#death wish

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you're desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Adrenaline buzzes in your ears and sears through your veins. You shouldn’t be here. Yet this place is no more treacherous than your home. Thing’s can’t get much worse so you may as well try to make them better. 

Or maybe you’re so desperate for it to end, that you don’t care how. 

You stand before the two men in their dark suits. They mutter as if you can’t hear them, “Warren’s girl.” 

“One of them,” the other intones. 

“Boss said not to bother.” 

You sway, your hands twined up behind your back. You expect to be turned away but you’re not ready for it. You chew the tip of your tongue. 

“I can wait,” you say. 

The don’t acknowledge you. They turn to block you out with their shoulders and lower their voices. One glances over his shoulder at you, Walker? Or something. 

“Your daddy send you?” He asks. 

You shake your head. You should probably lie but you’re no good at that. The throbbing in your swollen lip assures you of that. 

“So why should we let you in to see the boss? You out here at midnight looking like a tramp,” he challenges as he faces you again. 

“Hey, she looks like she’s had it bad enough. Don’t be a dick,” the other man reproaches. “Look, sweetheart,” he steps forward. “Man’s busy. With important business. Whatever you’re looking for, ask your daddy.” 

You could sob. Your father has no idea you’re there. If he did... if he knew why... 

Your shoulders slump and you hang your head in defeat. Why did you think this would work? It’s a fantasy. That same escapist wish you make every night when you cry yourself to sleep. 

You close your eyes and see Adrienne’s teary-eyes and Kitty’s helpless expression. You can’t let your sisters down. You can’t stand to see them suffer any longer. You can take it all, but it’s seeing him raise his hand to them that guts you. 

“I need to see him,” you raise your head. “I can wait.” 

You say you can but if your father realises you’re gone, if he finds out where you’ve gone, or even manages to guess why... 

Walker sighs. He elbows the other man. “Go tell him so can come back and tell her to scram on his orders.” 

The other man returns a dark look but goes inside. You hug yourself and shiver in the night air. You have only your quarter-zip sweater and a pair of silky pajama pants. You’re not surprised the men can barely keep from laughing at you. 

You wait. It takes longer than you expect. If anything, you would think they would only pretend to tell the boss. That’s what they all do. They lie. They ignore you. They just don’t care. So why are you here? Why would this go any other way? 

Before you can wave the white flag, the door opens. 

“In,” the man holds the door as he steps out.  

You flinch and Walker sneers at his partner in confusion. You’re just as surprised. The other man huffs. 

“Well, he said you got five minutes, so get.” 

You waver on your feet then scurry forward. You step inside the dark brick building, another man waiting just inside. He’s silent as he points you down the hall. He directs you with the terse gestures; upstairs, to the left, around another corner.  

You stop before a door with another duo standing vigil by the door posts. The left one knocks, tilts his head to listen, the opens it. You’re pointed inside.  

Your nerves flurry and wrap you up in a billowing storm. What are you doing? That question doesn’t matter. It’s too late. 

You drag your feet inside. The door slams at your back. The room is dim, lit only by a lamp with a glass shade on the large desk across from you. Behind that, sit a man. The man. Bucky Barnes. The boss. The king. 

He sits with his elbow bent over the armrest of his chair. He watches you calmly. You stand in silence by the door. He beckons you closer with two fingers. 

“Can’t see you back there, doll.” He says. 

You hold your breath and come forward. You gulp as you stop within a foot of the carved desk. Your eyes scour the vintage print of the wallpaper and the wooden paneling. This place is steeped in history. 

He raises his hand, cradling his face as he brings to fingers to his lips. He watches you patiently. Waiting. You stare back at him. You’ve never seen him this close. You don’t even know if your father has. 

“Why are you here?” He asks at last. 

Your eyes narrow on the gold sheen on his pinky. It’s the only safe place to look. You feel like you’ll melt in the blaze of his oceanic irises. You exhale. 

“I need someone dead.” 

He doesn’t answer. Your words dangle in the air as he mulls them. You purse your lips and wince at the pain in the split along the swollen flesh. 

“A man. The one who did that to you?” He sits up straight and points at you. You follow the glint of his ring. You nod. “Low life. Let me guess, daddy doesn’t know you been sneaking around.” 

You shake your head, “he doesn’t know I’m here. Or that I’m asking.” You take another breath as your eyes water. You bring your hand up to your cheek as it pulses. Your father’s knuckles left a nasty welt. “Because it’s him. He’s the one who did this. And I want him dead.” 

He scoffs, more amused than disbelieving. 

“Warren’s a soldier of mine. You're asking me to off him?” 

“I’m begging,” you finally make yourself look him in the eye. His is formidable man. Dark hair, dark beard, a touch of grey here and there. Even at this hour, he wears a nice suit and sits with authority. “Please, my sisters--” 

“And how are you and your sisters going to make up for his cut. He brings in money. What can you give me?” 

“You can take everything. We just want to be free,” you say. 

He clucks, “what he has now is nothing compared to a lifetime of what he can get.” 

You lower your lashes. That’s it. At least he didn’t laugh because you almost did when you said it out loud. Your father isn’t going to die. He’s so rancid, even death doesn’t want him. He’s not human, he’s a curse. And this man you’re asking for mercy, he’s the same kind. 

“Sorry for the bother,” you eke out. “I was mistaken.” 

“So you were,” he agrees. “Go home. Put some ice on it.” 

It’s like another punch in the face. You nod, “thank you, sir.” 

“You can go,” he dismisses. 

“Yes, sir.” You put your head down and drag your foot back. 

“Ah,” he tuts. 

Your eyes flick up. He extends his hand across the desk. Right. He is still who he is. You step closer as he holds his hand steady. You bow down and kiss the sigil on his ring. An outdated and demeaning gesture. 

Before you can stand straight, his large hand frames your chin. He pushes your head up as your eyes round. You stare at him as his gaze drifts down to your neck. The bruises by the zipper of your sweater tingle. 

“You were never here,” he lets you go. 

“Understood,” you retreat, “sorry again for wasting your time.” 

[sad-leon]

warm up doodle

the boys are from @remedyturtles's Death Wish because i will forever be so normal about them

[oresti-s]

“Death Wish”, Josh Alex Baker.

[cosmicwhoreo]

platformers are my nemesis to the point it's borderline masochism to me, trying to even get through the first, bloomin' level. And it's probably straight up masochism for anybody with how painful it is trying to watch me play. So Death wishes for me... Are a hassle, to put it lightly. It's a miracle I even got that far in to unlock them. but the game is fun.

extra doodlez under the cut!

golly gee i wundurr hoo me favorite character iz-

[maniccherrygirl]

[kat-theglitch]

Having feelings abt being 17 now. Literally Death Wish was at the lowest of my life and I thank @remedyturtles for that it's a wonderful fic <333

[pinkpuppy7]

i have been brainrotting.

"little kid with a big death wish" by remrose on AO3 is amazing and has taken over my brain and if you like turtles and peepaw y'all should absolutely go read it. 153k words of hurt/comfort and complete, as of recently.

(this scene is from chapter 22)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Death Wish 13

Warnings: non/dubcon, mentions of crime, violence/abuse and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Bucky Barnes

Part of the mob drabbles au

Summary: you’re desperate for a way out of your life and you ask a powerful man for help (plus!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Photo Inspo

Bucky's mouth finds yours. You murmur in surprise, unprepared after the day for his onslaught. There's a need in that contrasts your lack of. With that, a flicker of guilt sparks in you. You should not be so ungrateful. He did exactly as you asked.

Besides that, he is a formidable match. A man of stature and power and wealth. He is far above anything you could expect. As your father told you over and over, you do not deserve a real man.

You squirm as he leans into you, his hand curling around your head, trapping you as he growls and devours you. His lips smear across your cheek as he drags sloppy kisses down to your jaw. He once more grazes your neck, the hair of his beard sending a chill up your spine.

You clasp onto his sleeve and brace yourself. You know better than to stop him. You latch on, squeezing him but nothing else. He hooks his other arm around you and pulls you snug, nuzzling down to your collar.

"Doll, how can you say you're not for me?" He snarls against your shirt. "All this, any other man don't deserve it."

"Bucky," you moan his name, breathless. "I... I can't--"

He hushes you and drags his hand away from your hair, caressong your face as he snakes down to your chin. He trails along your throat and gropes your chest roughly as he digs his fingertips into your cushy flesh.

His smothering embrace scalds you and you wriggle with a helpless fervour. That feeling. You hate it. Like ice is freezes you up. You can only stay still as you watch yourself fall to the whim of a man. That same thrall that took over when your father raised his voice or his hand.

You untangle your arms from between him and slap his shoulders. The eruption of panic has you flailing. Your hand bounces off his jaw and he recoils, cradling his face as you nearly throw yourself onto the floor.

"Please," you put your palm put to shield yourself, huddling down as you brace for payback, "please, please..."

You close your eyes and cover your face, shrinking as small as you can. You steel yourself for the first strike. You wait. And wait. And wait.

He grunts softly and shifts on the seat. You press yourself to the interior of the door and whimper. "I'm sorry, I didn't..."

You don't know what you did or why you did it. It wasn't you, it was something inside of you. The little girl hiding in her closet, sobbing.

"Doll," he drawls and his gentle touch makes you wince. He runs his fingertips along your sleeve and grips your shoulder lightly, kneading tenderly, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"S-s-sorry," you fold over your lap as a swell of nausea roils in your gut. "I don't know..."

His hand crawls over your back and he rubs circles against your jacket, "damn that man," he grits. "Good riddance."

You hiss and suck back a heave. You can't cry. Not with him. You lift your head slowly and make yourself sit up. Your hand shakes as you clear your throat and stretch your fingers against your chest.

"He's gone. I'm fine," you insist, a quaver breaking through.

"You don't gotta be, doll--"

"I am." You're not.

You can't understand what happened. Why suddenly the world collapsed and you were plummeting into the past. It doesn't matter what or why. There is only now and him.

"Well," he tugs on your coat as he fixes the collar, "we're here."

The car is idle. It's only then you feel the stillness. You glance out the tinted window and back at him. He nods and turns to open the door on his side. He slides out and beckons you after him.

You follow and he offers his hand. You accept it and let him help you to your feet. He shuts the door and guides you around the car.

You approach the large house, grey brick with black trim, old world and ominous. He keeps a hold of your hand as he urges you onward. He's greeted at the front door by a man in a black suit. They loom around always, as if waiting on him.

Inside, the decor is a blend of tradition and sleek touches of modernity. You leave your shoes by the door but he keeps his soles on. He can likely afford someone to sweep up after his mess.

He takes you through a large archway, then another. In the room with a sofa with a clamshell back and matching chairs, there waits another man. He is not in black, rather a pale shade of powder blue. He greets you with the only genuine smile you've seen that day.

"Ah, Mr. Barnes," the man approaches and offers his hand. "I must say, I was right about the cut on you."

Bucky shakes his hand then retracts his arm to touch his own lapel. "And I was right about the fabric."

"And this must be the one," the man turns to you and holds his hand out still. You shake it gently. "Forgive me, I'm Castro. No, I bear no relation to whom you think. Merely a coincidence," he titters and lets you go. "I am Mr. Barnes' most prized tailor."

"He can cut a straight line," Bucky scoffs.

"Tailor?" You utter.

"Well, a new bride requires a new wardrobe," Bucky says flatly.

"Right," you agree.

"I only need measurements," Castro assures. "It won't be very long."

"Measurements?" You echo and the man takes out a tape measure, tugging its end from the shiny metal case. "Oh."

"Here," he waves you forward, "where there is room. Stand here."

You obey and go to the centre of the patterned carpet. Bucky goes to the sofa and sits, legs wide, posture casual, eyes set on you. Castro hums as he circles you.

"Raise your arms, please, miss," he says.

You do as he says and he begins his work. He loops the measure around your chest, your waist, and hips. Bucky watches unflinchingly as your skin sears with self-consciousness. You don't like it. He will see truly he's chosen wrong.

"Very nice proportions," Castro praises, "I've the perfect velvet for you, dear.”

[sad-leon]

3 AM

[kodogaron]

Life - Mother Mother

Fanart for @remedyturtles 's fic, Little Kid With a Big Death Wish on ao3!! I love this fic so much, it's incredibly profound and well written, thank you for putting it out there

"Oh yeah I lost my head again, out there on the rough and tough terrain

'spose I'll go calling out his name, say 'hey old bloke, where'd you go again?"

[alljarnopickles]

There’s a red light up ahead

I drive my car into it

I’m a little kid with a big death

wish - Baby Boy by Mother Mother

I made an edit for @remedyturtles ‘s FANTASTIC fic Death Wish on ao3! It consumes my every waking thought, it’s been plaguing me for over a year in the BEST WAY <3 Thank you so much Rem this literally changed my life!!

ART CREDITS (in order) !!!!

@sad-leon

@rbtlvr

@liketheletter-l

You all have such beautiful art! <3

[remedyturtles]

on maybe a lighter note, i am also currently rereading death wish (something must be in the air), and i myself was wondering if sensei could see casey in a similar manner to the way the boys got to see him via draxums spell. mostly so case could get to actually hug and see his dad again, even if just for a short moment, it's a concept that i thought was super sweet and would likely help both sensei and casey deal with This Whole Situation.

oops tripped and wrote 1.3k abt this my bad

[]

"Open your eyes."

Casey hugged his arms closer to his chest, heart thumping.

"Come on, hermano." Leo coaxed, jostling him from the left, a grin in his voice. "You made it in here. Don't you want to see?"

Casey wasn't sure he wanted to see, because he'd convinced himself that this wasn't going to work, that he'd climb into Leo's mind and find only darkness. That he would never see his dad again. Casey told himself it was okay, over and over, that he was okay with what he had been gifted back, that he'd thought he lost. Even if it didn't look like his dad.

But Mikey had put a bunch of effort into learning the spell from Draxum specifically for this moment. Casey carefully peeled one eye open, and a shiver ran over his skin. The atmosphere was undeniably different than reality, it had the same sensation of walking into someone else's house with your shoes on.

The ground looked like resin, back-lit with sparkling glitter, and there was the thick trunk of an enormous tree right in the middle of a gorgeous midnight blue sky, dotted with stars and constellations. The branches cross-cut through the huge ceiling and the roots crawled out in tangled fingers reaching towards their feet.

"Woah." Casey said, because this wasn't what he was expecting at all.

"Isn't it neat?" Leo spread his arm and spun in a circle, tipping his head back at the scenery. "Who knew something this cool could exist in my brain, right?"

Casey approached the tree, hand out, and pressed his palm to the bark. The sensation that washed over him was a warm bath of rosewater.

"That's Sensei." Leo told him. "Metaphorically. I have actual Sensei in here too, the tree is just a representation."

Casey had heard them say that Sensei was a tree, but it was different to see it. The knots and branches, budding green leaves and the humming feeling that ran up his arm when he curled his fingers against the bark.

"Are you ready to see him?" Leo asked, from behind him.

There was a second of quiet. Casey shut his eyes again, breathing. He didn't know what he was scared of, it seemed silly to be this afraid. But he was, because he'd accepted he wasn't going to see him like this again. And that was fine. He wasn't upset, he was grateful.

Except Sensei was in here, as he knew him, and Casey's heart splintered in a grief he could not name. Losing something, getting it back different, but being offered the chance to see the original again. Would it ruin that gratefulness? Would it hurt too much to see that version and see the shadows that should be standing behind him?

Sorrow soaked through the rough texture. Casey gathered it up tight and found his bravery from the well inside him. He said, "Yeah, yeah, I'm ready."

"You sure?" Leo said, and the worry was a lemon taste in the air. It was weird being in his head.

Casey turned around to give him a smile that he meant wholeheartedly. "Yeah, I'm good. It's just a lot."

"He is a lot." Leo agreed, and pointed behind the tree. "Head that way. I'll give you space to do that on your own. I'll be over here, I'm gonna get Mikey in so we can see who can climb the tree the fastest."

"My money's on Mikey." Casey said.

"I will take that bet." Leo grinned huge, only to immediately soften it. "Go on. He's waiting for you."

Casey trailed his fingers on the trunk, feeling the tingle like static electricity as he circled around the back. The vast night sky continued on infinitely, and it took care to step over the roots and not trip. Casey kept his eyes on his feet until he was back on that sparkling resin-like floor, heart pumping hard, as if it was trying to punch out of his rib cage. He stopped in place, afraid to raise his head.

"Now it's easier for me to appreciate now how much taller you've gotten." Sensei said.

The sound of Sensei's voice felt like a crack splintering up a pane of glass. Casey's breath caught in his throat, sore. That familiar timbre was enough to renew his bravery, and he looked up.

Sensei. The impressive height, broad shoulders, and crinkling around his eyes. The dark circles, scarring up and down his skin, and the old sorrow that he could never quite shake. All wrapped up in persistent love and care that poured off him.

Casey used to wander around bases looking for height above the crowds, remembering his heart leaping when he spotted green in the masses. Recognizing an approaching figure from gait alone, trailing behind and holding one large finger in his whole small hand. Leaping full speed at this exact image after a long mission without his dad.

He didn't feel like he'd gotten any taller. Right now, he felt about five years old. He finally breathed again, the shaky inhale dangerously close to fracturing into something else. He said, "Hey."

"Hi." Sensei smiled, and the crinkles lit up around his eyes. And he sounded just as nervous as Casey.

And that just wouldn't do. Casey closed the distance between them, not wanting his dad to be afraid that this was -- he wasn't even sure what Sensei was thinking, that he'd disappoint him or something stupid like that. So instead he threw himself full speed at Sensei with the complete confidence that he would be caught.

And he was. Sensei bent his knees enough to swoop him all the way up, singular arm iron tight and lifting him straight off his feet. Casey muffled the singular sob that escaped into Sensei's shoulder, keeping arms locked around his neck. No matter how afraid he'd been coming in, he was more terrified to let go now.

"Oh, Case." Sensei said, and kissed the side of his head. It erupted a nostalgic joy, painful and old, slotted back into place. He'd felt that a thousand times before, just like that. It felt right.

Casey merely tightened his hold in response. The glass fissured and split. He gasped for air as it shattered, and he began to cry.

"It shouldn't matter." Casey hiccuped, barely able to catch his breath. "I didn't want it to matter. I wanted -- I want it to be enough, just to have you in my life. I don't want to care what form."

Sensei hummed, and lowered them to the ground, gathering Casey in his lap and tucking him under his chin.  It broke the shards into smaller flakes, because this was his dad who could surround him completely, protect him from the world even with just one strong arm. Casey curled up small and selfishly relished the feeling of safety. The sensation of it was so unbearably familiar.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that." Sensei said, after a moment, squeezing reassuringly. "We can be grateful for what we have and equally grateful for a moment like this."

Casey soaked in the warm rosewater feeling, and reached to curl his fingers on the edge of Sensei's plastron, the tears streaking down his cheeks. He said, "Thank you."

Sensei pressed his smiling mouth to the top of Casey's head again, and said against his hair, "I love you to death, Casey Junior."

"You've loved me past that." Casey hiccuped, and squeezed his eyes shut painfully at the overwhelming rush. "I love you for a billion years."

"Oh it's a billion now?"

"I'm ambitious."

Sensei chuckled and squeezed again, in all the ways he'd been missing.

Casey didn't think about when they'd have to let go. They had a billion years, after all.

[maniccherrygirl]

[cimmerian-war-shrine]

[marisiss]

I had to make her huge hands, or she couldn't strangle him in any way with small hands xd

Dunno about original, i just got inspired from these post with TADC about this and i thought it was a very good chance to do with ahit, lmao

[cosmonautroger]

Charles-Bronson, Death Wish, Michael Winner, 1974