand. He wanted to...

        You were always in the same place. Always under threat of Scars and Lensless suddenly swooping down and snatching you up. This wasn't about stalking, it was about protecting. After all, he had saved your life from them, and your own stupid mistake. 

        You took the thing, slow, like you were scared if you moved too quick his predator instinct would spring and he'd grab your arm. But he holds himself perfectly still. Feeling the euphoric thrill that is your fingers grazing over his palm through kevlar. When your touch leaves, the sensation lingers.

        You turn the thing over and over in your palm. Testing the weight and muttering, "Where was this a few days ago?" Before sliding into the pocket of your soldier pants. Its weight is near imperceptible but you feel it tugging at your hip. A real, solid comfort. A promise.

        You realize you're being an asshole.

        "Thank you." You say. Hoping he doesn't take it and his promise of protection back. Machine Head was always so quick to take privileges like that away. You worried but a lightning speed pick-pocketing doesn't occur. You relax. "For this and the other day. Those guys are uhm..." You look up through the porthole as if they'd be there waiting. They aren't. You don't want to jinx it. "It's good to have someone like you on my side."

        He nods. All talked out for the day. Chest ablaze with the praise. 

        "It's good to have someone like you on my side."

        He picked up your trash and re-knit it before you could think about doing it.

        "It's good to have someone like you on my side."

        He brought Gray's cache of trash to weave closer. Sat by your side and passed you pieces as you went along. Quietly enjoying your company.

        "It's good to have someone like you on my side."

        ***

         Dinner tonight was a broth of Emperor's bones to be sipped out of cups of dry clay Gray baked in the sun. He only made bowls for those two because if he didn't, they'd have an excuse to drink from yours. It was not that he cared for your comfort, why should he if you couldn't help him complete his mission but... There was no mission in this wasteland. He tells himself he's trying to keep the peace, to do the most rational thing in a hopeless situation. You were needed for morale, the others and not his of course.

        You tilted the bowl to your lips and let the poor excuse for hot soup slide down your throat. Scars watched your throat bob. Wanting nothing more than to drink the liquid out of your mouth after a long day of desert dwelling with Seven. He settles for drinking his own share.

        Scars is watched himself. Nobody trusts him not to try and take you to the sky again. Maybe even take you away for good. He hadn't made his move yet, but it was expected soon. For tonight, he did the same thing he had for the last week.

        "Stop avoiding the question, Dregs." Piss you off on purpose, asking personal questions and making assumptions about your previous life. You didn't understand why he did it. You always shut him up and he was too pussy to attack even with Lensless in a room full of your personal bodyguards. Sometimes you thought he was getting off on bothering you, on not letting you have any sense of peace. But he barely fought back, letting you shut him up and bite back.       

        "Be quiet." And he was. Thank God.

        Your nose hadn't started to bleed yet. Your powers should be weaker from eating less and less these last few days but you were on a roll tonight. 

        "Why are you getting so defensive?" Lensless baited. "We've been plenty vulnerable with you about our lives. Why can't you do the same thing for us? Just tell us who came up with the name!"

        "Leave."

        The cave whooshes with a rush of air. The kindling scattered to the floor. Regathered by Omni before they can burn themselves out. You nod thanks. The cave was insulated from desert night chills but it was no camping trip, you needed the fire. 

        You feel your control on Scars start to slip. "Stay quiet." You close your eyes. Feeling power loosen on Lensless, even at a miles distance. By now, his mind is free but his body is not. You focus. Try to keep them both evenly controlled. You'd never had a workout quite like this. Regular human beings were so easy to control you were unused to challenge. Hadn't even had any resistance from non-psychics until that day on the roof. You wouldn't say it but the exercise was welcome but you almost started looking forward to making fools of them over the nightly bonfires- showing them all you had something they couldn't control. You.

        While you were focused, Mohawk hits you where it hurts. "By all means, leave those dickheads in the dark but why not tell the rest of us? We're buddies by now, yeah babe?" He knows your hold would break if you added another Mark to the roster. You can shut those assholes up, but not him.

        "None of your business." You grit out through ground teeth. Feeling Lensless's mind wriggle in your hold. You clamp the mental prongs down.

        He really shouldn't agitate you but you'd been avoiding him for days now. He just needed you to look at him again after that moment of union in the caves. "I think it is," Omni says. 

        Mohawks brows shoot up in surprise but he takes the advantage, willing to work with anyone if it meant getting under your skin. "See, babe? Everyone wants to know, even this shithead."

        You scowl at Omni, concentration waning. Scars mentally slashing at your power with steely claws. 

        "Shut up." 

        "Think of it like a campfire story, ya'know. You can even change the names around if ya want." You don't budge. Mohawk pouts, "Come oooonnn, I showed you mine, you show me yours isn't that how the sayin' goes?"

        "I said," your eyes snap open, control gone from the others, "shut up."

        It's Mohawk's turn to go quiet. Lensless returned to the fire in a snap that again, scatters the wood. The fire is restacked before you notice a change in light. 

        "Idiot." You tsk at a finally shut up Mohawk. 

        "Did I miss anything?" Lensless asked.

        "Just our dear Dregs getting defensive over the tiniest of questions." Scars said.

        "I'm not defensive." You say, defensively. 

        "Then tell us." Mohawk goaded. Your hold already gone with your concentration.

        "Yeah, I wanna know why you're so hot and evil and stuff." Lensless said.

        You scowled. None of them were stopping this line of questioning. Why the hell was Mohawk working with Scars, who he tried to kill last week, to get information out of you? Why the hell weren't Phantom or Gray stopping this?

        On the flip side, Phantom wanted to know. He knew you'd be upset if he asked. But the cool-headed image of him in your head wouldn't crack if he stayed quiet. When you stopped being angry you'd think it was survival move to stay quiet. Not speak against the majority.

        Gray shouldn't let the tensions rise, he knew, but you were so vexing. All he needed to do was let the others crack your brain open for him.

        Baldie tried to stop it, weakly. "She doesn't want to talk." Said as a mutter because he craved knowing all of you, but knew if he said nothing, you'd be pissed.

        "Stop white-knighting, dude, she's not gonna fuck you." Mohawk said and that shut him up. Fighting all of them was a stupid idea. But leaving in a huff, leaving you alone, was a stupider idea. The best thing he could do was sit by your side as silent moral support. Back your play.

        "I'm not fucking any of you." You say.

        Mohawk scoffed. "You fucked Wonder Boy over there."

        You lean forward, elbows to knees, "Yeah, and not you." That made his smirk crumple.

        He forced it to bounce back. "Not yet."        

        "Mmm, no." You say, a lilt in your voice, "Thing is, I just don't think you're all that attractive." It's a lie but one you try to sell. Happy to bruise an ego. "I never thought the Mark in my timeline was either. With him," you jerk your head toward Omni, "I just needed stress relief and we were in the dark, so who really cares?"

        Mohawk's lips purse like he'd sucked a lemon. "Funny you say that." He shifted, pulling something out of his back pocket. 

        Your phone. Caligula's belly flashing on the lock screen, fully charged.

        "Give me that." You don't want to waste what power you have left, not yet. "How is that even working?"

        "No shot." His shit-eating grin returns, "You could'a been explorin' the caves all this time, playing your stupid music-" Your eyes shift around, wondering who told. "We got crazy tech in these suits, babe. I had Art put a phone charger in mine cuz I kept missing your calls while I was workin' and you'd get pissed!" He slid the phone into a seam on his bicep, surly enough the charging sound dinged. He pulled it out. "-But you didn't think to ask cuz you're such a prissy bitch."

        "You want to call me that again?" It's a dare. 

        One he doesn't take because he has the upper hand. "So I started goin' through ya phone." He flips it to himself and unlocks it with a swipe of the thumb. "Can't believe your passcode's the same." He laughs, tapping at the screen. 

        "Oh no, you beat my Tetris Lite high score." You say, because there's nothing incriminating on your phone. Aside from vague text chats with Machine Head and Isotope. "What's your point?"

        "I'm so glad you asked." A few more taps and he where he wanted to be. An old photo album automatically downloaded to your phone from the cloud. You never looked at it, never cared to. Images carried over from your old phone before Machine Head issued you a new one, decked out with all sorts of encryption tech for secure messaging and calls. You didn't need pictures of your old work schedule or study notes from high school. But you never found the time or energy to delete them.

         He flipped the phone over, stretched out his arm and panned the image around the circle. Letting everybody take in the truth. You, five years ago, kissing Mark's cheek, him grinning stupid at the screen. Your third or fourth date, the best so far. It had been your lock screen for months. 

        "Still think I'm unattractive?" Mohawk smirked.

        Caught red handed. Your words catch in your throat. All of them processing what you had been to Mark. Even in the vaguest terms. Their hopeful puppy dog eyes. The memory of being happy and younger. 

        Mohawk started swiping through the pictures. One after another, in the short moments after the first. A cheek kiss to a lip kiss, the both of you blushing and smiling. "Doesn't this bring back memories, babe?"

        Phantom feels his heart melt. He'd taken those same photos with you. Lensless had too, though with a lot more tongue. Baldie had too, but he'd been too shy to go in for a kiss on the lips. Omni was never one for selfies, thought they were a waste of time. But that didn't stop him from collecting photos, asking friends or strangers to snap some when you were out. He remembers you making fun of him for how serious he always took it. Mohawk had plenty pictures of you on his phone that he hadn't brought along. Mostly of your eyes looking up at him pleadingly, lips stretched over his cock, tears messy on red cheeks. He was deeply disappointed not to find anything similar on your phone. Scars didn't know you young, but liked where this was going. The look on your face, the rage, the humiliation- oh so sweet. 

        Gray did not have any photos of you. Photos for fun weren't a thing on Viltrum. Tracksuit had plenty of nudes on his phone, mostly of himself. Now, he was glad he hadn't brought his phone. A little glad he was witnessing true reality TV trash in real time but still, he felt bad for you but- come on, drama like this doesn't come around every day. Maskless watched on less enthused. Here we go, more het-slop drama. Fantastic. 

        "Give me that," you warn low, "give me that right now." You're saving your power now. Strategizing how to hurt him best in one big burst. 

        "Or what? You'll tell me to shut up?" He swipes through another photo. Mark's back to the camera, your head over his shoulder, locked in a hug. "Man," he whistles through his teeth, "you've got a lot of these. Wanna know the best part?" He asks the others, not you. "These are years old and she still has 'em-"

        "I meant to delete them!" You can't help the outburst. 

        "And I went through 'em all, we stop showing up right around..." He stopped at your last photo of Mark. "Here. 'Bout five years ago," according to the photo app metadata. Mark sat across from the camera at a fancy dinner table. He was late to his own reservation, leaving you embarrassed and feeling like an inconsiderate dickhead. But when he came with roses in hand and you forgave him right away. You'd never been on a date like that again because not long after- you were through. 

        "Shit," Lensless took the phone, Mohawk let him have it, "We rock a suit, huh?"

        Scars leaned over his shoulder. Frankly disgusted by how sweet his own face could look. "Rocked her right after this picture was taken I wager."

        "No!" You should kill them all. Like, actually. You couldn't do them all at once though, you were deciding who to hurt.

        "Why haven't you taken any pictures with him in that long, huh?" Mohawk went on. "Trouble in paradise, babe? You know, you'd never have any with me." Bullshit. 

        Omni took the phone out of Lensless's hand. Swiped through the photos himself. You looked so sweet, so happy, and alive. Nothing like you did now, with your dead-tired eyes and permanent scowl. He knew what happened to you in vague terms, the jail sentence and the subsequent assassin position. He jumped to the conclusion that this dimensions version of him was a stupid fuck up who didn't put a ring on it, and couldn't protect you from the world. He'd given up on you like a fool. But it was lucky for him, he supposed. He knew for sure now, despite your denials of his love, you could and would love him back. One day.

        "We were friends." You lie back, "He was just affectionate-"

        "Friends?" Mohawk cackles, "Yeah, cuz I tongue-fuck all my homies. Really, babe? I thought you'd come up with something better than that. What? Are you embarrassed?" Clearly, you were. "Cuz you kept alllll these pictures after he broke up with you?" It's a guess but dead on. 

        The quiet rage is confirmation enough. 

        There is a collective internal glow of pride in everyone. You were in love with him at some point. Some part of you kept the evidence. You could love him back, the collective thought. Save for Tracksuit and Maskless, who were both thinking this was a little much. Who both felt bad for you. Who both knew they'd rip Mohawk's skin off if they were in your shoes, but make no move to do so.

        Mohawk didn't know when to stop, slinking forward to get in your face. "Aww, baby... Are you still in love with him? That's so stupid and sad."

        "Punch yourself in the balls. Hard as you can."

        You feel a rush of air and he's on the floor, writhing, clutching his family jewels, tears pricking the edges of his eyes before you can process your nose starting to bleed. You wobble on your feet, avoiding Baldie's balancing touch. You turn to Omni with Gray hovering behind him. Feeling things he couldn't truly explain.

        You say, "Crush it." Before you consider that you'd need the flashlight.

        Glass and metal splinter to the ground. Omni opened his hand, impressed you controlled him like that, but he doesn't think it'll happen again. Blood is coming out your nose in thick drops now. You wipe them away with the back of your hand. Head starting to throb as you walk slow, purposeful back to Mohawk. Still groaning. 

        You kneel. Everyone falling away but the two of you. Him in sweet, glorious pain, and you high off his agony. "You wanna know who gave me that name so bad?" His face is to the ground, trying to hide how much it hurts like the tough guy he is. You grab his hair in your fist, pulling his head up easily because despite everything, he'd always melt in to your touch. "You did." 

        They want answers so bad- they'll get 'em. 

        "My boss Machine Head, that robo-dick I murdered- he took it and ran with it because it upset me. You said I was the dregs of society- something stupid like that- and left me to rot. He thought it was so funny Dregs, his de facto murder-torture guy, isn't that nice? I was his favorite, you know? Machine Head always had these fucked up requests and I'd do it because I didn't care. I knew he wouldn't check, not because he trusted me, but because he knew I had nothing else. One guy, I made him skin himself alive with a potato peeler. Got pretty far before his body shut down. Another, I made him choose who to shoot first, his wife or his mistress- they both died, yeah, but man, him turning on his wife like that? Crazy." You didn't mean to ramble but you were. You were just so pent-up and angry, that a reminder of your Mark, the life you could've had, had you unwinding yard by yard. It was easy letting their flawed logic win for once, and it felt damn good. They had hurt you. 

        "I could've been something. When I met Cecil, he wanted me to work for him. Mark could've made that happen, but he let me fuck around New York murdering people for some drug-running robot dickhead." Mohawk's eyes began to clear of pain. Were rapt on you and your anger and how transparently awful you were. "I loved him so much, and now-" He's looking at you like he loves you and you hate it; say the nastiest thing you can think of, "If I ever get back, I'm killing his family, starting with that dumb bitch Eve. So no, you stupid motherfucker, I'm never going to love you and I'm never letting you fuck me." 

        You stand, emboldened by the silence. "Any more questions?" You only look at Mohawk. Curled, clutching his balls, but slowly, purposefully smiling at you.        

        "I think that about covers it." He says, voice weedy. 

        "Can you do me next?" Lensless asked.

        You were sapped of power. Couldn't if you wanted to. You also shouldn't, he'd cum but still, he'd hurt and you wanted them all to hurt. You say nothing, gather up a premade torch. Held it out to Tracksuit to light with friction- much quicker than the fire that didn't much like damp-ish cloth. He does, no questions asked. He'd also want to take a hike after all that. 

        You picked a cave and started. Not before saying, "Fuck you all."

        Then you were off. You don't let yourself stop and cry until you were triple sure you were out of hearing range. Even then, you go further, further, until your torch burnt down to the quick and singed your hand. You drop it, clasping the skin, crumbling to the ground as the first angry tears sprang forth. 

        You hated them. You wanted them to die but you needed them to survive. Why couldn't they just be normal? Couldn't they understand you were a different person? And now they knew your dirty secret. Sure to hold it over your neck like a guillotine.  

        You'd scream but they'd hear. Come running. Come mocking. So you sob as quietly as you can into your hands. 

        "I'm sorry he did that to you." He says. 

        You jump. Grab the smoldering remains of the torch off the ground and throw it at the voice, despite how it burns your hand. "Go away!"

        The torch bounced off Baldie's chest, fell to the ground, all light dead on impact. 

        "I know you're upset but..." He knows Phantom is near. Lurking. Can hear his mostly disguised breathing. He'd left after you when the bickering fizzled and Lensless and Scars left out of boredom. Phantom followed because he knew- Baldie had made up his mind.

        "Upset? I'm not upset!" You forcefully rub at your cheeks. "This is nothing."

        He frowns, though you can't see it. "I have something to show you."

        "I don't care." You say. "I don't want to see anything that isn't Mark's dead body. Okay? Just-" You take a wobbly breath, "Fuck off. I can't do this anymore."

        The admission almost pulls a sob out of you, and you have to fight to hold it in.

        "I know," it's soft, "I know, that's why I need to show you. You don't have to see any of them."

        You're fighting to hold in sobs, barely processing what he says, "Please. Just go." 

        "(Y/n) I-"

        "Die." You splutter without power, "Just drop dead or go away. I'm done." Soon as the words come out your hands go to your head. You almost did it again. You didn't want him to die, not really. 

        The sobs come harder. You're hysterical. Soon to crack and scream and then he wouldn't be alone with you anymore.

        He scoops you up in his arms. Apologizing, keeping his grip gentle as possible as he flew deeper into the caves. Back to the hidden entrance he'd visited and re-visited since Phantom told him of its existence. You beat your fists against his chest, his neck, his face, but he couldn't be angry at you. He was angry at them for making you feel so low.

        He doesn't speak as he moves the rock, floating inside, and sealing the tomb behind you both. He sees Phantom's silhouette as the rock slid flush to the wall. An agreement passed quietly between them.

        You heard movement, unable to place the exact sound. Like Styrofoam peanuts squeaking past one another. But there was no way there'd be Styrofoam peanuts here. You blink, looking around but seeing nothing in the absolute dark. The air felt different here, wetter, smelling of sod and sulfur. 

        "One sec." He said, floating down to the ground with the least amount of creepy-crawlies. In the times he'd come back, he started the beginnings of a camp. Stole away supplies from Gray's material cache to make your own cots. Picked a spot a few feet up from the bug rivers where you could watch but be in no danger if you decided to hop down and explore.

        He clacked two rocks together. Sparks rained as the fire pit he'd built lit. He blew, added more kindling from the pile he'd prepared, nurtured the fire in a matter of milliseconds. The light illuminated the cavern around you, but your eyes could barely process what you were seeing. 

        You were beside her, yards away. Sat in a high chair at her bug court. The massive white thing that was some mutated sand-mite-termite-whatever-the-fuck queen. She did not notice or care about the fire. Did not mind your sudden presence. Her mandibles twitched as her children flitted in and out of her mouth. 

        "What the fuck?"

        Your brain doesn't even think of food. Water. Too stuck on the giant bug. But you know what it means, these are the first living creatures you'd seen since arriving over three weeks ago. 

        "We can stay here." He says soft behind you, sure to give plenty of space for you to process. "We have everything we need." You don't reply, jaw dropped open, taking in the sight. The bugs skittering in and out of their dens set into the walls. "You don't have to go back and deal with them ever again."

        It's like a dream come true. Too good to be true.

        You don't feel yourself speak. "They'll come looking."

        "They haven't found this place yet and if we stay quiet, they won't. But I'll be honest, I didn't find this place myself. Someone else did."

        You turn, eyes wide, "Who?" God, don't say Scars. Don't say Lensless.

        "He wants to tell you himself." He knew it'd matter to you who it was, but Phantom asked him not to tell. He was cagey about why. "But he's helping us. I think tomorrow he'll stage your disappearance and join us. It's nobody bad, I promise." 

        "I-" You look back to the bugs, undulating below. None of them cared you existed. Minding their own buggy business, not begging you for sex or love or attention. If Baldie brought you here they were likely not venomous. They didn't attack or swarm or even run away. "We'll really be safe here?"

        "I'll make sure of it." He said.

        Something in you breaks. Resolve or dignity.

        Because you lunge at Baldie, tears returning. Stuff your face to his chest, arms going tight around his forearms and middle. The hopelessness that'd become a part of your everyday slowing leaching out in his hold. 

        "Thank you, thank you, thank you," it's muffled against his chest. His arms wriggle easily out of your hold and drape over your back. He pulls you closer, inhaling your scent, feeling your skin, and is at peace.

        "It's alright, I've got you."

[lucy-literates]

Unspoken Things

A/N: my requests are open :) and we love slightly jealous Bucky

Synopsis: Bucky Barnes gets jealous when someone flirts with you and doesn't know how to tell you.

The bar wasn’t exactly his scene, but Bucky came anyway—mostly because you asked.

He stuck to a corner booth, nursing a beer he didn’t really want, trying to pretend he was listening to whatever Sam was saying. His eyes kept drifting back to the bar, where you were talking to some guy with a Wall Street smile and too much cologne.

The guy leaned in closer, saying something that made you laugh—head tilted back, eyes bright, completely unaware of the way Bucky's stomach turned at the sight.

It was stupid. You weren’t his. He had no right to feel like this.

But he did.

He clenched his jaw, looking away. The glass in his hand creaked faintly beneath the grip of his vibranium fingers.

"You know you’re being obvious, right?" Sam said, low enough only he could hear.

Bucky didn’t answer.

“She’s allowed to talk to people.”

“I know,” Bucky muttered.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Then why do you look like you’re five seconds from throwing that guy through the wall?”

Bucky stared at the wood grain of the table, voice flat. “Because I don’t know how to say what I want without messing it up.”

And the truth of it sat heavy in his chest—he could survive the war, the brainwashing, the decades lost to HYDRA. But this? Watching you slip just a little further away while he stayed silent? That might be what finally broke him.

If looks could kill, the man who just put his hand on your hip would be dead. Sam looked at Bucky, concerned, wondering how much more of this Bucky would endure before he walked over there himself, or left completely. He chose the second option, standing up. His chair fell back and would've hit the floor if not for Sam's fast reflexes.

You looked over to where the boys were sitting, only spotting Sam, who made eye contact. You mouthed "Where's Bucky?" and Sam just pointed at the door. You excused yourself from the handsy man in front of you and headed for the exit. Sam sped up, to walk beside you.

You walked out to see Bucky taking the car keys from the valet. You and Sam jogged up to him just before he got in the car. He looked at you both and just said "get in". You got in the front, Sam in the back, just buckling up as Bucky sped off. His flesh hand was white knuckled on the steering wheel; his metal one was close to causing indents.

You got back to the tower, Bucky parked the car and didn't bother waiting for you or Sam, stalking off to the elevator and heading up to his room.

You went back to yours, bidding goodnight to Sam. You took your time showering and getting ready for bed. You laid there, thinking about what happened at the club.

Next thing you knew, you were standing in front of Bucky's door.

You gently knocked 3 times, the door was pulled open as your third knock finished. "how-" you started. "Super soldier hearing, I heard you walk up to my door" he deadpanned. He opened the door wider and let you in, closing it behind you.

"What happened?" you asked him

He sat down on his bed and looked up at you. "What do you mean?" he challenged.

"I mean" you started, slowly walking closer until you were stood in front of him "What happened tonight? Why did you leave like that?" You were directly in front of him now. His fingers twitches with an itch to place them on your hips. He balled his fists instead.

"I didn't like watching that man touching you" He whispered "It made me angry"

You chuckled, and he looked at you, bewildered, "Is it funny?" he asked. You shook your head, figuring out what he meant by being angry. "Was the normal angry, grumpy kind of feeling, or was it an intense kind of angry?" he looked confused "intense".

"Thats jealousy, Buck"

"It's not-"

"You sure?"

"No"

He looked down at his lap. Your fingers came to rest under his chin, tilting his head up. You sat down in his lap, giving him no choice but to hold your hips, and kissed him.

It was slow, gentle at first but became much more intense.

"I wanted to do that a long time ago" he confessed

"I know"

[hopleii]

mha boys with dead reader hcs . . .

content: angst. thats all im saying LMAOO jk. katsuki x reader, izuku x reader, kirishima x reader, headcanons, angst, reader is dead, not proofread and was written with jeff buckley playing in the background so its probably broken sentences because im on my period and sobbing rn

a/n: i wanted to cry but i also wanted to make it everyone's problem

KATSUKI

becomes louder in every way to block out the grief.

trains harder, yells louder, angrier, more explosive...but nothing blocks the pain out. it's louder than his biggest explosions.

no one notices that he's hurting, though. they think it made him stronger. and he thought that too.

one day, he was training with kirishima, headphones on and blasting his hype music, but he forgot to put the shuffle feature off.

mid-spar, your favorite song played. you added it as a joke but he never removed it because he wanted to see why you liked the stupid song so much

he pauses, looks at kirishima, and walks away. he sat on the bench, hands cradling his face

it's no use, though. his calloused hands will never replicate the feeling of the warm ones that were yours.

looks through your phone sometimes because you gave him the password.

he always looks through it, looking through the photos you took, your notes app

all were full of so much love. so lovely, sweet, and so awfully you.

watches all the reels or videos you sent but he never watched because he was too lazy. he regrets not watching them.

IZUKU

stalks your profile.

it brings him peace and sadness all at the same time.

peace because it's like everything was frozen in time---your posts of happy moments, unforgettable memories, it's like everything is still there. immortalized and frozen

but sadness because he knows you wont post anymore, because he knows you won't gain new memories and happy moments.

your contact is still in his phone, and he refused to let your chats be buried, so he pinned your contact.

backreads everything and when he gets to the top/the first message, he regrets not talking to you enough.

everyone is telling him to move on, to pick himself up, that he has the whole future ahead of him. but he doesn't want to see that future without you being there to witness it.

he still tries, though. he tries so fucking hard to keep it together because he knows it's what you'd want.

unlike most people who try to forget, he doesn't. he doesn't want to forget anything.

he still has you on his wallpaper and lockscreen, your photobooth photos still on his phone case

he's scared of forgetting what you sound like, because your voice always gave him comfort.

replays all the voice mails you sent him, even if it's just you screaming into the mic.

KIRISHIMA

soft, quiet grief. it's quiet, but all over the place. like everyone can feel a bit of the pain he's going through.

still friendly and fun, but his smile never fully reaches his eyes.

when he's doing something and he needs to grab something, he still calls out for you.

"babe, can you get my--...oh."

struggles dyeing the back part of his hair because he got so used to you doing it for him.

he often forgets you're not there anymore.

whenever he passes by a coffee shop, he'll pull out his phone and text his location. but before he hits send, he remembers.

when he's shopping for himself and he finds something he likes, like a jacket maybe, he looks over his shoulder expecting you to be there, because he's so used to getting your opinion when buying new things.

STILL TEXTS GOOD MORNING OR GOOD NIGHT.

whenever he's with friends, he's not ashamed to insert you into the conversation

"y/n would've found that funny", "hey, don't talk like that. y/n would kill you." "fuck, i miss y/n."

tried to date again ONCE and it lasted 2 days because he couldn't stop talking about you.

he's never getting over you. you will always be his greatest love.

© — hopleii

[wistericallhystericall]

how would you kill someone? (hypothetically) | theodore nott

theodore nott | crack treated seriously | wc: 1542

summary: writer!reader dating serial killer!theodore nott warnings: kinda references murder and torture, nothing really explicit more than that (if it helps, all the people theodore kills are evil evil death eaters so it's more so just vigilante shit)

“Sorry that I’m late.” a voice murmured behind you.

Your eyes darted to the voice that was coming from behind you—the thick Italian accent coming from someone’s soul like the sound of a cello and tuba coming together for a beautiful, classical symphony. The man standing behind you had eyes that called to you like a siren’s call, a sharp jawline and curled hair that framed his face perfectly. 

“It’s only been five minutes.” you giggled quietly to him, a small smile gracing your face. “I got here early so I could write some things.”

The man looked at the notebook in front of you before nodding quietly, sitting down across from you and shaking your hand. “My name is Theodore.” he murmured quietly, looking at the menu for a moment before over at your notebook again. “Your profile said that you write.”

“Mhm.” you smiled at him. “Horror stuff, kinda?”

He hummed quietly and leaned forward just a bit more. “What kind of horror?” he asked curiously, looking over the pages of the book you were writing in. 

“A murder mystery, kind of?” you explained to him, smiling widely as you got the opportunity to talk about your book. “It’s a bit hard to explain, since I just started plotting. I have this other book that I published, but this one is a bit of a more cohesive plot.”

Theodore leaned his head on his hands with a curious expression as he looked at you. “Tell me about it.”

You felt your smile brightening even wider at that. “There’s this killer on the loose that’s going through a kind-of hallucinatory issue—he’s using it to justify his murders since he’s thinking of them as something else. And the narrative switches between his killings and this team that’s trying to catch them despite what the majority of the police team believes about him.” you began, flipping through different pages in your notebook as you began to show off different characters.

“How does he usually kill people?” Theodore asked you curiously.

“He’s basically torturing them in different ways to make them repent—that’s why most of the police departments are justifying his murder, because of the homeless and druggie groups that he mainly targets. Though I think I’m going to research him using pigs as a method of disposal.”

Theodore hummed quietly at that. His body was sitting up a bit more inside of his chair, heart pounding a bit at the connection that he was feeling. “That sounds really interesting.” he murmured quietly.

“I know right?” you giggled quietly. 

“How would you kill someone?” he asked you. “Hypothetically.”

“Well, I’m not a big fan on actually committing torture—contrary to what my book would lead you to believe.” you explained to him as you placed your notebook down. “And I doubt I’d be good at removing evidence either. I maybe could do an air shot between the toes though?” 

“Yeah?” Theodore asked breathlessly.

You nodded thoughtfully. “Well, it makes it look like a heart attack.”

Theo sucked a breath in at that, his heart pounding against his chest like a drill pounding into concrete. God, he could already feel himself falling in love with you. “That sounds effective.”

“What about you?” you asked him curiously.

Theodore shrugged quietly at that, though his heart and mind were anything but. “Maybe something with a cleaver. I work as a butcher, so it’d be easy access.”

“I bet you could chop a body up really well.” you giggled, eyes finally looking over the menu.

Theodore chuckled warmly at that, arms crossing over his chest as he looked over his own menu as well. “I think I could do a decent job,” he murmured. 

“God, I hate writing.” you groaned out.

Theo looked up from the book that he was reading towards your frustrated face. Your eyebrows were furrowed so close together that they might’ve fused together, eyes shooting darts into your manuscript while your hands pulled your hair out of its follicles.

The two of you had decided to go on weekly dates ever since your first, clicking so easily about darker topics that it was almost impossible to avoid each other. Theodore had even started seeing you during his work hours as well—where you would coyly walk in and order two cuts of steaks with an innocent smile and battering of eyelashes. 

What you didn’t know was that his nighttime profession was aggressively resting people into their graves. Death Eaters that didn’t deserve to live, sure, though he doubted you would listen to his vigilante excuse.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured quietly.

“I feel like there’s going to be an FBI agent that bangs down my door any second now,” you groaned out. “I keep on having to look up ridiculous things for this novel I can’t easily find anywhere. Like, how am I meant to know how long it would take for someone to die if you stabbed them between the guts?”

“Two to thirty minutes,” he answered you calmly. “Depends on more specifics things like organ damage or access to medical care, obviously, but that’s a general range you can work with.”

You looked up at him with a soft sigh escaping your mouth—though Theodore wasn’t quite sure why just yet. “Really?” you asked him.

“Oh, yeah.” he chuckled quietly, looking up at the ceiling as he began to explain the process. “If you damage an artery or vein, it’s kinda over immediately. But if you want your killer to torture them, he might want to stab somewhere near the intestines and leave them to get an infection. Especially if the knife used was messy as well—though they’re more likely to survive a dull knife than something like a serrated knife. Plus the depth matters too, and also the—”

“I think I’m in love with you.” you murmured quietly.

Theo looked over at you—eyes widening slightly before a small chuckle escaped his throat. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you whispered quietly. “Keep going?”

He paused before laughing more fully at that, putting his book down and moving to sit down on the couch you were sitting on. “Okay, where do you want to start?”

Theodore was working in the butcher shop today, knife in hand as he slowly and methodically cut through the beef cuts. He was focusing on the loin of the cow currently, slowly trimming off the New York strip steaks and cleaning off the tri-trip.

He had to take off his gloves for a moment, washing his hands before checking why his phone was vibrating inside of his pocket.

YOU: I don’t know if this scene works out YOU: It’s kind of annoying me, tbh YOU: Like why is writing torture so hard?

Theodore chuckled quietly at your messages—looking around to make sure nobody needed service before deciding to call you. “You okay?”

“I hate torturing my characters.” you murmured quietly into the microphone. “Why is it so hard?”

Theo smiled softly at the sound of your voice, having fallen more and more in love with it over the months. He had asked you to date him almost six months ago—yes, he already had an anniversary present—and it had been the best time of his life. Your novel was coming along nicely, almost completely done except for a couple of scenes and the ending.

“Is your research not working?” he asked teasingly, leaning on the front counter as he talked to you. 

You sighed quietly and rolled your eyes. “Everything’s behind a stupid paywall, I tell you.” you complained to him. “And I can’t just murder someone to test if this would work!”

He chuckled quietly at that. “What’re you trying to do?”

“Well, he’s gonna stab this guy.” you murmured quietly—nails tapping against your keyboard. “A lot. I think he’s going to do a bit of, like, fileting I guess? I figure that’s how a butcher would put it.” 

“Why don’t you text me about it, and I’ll see what I can find in the library before I come home?” he asked you with a soft chuckle. “I’ll find something.

You giggled quietly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he murmured quietly into the phone. “Try working on another scene, okay? Maybe something more upbeat to change your mood.”

“Or I could make dinner!” you gasped out excitedly. “I have this new stew recipe I want to try.”

“That sounds delicious.” he murmured quietly.

“It works.” he called out into the house, sighing contentedly at the smell of beef stew radiating from the kitchen. “And your dinner smells delicious, my love.”

“Thank you!” you called out, walking over to him and kissing his nose before grimacing. “You smell funky.”

Theodore scoffed quietly. “Kirk dropped a cow cut that hadn’t been frozen yet, blood spilt over the uniforms.” he explained to you. “I gotta wash this before I eat.”

“You can try the bubbly soap that I bought you now!” you smiled brightly at that—buying the excuse almost as soon as he spoke it and kissing his cheek lovingly. “Stew’s on the counter. I’ll probably still be writing — you said it works, right?”

“Like a charm,” he said. “Found a study for it.”

“Perfect!” you giggled before walking off. “I love you!”

Theodore sighed dreamily at you, watching you walk off and he walked over to the bathroom. “Love you too.”

thank you so much for reading! i found a small prompt about a serial killer x writer who doesn't know their lover is a serial killer, and i really wanted to write about it because it sounded super funny. so, here we are! i got inspired based on this reblog here if you’re interested on reading it. if you want to read part two, you can read it here—and if you want more fluffy content as well, you can check out my main writing blog over here <3

© wistericall 2025. do not copy, translate or claim any of my works as your own. reblogs + comments are so very appreciated! have a lovely day, love!

[miifu666]

Detective and Killer Househusband Au!

An idea thats been fermenting in my mind maybe because ive been rewatching brooklyn 99! Buttt Househusband Wukong and his detective wife hihihi. Took me a while to make this cause I was confused on which role would they have but some moots in discord helped me so! HOUSEHUSBAND WUKONGG. This is modern normal AU? Ish???

Detective! Suklha

A well respected detective who managed to have the most cases broken in her youth, yet somehow a new case stumped her. The motives are sporadic and unpredictable, there has been dosen of detective investigating the case before but eventually it was handed to her as a referral.

Her advice are considered to be the highest priority. Less anyone has a different opinion, Suklha is ready to drain them dry for any reason why, will went as far as chasing them at every corner. She will never let anyones opinion go to waste and accepts criticism.

Is known to be Cold and mysterious, some officers learnt she has a soft spot but only a few and is an obscured knowledge in her precinct. They never would’ve guessed she’s married to the neighborhood’s well known monkey.

Was offered promotion a couple of times but rejected it. Already comfortable with her position and reputation, she works for her passion rather than money. Fortunately shes good at money managing, and Wukong has a good way of using his knowledge to do household chores as cheap as he can but still effective.

Introverted, she strictly works alone without a partner. For her own purposes, less she gets overstimulated she claims. In truth, she just hates social interaction when its unneeded and has a lot of trust issues she wont work on. Has been in therapy for a couple of times but in the end showed no improvement due to her stubborn attitude.

Met Wukong during her therapy session, talked to him while waiting for her. Turns out they both had the same psychologist. A psychologist who specializes in addiction and behavioral issues.

Cant stop obsessing over theories and plans, although she makes this habit of her into a job. It also made her highly paranoid, to the point she’s afraid to work with a partner. This however died down after she got married, has been taking better care of herself or should i say a certain monkey has?

This bias towards her husband, someone she deeply trusts. Made her blind from making him a suspect, doesnt help that Wukong stalks every move on his own case.

People has seen her blush an occasional time, the day she had a fever while clocking in and when she had to introduce her husband. Which shocked a lot of officers, it was the first time a police department went silent.

Yan! Househusband! Wukong

Met Suklha while he was going to therapy. Lied about his issues to get on her good side. Kept it up since then. In truth, He has an obsessive disorder.

A househusband who is well known in the community especially to the elderly, very active in terms of community services and also kind hearted. He’s very extroverted and warm. Some elderly calls him “The monkey who’s equal to heaven” referring to the many good deeds he has done.

Has a habit of giving baked goods to new members of the community, occasionally gives out free food for Suklha’s precinct because “he accidentally made too much”

Wouldn’t it be funny if his Ruyi Jingu Bang is a folding staff that he disguised as a broomstick? The name comes from Suklha cause each time she tries to use the broom it always detached itself from the broom and so far only Wukong is able to use it? Its also very heavy lmao.

Gossips with EVERYONEE its his way of getting intel and he feels like it helps Suklha in a way besides stalking her throughout her work yk-

Has a large network of “someone i know”, Macaque is the only one who knows of his bad habits and what he’s fault for. Tried to tell Suklha before they got married, after that he kind of stays out of the couples way.

Killed some people because he thought he’s lessening his Wife’s workload, even went as far as making sure they’re considered “missing” butt when the case got onto Suklha’s hand. He realized it’ll only gave her more overtime and late night, he stopped for awhile. Till he started again when he found out some cops arent… able to keep their hands to themselves when its about his wife.

Got the name “Heaven’s Sage” because the internet has been blowing up about him doing “Gods work” only killing suspected killers and perverts so far. In a gruesome and bludgeoned way, notable trademarks of his victims are : Marks of blunt objects, fatal multi-organ inflammation, left barren without clothes or valuable.

VERY obsessive of his wife, its been going on for almost a decade now… he is NOT joking. He can tell if she walks funny or smells differently.

Taglist : @phoenixeclipse-lmkau @skymoral @tuskstudioart @whatisev04 @forge-the-idiot @masterqueso @monkieshad0w @lilchickie @mehiwilldoitlater @missrosiesworld @sleepingdramaqueen @epochal-oracle

[janestvalentine]

I couldn't decide which tags I wanted to reblog this post with...so I decided to do all of them:

#rimi talks#like you can absolutely get into discussion of copaganda in comics and the authorial end editorial centrism, #because god knows a lot of comics (esp older ones) just absolutely REEK of performative activism or copaganda or what have you, #and there is definitely plenty to be said there, #but that's not what people saying this stuff are talking about 😭, #it's all just ''but i want the white man to kill a crowd of evil goons but it's fine bc none of their lives mattered bc they got in his way!, #and don't worry he was unquestionably right to have killed them and it was really cool and sexy of him to do so and also he was right'', #(now don't take this as me disagreeing that fictional murder can be sexy. of course it can. ive seen pamela isley.), #(but while i would call her sexy i would not call her RIGHT for being a murderous ecofascist yk), (x)

#'but you see this guy is making the world better by killing people, #bc he's only killing the really bad guys like the sex offenders and paedophiles and rapists', #buddy. please tell me which demographics are most likely to be accused of paedophilia and rape., #i cannot emphasise enough that if you go into superhero comics and then get annoyed bc the characters don't kill people, #maybe you just don't like superhero comics., #and also i don't like you., (x)

#LITERALLY, #also: ever heard of the brutalizing effect? there’s really conflicting evidence about whether execution BY THE STATE even ‘works’, #as a deterrent against crime, #(and is in practiced applied really racistly but anyway), #and ur telling me u want VIGILANTES to kill their enemies???? like now uve created a norm where superheroes can kill villains without, #due process and now both villains and goons are NAWT going to surrender peacefully to superheroes bc theyll be scared of. yk. GETTING THEIR, #HEAD CHOPPED OFF, #wait sorry that’s not even the main mechanism behind the brutalizing effect i was just also saying that would also fuck up superhero’s MAIN, #priority: um? fucking making the streets safer? if the villains are worried about their safety after getting defeated then they’re gonna go, #even more all out before going out #anyway brutalizing effect is when the people who will commit violent crimes are NOT deterred by executions of convicted felons, #bc they don’t identify with the convicted felon they identify with the executioner, #also. obvi. parallels to police brutality if superheroes killed., #but even besides that like why would superheroes want to create a norm of killing. they would not want to normalize killing., (x)

#yeah‚ this! precisely this is such a succinct and effective wording of this exact problem, #like. doing the above is/would be no different to watching every movie billed as a chick flick hoping for a bodice ripper, #yeah if you try hard enough you'll find what you're looking for a couple of times, #but you've fundamentally misunderstood what it is this genre can do for you. congrats you missed the thesis, #go read jack reacher number three hundred and four or smth, (x)

#people who act like its bad that batman realises the value in every humans life, #like be so fr, #yeah jokers awful but why do you only put the blame on batman, #what about the gcpd's role or the legal system not sentencing him the death penalty? thats the real reason jokers alive after all he's done, #but sure blame the vigilante, #why do you want your superheros to be murderers? the people that kids are supposed to look for as symbols of hope and justice?, #you want superheros... to be murderers., #think about that for a second, (x)

#it’s like going into a bakery and hating all the cakes there, #honestly i love the hardship that comes from those decisions of to spare not kill etc., #seeing how it takes a toll both physically and mentally on characters and yet they keep pushing through regardless, #it’s what made me realize i like Superman and Superboy tbh, (x)

people who go into superhero comics (the "heroes don't kill" genre, where (admittedly, often very flawed) discussion of the morality of taking a life and themes of lawfulness, vigilanteism, and redemption are like the entire foundations of the genre) and then get pissy about how they want edgier protagonists who kill their enemies. bro just go watch Generic Action Blockbuster #74821384

[professional-rat-eater]

i think marius might be the only character ever where, if you talk abt the horrible stuff hes done in canon, youll get ppl telling u to get it out of the main tag even though his monstrocity is. like. canon. and in the books

WARNING: Severe Marius slander ahead. I mean it. Just stop reading here if you're going to argue (again.) It's just exhausting for everyone involved, though genuine conversation is always welcome.

_______________

Right???? Imagine a fan of Armand telling you not to post about what he did to Claudia in his tag. It's a pretty significant part of his arc. Or Lestat dropping Louis in the show, or Claudia's serial killing, or Louis's neglect of Claudia. That would all be pretty strange.

And you also get called performative or a virtue signaller for discussing his most notable contribution to the Vampire Chronicles canon (grooming Armand which has a domino effect for every choice Armand makes after that point, especially regarding his personal relationships.) Interesting to know there are those who think calling a pedophile a pedophile is performative. Is this just an extension of the "it's not that deep" mentality that pollutes the way so many interact with the media they consume nowadays or is it something else?

Because it is that deep. Personal feelings, positive or negative, towards Marius aside. That is what he is. That is objectively what he is. It doesn't matter if it was only Armand, it doesn't matter if he never did it again and it doesn't change just because other characters have also done bad things. This isn't even a comment on whether it was wrong or not, though it obviously was horrific. It is an entirely neutral statement. That is what he is. It is inarguable.

There are fans of every character who downplay what their favourites do, I suppose because they don't understand the genre of what they're watching/reading, but it is undeniable that the characters who remained white or have yet to be cast (and so are still perceived as white due to the canon of the books) have a significantly higher number of people making excuses for them.

Personally, I cannot understand why Marius is the character people are riding this hard for. On top of being a child predator, he's also exceedingly arrogant, seems to have no regard for what he did to Armand beyond what is performative, he's delusional and entitled and arrogant and selfish and immature.

But above all, perhaps what is his worst crime as a fictional character is being profoundly uninteresting. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt in previous posts but he is just boring. He's a racist relic of the past who never evolved past his backwards period-appropriate colonial views. That is why he found a boy who comes from the region we would now know as Ukraine, 'educated' him, dressed him up in pretty outfits and broke him down into pieces just to put the pieces back together in a more agreeable form. You could remove all the SA and that would still be true about him. That aspect of their relationship just really drives the point home. Perhaps some research into the historical mistreatment and perception of Eastern Europeans and how that intersects with colonialism and how this concept is only rendered more profound by Assad's casting would serve these people well.

Then, when Armand reacts like all abused children do instead of being his maker's passive pretty little doll, Marius gives up on him and is content to let a cult destroy his mind even further than it already had been for hundreds of years, completely abandoning him to their torture. A true romance for the ages (sarcasm.)

Marius's abusive tendencies and the way in which they are different to other characters are the most interesting thing about him, and we can't even talk about it candidly without having people who read the absolute horror that was The Vampire Armand as a regular romance telling us off for making them feel bad about a character they chose to post publicly about loving. I'll reiterate again that you cannot willfully misinterpret a piece of media to such an extreme and then be sensitive when you see accounts that differ to your own. Have some courage in your convictions, for God's sake. No one rational and reasonable thinks someone is a bad person for liking a fictional character, but don't come on public social media and start policing people for what they think. Everyone inevitably gets their feelings hurt on social media. It's like the wild west on here. It is unrealistic to expect otherwise.

It's frustrating to me personally, I suppose, because there are so many people like Marius, fictional and otherwise. He's not special in any regard. He took a traumatised boy and tried to tame him and making him 'civilised'. It's a tale as old as fucking time. I'm sorry for the Marius defenders who find this discourse boring but you will need to get used to it because it's only going to get worse when season 3 airs and the writers continue to do what they are already doing, which is portraying Marius accurately. I apologise for everyone who will see that ancient white colonial racist buy the little boy from Delhi and destroy everything that remains of him and get annoyed that we aren't moving past that part and filling up their ao3 tag blindly with fluff.

I expect this attitude is going to change when they introduce Marius formally to the show, or at least it will be drowned out more which will be a relief. The writers know what he is and they're already showing it. They had no issue showing Lestat, Louis and Armand for exactly what they are, so I'm not sure why anyone would be convinced that Marius would be any different.

So sorry anon. This was such a long and rambling response. You're absolutely spot on and it is endlessly frustrating.

[acourtofthought]

Sure, SJM included information on how certain bonds aren't well matched but why do people read that excerpt and stop there? Since when are single lines meant to be taken as the only evidence that someone needs when trying to build an intelligent argument?

We are told that the bonds that are poorly matched are ones given to a pairing that are not ideal in spirit. They are not an indication of true, paired souls.

Let's think on what the author has told us about Elain and Lucien as individuals. Lucien suffered extreme cruelty and violence at the hands of his brothers and father yet learned to keep his cool. He vomited at the sight of the fairies wings (or lack thereof) because of what happened to Jesminda. While he is trained as a warrior, he does not prefer that life and said that he hopes he never has to fight in another battle as long as he lives. Compare all that to the Inner Circle who has no issues torturing their enemies in extremely creative ways. Az and Rhys who did not "keep their cool" when it came to Az's step-brothers, or the Attor. Az when it came to Eris's soldiers or Cassian when it came to those who played any part in what happened to his mother. Cassian and Az who continue their training as warriors and train others (perpetuating the cycle of battle / war). Even Nesta when it came to Hybern when she decided to cut off his head and stood there staring at it. Which of the above does Elain's "spirit" most closely match? Elain who is absolutely willing to save those she loves but is still bothered by cruelty. Elain who returned TT and walked away without looking back. Elain who made Feyre swear not to harm Graysen no matter what. Elain who has been rejected by two different guys yet never did anything cruel in retaliation, she didn't even raise her voice to either one. Let's also consider the author's own words. It's fine to say, "they don't need to end up together just because of an interview!" but why would Sarah lie about what Elain and Lucien enjoy? "They are pretty much happy to be out in nature the most." Not only do we have the interview where she says the above but the books support it what with evidence of Lucien having had a campsite, with his ease at killing and cleaning fish, with the references to his hunting, with the mentions of him glowing under the sunlight, with him looking as if he were crafted from the forest. And of course we know that Elain is our resident Earth Goddess as she's a gentle grower of things who looks alive when out in her gardens, who believes the world needs more of them, who is always sitting by the sunniest windows as if any bit of darkness is abhorrent and for whom Night Court black sucks the life out of. Have we been given any confirmation that Az is at ease out in nature? That he embodies the great outdoors? That he comes alive under the sun? Quite the contrary actually as we're told only one single shadow was brave enough to face it and the shadows are as much a part of Az as Az himself. Sure he listened to Elain talk about her gardens but has he ever gone out to help her because he also enjoys it? (And no, sitting outside in the sun one time with Elain does not equal enjoyment of nature, that's like telling a sunbather at the beach they enjoy nature as much as someone who enjoys hiking the Appalachian Trail and has a Rewards Card at REI and Bass Pro Shop). Lucien and Elain both readily apologize whereas I think the only person Az apologized to was Nesta in a different series. Lucien and Elain are quick to let go of past prejudices where Az hangs on to them like his favorite blankie. Lucien and Elain are both affectionate and forthcoming with praise for their friends and family where Az is often reserved and stoic. Lucien and Elain are also both fairly humble where Az is definitely not, he's fairly arrogant at times.

So really, when Elain and Lucien's core values match on a much deeper level than what we see compared to Elain and any other character, how can anyone doubt that their bond is one that is matched in spirit? That they are one another's other half, a mirror reflection? That doesn't necessarily mean they have to end up together but I don't think anyone can argue that they wouldn't be well matched. Therefore constantly referring back to the discussion Feyre and Rhys had only further supports why Elain and Lucien were give a truly matched bond and why her personality is much more suited to Lucien than Az.

[whatonearthisgoingon]

Lost Memories - An Alternate Marauders Era Universe.

The story is supposed to go like this: as usual, one day, Sirius tells Severus the way to the shack. Severus gets to the shack earlier than expected, and James doesn't get to him on time.

While trying to fight a turned Remus together, James comes in the way of his friend and nearly gets killed, but Severus, moving without thinking, pushes his rival out of the way and gets attacked himself.

Sirius and Peter come in, seeing blood all over the place, and Hagrid comes in after them. The three quickly leave the area, dragging Severus' limp body along. Dumbledore soon rushes out with McGonagall to keep an eye on Remus while Severus gets healed; James, Peter, and Sirius all watch anxiously as different potions and sharp tools are pulled out to save the Slytherin's life until Madame Pomfrey finally tells them to leave and get cleaned up.

However, Sirius terrified that Snape will tell on them, revealing that the group tipped Severus off about Remus, he secretly stays back,. When Madame Promfrey goes on a break, he obliviates Severus and flees immediately after.

Severus runs away after waking up, confused in disoriented. He eventually returns after summer, looking new, his mind and memories split. He now goes by Severance Prince and most people don't revognize him.

This is the beginning summary of the au, with the og post by @unnecessaryheadache linked here. This will be an rp sideblog au. My rp account for this is @sirius-orion-black-the-third.

Please read the info given in the original post. If this is something you are in interested in, please message @unnecessaryheadache (UH) or myself, about joining the group!

As I'm writing this, Severus Snape/Severance Prince, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, James Potter, Lily Evans, Pandora Rosier, Regulus Black and Bellatrix Black, are taken. OC's are welcome, but talk to UH about it.

Update 5:27 EST 5/16/2025: Snape, James, Sirius, Peter, Bella, Lily, Mary, Evan, Regulus, Gilderoy, and Dorcas are taken

Update 6:25 EST 5/16/2025: Marlene and Barty are taken

Also, speaking as Sirius, for anyone interested in playing Barty Crouch Jr., I would LOVE to do Bitchkiller! Sorry Wolfstar lovers, but since it's prank time, I don't think Wolfstar makes sense/is feasible.

There is a community that you will be invited to that talks about lore more.

If you already have sideblogs for a character, I would recommend making a brand new one for this, as this is very lore heavy, and mixing with other aus might make tracking even more complicated. I personally made an entire new one.

Again, message if you're interested. I'm tagging all of my moots in this; if I tagged you and you're not an HP/Marauders moot, my bad. I'm too lazy to double check what fandom you are.

@acelovesremuslupin @adanmwere @astrawantssleep @be-nice-im-dead-inside @bikisser23 @birdiefromafar @blitzstoneshouldbecanon @bluebasie @cool-lesbian-is-here @cuculoooo @destroy-the-binary @getsuuna @gigiyuu @gimmiecandy @harrietthespywastaken @hey-look-at-the-stars @lllaced @lookitsabooknook @love-hate-love00 @luna---lovegood @mentallyillwacko @mikeywaysbass @mochamoony @moonchild311 @moonlightsmile @moonyscribe @mrecury42 @mxlovey32 @my-castles-crumbling @not-a-gay-fangodess @olympushaze @permetutotheworld @reaperlight @serpentine-starlight @siriuslyobsessed394 @siriuslysirius101 @starman-01 @symbiotic-slime @tired-writer-in-progress @theduchessr @the-stars-in-between @thepicklekingog @urpants @welcometoh0rr0rwood @werewolfadmirer @xxlady-lunaxx @yes-ofc-i-bite

[theredcuyo]

Something i just realized, is that even tho, generally Hualian shares more thing in common with Bingqiu than with Wangxian there is a very specific thing they do share and it hurts like fucking hell

So, i'm talking about Wu Ming and Lan Wangji during the Yilling patriarch thing

You see, the feeling i got from both of them is "I don't like this, i can't be okay with seeing you do this to yourself, but i can't do anything more to help you than this, i'm sorry i can't do more, i don't know what else to do"

This is, talking about Wu Ming staying by Xie Lian's side and Lan Wangji with his come back to gusu

The thing is, i interpret Wu Ming as Hua Cheng doing whatever is necessary to stay by Xie Lian's side this time, since he just went trhu the temple thing, and doesn't want to see him get even worse, but at the same time, he knows this is not right, he knows this is bad for Xie Lian himself but he doesn't know what else to do, i've always thought that him leaving flowers for Xie Lian was his own way of trying to give him some sort of hope in some way, and this later evolves into Hua Cheng's ability to do what's best for Xie Lian and not just what he wants (Like meeting Qi Rong, not swallowing a sword)

And then with Lwj happens almost the same, from what he has been told all his life, Wei Wuxian is putting himself basically in the edge of a cliff and balancing carelessly on it. For no reason other than power, and for the longest time everyone agrees that he should do it. Then everyone says he is too dangerous while still on the fucking edge of a cliff and people decide they will drag him away and kill him themselves or push him off. Lwj doesn't know what to do except try and tell him to please get away from the edge of the cliff and go home with him so he can take care of him. He sucks at expressing this, but he was doing his best and doesn't know what else to do, because the only example he had in reference was the mess of his parents' marriage. But he doesn't want to force Wwx into it, and it's trying to help in his own way.

Anyway, this is just the way i intepreted things, i would love to hear other points of view!

[rook-laidir]

Got y’all banter at the banter store

Idk why y’all like these so much but hey, I like doing them. Enjoy!

~

Emmrich: I do envy you, Rook. The tales of the Lords of Fortune and their adventures reach even the Necropolis.

Rook: They’re good people. Sort of.

Emmrich: I’d love to hear more about your excursions. You must have seen the most fascinating crypts and burial sites. To see remnants of a world before cremation became so normalized. The dead must have some incredible stories.

Rook: I hate to burst your bubble, but it’s not gold and glory all the time. Sometimes the crypts are empty or another group already picked them clean or an asshole of a noble decides to double-cross you and leave you and your crew to die.

Emmrich: Ah. Even still, I’d love to hear about your journeys when you’ve the time.

~

Rook: Up for some Wicked Grace later?

Davrin: No, you cheat.

Rook: Fine, what about Fool’s Gold?

Davrin: No, you cheat.

Rook: Dominos?

Davrin: You already know what I’m gonna say.

Rook: You can’t cheat at dominos!

Davrin: You’ll find a way.

~

Bellara: When’s your name day?

Rook: Why do you need it?

Bellara: I’m trying to keep track of everyone’s name days so I can bake cakes and we can celebrate.

Rook: Aw!

~

Bellara: You still haven’t told me your name day.

Rook: Oh, right. It was a couple weeks ago.

Bellara: What?

Rook: What?

Bellara: Why didn’t you tell me?

Rook: Because I haven’t celebrated my name day in years. Also I kinda just forgot.

Bellara: Rook!

Rook: It’s fine, Bellara. Really. I don’t need a celebration.

Bellara: But I like celebrations! Especially if they’re for my friends!

~

Bellara: So how was the cake?

Rook: It was really nice, actually. Thanks, Bellara.

Bellara: Anytime! Well, anytime as long as it’s your name day. Or if we have another cake-related celebration.

Rook: I’m sure we’ll think of something.

~

Harding: Remember when we were in Antiva City-

Rook: And Varric accidentally set up a Crow contract against himself?

Harding: He kept saying it wasn’t an accident, it was to see who would take it, but I still don’t believe him.

Rook: At least the Crows called it off before we had to fight off assassins.

Harding: He really didn’t like having to fight off assassins whenever we had to do it.

Rook: Can’t say it’s my favorite either.

~

Taash: Isabela asked for you at The Hilt.

Rook: Am I in trouble again?

Taash: I dunno, probably. But she also misses you.

Rook: Really? Isabela said she misses me?

Taash: She said you need to stop embarrassing her when you leave your back exposed in the Hall. She taught you better than that.

Rook: Aw, she misses me!

~

Neve: So you’re in a crypt or a dungeon with the Lords, you find some ancient treasure, and then what? What do you do when the job’s done?

Rook: Depends. If it’s a big haul or if it’s something we need to get appraised, we bring it back to Isabela. For the rest, we each take a cut and the rest goes to the vault.

Neve: You have a vault that’s filled to the brim with treasure?

Rook: The entire thing is booby-trapped. The last people who tried had their feet stuck to the floor and then they were incinerated.

Neve: Huh. Good to know.

~

Neve: Have you ever seen the inside of the vault?

Rook: Nope. I like being alive. If the traps don’t kill me first, Isabela will.

Neve: Makes sense. You’re not the type to steal from family either. Especially when you’re not in it for the gold.

Rook: Of course, I’m in it for the gold.

Neve: It’s nice that you care about each other so much.

~

Rook: What makes you think I don’t care about the gold? I’m a treasure hunter, that’s kind of a big part of it.

Neve: You’re the first to buy everyone a round at The Hilt and you wait for everyone else to take their share before you go for yours. When anyone asks about a job, you light up when you talk about the traps and the puzzles and you spend barely any time talking about what you did with the treasure if and when you found it. You’re never disappointed when you come up empty or if there’s not enough to go around. You’re in it for the adventure and because the Lords of Fortune is your family.

Rook: Well, that’s…

Neve: You’re family to them too. It’s sweet.

~

Rook: I’m really sorry.

Lucanis: I forgot to label it and you wanted a snack. I’ve already forgiven you.

Rook: Spite hasn’t.

Spite: It was mine!

[azialways]

feel absolutely free to ignore if this subject is too tender, but could you write something with ronin seeing his partners self scars, something soft and comforting?

sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my first 😊

Heal with me

ronin x sh!recovering reader

cw: mentions of sh, scars, addiction, mental health struggles

YOUR MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS! PLEASE SEEK HELP IF YOURE STRUGGLING! DMS ARE ALWAYS OPEN <3

You were insecure about your scars. For the longest time you were, even when you were a teenager and you first took the blade to your skin, it felt wrong. You struggled as a teenager with depression and anxiety, and you used self harm as a coping mechanism, albeit not a good one, but you didn’t have anywhere else to go. Your story was nothing short of a tragedy, but that wasn’t important. At least, you didn’t think it was important until one night, you and Ronin got drunk and the two of you spilled your life’s secrets and struggles. Luckily he was so shitfaced he didn’t remember you bringing up your old self harm habits, but part of you felt bad for lying. The truth is, self harm was a part of who you were when you were younger; you were the cutter at school, your home life wasn’t great yet your parents still had the time to make fun of you for it. You didn’t have many friends at school or out, because news spreads like wildfire in small towns. Nobody wanted to be friends with the cutter and the suicidal kid, so you moved out as soon as humanly possible. You were addicted to drugs for a while, constantly reliant and needing, but since you quit, your life turned around quick.

You did the therapy, you did the psych ward stays, and now here you are. You made it past your 18th birthday, and then your 21st, and now here you are, still alive past it. And you were happy you were, because you were in love with this man who was actually a serial killer. You knew what you were getting yourself into when you first joined the server, but you chose to stay, and then you fell in love. Sure, he was a serial killer, but he was mostly killing people that deserved it, so you could get behind it. You and Ronin weren’t the most intimate couple, because you were always so anxious about him seeing your scars. You feared his disapproval, his love dying because of your history with issues. You didn’t want him thinking you were going to be a problem, especially when you finally recovered. People had left you for much less, and you didn’t need him leaving too.

You always felt there was a big elephant in the room whenever you didn’t have a coat on, and it broke so many friendships and relationships. Your family would always stare, your friends always stared, even if they already knew, they’d always stare. Everyone is almost always noticing that instead of you you are, and that constant judgement always makes you feel even shittier about yourself. You already had low self esteem because of it, sometimes you’d look at your arms and think of just how ugly they were, and how it was all your fault. You didn’t want the only person who loved you to think less of you because of it. Sure, he should love you regardless, but you didn’t want him to feel awkward because of it.

But one day, he walked in on you taking your hoodie, and the conversation was completely inevitable.

“Oh shit-my bad-Darling?” You quickly realized and shoved your hoodie back on. He walked in, gently approaching you. He approached you like he knew how to talk to you, and it made you feel slightly reassured.

“Baby…is that why you don’t wanna wear short sleeves?” He asked, joining you on the bed. And you just nodded, and he offered his hands out to hold you. You agreed, cuddling up against him. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your head.

“Wanna talk about it?” He offered, and you nodded your head.

“You have questions, I can tell.”

“I do, but you don’t have to answer them. You don’t owe me anything.”

“I’ll answer them, Ro.” You muttered into his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me…? Darling, I have scars too. From my surgeries, nasty ones…I know what it’s like to feel insecure about them.”

“I know but that’s different.”

“Scars are just signs of our battles, baby.” He spoke softly, stroking your hair. “And you’re the strongest person i’ve ever fuckin seen. I mean dealing with me? Takes a soldier.”

“God you’re so corny.” You mumbled, and he just laughed.

“Alas. it’s true though, you don’t gotta hide from me…I won’t ever think any less of you, okay?”

“I know but…it’s me too.”

“Why, do you think I'll think differently? self esteem? talk to me.” He asked, genuinely wanting to hear what you say.

“Bit of both.” You responded.

“I promise you, I think you’re the hottest, most amazing person, scarred or not. And for the record, I think scars are sexy, so how about that?”

“God you’re so unserious.” You laughed, genuinely laughing at his stupidity. He was an idiot, an unserious one, but your idiot nonetheless. You loved him, you loved him more than anything, and the fact he still saw you as beautiful even with your scars made you see him in a whole other light. He was truly a sweet guy under the whole “devil” persona he put up. He honestly wasn’t that devilish, even if he had his moments. He was a supportive boyfriend, one who loved you like you were the most holy thing ever. He loved you like he loved murder, like he loved his crowbar. He worshipped you, treated you like you were the most precious, like you were only to be loved by him. And you loved that about him, you needed that soft love, the gentle and slow love. Sure, you could go into the deeper, more intimate parts, but you also loved this type of love. You didn’t feel the need to rush things, because you were just getting back into dating for the first time since you were in recovery.

So for now, baby steps. One foot in front of the other, and it’ll all work out in the end. It did before, and it will now.

[cleo-akuma]

Protector (part 2)

Timeline: Civil War and forth

Bucky x reader

Reader only trusts Bucky, introvert/socially anxious, with strong super powers stronger than the avengers.

At HYDRA…

You hear machines beeping, people talking and clattering medical instruments around you. You slowly open your eyes the same time as you felt your neck stick with the needle punctured and fluid flowing to your veins. You scream due to the pain it gave you alarming the scientists and soldier that you’re awake. A man slowly approached you with a big smile on his face.

He shushes you and caress your hair “it’ll be over soon darling, endure it a little more.” He said with a soft tone. You look him straight in the eyes trying to manipulate his mind but it doesn’t work. He smiles “mind control won’t work on me dear. It won’t work on any of us.” He says.

You look at him confused, why isn’t your power working. You assumed that they removed it. “What did you do to me.” You asked through your screams of pain.

“Let’s just say that I’m in command now. You will do whatever I want you to do whether you like it or not.” He smiles again as if he had been successful with his experiment. “I gave you a chance to have control over yourself before, we took you in as one of us and you betrayed us.” He said as if he was hurt from the betrayal.

“I will never be one of you,” you said as the needle was removed from your neck. “You tortured me, gaslit me, made me think that what I was doing was right.” You exclaimed. You felt tears but you don’t wanna show weakness in front of this man.

The man showed a fake hurt expression and pointed towards the window. There, you saw the woman you considered your mother. “Mother” you called for her as she was busy tinkering on her computer not looking at you.

Before anything could happen you feel yourself getting trapped, everything around you turning into a void.

———————————————

“The process is complete sir.” Said the scientist. You’ve become a vessel, a shell for HYDRA to control. You’re now a prisoner of your own mind. You worry for the capabilities of your powers but you worry more for Bucky’s safety.

“Good, with this we are unstoppable.”

Back to Bucky and the others…

On the way to Madripoor, everyone’s discussing how to get you out. Bucky feeling very anxious about your situation, he feels like shit for doubting you without hearing your side.

“Tell me why should we care about her when she kicked our asses earlier?” Nat said to Tony. Before Tony said a thing they heard Zemo talk.

Everyone’s eyes were on Zemo, even Bucky. “She’s not your typical normal girl.” He sighs before revealing everything. “She’s blessed with celestial Powers, one that could either save or end the world, i believe that you’ve witnessed her abilities base on how she…” he stopped for a moment and looked at everyone and continued “kicked your asses” everyone felt a bit embarrassed because a small girl like Y/n beat them.

“Are we not talking about how this man,” Wanda pointed to Zemo “tried to kill us through this guy?” And pointed to Bucky. “And here we are believing every story he has about this girl who, let me remind you, put Rhodey in a stretcher and is now paralyzed?” Wanda got irritated because why is Tony allowing this to happen. “And this,” she gestured her hand circling the people around “this is not what I expected to happen. Just a moment ago we were trying to kill each other and now, we’re suddenly a team? Tony?” She’s confused with the turn of events.

Everyone would be lying if they said they don’t agree with Wanda. It’s like they’ve been bewitched by Y/n because why are they risking their lives for someone they barely know.

“She’ll grow on you once you get to know her.” Bucky spoke looking outside. He smiles as he said those words, it’s as if he’s reminiscing his moments with y/n. “She may look powerful, but inside she’s soft. She’s the sweetest once she opens up to you. She’s like a child that needs protection from the world but at the same time can defend herself,” Bucky laughed a little from the thought that he’s barely making sense. “It’s confusing really, but you’ll understand someday. I just hope what happened earlier won’t be your last impression of her.” He wished that everyone would befriend you, because he knows how afraid you are of people.

Steve stepped in even though he didn’t know who you are “I believe she only did what she did because she wanted Bucky safe. I witnessed her crying as she called herself a monster for hurting Rhodey. She’s lost and scared too and seeing her only friend about to die, must’ve made her scared.” Everyone went silent after hearing his words. Everyone’s scared of losing their person, they too would’ve done everything to save their loved ones.

After a few hours, they arrived at HYDRA’s Facility in Madripoor. The sight of dead bodies and begging civilians shocked them. Something or someone destroyed this place. They walked with caution until they found the underground laboratory, everyone was dead.

Bucky grew anxious, he doesn’t wanna think that you did this, that someone else did this.

“What a Reunion” someone said from a distance. They all looked at the direction the voice came from.

“Rumlow?” Tony shocked at the sight of this ghost. He was supposed to be dead.

“You still recognize me, I’m touched.” Rumlow laughed like a crazy person.

“Where is she?” With a cold tone, Bucky asked.

Rumlow smiled and looked behind him. There you were, eyes dark, hair floating, glowing lines across your arms and legs. “Let me introduce to you my latest Experiment.” He bowed as if he was performing “Celestia”

“Y/n.” Bucky cried your name. You hear him calling for you but he can’t hear your calls. You couldn’t approach him because everything around you is an endless void. Whilst your body only looked at Bucky, smiling with Horror.

“Y/n is long gone, Soldier. She’s a mere puppet for me to use.” Everyone was shocked because they didn’t think this was possible.

“Y/n please! I know you’re there. Please come back.” Bucky searching for you, begging you to show yourself to them. You tried your best to run in this endless void, and your physical body reacts. Your expression grew softer. This alarmed Rumlow so he played a recording.

“My, my” Rumlow said. “Y/n dearest, they’re not here to save you because they care for you, love.” Rumlow smiled as he pressed play.

It was a recording of them talking about you. Asking why they should save you. You got hurt by the fact that no one really cares for you. You stopped running, and dropped to your knees. “I’m alone.” It echoed through your head. You body starting to react with rage as your hair turned to flames.

You could no longer hear them speaking. You could no longer hear Bucky’s calls.

“What heroes you have. Complaining about why you should care.” Rumlow said.

They didn’t know how he got that recording but it’s their Voices and conversation earlier. Bucky realizes that that recording was cut. It should have the one where Bucky was explaining your situation.

“Bucky,” Sam whispered. “We take Rumlow” Bucky understood that without Rumlow the vessel cannot act on its own. As he mentioned before, your body became a puppet, and without Rumlow in control they can take this project down.

But Rumlow was in control of your powers, they couldn’t take a step near him so taking him down is impossible. He then commanded you to show the Avengers what true power is like.

With a lift of your hand, you started manipulating their minds. You turn them against each other, make them kill one another. Wanda looked at Vision with anger, Tony had no Idea what was happening until Steve turned to him with dark eyes ready to attack. One by one their minds got controlled. Except for Helmut. Your brother.

“My friend,” Helmut said to Rumlow “You missed one thing.” Helmut opened his arms. “I’m her Brother.” Helmut throws Rumlow back and your body dropped like a lifeless doll. Everyone stopped attacking each other and they grew scared of what just happened to them. “Her blood runs in mine.” As ruthless as he is he shoots the weakened man in front of him. “That’s for my family” he felt as if he avenged his family by killing the last of HYDRA.

Bucky runs to your body calling you as he cries. “Please don’t leave me. Please, I… I…. love you” Bucky cries as he hugs your body. Inside the void you’re still hearing the echoes of your own voice telling you that you’re alone. Barely hearing Bucky’s words.

“Y/n please. I’m so sorry my sweet girl. I’m truly sorry. Please, don’t punish me like this.” Bucky still crying as the others were watching. They paid respect believing that you are really gone.

“Mr. Barnes, if I may.” Helmut excused himself to hold you.

“I’m alone…”

these words still echoing in your ears.

“Little Lamb.” You hear a voice. A familiar nickname. It was calling you. “Let’s go home now. No one will hurt you anymore.” Slowly you walk towards the voice. There you see your brother.

Your eyes filled with tears as you ran towards him. “Brother!” You called as you hugged him. You remembered him.

You and Helmut regained consciousness with tears in your eyes. You hugged your brother again you felt at ease, reuniting with your family. Due to exhaustion, you collapsed in Helmut’s arms. Bucky worried but Zemo assured him that you’re fine just tired.

————————————-

A week had passed and you’re still sleeping. Bucky didn’t wanna leave your side he slept and ate beside you waiting for you to wake up. The team discussed about what would happen to you as of now they’re still waiting for you to wake up and discuss with you.

“What about Zemo?” T’challa asked. He still wants to give his father’s death justice and knowing that it was Helmut who killed him, he wants to take Zemo to jail.

“It’s too complicated now. Let’s all discuss everything when we’re complete.” Tony answered. Even he’s having a hard time deciding what will happen to you, Bucky and Zemo. You three became a threat to the world, thorough judgement and long process will be needed to asses the final verdict with you three. But as of now, you’re all staying at the compound.

A thud was heard not far from the team. You awoke and no kneeling in front of everyone. “Everything that happened to Bucky and Helmut was because of me, I’m willing to take all responsibility and punishment for them, just let them live again.

[le-trash-prince]

Pit Babe 2 Ep 3 Thoughts

Omg Chris rolling his eyes at his boss I LOVE HIM

Man the way Jeff puts his smile on when he tells Alan he didn’t want to worry him… that “I’m perfect and everything’s fine” smile 😭

JEFF AND ALAN ARE HURTING ME ARGH JEFF STILL DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO LET HIS WALLS DOWN AND ALAN IS SO UPSET THAT JEFF WAS IN PAIN AND HID IT ARGGHGJFJF

“Me and Babe aren’t the type to hide how we feel” AGDJFJGKDBFBFNDBSHBFNF “We don’t talk about it we just have sex” they have SO MUCH TO LEARN IM WHEEZING

Liu is a little too interested in this convo lmfao i mean I don’t BLAME her it would be me too but

“I missed my son” *runs him over with a car*

I love Winner so fucking much 

WILLY DID NOT SHOW UP WITH FLOWERS NO WAY DJFJFJF this is his idea of leaving Babe alone

Oh FUCK Willy’s power is scary

And look at that, talking about his feelings. It almost like some people need time to process their feelings before they can verbalize them 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

Kenta came to Pete not for help but because he was worried about him 😭😭😭😭

He’s just used to letting himself into Pete’s place huh

I know I keep saying this but the soundtrack this season slaps

Jeff and Alan both struggling when the other one gives them the silent treatment dnfng

I love wingman Dean 😭😭😭 he’s prob gotten closer to Jeff working under him (that’s what she said)

OH THEY ARE HURTING ME!!!!!!!

The way Kenta looks up at Pete is killing me OH MY GOD HIS EYES FBFNFN

OH WILLY YOU SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Charlie trying to save both Jeff and Babe :(

We’re not asking you to keep Kenta forever, just think of him as a foster dog

don’t assume i’m being normal about kimkenta

Omg a glimpse of Pete backstory!!!!!!

I gotta say Willy is SO good as a villain my god

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"TELL US WHAT YOU NEED"

Remember I told you that I was writting a fic that was a threesome with Jax and Chibs? well HERE IT IS

I hope you like it! 😊🥵☝🖤

WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT UNDER THE CUT

tags: @sparklypiratenight

Jax and Chibs had watched you slowly distance yourself from the club until one day you stopped going to the garage, at which point they decided to go to your house to see if you were okay and to talk to you.

They knocked on the door and you told them it was open, to which they responded by entering the house, brandishing their weapons in case there was an intruder in the house you hadn't noticed.

Then they both saw the state you were in.

You had an unlit cigarette perched on your ear and a lighter resting at your feet, dangerously close to the rug.

But far from that, what worried them were your tears.

Your makeup was smeared under your eyes, leaving black streaks under your eyelashes.

"What happened?" "Jax asked, sitting next to you with wide eyes. Chibs sat on your other side.

"Whatever it is, you can tell us," Chibs murmured. "You know we won't judge you, love."

"I know," you gave a sad smile as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry you had to waste your time coming all the way here for nothing." You shrugged. "It's really not important, it can wait. I know you both have a lot of work to do, and…"

"YOU are important," Jax stopped you gently, boring his green eyes into yours while taking one of your hands in his.

"Jackie's right," Chibs seconded, resting his elbows on his knees as he moved closer to you. "We're not going anywhere." Right now YOU are the main priority.

"I feel so stupid for being like this over such a stupid thing…" you blurted out, starting to cry again.

"Tell us, sweetheart," Jax whispered. Chibs nodded at you encouragingly.

You took a deep breath and began to explain.

"Well… you know Valentine's Day was recently," you murmured, "and… I… well…" you felt tears start to run down your cheeks again. "It was hard watching Clay and Gemma give each other gifts, as did Oppie and Donna, and I-I didn't…" you broke down before you could finish.

Chibs put an arm around your shoulders while Jax wiped your tears with his thumbs.

"Oh, baby," he whispered, feeling something deep inside him break at the sight of you crying. "It's okay, you're with us now," he murmured, placing a kiss on the top of your head-

"It's hard to watch people move on with their lives while you feel like you're being left behind," Chibs chimed in. "But you're not being left behind, you have us," he said, flashing a kind smile. "A girl as beautiful as you deserves to feel special."

"Chibs is right," Jax said. "I'm sure you'll find someone who loves you so much that their heart aches just looking at you," he murmured, still staring at you.

"Actually," you mumbled, "there's something else I wanted to talk to you about."

The men exchanged a glance, before focusing on you again.

"We heard you, Darling," Chibs whispered in his thick Scottish accent.

"The reason I'm feeling like this isn't because of Valentine's Day gifts or anything like that." You swallowed hard. "It's just that I… wanted to… you know," you murmured, feeling your cheeks burn from the embarrassment you were feeling at that moment.

They widened their eyes at your confession, before Chibs spoke.

"You just wanted to get laid" he blurted out, his accent thickening a little on the last syllable. "It's normal, love."

"You could have any man you wanted," Jax whispered, giving you a light once-over. "You're beautiful."

"It's not true," you gave a sad smile. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"We've never lied to you, princess," Chibs chimed in.

"I agree with Jax," he whispered. "Any man would kill to be with you, but you don't realize it until it's too late."

"You deserve to be made to feel good," Jax said in a low, husky tone.

"Is there anything we can do to make you feel better?" "Chibs asked, watching you closely.

"We can watch your favorite movie," the blond suggested. "Anything to stop you from being sad."

"Yeah, we hate to see you like this," Chibs murmured. "I know the situation you're going through isn't pleasant, but you're safe with us."

"We would never hurt you Teller added, looking at you intensely. "You're very important to us," he said, looking at the Scotsman for a moment. "Tell us what you need."

"I don't dare say it out loud," you murmured timidly. Jax reached for a piece of paper and a pencil from the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Write it down then," he said.

You took the pencil and with trembling hands, you did so. You gave the piece to Jax, who, after reading it, gave it to Chibs.

"You want to have a threesome with us," Jax murmured. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," you nodded, feeling your cheeks redder than ever. "It's okay if you don't want to, we can…"

"Are you kidding?" Chibs blurted out. "How could we not? Have you seen yourself? You're…" He clicked his tongue, unable to find the right word. "Help me, brother" he asked, nodding at Jax.

"Beautiful is the only adjective I can think of right now," he said, almost making you sigh audibly. "It's the one that best defines you," Chibs added, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. "My cock doesn't lie."

"And neither does mine," Jax said, laughing at his brother's comment. "Before we start, we should establish some guidelines," he said. "If you don't like something, or don't want to continue, let us know," he asked. "The last thing we want is to hurt you."

"That's it," Chibs murmured, echoing everything the blond had said. "It's my duty to repeat it again. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"Yeah."

"Then there's not much more to talk about," Jax said, starting to take off his jacket, just like Chibs.

Both of their tattooed arms were exposed, and the mere thought of being caught between them made you gasp for air.

"Oh my god, look at her, Jackie. We haven't even touched her yet, and she's already shaking," Chibs said, making Jax smile.

"I know, bro," Jax murmured before looking at you again. "You haven't had the Valentine's Day you wanted…"

"…so we're going to give it to you today," Chibs finished for him.

"I have to ask, or else I feel like I'm going to go crazy," Jax said. "How long have you been thinking about this? In this situation?"

"Yeah. How long have you been wanting us to fuck you?" "Chibs pointed out, making your skin crawl all over you.

"Just a while," you blurted out, as the two men watched intently.

"Just a while," Jax repeated, looking at the Scotsman. "What do you think, Chibs?"

"I think she'd look gorgeous with my cock in her mouth," he blurted out. You gasped without realizing it, making them both smile.

"I think she liked it," he murmured between laughs before focusing back on you. "I didn't expect you to have such a dirty mind, baby," Jax whispered, lowering his gaze to your lips for a moment. "What do you say, bro?"

"I think…"

You didn't give him time to say anything else.

You practically pounced on him, devouring his mouth, trying to find the friction you so desperately needed.

Chibs's lips moved against yours, keeping pace with you despite your momentum, making Jax struggle to hide the tent he had set up in his pants.

"Fuck," he growled as Chibs bit your bottom lip, making you gasp against his mouth. "You're going to drive us crazy, sweetheart," he blurted, moving closer to where you were standing. "Do you think you can unzip my..."

You reached for him and unzipped his pants.

You both let out a moan, a sound Chibs swallowed as he kissed you.

Jax's gaze darkened when Chibs pulled away from you to give him space.

He watched the expressions cross your face as Jax took his place, kissing you with the same vigor his brother had seconds before.

"Get on your knees for us, love," Chibs ordered. "Let's see what your pretty mouth can do."

You did, and they both watched you from above, their underwear unable to contain their cocks, ready for you to take care of them.

"That's it baby, good girl," Jax praised, smirking. "Now you're going to take him in your mouth while you stroke me." He almost gasped as he said it. "What do you think, Chibs?"

"I think it's the best fucking idea you've ever had," he said, making the blond laugh. "Open your mouth for me, doll."

Your mouth couldn't take it all, so you made gentle circles over the tip before trying to push it all in, unsuccessfully.

The gray-haired man gasped as he felt it occasionally bump against the back of your throat, all the while you moved your hand up and down Jax's cock, making him gasp as well.

Within a few minutes, the room was filled with your gasps and moans, until none of the three of you could take the pressure any longer, and you switched positions.

"Looks like you're made for this, babe," Jax panted. "Oh, her mouth… her lips… fuck, Chibs!"

"I know," he replied between gasps. "I don't think I've ever had my head sucked as good as this."

"I don't think so either," Jax grinned.

Within a few seconds, they removed all your clothes and began placing kisses all over your body: between your breasts, on your pussy, until it was clear who you belonged to.

Their gazes darkened when they saw you trembling with anticipation on the bed, before they'd even entered you.

The moment the three of you became one, you'll remember forever.

The sweat running down Jax's forehead and Chibs's hands making marks on your hips as he held you… you'd never been so full as you were in that moment.