#TW: graphic violence

[pearl-likes-hunting]

There’s nothing wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong with me. There’s nothing wrong with me.

You killed your brothers. You’re a horrible sister. You can’t even protect them.

No they’re alive they’re alive they’re alive.

Hades is merciful if I give him more souls he’ll give them back. I’m a good sister I swear.

[addlepater]

thank you for your time.

[lady-wallace]

Debt to Pay (Obey Me!)

Not exactly a Febuwhump fic because I couldn't find a prompt to fit it, but in spirit. I wanted to write Mammon whump where he gets some TLC so enjoy.

(tw: for some graphic violence)

~~~~~

Mammon has racked up a little too much debt at the casino and his bookie comes to collect, threatening to take a pound of flesh if Mammon can’t pay up. When Lucifer is brought into it, Mammon wonders if his brother will even bother to help him or if he’ll leave Mammon to pay for his mistakes.

~~~~~~~

Read the whole story on A03

~~~~~~

He leaned against the counter, flagging down the bartender. “Hey, the Great Mammon needs a drink over here!”

The woman looked at him, nonplussed. “What would you like?”

“Some kind of cocktail,” Mammon said. “Surprise me. And put it on my tab—”

“Your tab is at its max limit, Mr. Mammon,” the bartender informed him.

“What?” Mammon demanded. “How is that possible? It got paid off last week.”

“It did not. The bill was rejected.”

“But I asked my brother…” Ah, yeah, that’s right, Mammon had pleaded with Lucifer to pay it and his brother had completely ignored him. He’d tried slipping it into the pile of letters on his desk, but Lucifer had probably gotten rid of it.

Well, shit.

“I’ll give you a club soda on the house,” the bartender told him, adding insult to injury.

Mammon hung his head, then caught sight of his watch. He snatched it off his wrist and held it out. “Here, take this as collateral! I promise I’ll get the money to ya next week!”

“I don’t think so,” the bartender said.

“But it’s an expensive brand! It’s probably twice as much as my tab!”

She took one look at it and handed him the club soda. “I think you got scammed.”

“What?!”

“Please pay the tab as soon as possible.”

Mammon glowered at the club soda, resting his chin in his hand. What the hell was he going to do? He’d tried to win the money back to cover everything but his luck had been shit. The way it was going, it looked like he was going to have to take a few gigs at Majolish or, worse, Hell’s Kitchen. Yikes. It would be one thing if he could skip school, but Lucifer would be on his ass about that too; one more thing Mammon didn’t need.

“Well, well, well, fancy seeing you here, Mammon.”

Speaking of things Mammon didn’t need.

He felt the hand descend on his shoulder, squeezing tightly, before he looked up at the demon leaning against the bar beside him, a slimy smile on his face. Mammon felt a chill go down his spine. He was in really deep shit now.

“Uh, um…hey, Bune. What are ya doing here?” Mammon asked, forcing a grin.

The demon continued with his tight-lipped smile. “Well, as a matter of fact, I got a tip that you might be here. Do you remember what day it is?”

[slimeranch7]

Would you mind a Countess Chelsea request?! I don’t see a lot of any PTN fics so I’m kinda desperate :~: the sky is ur limit with this one if you do do it!

Fun fact: the name of this draft is called "Chelsea req attempt 6"

ao3 link

Content warnings: graphic descriptions of violence and murder

-----

The gentle beat of a heart that isn't yours pounds in your ears like a heavy, persistent drum.

Lub dub… Lub… Dub…

It doesn't feel real. The guttural imagery forever burned through your rose tinted glasses, impossible to scrub the scar off your mind. You could never forget the way poor Sitri writhed until bright red blood stopped spurting from the gaping hole of her chest. She goes limp without a sound.

Your throat was raw from screaming and begging. Eyes burning, yet still endlessly welling with tears. Your grip on the hem of father's coat loosened, leaving behind deep, ugly wrinkles in its wake.  

Father was never this cruel. Father was strict, yes. He demanded only the best from his only daughter, he expected polish and grace. He worked Chelsea to the bone, but provided more than enough for her and Sitri to live comfortably as your family's lapidarist. 

Father was stern and rough, but he never… He would never…

Sinew and blood drips from his hand. Your own pulse drowns all else out of reality, and leaves the world to spin on an uneven axis. A heap of pink before the dark shadow of your father, separated by a deepening pool of sickly red. 

You trip over your own two feet to get to Chelsea, landing painfully on your knees, but the imminent bruising was the least of your concerns. Your father, terrible, cruel father, calls your name, but it echoes like a distant howl lost in a vast garden of fury. 

Arms wrapped delicately around her head, pressing her flush against your chest to let her know you're here through the frenzied rhythm of your heart. Delicate, manicured fingers gently cards through long locks of pink. You're here. You're still here even if Sitri isn't. 

A shadow casts over your trembling figures, accompanied by the familiar clicks of expensive heels. 

"Stay the fuck away from my daughter…!" A monster rages behind you. 

Even as he pulls you by the collar, you persist and instinctively drag yourself against his force, fear and defiance taking the helm of your body and mind. Bloody, warm knuckles brush against your neck and sullying your clothes. It sends sickening shivers down your spine.

But he doesn't get far. 

Chelsea lurches forward, reaching behind you and grabbing your father by the wrist. In an instant, he violently recoils, a blood curdling cry cut short by a string of the most vulgar curses you've ever heard him utter. 

Glass shatters behind you, pelting against marble tiles. Your father's anguished howls don't stop even as the chamber empties of all other sounds. 

His entire forearm is taken off- torn sleeve soaked darkly with his own blood, and you could almost see the disturbing white of his bone underneath fibrous, gory flesh. Blood spurts from broken vessels in increments, pooling over Sitri's corpse and soaking her already dirtied fur. 

Pieces of ruby-colored gems caked his gaping wound. 

You dared to sneak a peak at Chelsea, whose eyes were wide as yours. 

Protectively, she pushes you behind her, and lunges towards your father, now more monster than man. 

His nose, brows and mouth contorts into a wicked, vile snarl, high on adrenaline, and mindless enough to attempt another clumsy swipe at the younger girl.

She dodges with ease, letting him stumble from his own momentum, before twisting his other free wrist, and oh, you could see it- the way his skin breaks, splits, red, translucent stones slipping from between tight strings of muscle, breaking off bit by bit and scattering like bugs before your feet and rolling to a stop.

He pitifully collapses, face wet with tears and drool and snot. There's a sheen layer of sweat caking his head and neck, from exertion and agony, now that both his arms were turned into pellets of gemstones scattered across the chamber. 

You couldn't quite make out his expression, though you're positive it would have looked nothing like the impassive, self-assured father you once had. Chelsea's figure hovers over you, intentionally blocking him from your view. 

You can do nothing but stare up, frightful and wavering, eyes drifting over to her fingers. 

Chelsea cups your face with her bloody sleeve, frown still apparent, but her eyes hold no ill intent. Rather, it's sad, wet with tears. Having seen too much. Lost too much. Sitri is- was family to her. 

Shaky hands grips her lapel as she leans down to you on one knee. You tremble, shaken, mind still lagging minutes behind trying to process your trauma, but your gut doesn't scream danger. It never did in the presence of your Chelsea, after all.

She slowly lifts a finger to trace your hair, experimentally. It doesn't crystalize, or split, or shatter like your father's arms did, so she moves down to your cheeks, tracing a stray tear. You can feel the way it shrivels into itself, hardening and growing heavy, before it falls by itself beneath your collar, sitting heavy and uncomfortable under your shirt, but still warm. 

"You misunderstand," She suddenly says, glassy eyes still trained on yours, but she isn't addressing you. "I was only asking for your blessing, not your permission."

Her thumb hovers over your eyes, urging you to close them. Hot lips pressed against yours. Her hair tickles your jaw as she hovers above you, tilting your face to meet hers. You feel her hands groping your thighs softly. The kiss lasts for eternity, drawing your breath, like a feverish, lascivious show intended for the wrong audience…

And suddenly she withdraws as fast as she closes in, air turning frigid without her overwhelming presence. You resist the urge to peak. 

There were no final words, no parting jabs. Just a strangled gasp that puts a stop to the incessant, pained wheezing. Then it rained stones. Priceless, valuable gemstones, clacking obnoxiously and echoing across the chamber. 

When she prompted you gently, you opened your eyes in search of your lover, you were instead met with a beast, dark and muted pink. Subdued and indistinct. A shadow cast over her face, hiding the dangerous mania residing behind her gaze. 

Smiling, she leans down, content, pressing herself against your chest, lulled by the gentle rhythm of your heartbeat. Warmth shares itself between your bodies. Those useless gemstones could never compare. You're still here. You're still here, even if no one else is. 

[pepplemint]

oh ok well at least that means u wont say “i will k*ll anyone who ships *insert problematic ships in trgun*” and mean it lol

A few days ago I opened twitter and the first thing I saw, top of the page, was cctv footage of a lesbian getting stabbed to death in the middle of a mall as her girlfriend tried her best to drag her out of harms way, her head all but decapitated to in the end from the amount and viciousness of stabs she received. Her girlfriend was also murdered after because she tried to help, the post told. The killer didn't know them, he just saw them in the store and the woman was non-gender conforming. This murder happened this year, less than a week ago.

Just wanna put in perspective how freaking insignificant I find the supposed problematicness of fiction that doesn't reach further than fandom. I would never say something like that, even if your ship made me ill to even imagine. I would draw you a hundred problematic ship drawings if it meant the world felt a little safer and more peaceful to queer people for the moment.

[kazik-bitch-ass-motherfucker]

Chapter 30!!! TW: Graphic violence!

Matthew makes a contract...

[lpvncnt]

@jezebelrisen

On a good day, Lip's body is just an instrument being played by his consciousness, constantly adjusted for performance — today is turning out to be a very good day. I do not feel human. It is all so in tune. There is a slow, quiet rattle within his chest. Or maybe it is more like the fuzzy hum of a theremin, singing its sad spacey song. For certain, it is no human heartbeat nor could it ever easily be mistaken for one. One could question that he is from Earth at all if they opened him up on a table. I feel nothing. Stalking in the twinned-shadows of this juiced, luxurious enemy-crowd, a monster lives unseen. His spine is a twisting electric-tense cable, all this nonsense violence churning through his brain and thickening up, been given the time to marinate. God's gift is, truly, the power of rumination. Reliant on what is, what he would imagine to be, a similar feeling of a semi-blind, bat-like radar, and an equally blind faith in a grim mother's fairytale, is where his intuition resides. Lip is inebriated, but not quite to his detriment tonight. I'll huff, and I'll puff... All he sees around him, is some fever-dreamy-rose-colored-powder-faced-mescaline-unreality royalty, and his sick, sick leper brain pictures their pretty frills bloodied from an unforgiving barrage of gunpowder. He'd go as far as to say that they're just as beautiful covered in blood, and worth twice as much as they were alive. He vividly imagines shooting at them all with a primitive antique musket of the 18th century. And I'll blow you the fuck down... Sending them into the essence. "I would love to know," nothing but a premonition of a person, he floats into earshot and lingers beside Dmitri, avoiding casting his eyes in the other's direction. He is feigning having had to stop behind some convenient old friends who have decided to catch up in the hallway. God loves Lip, and Lip is a sucker for that sort of love where you can confess anything, so he'll take the time to pray later about how grateful he is to be graced with good timing. "You aren't ... waiting for someone, are you? You've got this, sort of ... Pitiful, look on your face," a brief glance. It is an arrow shot so close that you cannot see it, but you can hear it. A warning, maybe? "Then again, what do I know."

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

How Bill was defeated and captured by Ford in my Gf AU! He basically just tricked Bill into accepting a deal that trapped him within Ford's mind and under his control :]

He may have gotten a little out of hand though....

>:)

Next post :]

[vexxerveesvoice]

@docescene Fifteen Day Word Count Challenge Day Five: Burgundy Moonlight

Aeva poked her way through the underbrush of the forest, feeling her way through the dark with her feet. The path was familiar, at least. She and Charlotte had visited this spring hundreds of times before. The cool, deep waters washed away everything that separated them, brought them close enough to brush fingertips, even if a kiss was out of the question.

This visit felt different, though. Charlotte had sent a letter – odd, especially given the stationary: rough, with scrawling, messy penmanship, without the royal seal on the envelope – requesting a meeting outside their regular schedule. Like clockwork, they met under full moons, with the hope that the extra light would illumine their way. This invitation demanded a meeting at its polar opposite: the upcoming new moon.

Aeva tripped over a tree root and cursed. Everything about this felt wrong. Her skin was already prickling, imaginary hackles raising. She needed to hurry.

Tonight, the spring was barely visible, but she could tell from a distance that the viscosity of the water was off. It sloshed slower, thicker, like congealing-

blood. The spring overflowed with more blood than should ever be drained from a person. And in the center of the spring, floating stomach-up, face twisted in horrified surprise, lay Charlotte.

Fuck. Aeva stumbled forward, tearing off her overclothes as she entered the spring, reaching out to pull Charlotte towards her.

“Charlotte, please-” Aeva whispered. “Please, please, no-”

“Funny. I thought there’d be more wailing.”

Aeva whipped her head around to squint at the ambiguous human-shaped thing leaning against a tree.

“Derek. What did you do?”

“Is it not obvious? Her royal highness here was fraternizing with a peasant. I couldn’t let such an obvious provocation go unanswered.”

“So you drag me out here to see her dead body? What, are you going to kill me, too?”

“I’d toyed with the notion, yes,” he lifted a hand to look at his wedding ring – maybe, it was hard to tell. “But I think it will be much more satisfying to watch you be unable to grieve her properly, mourning her until the day you die.”

“I hate you.”

“Good. We’re on the same page.”

Aeva turned back towards Charlotte’s body, caressed her stiff, still-cooling face, then reached towards her necklace, daintily removing the tiny, misshapen gold ring she’d gifted her. It was all that was left of Charlotte now. Aeva pocketed it.

[sticks-and-stones-are-great]

Whumpay - Day 4

Main Challenge - Mad Science - Vivisection Mini Challenge 4 - Torture - Begging To Be Killed Original Work - The Sleeping Stones

(content warning - graphic violence)

The silvery light of the glowing noose illuminated the tears running down Ylen’s cheeks from below. He rushed to grab hold of the rope of light, and reeled back with burned hands.

“Alixor.” Ylen gasped. “Alix, what are you doing?”

“You did this.” Alixor sat down heavily in the dewy grass, panting and sweating as though he had just run miles. The spell had taken almost all of his energy. “You did this.” He gasped. “When you refused to help me.”

“What?”

Ylen fell to his hands and knees. His eyes were wide and stared into Alix’s face.

Alixor looked down to the ground, averting his eyes from Ylen’s stricken look.

“You refused to help me.” He said again, much quieter than before.

“Alix, I-”

Alixor pounded his fist into the wet grass. “You won’t help me!” He screamed. Alixor looked to Ylen again. Braved the terrified eyes. “You won’t help my people!”

A beat.

Ylen’s face softens.

But instead of looking scared, Ylen just looks sad.

“I will not kill for you. That is what you mean.”

Alixor shook his head. No, Ylen can not change this. Ylen is wrong.

Ylen continued, voice becoming stronger, the furrows of rage in his face becoming deep in the silver light shed by the noose around his neck.

“I will not use my power to kill.” Ylen said.

Alixor shook his head again, feeling tears pouring from his eyes. “You won’t help me.” He sobbed. “I need help.”

“I am not your weapon. I am your friend.”

“We are not friends. Not anymore.”

Ylen fell silent at this. With shaking hands, Alixor pulled out the rest of his supplies from his bag. When he set the ornate knife on the rock, it rang out softly against the stone. Ylen started and stared at the weapon. But he asked no more questions.

Ylen remained quiet as Alixor finished the spell and bound his hands and feet to the ground, spread-eagle.

Ylen said not a word when Alixor picked up the knife and crouched over Ylen’s body.

He only looked at Alixor. Studying him. Eyes shimmering with the light from the luminous ropes.

“I’m sorry.” Alixor sobbed.

“No.” Ylen smiled. “You are not.”

Alixor plunged the knife into Ylen’s belly and began to carve. Ylen screamed and struggled, but the shining ropes held him fast to the ground. Alixor’s vision was blurred by tears. He continued to cut and cut, laying Ylen’s body open to the air. Exposing every facet of the god’s existence. When Alixor finally found Ylen’s heart, the ground was soggy with blood.

The crimson organ beat wildly in the god’s chest, cradled in a nest of blood and bone and sinew. It was hot. Burning. It almost smoldered.

“Please.” Ylen wheezed.

Ylen had watched Alixor’s every move. Almost like he was committing this atrocity to a memory that would soon be gone.

Alixor wished Ylen would screw up his eyes and just scream. Rather than this. Rather than pleading with him. Anything but this.

“Please.” Ylen repeated. “Please kill me.”

Alixor set down his knife, now slippery with viscera.

“Please don’t use my power for this.”

Alixor had long ago run out of tears. He was feverish and thirsty at this point. Dizzy with the heat of Ylen’s burning body. Who would have thought a god of wildfire would boil on the inside? Alixor braced himself and reached for Ylen’s heart with his bare hand. He wasn’t thinking. He wasn’t lucid. The cold night spun about him and he gasped for breath.

The heart seared his flesh. Alixor cried out but did not let go. He pulled and tore and wrenched and ripped and twisted. The heart came free. Alixor slumped down on the ground, clutching at his scorched hand. The heart flopped onto the grass and continued to beat.

“Please.” Ylen continued to whisper.

Alixor sobbed, great heaving sobs that nearly choked him. He vomited bile. Then lay there for a long time trying to catch his breath.

“Please don’t use me to kill.”

Alixor, laying on his side, watched the heart continue to beat. It steamed in the cold night air. His hand throbbed. He had to do this. This was the only way. He had to save his people. This would give him the power to save everyone. Alixor reached for the heart again with his blistered hand.

“Please.”

Alixor’s mouth was scalded when he took the first bite of flesh. It hurt even more when he swallowed down the second. Agony bloomed in his stomach. He was on fire, from the inside out. Still, he ate.

Ylen watched him. “Please.”

Alixor kept eating.

[aychama]

Cw / Implied Violence

Thinking about Lambert’s backstory and getting sad…

[one-time-i-dreamt]

There was a murder in my school and Chloe Decker was investigating it, but instead of Netflix Lucifer being there with her, it was Lucifer from Hazbin Hotel.

Also Alastor (also from Hazbin Hotel) was just there, lurking in the technical graphics classroom.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

The Soldier Of Death (10)- Nightmares

Natasha Romanoff X Super Soldier Reader 18+

Summary: Soldat Smerti. The Soldier of Death. You were the perfect weapon: loyal, obedient, and merciless, or so Hydra thought. What happens when these traits are put to the test? Your captivity in the Avenger's tower and the presence of a redhead makes you realise you didn't have to be a monster. The question was though; Did Hydra make you the monster or were you always one?

This fic will contains dark themes. Please read these warnings before starting any of these chapters: graphic descriptions of murder, violence, gore and torture, heavy angst, mental issues.

Please consider these warnings before reading

Word Count: 3.7k

General Masterlist | The Soldier Of Death Masterlist

Specific Chapter Warning: Dark thoughts, flashbacks/nightmares of experiments and murder, graphic descriptions of violence and gore.

—

A knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts, blinking your eyes as your gaze flickered across your new room, briefly remembering where you were as you had zoned out for a considerable amount of time, still adjusting to the enormous change.

"Y/n?" Natasha's voice called gently from the other side of the door, an odd weight taking over your chest as a small pang of guilt invaded you, the thoughts from earlier haunting you as a mocking chuckle seemed to linger at the back of your mind, the sight of her lifeless eyes staring back at you unable to be erased. Your eyes flickered down to your hands that trembled slightly, every time you blinked the image flickering between your normal hands and blood stained ones, the darkness incessant on tormenting you, determined to ensure you suffered.

Show her the real you, let's see if she still comes crawling back to check on us.

This was the real 'you', you argued back, still refusing to accept that the darkness was truly a part of you, desperate to believe it was something Hydra put into your head and not your own sick and twisted mind.

Stop lying to yourself. You crave to hurt others, to kill others. It's only a matter of time before she sees that too.

Another knock helps drown out the sinister words, your head snapping over to the door, noticing how it opens slightly, Natasha calling your name again.

"Y/n? Can I come in?" she asks, part of you screaming no, not wanting to put her in danger while the other part of you wants her to stay with you, to help numb your conflicted state and offer a peaceful escape for a little while.

"Sure," you answer with a hesitant voice, the spy immediately picking up on your discomfort as she enters the room, her enticing green scanning over the room to see how you'd changed a few things. She noticed how the mirror in the large room was covered with a sheet, your bathroom door shut and partly blocked by the bedside table, the sofa having moved closer to the window where you were currently sat curled up, your hands hugging your knees to your chest as you stared ahead at the view. Her brows furrowed at how small you seemed, her mouth opening and closing as she was unsure of what to say, not too sure as to what caused your sudden switch in demeanour.

"Is everything alright?" she murmurs, cautiously moving to sit on the other end of the sofa you were on, observing your reaction. Your fingers started to drum against your legs in an anxious manner, your gaze still fixated on the view outside but she could tell you were watching her in your peripheral vision.

From what you could see, you noticed how the gentle glow from the sun that streamed through the window caused her red hair to appear more vivid, her skin highlighted beautifully by the light which caused it to look impossibly soft and smooth, the green of her eyes also popping as the light caused them to look even more emerald if that were possible.

"Yeah," you sigh out, aware of how obvious the lie seemed, not too bothered at the moment as you didn't want to tell her the truth, to scare her away and show her that side of you. You would never want her to see that side of you.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" she almost whispers, her eyes trained on you rather than the spectacle that was outside, the sun starting to set which was why she was originally here.

"I know," you murmur back, risking a look towards her, noticing the tenderness behind her eyes, the gentle and soft smile that she was offering to you, nothing to indicate fear or hate present on her face. A warmth replaced the odd weight that had settled in your chest, getting lost in her enchanting green as she let the gaze linger, your eyes eventually flickering away as the darkness seeps back into your thoughts.

Let me talk to her, let's see what happens then

They snickered, your jaw clenching at their mocking tone, having a vague idea of what they would do if you lost control, the desire to protect her encouraging you to continue the tiresome battle of your mind.

When you remain quiet for a little longer, the room being enveloped in silence, Natasha speaks up again. She could sense there was something going on in your mind, just not sure as to what, the redhead longing to help you be able to be free of whatever Hydra did to you, just wanting you to be able to be the real you. Not their weapon.

"Do you still want to see the sunset from the roof?" she asks in a soft murmur, not wanting to push you and make you feel as though you had to come as, although she was eager to help distract you from whatever war was going on inside you, she knew that today would have been a lot, the earlier incident of the medical tests and training along with the adjustment to everything going to have taken its toll on you.

The room once again was wrapped up in a silence as you thought over her request, the wait so long Natasha thought you may not have heard her. When her mouth opened to ask again, you responded,

"Perhaps... Another night," you whisper, looking at her with an apologetic glint in your eyes as you could tell she was just trying to help, that odd weight stomping out the warmth as disappointment took over. Earlier, you were excited to go with her but now you felt too on edge to truly enjoy it, your expression conveying your previous excitement.

Natasha doesn't take your words to heart, smiling a little as you tried to make your rejection sound as polite as possible, your words also giving her hope as you had suggested another time, your gaze flickering down to her lips as they tugged into a slightly wider smile as a small one grew on your face.

"Another night," she whispers back, her eyes holding an indecipherable glint in them as she slowly pushes herself off of the sofa to make her way back to the door, pausing and turning to look back at you. "Enjoy the rest of your night Y/n," she says with a soft smile, her tone gentle and soothing before she leaves the room, closing the door and leaving you on your own.

"You too, Natasha," you murmur back despite knowing she couldn't hear you, gaze lingering on the door before you lose yourself to your thoughts again, trying to unpick your fractured mind.

***

A sob escaped you as your veins practically glowed blue as the serum was pumped into you, fingers prying into the table you were on, denting the metal as pain coursed through you violently. A harsh whimper was ripped out of you as another needle followed the last, the restraints on your hands and feet stopping you from wriggling away from the metal needle as it slid into another vein, another wave of agony washing over your body as you could do nothing but cry out in pain. Your voice was hoarse from the last few rounds of serum, the screaming and incessant pain leaving you exhausted after each trial, this one feeling different from the last as a surge of energy seemed to consume you.

"Stay still Soldat," gritted out a scientist but you ignored their comment, your fist pulling against the restraint, snapping it with the amount of force you used. His eyes widened along with the other scientist in the room as your other hand effortlessly shattered the other handcuff, the second man running quickly to the door to escape when he found it locked, his hand wrapped around the metal handle and desperately pulling on it, knowing that he would need to leave now if he wanted to live.

You blocked out the desperate pleas from the other man as he called out to the other guards nearby, your gaze locked on the other scientist who stared at you in horror and awe, the knowledge that the serum worked again piquing your general's interest who watched behind the one way glass.

"Soldat," he trailed off while staggering back, the reality of the situation settling in his mind as you broke free of your last restraints, your eyes glossed over with darkness and malice. "Soldat-" he was interrupted by your body tackling his to the ground, the days, the weeks, the months, the years of torture and pain he inflicted on you fuelling your actions as you lost control, wanting to rip the man apart and break him.

The other scientist could only look back in pure terror as an animalistic scream was ripped out of his co-worker, your body pinning him to the ground while your hands roughly snapped the bones in his arms as he tried to pry you off of him.

"General!" The man at the door screamed, begging the man to let him be free as your hands went to the other's head, eyes holding nothing but darkness in them as your fingers pressed into his skull, killing him in the same way your general would order you to kill your victims. As usual, the bone started to strain under your thumbs, sobs leaving the man beneath you until they were silenced by a deafening crack. A sigh left you when his heart soon stopped beating, your ears zoning in on how it slowly stopped while you pulled your fingers out of what was left of his head, crimson oozing onto the concrete floor as you wiped what was left on your hands on his white lab coat, moving to stand and face the other man.

Nothing but pure rage and anger filled you as the man turned to look at you with fear in his eyes, his back pressed against the door as there was nowhere left for him to go.

They made you like this. He made you like this. It was only fair that he suffered like you did.

A gasp left you as you woke up from the vivid nightmare, your chest rising and falling as your eyes frantically searched around the room, trying to calm yourself down. You pulled the blanket up further on your body as you moved to sit on the sofa instead, not wanting to sleep in the bed as the mattress was far too soft, the feeling unnerving you as you were used to sleeping on something solid, your mind still reeling from the memory. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment but all you could feel was the warmth that enveloped your arm as your fist went straight through the other man, fingers searching their way through flesh and blood until they reached his heart, ready to rip it out and watch as his body slumped to the ground.

They deserved it

The darkness said, their voice lacking the usual mocking tone as your hands covered your face, mind thinking for a split second that you could feel the blood from the man smearing on your face as your fingers moved to cover your eyes. You didn't bother to say or think anything back to them, simply trying your best to clear your mind, the attempt futile.

You knew you weren't getting back to sleep after the nightmare, your body itching for something other to do than drown in your thoughts, the only idea being to go back down to the training room. You were a little scared to leave your room in the middle of the night, not too sure if you'd be punished or not, so you made sure your movements were stealthy, footsteps light as you navigate your way around the compound until you reach the room, noticing how quiet and empty it was.

You didn't bother flicking on the lights as the small windows present illuminated the room softly, enough for you to see where things were to let your pent up frustrations out.

It was a cycle of cardio and weights, neither seeming to help tire you out as you either lifted the heavy bar over and over again or ran for an hour on end at a ridiculous pace, the enhanced stamina seeming to be endless as nothing seemed to tire you out, your mind wanting to sleep but body desperate to stay awake.

You didn't realise how long you were at the training room until Clint came over to you with a bottle of water, his face calm and containing a smile, hiding his concerns as he could tell you had been in here for most of the night.

"Thirsty?" he asked, to which you nodded a little nervously, not keeping his gaze as you finished the bottle in almost record speed, a pant leaving you as you realised how much strenuous exercise you had put your body through. "Everything alright?" he asked and you wished he wouldn't as you didn't want to have to talk about it.

"I just needed a distraction," you reply vaguely as you knew saying 'nothing' wouldn't have been a good enough answer, not wanting him to press for any more information.

The archer saw how you shifted from foot to foot, your head turning a little at all the sounds coming from the rest of the training room, your ears picking up all the noise as you weren't utterly consumed by your thoughts. An idea popped into his mind as he saw your eyes scan the room, his hands digging into his pockets in search of something.

"Try these," he says while handing you some earphones, your brows furrowing as you had never used them before. He chuckles a little at the confused expression written across your face, his hands motioning for you to put them in your ears before his hand pulls out his phone from his pocket. "Listening to music always helps distract me," he explains before he plays the song that was already loaded, the 80s hit causing your eyes to watch him puzzled at the strange noise, your mind noticing how it helped block out everything in the background without your thoughts taking over.

Clint watched with a small smug smile as you seemed to focus on the song, helping distract you from whatever was bothering you, as Nat came to him last night to talk about you, the archer giving her the 'best friend opinion' of the situation as she was unsure of how to help you and a little worried.

"Better?" He asked once the song had finished, a smile subtly creeping onto your lips as you actually rather enjoyed the song, nodding to him before moving to take the earphone out, the man stopping you, "Keep them, I'll play the rest of the songs for you now, but then later I'll sort you out a phone and make you a playlist." The words go straight over your head but you nod anyway, thanking him quietly before doing a few more rounds of running on the treadmill, hoping to tire your body out enough that you would sleep later without any issues.

***

The next few weeks seemed to be a constant cycle of waking up to a nightmare and sneaking off down to the training room, the ear phones a necessity to you now as you slowly but surely learnt how to use the music app on the phone, Clint's suggested playlist playing in the device as you worked out every day, still unable to get a good night's sleep. You felt guilty at how distant you had been to others, especially Natasha as you still hadn't gone to the rooftop with her yet, but you made a move to stop that as Wanda approached you in the kitchen.

Your teeth sank into the apple that you took from the fruit bowl, hoping no one would see you as the open space was empty until the young witch walked in, a mission on her mind.

"Hey Y/n," her tone casual as she walked up to you, moving to go into the fridge instead, your mind on guard as you were still not used to not having to ask permission for stuff.

"Hey," you reply back with a shy tone, still a little cautious of the witch after she invaded your thoughts, the brunette understanding of your nervousness. You took another bite of the red apple, the crunch seeming to fill the silence that brewed in the room, Wanda moving to lean against a countertop as she watched you sit awkwardly on one of the stools.

"I want to apologise to you," she says after a moment, her fingers playing with the ends of her long sleeve shirt, "I'm sorry that I went into your thoughts and made you relieve those... events."

You don't look at her as brief flashes of what you remembered filtered through your mind, your eyes fixated on the half eaten apple in your hands.

"Did...Did you see them too?" you asked, wanting to confirm your beliefs about her powers.

"I did," she quietly confesses, your eyes slowly moving over to look at her, noticing the genuine apologetic tone of her voice, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry you had to see them too," you murmur, taking her by surprise, her brows raising a little as she watches your form seem to slump in disappointment. "Thank you for apologising, I'm going to head back to my room now," you say, wanting to leave the conversation as swiftly as possible but her words stop you, your head turning back to look at the witch.

"Wait," she says to stop you leaving, "We're having a movie night tonight, the whole team. I was wondering if you wanted to join us?" Her eyes hold a hopeful glint in them, your mouth opening and closing just as quick, unsure of what to say.

"I don't know," you trail off, her smiling a little as it wasn't a straight up no.

"It will be fun, I promise you," she says, excitement seeping into her tone as she had gotten to choose the film for tonight, "I know it's hard to get used to but, we're a family here, and we want to get to know you better." The cheerful and optimistic look in her eyes wins you over, the idea of being with everyone a little daunting but the thought of familiar green eyes and red hair help calm you down.

"I'll join you," you say, earning a wide smile from the young woman, the sight inevitably causing one to grow on your face before you say goodbye, making your way back to your room.

Too busy thinking about the movie later, you bump into someone who rounds the corner, a recognisable shade of red entering your vision.

"Sorry," you both say at the same time, her voice a little breathless as she came straight from the training room after her workout.

You seemed to get lost in a trance as you take in her outfit, the simple sports bra and leggings occupying your thoughts while your eyes focus on a bead of sweat that drips down her neck in a tantalising slow motion, the sigh causing a different warm feeling to take over you, the sensation a lot lower than your chest.

"Y/n?" she asks, a hint of teasing to her tone as you snap out of it, red tinting your cheeks as you realise you were staring.

"Sorry," your tone shy as you mumble the apology. "I don't know what came over me," you say honestly, missing the subtle smirk that took over the redhead's lips, moving past her to go towards your room, confused as to when she followed you. You stood frozen by your door as she went to the room next to you, her hand opening the door before looking over to you, her brows furrowed as you stared at her once more.

"What?" She asked out in a chuckle, the smile never leaving her lips as she was glad to talk to you again, noticing how you distanced yourself recently.

"Have you always been in the room next to me?" you ask, unaware that anyone was near your room, the thought of her hearing you wake up after a nightmare entering your mind.

"Yes," she says, her smile dropping a little but still present as she could see your hesitation on whether to ask a question. She remained patient with you, moving to lean on the side of the door frame, her arms crossing over her chest in a relaxed manner.

"Have... Have you ever heard me during the night?" your voice was laced with nerves as you didn't want people to know, a sympathetic look taking over her face.

"Why, what have you been doing in the night, alone?" she teased, trying to lighten the mood but the innuendo goes straight over your head, your brows furrowing at her words. Her eyes soften as she looks at you, nodding to answer your question as you look down a little embarrassed.

"Sorry if I woke you up," you mutter, not meeting her gaze.

"You can come to me if you have a nightmare," she says with a gentle voice, reassuring you that she wouldn't mind, "We don't have to talk about it, I just...I don't want you to think you're alone. We're here for you. I'm here for you." You meet her eyes after her words, offering her a shy smile before opening your own door and looking back at her, unsure of how to feel at the care she was showing you.

"Thank you Natasha," your tone is filled with appreciation as you smile at her, a warmth enveloping the redhead's chest at your softening features before you enter the room, leaving her to stare at the spot you were just at, unable to stop thinking about your smile. 

[robobrainrot]

What Fortune Favors by @fascinationex doodle

If you're cool with graphic violence, please read this fic. It's really fun and well written~ The action scenes read like an anime.

MECH is up to trouble again and kidnaps Breakdown and Bulkhead. Knockout and Miko team up to save them. Miko get the chance to be in the heat of battle like she's always wanted, but she quickly learns it's not as fun as it looks in movies.