#i just kind of want to be turned off and then on again like waterboarding a computer

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Lost Boys Sick!Mate Headcanon

(For whoever requested a Sick Mate Headcanon for the Lost Boys, I hope you enjoy this)

David

•David wants to change you immediately

•He hates seeing you sick, miserable or in any kind of pain and while most people wouldn’t believe David can be sympathetic, for you he very much is

•He has been trying to get you to turn for a long time and while this is a convenient way of convincing you, he really just wants you to get better

•David hasn’t been sick in…several hundred years. He’s the oldest out of the whole pack and so he remembers sickness the least of all of them, the only thing he can relate it to is not feeding for a long amount of time and he knows how painful that gets to be

•He would lay with you in the bed in the cave, whether you live with them in the cave yet or not, that is where you will be staying and you have no choice, he won’t let you be alone while you’re ill

•He often gives you massages whenever your muscles are achy, he knows how good it makes you feel and it makes him feel like he’s able to do something to help you, even if it’s just to relieve a small bit of your discomfort

•He’ll definitely make Marko go out to get you food, though he doesn’t know what kind of food since you keep insisting that you aren’t hungry

•David wants to care for you, he just has no clue how and if you weren’t sick as a dog, it might even be adorable how frazzled he is

Overall Grade of Care: 4/10

Dwayne

•Dwayne would be a major worrier every single time you get sick

•While he doesn’t remember what it’s like to personally be sick, he does remember his younger sister being sick when he was human and dying of a fever, so every time you’re even remotely warm he attempts to put you in an ice bath

•When you are bed ridden he is sure to make you stay in the cave, he’s always by your side and will often sit and read to you until you drift off to sleep

•He tries to keep you fed as much as you’ll allow with your upset stomach and he gives you plenty of water, to the point you wonder if vampires can survive being waterboarded cause you’re ready to kill him

•Dwayne is very much like David, he doesn’t know how to take care of a human that’s sick and he doesn’t understand that sometimes you just need to let an illness run it’s course

•Eventually he would buy some medicine at the store (Marko’s recommendation) and give it to you. He’s completely stunned by how quickly you finally fall asleep with how badly you’ve been coughing but the medicine works

Overall Grade of Care: 5.5/10

Paul

•Paul is chill when you get sick, he knows most of the time it’s just a little cold

•He gives you a few shots of whiskey and smokes a joint with you until you pass out, most of the time you wake up feeling better

•When you don’t however, he becomes frantic

•He will run around like a human having a manic episode. He makes sure you’re as comfortable as you can be, and if you’re not he goes to the store and buys more pillows and softer blankets. Hell get you new pajamas and more boxes of tissues than you’ll ever use

•He cleans the entire area you’re in as best he can in a cave, trying to get rid of germs that could make you sick all over again. It would be funny if you didn’t want to strangle him for moving so supernaturally fast that he makes you even more dizzy which makes your stuffy head hurt more

•He tries not to bother you too much, getting you to sleep as much as he can because apparently humans only heal when they’re sleeping so you need to sleep until you feel better

•He doesn’t quite understand that there’s a limit to how much NyQuil you can take

•Paul means well and he wants to help, he just goes too far with it most of the time

Overall Grade of Care: 7/10

Marko

•Marko is probably the best of the boys to have taking care of you when you’re ill

•He gets you medicine immediately and actually reads the instructions to give you the correct dosage

•He ensures you are comfortable in the bed, making sure to keep the blankets on when you’re cold and removing them if and when your fever gets too high

•When you’re too warm, which seems to be most of the time, he will strip to his boxers and crawl into bed with you, his cold skin making you feel better almost instantly

•He goes to the store and gets you whatever you want but also picks some things for you to make you feel better. He gets you your favorite tea bags to make you hot tea, the Chamomile helping to calm you and be able to sleep better, he also gets you some cans of coke to sip on when your stomach is upset

•He makes you soup everyday to keep you eating, even if you cant hold too much down, it’s not too heavy on your stomach

•Marko will also rent movies (and by rent I mean take them from Max’s store when he’s not looking) to bring back for you two to watch together to keep you entertained

•Marko was a human not too long ago, Paul being the only one younger than him, and he remembers very well how to take care of sick people, he is very good at making sure you get well as quickly as you can

Overall Grade of Care: 9.5/10

Lost Boys Masterlist

[wambsgansshoelaces]

thank you @su240210 for requesting 🫶🏽 I love u pookie I’m literally your biggest fan 🫂

anyways here’s your daily dose of the he older/‘other’ women of succession; they don’t really get that much love

how you meet (wlw; rava, gerri, karolina)

Rava

ᝰ you’re a yoga girly

ᝰ even though you started out really slow, you’ve come to really enjoy it

ᝰ the instructors have you model all the time

ᝰ it makes you feel cool

ᝰ but today, you’re coming off of a bit of a depressive spiral

ᝰ so you stay in the back for the sake of relaxation

ᝰ you honestly just feel like lying face down on your mat

ᝰ but when you stretch, your head clears

ᝰ “oh, wow, you’re so flexible!”

ᝰ you look over, and it’s her

ᝰ you’ve never seen her before

ᝰ but you want to see her again

ᝰ you give her a small smile

ᝰ she smiles back

ᝰ you think you get a bit dizzy

ᝰ “how do you do it?”

ᝰ you come out of the pose, laying flat on your stomach

ᝰ “lots of practice. i come here a lot.”

ᝰ “you think i could get there, one day, too?”

ᝰ “sure you can.”

ᝰ “ah, i’m sorry. i’m rava. i’m trying to get out and try new things, put myself out there…”

ᝰ “well, then, rava, i hope you keep coming.”

ᝰ “do you do every class?”

ᝰ “every single morning one.”

ᝰ “i hope you don’t mind a new elbow buddy, then.”

ᝰ “i really don’t. you’re truly always welcome.”

Gerri

ᝰ you’re an attorney

ᝰ your firm is handling some things for waystar

ᝰ this is your first waystar specific case

ᝰ everyone avoids the company like the plague

ᝰ you’ve only heard horror stories

ᝰ even the building is horrifying

ᝰ the lady you’re supposed to meet is late, on top of it all

ᝰ you get sick of sitting and get up to pace the conference room

ᝰ “i’m sorry i’m- oh, hello.”

ᝰ you watch her face flush when you look up at her

ᝰ “y/n?” she asks after a moment, clearing her throat

ᝰ “gerri?”

ᝰ she sits, beckoning for you to do the same

ᝰ “so we’re both in the right place. good! great!”

ᝰ she’s all flustered the rest of your meeting

ᝰ you kind of like it

ᝰ she’s turning pink

ᝰ you don’t say anything, just give her that dazzling smile of yours

ᝰ she thinks you’re gorgeous

ᝰ like blindingly

ᝰ the debrief goes quickly

ᝰ “i know it’s all less than ideal… we have our work cut out for us.”

ᝰ “well, regardless, i’m excited to be working with you, gerri.”

Karolina

ᝰ you’d gotten your nose into some weird waystar business

ᝰ a bunch of shit you shouldn’t have seen

ᝰ not to your surprise, they sent the fucking press army to your house

ᝰ when you open the door, she startles at the sight of you

ᝰ “um, come in.”

ᝰ there’s way too many people in your house right now

ᝰ you kind of just sit in the corner so you can monitor everyone

ᝰ you don’t know if you’re about to be bribed or killed

ᝰ she comes up to you after they grill you

ᝰ you honestly felt like you were being waterboarded

ᝰ “i just wanted to apologize… these things can be kind of rough.”

ᝰ “i really don’t see why i have to go through all this.”

ᝰ you do

ᝰ you just think they were doing it in the worst way possible

ᝰ “if it were up to me, this wouldn’t be happening.”

ᝰ she gives you a soft smile

ᝰ but you don’t really trust her

ᝰ you can’t, can you?

ᝰ “if anyone gives you too much trouble, give me a ring, okay?”

ᝰ she hands you her business card

ᝰ karolina novotney; head of PR

[whumpsmith-participates]

AI-less Whumptober 2024

Day 15 - waterboarding

Tags/CW: torture, inexperienced whumper, begging

Charles Breckenridge was kidnapped again. Or, actually, this was one of the first times, as it happened earlier on the timeline than the last time I told you about Charlie. This time he wasn't knocked out in a sudden car wreck. Instead, he knew exactly what was going on before it happened, only he was unable to get away in time after he realised it.

This time, the driver who claimed to be filling in for a co-worker who had come down with the flu turned out to be his kidnapper, driving him into a secluded alley and suddenly assaulting him with a syringe filled with some kind of sedative...

They kept him tied to a chair and blindfolded. In hindsight that made sense. Charlie would also want to protect his identity if he was doing something illegal like kidnapping someone and holding them hostage for ransom. Either way he could only really rely on sounds, which did tell him quite a lot.

There was only two of them. And it was obvious which of the two was in charge. He was older, more cruel, and generally unpleasant. The other one wasn't exactly better. He sounded younger, got pushed, smacked and ordered around by the older one, and somehow seemed okay with it all.

Charlie never learned their names. They were careful to refer to each other specifically by something that wasn't easy to identify. The older one just demanded to be called 'sir' and he just called the younger one 'kid.'

Charlie spent most of his time with the kid. He didn't really make for a lot of interesting conversation. Avoiding answering almost all his questions, but when he did they just concerned Charlie about the kid's wellbeing...not to mention his own.

He warned Charlie how bad his partner could treat people. Seemed to almost relish in describing some of the horrific things he could do, but Charlie couldn't see his face, so he wasn't too sure how accurate that observation was. Besides, if the kid enjoyed all of it, why would he give advise on how to avoid getting hurt?

It happened after his first night with them. The kid was escorting a blindfolded Charlie back to his chair after a bathroom visit, both of them overhearing the older one on the phone.

"Change of plans? What do you mean change of plans? .....No of course I'd rather keep the cops out of this, but if I can't chop anything off, what else am I supposed to send? ......of course I now a way, just know it'll cost ya extra!"

Charlie stopped walking as he was starting to get an idea of what was being discussed.

"W-what is he talking about?"

"Hush. You'll be okay." the kid just said, "Chair's behind you. Just sit down."

"Will I?" Charlie asked quietly, carefully lowering himself until he was sure he was indeed sitting on the chair. "Because it sounds like he wants to torture me!"

"Just don't make any smart comments," the kid said, his voice barely a whisper, "stick to 'no sir' or 'yes sir' and he'll go easy on you—"

"Kid..."

Charlie couldn't help but to jump as the older one was suddenly standing a lot closer to them. He could hear the click of a lighter, followed by the penetrative scent of smoke and tobacco.

"What'd I tell you about too much chatting with the hostage?"

"You always have a lot to say about that— Ow!"

It sounded like the older one settled the kid with a decent smack, and it got him to quiet down while the older man stepped closer to Charlie from the smell of it.

"Aren't you the lucky one, Mr Breckenridge?" he said, "Apparently someone tipped off the police, so we need to give your parents a lil nudge, but my client insists you don't have to sacrifice any digits just yet."

"P-police?" Charlie stammered, paling at the man's words, "T-they wouldn't tell! This has to be a mistake!"

"It doesn't matter who snitched," the man said, "someone did and now it's up to you to inspire mommy and daddy to transfer the cash faster. Understood?"

Charlie wanted to protest more, but he remembered the kid's advise and decided to play along in the hopes that he would just have to film a ransom video.

"Y-yes, sir..."

"Attaboy!" the man said, thankfully stepping away. "Grab the ropes, kid. We're tying him to the table— Oh and get the jacks from the van."

"...sir?"

"You'll see what we'll use them for. Go on."

"W-what are you going to do to me?" Charlie shakily asked, "I-I thought we would just film me talking to the camera..."

"We'll do that after," the man said, "gotta make sure the tears are real first."

"I-I can get you real tears!" Charlie pleaded, "J-just give me a second!"

"You'll get plenty of seconds." The man said, "Besides, it's a good teaching moment. Now get up."

"T-teach what?" Charlie asked breathlessly.

The man didn't reply. He simply grabbed a painful hold on Charlie's arm and forced him to stand up, yanking him—presumably—towards the table.

"About time. Help me tie him to the table."

"N-no! Please!" Charlie shouted, starting to sob a bit.

"Oh look, you can cry on command," the man said.

"What are you going to do to him?" the kid asked, having apparently returned.

"We are going to tie him to the table and then you are going to learn something new," the man said.

"S-sir...?"

"Shut up and hold him down for me."

It seemed Charlie's struggled and protests were completely ignored as the rope tying is wrists behind his back was cut and he was promptly manhandled onto the table. His hands were forced above his head, large hands pinning him down, carefully replaced by smaller hands.

Charlie tried to struggle, desperately trying to pull his arms free so they wouldn't do whatever they had planned for him. But after a moment a new, coarse, rope was wrapped around his left wrist and pulled tight, before it was yanked towards one of the corners of the table. Then they repeated the process on his right hand, spreading his arms from one corner of the table to the other.

"Okay, now stop him from kicking."

"Easy for you to say..."

Feeling the kid's hands on his legs, Charlie instinctively began kicking, managing to get a lucky hit in. He only vaguely registered his foot colliding with the kid's stomach, but he was too busy sobbing and pleading to apologise as he pulled against the ropes binding his wrists.

"Really?" the older man commented as the kid appeared unsuccessful in pinning their hostage down.

After a deep sigh, his large hands caught and pressed down on Charlie's knees, reducing his kicking before landing a painful blow to his thigh with his elbow, probably leaving a nasty bruise.

"Knock it off!" he snapped, only just audible over Charlie's pained cry. "Don't just stand there, tie his legs!"

"P-please! Just let me go!" Charlie begged as his legs were slowly pulled apart and stretched towards the remaining corners with coarse rope wrapped around his ankles.

"That's not how this works, you know that," the man said mercilessly.

"I did everything you asked!" Charlie pleaded, "I behaved! Why are you doing this?!"

"Because it's never your own actions that influence your life now, is it?" the man simply replied, before stepping away and tightening the four ropes holding Charlie in place.

Charlie tried to struggle, but the more he pulled against the ropes, the more they dug into his skin. Bruising his delicate wrists to the core, though that was the least of his worries right now. The man and the kid seemed to ignore him for now. The former being too busy bossing the latter around.

"Okay, now I'll lift the table on this side, and you're gonna put the jacks underneath each leg. We want him at an angle."

"Why, sir?"

"So he doesn't die."

"DIE?!" Charlie sobbed.

"You're not gonna die." the man said, "No on my watch at least..."

"I-I don't believe you!" Charlie cried, "Just let me go!!!"

"Can't we gag him for this?" the kid suddenly piped up, much to Charlie's chagrin.

"Unfortunately not." the man said, beginning to use the jacks to lift the table further, until Charlie felt like he was about to slide off.

"Okay, that should do it." the man decided, "Now we'll need a cloth and water."

"Oh..." the kid slowly said, as if something only now dawned on him, "that's what you wanna do."

"No," the man said, "that's what you are going to do."

The kid groaned in response, his footfalls slowly subsiding as he walked off.

"W-what are you having him do?" Charlie asked, his voice not much more than an anxious whimper.

"You'll see— In a manner of speaking, of course."

Charlie whimpered and weakly pulled against the ropes, hoping there would finally be some give, but all he accomplished was to tighten them, pulling them deeper into his raw skin. Though, soon that was the least of his worries, as it sounded like the kid returned with the requested supplies. All but literally dragging his feet.

"Do I have to?" he asked.

"Did I tell you to do it?" the man countered.

"Y-yea, but—"

"No buts. You do as you're told and that's final."

"Yes, sir..."

"P-please...please don't do this..." Charlie begged.

"Ignore him," the man instructed, "you know he'll be fine if you do this right."

"But I've never done this before," the kid argued, not instilling a lot of confidence.

"You've seen me do it plenty of times," the man said, "see one, do one, teach one — as they say in medical school."

"They don't teach waterboarding in medical school..."

"W-WATERBOARDING?!" Charlie sobbed loudly, only to be ignored once more.

"Stop stalling and do as you're told," the man said.

"N-no! Please! Let me go!"

"It'll be over before you know it," was the only comfort the kid offered, before draping something soft over Charlie's face. Then he clamped his hand over his mouth, keeping him still and silent while the older man gave further instructions and pointers.

"It's better if you grab him by the hair to hold him still. And then you just pour until he needs a breather."

"H-how do I know when he needs a break?" the kid asked, switching his grip from Charlie's face to his hair.

"P-please...."

"You can take an educated guess," the older man just said.

Charlie could feel the grip on his hair tighten, before cold water was suddenly poured over the cloth covering his face. He promptly stopped protesting, pressing his lips together as he could feel the water dribble through the cloth. He writhed anxiously in his bonds, breathing carefully through his nose, only to realise that he was just sniffling up more water. He sputtered, coughed, and inhaled more water. Enough to choke him up, but not enough to flood his lungs to drown him.

After what seemed like an eternity, the cloth was suddenly lifted off his face, allowing him to breathe again. Charlie coughed violently between gasps of air, unable to form any coherent words, though he wanted to plead and beg.

"You could've gone a little longer," the man said, "but not bad for a first attempt."

The kid didn't respond to him. Not verbally at least. Charlie couldn't really bring himself to care. He just wanted it to stop.

"Please..."

He pleaded weakly, before descending into a coughing fit again.

"Now rinse and repeat, kid."

"N-no wait—"

The cloth and the water returned, as did Charlie's coughing and sputtering. He thrashed and writhed, but the ropes tying him down and the hand gripping his hair prevented him from fighting back too much.

Please! he thought, Please let it be over soon...

"That's enough. You don't want him to suffocate."

Sweet salvation. Charlie coughed so violently he finally managed to at least wrench his head free, lifting it up so he could try and cough up the bits of water he'd inhaled.

Please let that be it... Please let that be it... Please—

"I think once more for good measure," the man said, "and another time for fun."

"I'm not having fun, sir."

"I am~"

"P-please....not again..." Charlie weakly begged.

"Hasn't he had enough?" the kid asked.

"Do you want me to take over? I could go all day."

"N-no, sir, I'll do it!" the kid quickly said, "Just two more..."

It almost sounded as if those last words were supposed to be some kind of reassuring as he weaved his fingers through Charlie's damp hair before grabbing a tight hold and pulling his head back whilst putting the cloth back over his face. The thought of going through that again filled Charlie with dread, despite the attempt at comfort from his younger captor.

"No no no...."

@ailesswhumptober @lavndvrr for the dynamic duo ;)

Charlie belongs to @illustriousshadow

Masterlist Main account

Based on an RP I did with my homie.

[thesleepy1]

The Sniffling Tiger

A/N: I have loads of things that I should be doing. Am I doing those things though? No. No I am not. Instead of getting work done, I am writing a fanfic. :D This one is another incorrect quote by the lovely @devil_in_westwood on instagram.  

Pairings: Sebastian Moran x Jim Moriarty

Summary: Sebastian is taken by the Virgin and his Soldier. All that he can hope for is a swift death before Jim finds out that he’s gone.  

Or, 

“Sherlock: Where’s your owner. 

Sebastian: I aint’ tell you SHI—wait what you call him?

Sherlock: *to john* After all the blows to the head he must be losing his hearing… Your OWNER, Colonel where is he? 

Sebastian: Oh fuck you virgin, I heard what you said. But he’s my Boss not my owner. 

John: Tell that to the GPS microchip in your neck.” 

Word count: 924

Warnings: Violence, possessive!Jim, dark!Jim, brief mentions of torture, brief mentions of water boarding, language,

Sebastian was going to catch a cold. He just knew it. He should’ve put on the jumper that Jim had been nagging him about. But he had wanted to be a brat and now he was paying for it. 

The sniper didn’t actually think that Sherlock was going to waterboard him. He thought that it was an empty threat. The pale, lanky man looked like a swift breeze would blow him over, let alone be capable of torturing anyone. If anyone was going to draw blood, Sebastian had thought that it would be Johnny boy. 

Boy was he wrong. 

The dirty water was soaked into his clothes, clinging to his skin. His hair was damp. His gooseflesh had gooseflesh. A draft from an open window made him shiver. Sebastian hated that he knew his skin would be flushed red right now. The cut on his lip wasn’t helping his appearance either.

Suffice to say, Sebastian wouldn’t be winning any beauty pageants in the future. 

“Where’s your owner?” That came from Sherlock. The man was in his signature overcoat, a scarf snuggly tied around his long neck. 

“I ain’t telling you SHI—wait what did you call him?” 

Sherlock turned to look at his soldier. “After all the blows to the head he must be losing his hearing…” His head turned on a swivel back to Sebastian. Blue-green eyes glared down. “Your OWNER, Colonel, where is he?” 

Sebastian spat venom, “Oh fuck you virgin, I heard what you said. But he’s my boss, not my owner.” 

John gripped Sebastian’s sandy hair in a vice. He tugged Sebastian’s head back, exposing his neck. “Tell that to the GPS microchip in your neck.” 

Sebastian laughed at a punchline only he knew. It wasn’t the happy kind of laugh either. It came with thick mucus and sniffling snot. “Jim likes to keep track of his assets. I’m not a fucking dog, I’m a weapon he doesn’t like being misplaced.” Sebastian laughed again, his voice rough. “A dog would get better treatment.” 

“Oh I bet you get treated just fine,” Sherlock said with a condescending tone. “You probably get to sleep at the foot of his bed if you behave, don’t you?” 

Sebastian tensed up, wrenching his head out of John’s grip and glaring at the floor. His breaths were coming in heavy. “Fuck you. You know nothing about me.” Sebastian was going to break his hands to get out of his bindings if he had to. He really did not want to be here. 

“But I do, Colonel Moran. Or…what was it Jim called you again? Panther? Lion…? Ah, something with patterns.” Sherlock held his chin as if deep in thought. He had a shit eating grin plastered on his face. “That’s right. Tiger.” 

“Shut up!” Sebastian snarled. “You have no right to use that name.” 

“Well if you prefer pussy cat, I can call you that too,” John added with a smirk of his own. 

“Tiger’s a much better fitting name for him. You should see his lovely strips sometime…” Jim said in a singsong voice. “Then again, I’d have to kill you after. His strips are for my eyes only.” The gun pressed to John’s head was for theatrics, but the present audience didn’t know that. 

They could all hear when the safety was off. 

“Sherlock,” Jim sang. “You know better than to take away my toys. I wasn’t done playing with him just yet.” 

“Kill John and I will stop at nothing to end you,” Sherlock threatened. Everyone present knew he meant it too. 

“Take away my tiger again and we’ll see what I’m capable of. You’ve seen nothing, Sherlock. NOTHING.” 

Sherlock seemed to debate the odds in his head for a second. All was quiet. 

“Fine…Take him and leave. No one has to get hurt.” 

“He’s bleeding, Sherlock. You’ve already broken my toy.” 

Sherlock gestured to his own lips. “Do the same to me. Then we’re ev—” 

Jim took the opening before Sherlock was even finished. Only Jim didn’t aim for the mouth like offered. He went for Sherlock’s nose. He felt his knuckles ache, knowing with certainty that he broke bone. 

“Now we’re even.” 

***** 

Sebastian couldn’t stop sneezing as he got off the elevator. He was definitely sick.Which made an already shitty day worse. Jim didn’t like anything to do with germs, let alone spend time with someone with the flu. He was going to make Sebastian sleep on the couch or have him stay at a shabby safe house with no heating. 

Sebastian hugged his arms to conserve what little heat that he could. “Thanks for getting me, boss.” He coughed, the action causing more pain than it was worth. “Let me get some warmer clothes and then I’ll head out.” 

“Where do you think you’re going?” 

“To a safe house…? Cause I’m sick?” 

Jim pressed his lips together into a straight line. He had never looked so visibly angry, “If you think I’m going to let you out of my sight then Sherlock must’ve hit you harder over the head than I thought. 

“B-but I-I,” Sebastian stumbled at a loss for words. “But I’m sick? 

“All the more reason for you to stay close to me. You can’t defend yourself in this state.” Jim pointed into the direction of the bathroom. “Go. I’m running you a bath.” 

“Really?” Sebastian couldn’t keep the hopeful smile off his face. 

“Don’t look so happy. The minions will accuse me of abusing my pets. Don’t make me change my mind.” 

Sebastian never ran so fast.

[walker-extended-universe]

We Go Down Together, Ch 2

Ch 1

Relationship(s): Cassie Perez & Cordell Walker

Tags/Warnings: Torture, Kidnapping, Waterboarding, Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence

Summary: While Cassie and Cordell wait for rescue, their captors take things up a notch

Written for @whumpuary Alt Prompt 4: Forced to Watch

Taglist: @theladywyn, @klaatu51, @ihavepointysticks, @itsjessiegirl1, @neptunium134

-------

Cassie was losing track of time. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been held, only that it had been more than 36 hours, which she only knew because Walker said so. She wasn’t sure how long ago that had been.

She knew she was tired. She knew she was cold. She knew she was hungry. She knew the concrete floor was comfortable enough to go to sleep on but she was still dozing off, which wasn’t helping her sense of time at all.

“They’ll find us,” Walker said out of nowhere. “James knows what he’s doing.”

“Yeah, they will,” she agreed. She glanced over her shoulder at the moonlight filtering through the window.

“We just need to hold out a little longer. That’s all.”

“Trying to convince yourself or me over there?”

Walker smiled wryly. “Can’t it be both?”

Cassie tried to smile back. “Well…. Got any fun games to play while we’re trapped here? They probably taught you some in the marines, right?”

Walker hummed. “Yeah, but there’s no ceiling tiles or dead rats for us to count. And I was told ‘I Spy’ could get us killed so you may just have to be bored for a while.”

Cassie would take being bored over the alternative. “Guess we’ll just have to keep ourselves entertained then. Got any fun stories? Maybe including some potential theories on who these guys are and what they want from you?”

He sighed. “The only thing I know is that they, allegedly, want me to join up with them. As far as who they are and why they want me…. I’m guessing this is tied up in what Miles was looking into since it sounds like they’re looking for a replacement for Fenton….”

She snorted. “What? So to get you to work for them they kidnap you and threaten you? Doesn’t sound like the best recruitment strategy.”

“Agreed. Which has me wondering if there’s a bigger motive. Then again, Fenton was ready to kill himself to avoid their wrath….”

“Yeah, I guess….” She caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see something lowering from the vent. “Walker.” She motioned toward the vent. “Looks like it’s coming down on your side.”

He followed her gesture and carefully made his way over to the edge of the cage. “An…origami swan?” He caught it as it fell from the vent and brought it in. “Do we have a fellow captive?”

“Sounds plausible. Is there a note on that thing?”

Walker untied the swan and unfolded it, frowning and turning a blank page toward her. “Nothing. Unless…” He picked up the string and stared at it. “Knots. There’s knots.”

“Some kind of code?” Cassie supplied.

“Exactly.” Walker silently counted the knots. “0007…. That’s flight codes.”

“Is that important?”

“Maybe….” Walker turned the string over in his mind. “Maybe it’s a message. Or maybe they just want us to know they know codes….”

“Right….” Cassie stood up and got as close to the vent as she could. “Hey! You still up there?!”

“Quiet!” a woman’s voice hissed. “They’ll hear you.”

Walker gave her a Look but stood up to the vent as well. “Sorry. We, ah, got your message. Can you… Who are you?”

“My name is Julia. Julia Johnson. I’m a journalist,” she said. “I’ve been investigating these psychos for the past year. Are you a Texas Ranger?”

“Uh, yeah, we both are,” he confirmed.

Julia cursed. “I knew it…. They needed a new guy after Fenton….”

“So this is about Fenton?” Cassie still thought that was a weird recruitment process but if Julia had been investigating them for a year, she must know her stuff. “Why are they doing it this way?”

“It’s how they operate,” Julia said gravely. “They break you down and then build you back up again, mold you into what they want. They’ve done it to so many… They’re experts.”

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, like a door being opened. Cassie whipped around to check their door but soon realized it was coming from upstairs. “No… NO!” Julia shouted off some random numbers (probably another code Cassie didn’t recognize) as she was taken away from the vent.

“Don’t worry,” said another, smoother, male voice that had Walker clenching his jaw. “I’m sure you two can keep each other company.

Cassie swallowed hard and, not for the first time, wondered if she might be in over her head here.

—-------------

The introduction to Julia (and her sudden removal) left Cordell rattled for the rest of the day. With nothing to do but think and make bad jokes with Cassie, there was little else for him to focus on.

“What are you thinking about?” Cassie asked him out of nowhere.

He hummed. “Thinking about the roast Mama’s gonna make for us when we get out of here,” he lied. “What about you?”

Cassie shrugged. “Ben. He’s probably freaking out right now. I hope he’s okay….”

Cordell nodded. “I’m sure he is. He’s got Liam.”

“Yeah….”

There was clanging outside the door and Cordell slowly stood up, ready to face whatever their captors were going to throw at them next.

He tried to put himself between them and Cassie as much as he could, but as soon as the cage door opened, he was shoved back against the bars opposite Cassie. Two of the goons held him in place and, even without the leash on his ankle, he wasn’t really in a state to fight them. He was too hungry, tired, outnumbered, weak.

Which meant all he could do was watch as the other two went to Cassie.

One of them grabbed her by the arms, holding her firmly to his chest while the other brought in a waterboarding chair. She struggled, but like Cordell she was tired and hungry and didn’t have nearly enough strength to fight back in any meaningful way. It wasn’t long before she was strapped down and anything she had to say was muffled by a cloth laid over her face.

Then the water started.

And all Cordell could do was watch. “This your big plan?” he growled, trying to sound more confident than he was. “We’re Texas Rangers! We don’t break easy!”

“Maybe you don’t.” Cordell whipped his head around to see Sean lurking in the background. “What, with your history in the marines and all. But a greenhorn like her?” He shook his head. “She won’t last that long. We both know that.”

Cordell narrowed his eyes. “Drastic measures, I assume?”

“I did warn you.”

The sound of Cassie choking brought Cordell’s attention back to her. He tried to break his arms free but there was no use.

All he could do was watch as wave after wave of water assaulted his partner. In between waves, when Cassie might have a moment to breathe, one of them hit her with the cattle prod. It was torture just to watch.

It didn’t take long for the message to click. Sean wasn’t going to wait around for Cordell to break. Given his training and experience, it would be a waste of time. But Cassie? She would break. And if watching her fall didn’t break him, he knew they’d take it further.

And all he would be able to do was watch.

It was too long before it was over. Cassie was put on the ground, coughing her lungs up in a puddle, and still they held Cordell back. It was only the sound of his leash being undone that kept him from lashing out.

Once he was let go, he scrambled to her side of the cage. “Hey, partner,” he said gently. “It’s over. You’re okay. We’re okay….” Pretty little lies like that kept falling from his lips; he couldn’t tell who he was trying to convince more as he all but put her in his lap. “We’re gonna get out of this,” he promised.

Cassie coughed again, weaker this time, but nodded. “Yeah…. We will….”

Cordell went without sleep again that night, splitting his energy between coming up with a plan and watching over his partner.

He wasn’t going to watch Cassie break.

[painful-pooch]

Oooh, asks for your bbs? 👀 I'd like to see how Bruno and Oscar interact!

I have been thinking about this long and hard, and I was gonna go somewhere whumpy with it, but Oscar deserves soft. I suppose I could say what my original plan was. It was Bruno teaching Oscar how to fire a gun properly, but I realized Oscar may not like that too terribly much!

Bruno knows Oscar's birthday is right around the corner, so he manages to convince Oscar to put a blindfold on and stay in the car while Bruno drives them to a small, local game shop he has heard so much about. "Are you excited, buddy?"

Oscar makes a small face, messing with the curls of his hair and shrugging. "I don't think being blindfolded and being driven would be something exciting. Am I going to get waterboarded?"

"What?? This is for your birthday, Oscar."

"Still didn't answer my question... Birthday waterboarding isn't a tradition I find too terribly comforting, Bruno."

Bruno groans and removes the blindfold off Oscar, beckoning to the game shop. "See for yourself. You got it? No one is going to waterboard you and I am getting you a present."

Oscar is blinking at the game shop, his head turning to face Bruno, excitement beaming from him. "What's my present?"

"So I am not the kind of guy who is good at the uh..."

"Being soft around others?"

"Shush. But yeah. Don't worry, I don't expect anything from this at all. Just want you to have a good birthday and to have fun before Khrystyna and Lukas throw you a surpise party." Bruno winks at Oscar and holds his hands up. "I mean, oops, I just gave away the surprise."

Oscar gently places a hand on Bruno's arm, patting it awkwardly while smiling. "Thank you. For the heads up. So..." He faces the store again and hums, "What are you going to get me?"

"Oh, I almost forgot." Bruno pulls out his wallet, handing Oscar his Platinum credit card. "Go bonkers. I heard they have this really nice chess set in there that's hand carved out of wood, so you can rub at it and get that nice groove you like putting on your chess pieces. Oh, and I heard they have fire emblem figurines..." The smirk on his face grows when Oscar takes the card and sprints out of the car and into the shop after mouthing 'thank you'.

"Happy birthday, Oscar..." Bruno leans back into the car seat and sighs happily. About a few seconds go by when he abruptly sits up. "Shit, he's going to need someone to carry the chess board. OSCAR, WAIT!"

[blonde-in-charge]

Wildcard, Chapter 3 (Steve)

Summary: Steve Rodgers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Sam Wilson

Warnings: Mentions of blood/violence, Trauma, nightmares, 

Words: 2.5k

A/N: hello friends! i have returned! I am a bit rusty but please enjoy this long awaited continuation of Wildcard.

The table underneath you was frozen from the amount of stress you had been under. They just kept injecting things into you, hoping to get some kind of reaction from your body. You had stopped feeling the pain of the needle and experiments weeks ago, which just made everything worse for you in the long run. They were getting annoyed with the fact you had stopped reacting to whatever painful serum they had injected you with that day and it resulted in beating to get a reaction from you. You stared up at the cracked ceiling of your concrete room and counted each crack for the millionth time. You kept yourself company in your mind, getting lost in your thoughts to pass the time until your next beating. You shivered at the cold beneath you, the last serum made ice bleed from every one of your pores. You heard the shrill sound of the old iron door open from the side of the room, you didnt turn your head to see whoever came in anymore, they were all the same type of evil. 

“Your wounds have healed very quickly, you are replicating the progress of our last soldier.” said the thick voice. You hated to think someone else had gone through this hell before you had. You wondered if they escaped or died before they moved onto you. 

You felt a burn in the back of your throat, “What’s on the menu today doc? Electro-therapy? Waterboarding? New superhuman power that causes injury to one of your minions?” The one fond memory in your head of this place, being your body set itself on fire as well as one of the more hostile minions of Hydra. You smirked fondly at the memory as the hydra doctor worked his way around you observing the healing process. Every wound that opened on your body disappeared within a couple of hours, which is apparently what they wanted. 

“Nothing on the menu today, we are going to start to prepare you for the memory wipe.” Was all the man said and you felt your heart jump into your throat as the man chuckled, “You will do great things for us, American Girl.” You started pulling at your restraints for the first time in weeks, trying to fight your way off of the table once again. The man gave you a sickening chuckle while watching you struggle and you glared at him. He reached up to run a dirty hand slowly up your leg, “Such a pretty girl, such a shame you must-” He ended his sentence abruptly as you lit your body on fire, burning the man’s flesh. You grinned at him as your body started to fizzle out. He held his burnt hand to his body and looked at you with rage, “You stupid slut.” 

You continued to grin as he left the room, feeling somewhat accomplished. Your smile slowly faded as you thought back on the memories they would take from you. Y/N Y/L/N, you were a successful accountant in one of the most successful banks in Manhattan. You lived alone, your mom became an alcoholic after his death and ultimately drank herself to death. Your job would have already replaced you by now, and people would have stopped looking for you. You stopped fighting for an escape because you knew you had nothing to go back to.

-

You felt as if you were set on fire, every part of your body was burning up. Your skin felt like lava and your hair was stuck to your sweat drenched forehead as you heaved air into your lungs.

No, no, no, no. Not again please.

The sound of your name sounded disant, as if someone was whispering it from another room all before the voice suddenly got louder. 

“Y/N,” Your eyes snapped open and you instinctively started fighting whoever was holding you down.

“Y/N! Y/N Stop! Stop it, it’s me!” The lights suddenly flicked on to revel the disheveled super soldier in front of you. 

Your entire body relaxed as your eyes scanned the familiar room. Running your hands over your face into your hair you sighed, “I’m sorry, I just-” You stared at your friend unable to explain everything going through your head, “I think I was just having a nightmare.” 

He looked at you with sympathetic eyes before he walked slowly back over to the bed. He remained silent as he sat back against the pillows next to you and then nudged you with his arm, “Good morning.” He said quietly. You let out a small chuckle, Steve knew you so well he has learned if you wanted to talk about it you would, he never asked for more information then what you gave him when it came to the nightmares. You looked at the nightstand staring at the big angry red letters that read, 4:15am. Groaning and throwing the blankets back you stood, before you decided to walk you stretched your arms over your head and held the blissful position before heading for Steve's bathroom door. 

 Y/N Y/L/N

You stopped in the doorway before turning back to Steve, “Did the team ever figure out my last name or who I am at all?” 

“Not that I’m aware of, Stark created a couple of programs to try and figure out your identity but no luck yet,” The blond responded with a eyebrow quirked at you, “Why?”

“I think I figured it out.” Steve’s eyes grew large as he stood up from the bed. You’ve slept in the same bed as Steve before but he was always up before you and you were always asleep before him so you never got time to admire the soldier, until now. You realized Steve only slept in a pair of boxer briefs and you only slept in Steve's tee shirt and panties. Unable to stop your eyes they traveled down the length of his beautiful body before you stopped and mentally scolded yourself. Steve was your best friend, the only thing keeping you here and sane. Shaking the thoughts from your head before they even got there and spinning on your heel to face the bathroom, “I’ll get dressed and meet you in the conference room, yeah?”

You closed the door before Steve could even respond and started on your morning routine.

-

You sat at the table along with Steve and Sam. You were staring off at a wall while shoveling cereal into your mouth. You had only been at the tower for about two weeks now and had a good routine with the two men in front of you. You still didn’t have a name. You have been going by kid, kiddo, chick, and rescue. You have been searching your brain for a hint of what your name would be. You tried making up names but none of them suited you the way you wanted it to. You listened to the two men bicker over different work out strategies. You stared off at the wall and thought about how you planned on changing your hair color to maybe platinum blonde. You reached out to grab your glass off the table and grunted when it wouldn’t budge. You looked up at the two men staring at you with wide eyes before following their gaze to your hand. The liquid in the glass was frozen solid and the glass stuck to the table in a block. You removed your hand and looked at your palm, which was tinted blue, “Well that’s new.” 

Sam tapped on your frozen glass, “Holy shit, Elsa.” You rolled your eyes and rubbed your hands together trying to maintain heat.

Steve watched you, “Has this ever happened before?”

You shook your head and reached out to grab your glass again. Your strength became too much and the frozen glass shattered in your hand. You remained still as Sam hopped up from the table. 

“Jesus fucking christ, kid.” Sam started picking up the larger pieces of glass

“Language.” Steve went into the other room to retrieve a handheld vacuum 

You looked down at your hand and saw little cuts leaking blood in the palm, today just wasn’t your day. You stood up from the table and walked over to the sink, running your hand under the water. You were getting really sick of this superpower thing. You have broken so many things so far due to the super strength you can’t control. You sighed as you watched the small cuts on your hand knit themselves back together, you would never get used to that. On the brightside, it didn’t hurt. You have not felt the pain of anything you have broken or ran into, the only pain you ever felt was the headache that never went away. You dried your hand off and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Sorry guys… Still getting used to,” You held up your hands, “this.” 

Steve smiled knowingly, “It’s okay, kid. I remember when I received my serum, it took a minute to adjust.”  

You gave him a small smile, “Why do you guys keep calling me kid?”

Sam and Steve looked at each other. Sam was the one who spoke first, “You don’t really have a name right now.”

“Oh it’s Y/N.” You shrugged at the guys and returned to your seat at the table as they stared at you. 

“Did that just come to you?” Steve asked while looking at your seated figure, “It kind of suits you.”

“I think it’s my name? It just came to me at the sink and its the only name that doesnt make me want to kill myself.” You smiled as the two men started chuckling at you. 

“I think I will stick to ridiculous nicknames if you don’t mind.” Sam said, smiling at you and ruffling your hair. 

-

As you walked to the conference room, your real name itched in every crevice of your mind, a name with no meaning to you other than just being another name. You passed the glass walls of the room before stepping in with the rest of your teammates, who were all looking at you expectantly. Tony was sitting at the end of the table, holographic keyboard ready to type the words about to come from your mouth. You could tell everyone was waiting on you so you walked over to your usual seat next to Steve, who immediately put a comforting hand on your knee and squeezed. 

“Alright! Good morning team!” Tony said enthusiastically, “Before we start today, We need to talk about last night and everything that happened. Firstly-” Tony pulled up a holographic screen playing the night camera footage of the assault last night, “-as you can see, a member of your team has been attacked and usually they don't stop after the first try.” Your eyes were glued on the footage of you throwing the man into the wall, “So until we can get the towers security and defences back up we will be sending Little miss firecracker to a safehouse.” 

You groaned and threw your head back dramatically and Tony rolled his eyes at you, “Look, I get it suck, but Capsicle and I decided it would be best if he went with you.” You pulled your head back up and gave a small smile to Steve, silently thanking him, “Alright and next on the agenda, I have been informed we may have a lead on this whole identity crisis!” Tony rubbed his hands together pulling up the missing persons data base, preparing himself.

You sat up in your chair with your eyes trained on the screen as you spoke, “Search up Y/N Y/L/N” 

Tony wasted no time typing your name into the database to pull up a missing persons profile. A photo was pulled up onto the hologram screen and you silently stared at it. It was you, well at least a version of you. You looked so young, your face was effortlessly smooth with a light layer of makeup, and your mouth was pulled in an easy grin. Your hair was pulled back in a sleek low ponytail and you were wearing a white collared shirt with a blazer layered over it. You started into your eyes on the projection, it felt like looking at someone else. 

“You were an accountant? That’s boring.” Sam started while eyeing the photo of you

Tony scanned the photo and then started typing something into the projection. An article pulled up next to the photo, “Y/N Y/L/N, missing for two years, stopped coming into work and her apartment was empty… blah blah blah.” 

“Wait, wait, wait” You said staring at the screen, the date the report was filed was a month after you were actually taken, “Where ever the hell I worked reported me missing? Not any fucking family members or friends? Nobody noticed?” At the last statement your voice got quieter as you remembered the contents of your dream. 

“Look kid, I’m sure that's not true,” Tony started to say, “But right now, kid, we need to figure out why they took you and why they want you back so much,” You sunk back down in your chair, wishing you could just disappear. 

You felt Steve moving in his chair to lean towards you, “Do you want to go start packing for the safe house?” He asked quietly, his eyes shining with concern. You nodded silently and followed him out of the room towards your own. You had forgotten that the night before your room had been ransacked as you entered it. It appears one of the other members of your team had tried tidying up a bit, which you silently thanked them for as you searched for your emergency duffle. Steve had made his way next door to his room so you decided to let him pack and head back to the conference room to see if they found out any more information about your disappearance.

You walked towards the conference room and overheard Tony saying something in a hushed voice. Fortunately, you had enhanced hearing and were nosey enough to stop in your tracks and listen. 

“I mean it makes sense,” said Tony quietly, “She was an orphan growing up, in and out of foster care, no friends, didn't make any connections at work, she was the easiest target for Hydra because she wouldn't be… missed.” You can hear the hesitation before he said the last word. You remained frozen in place becoming discovered when Tony walked out and rounded the corner to go grab his second tablet. He smiled when he first saw you then once his eyes scanned your face, he knew you had overheard. 

“Look, kid-” You held your hand up to stop him in his sentence.

“You weren't wrong, Tony. You were just stating the facts.” His eyes looked apologetic as he gave you a small nod and decided to return back to the conference room. You sighed softly and changed your direction towards the elevators. Maybe it would be nice to have a break from the tower. 

Tags: @pumpkenz @Ihiamelona-blog @buckyyyybaby 

[naomixhill]

6 December 2022

19 October 2022

It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I am screaming on my bathroom floor as blood breaks through the bandages on my freshly shattered foot. I am all but waterboarding the upper part of my body into an ice bath trying to reduce my temperature, but can’t stop screaming, can’t stop bleeding, can’t stop vomiting. You are out of town. I won’t know until months later that you’re in Pittsburgh when you are supposed to be in Cleveland, visiting your grandmother freshly admitted into a hospital. But A, the psychiatrist, my best friend, she is here. And she continues to coo, this pain is temporary. You are safe. It is going to be okay. as I continue to throw up and scream into the night.

The only thing I want is your embrace.

I was only a few weeks out from an NPC bodybuilding competition. I was finally going to be on stage and take back ownership of my body after being assaulted in Arizona. But you don’t know what happened. No one does. As luck would have it, I dropped a 225 pound barbell on my foot earlier today and was hospitalized most of the day. But you don’t know about that, either.

20 October 2022

My parents came to town. My mother’s presence only makes the situation worse, but I can’t turn them away. My best friend, A, she is here; Z, the software engineer, he’s here, too. We planned to have a  family dinner, as in the kind with your chosen family, while you were out of town. Instead, it is spent with my father asking Z about work, admiring him, and asking A about her work in psychology. He hates her liberal politics, but seems to respect her intellect and wit.

Once they leave, A tells me, come on Naomi, we have to get those bloody bandages off you from last night. I try to bargain with her: I will do anything for this foot not to be touched. It is throbbing and I am on opioids and high on marijuana, but can’t mute the pain at all. She encourages Z to sit on rim of the bath tub and hold me back as she unbandages the blood-filled, sopping blood-filled, cloth. They catch on the wounds of my foot, eventually exposing my poorly stitched together big toe. I almost lost it.

Z runs his fingers through my hair and plays my favorite YouTube playlist. He tells me he realizes he’s not you, but he will love me with everything he has because I deserve to be loved. I shriek in pain as blood hits the bath tub basin, and recoil into his arms. I vomit over his lap in agony.

When I come to myself again, we are all laying in Our bed, and A has put on my favorite season of Gossip Girl. Z is holding me, A is holding me. I am squeezed in the middle.

27 October 2022

I am admitted into the Panhandle’s best outpatient surgery facility. You are with me only because someone is required to drive me home later in the day. As the nurse preps me for surgery, you continue to type away on your laptop and take an incoming call from a lender. You’re working hard over there, just having come back from another trip to Cleveland. Needles puncture all of my veins throughout my right and left arms. I am scared, I am really scared; I don’t know if I am going to lose part of my foot yet, but you are somewhere else entirely. I look over to you from time to time for comfort. But you are nowhere to be found.

When I wake up from operation and am finally carted back into the recovery room, I ask you to borrow your phone to call my parents. And there she is: Divya. I have never seen or heard of the name before, but she is there. And you’re talking about having babies with her-- six to be exact. Her message pops up on your phone. But I am on Fetanyl, and I am on anesthesia, and I gaslight myself into thinking it’s nothing.

29 October 2022

I feel like a burden because I can’t do anything for myself. If i need water, I need you to get it. I can’t feed myself. I am in endless agony that no drug is strong enough to control. You mostly ignore me, watching sports and reading Twitter, and passively telling me that it will be okay.

As we go outside to the balcony to smoke a bowl, you mention in passing that you think it would be best for me to stay at A’s while I recover. So I limp into your truck, let you take me there, and now I live in the basement of an aged building with mold on the walls, radon in the air, and cum stains on the carpet. There is no money in psychiatry and this proves it. My guest room is dark, damp, and has only a mattress, a week of clothes, a company computer, my medicine, and my lizard. 

2 November 2022

I am supposed to go to Chicago for work tomorrow. I am only a few days post-op, but the vice president has requested that i speak at a conference there. I look like shit. No one is feeding me. I can hardly bathe myself. So, I do my best to get into a car, and drive to a nearby esthetician to work on my eyebrows. I figure it’s the least offensive thing I can do to look immediately better.

Outside of my appointment, walking back to my rusted Ford in the dark of Tallahassee, a group of men surround me and yell at me for me to give them my wallet. I refuse and they take turns beating the shit out of me. One pulls out a car key and shoves it straight into my cornea.

When it’s all over, I can no longer see out of my left eye from the damage. It feels like shards of glass are repeatedly stabbing me, and I break down crying behind a Publix. It must take me an hour before I can walk again and get to my car.

When I get home, Z and A are watching a film on her new projector. When they see my eye, bulging and red, they immediately ask what happened and I blame it on the esthetician losing her grip and hitting me with her tweezers. There are no noticeable rips or bruises on my skin that they can see. No one knows what really happened.

I close my bedroom door and cry. Z comes in and tries to console me, but it is of no use. No one understands why I am really crying. All I want is to see you.

I text you but you never reply.

3 November 2022

The following day, I have to go to an emergency eye doctor to evaluate the damage to my eye. He tells me that I may lose up to ninety percent of my vision without surgery. He dilates both eyes, and puts a patch on the impacted one. I call you from the parking lot to ask for your help to pick me up. You say that you’re training the new hire and can’t come.

The next thirty minutes are one of the scarier moments of my life as I swerve in and out of traffic with only one dilated eye and one working foot.

4 December 2022

I have seen you only twice in a month. We are at an Indian restaurant when I tell you that my surgical boot is coming off tomorrow, and I would love to come home. I am scared here. I don’t want to be here anymore. I just want to be home with you. In. My. Home. That you kicked me out of. Two days post-op. Mid samosa bite, as I chew potatoes and carrots and fried bread, you tell me that we need to break up. That we want different things.

I suppose I should have seen this coming, but it is still a shock. And it’s a far worse blow to my being than the foot or eye.

6 December 2022

Where are you, now?

[l1tw1ck]

A Gift

FTM!Heizou + Top!Masc Reader

Request | Kinktober | No AFAB language used

Contains: Kidnapping, Nipple Clamps, Sexual Torture, Overstimulation, Fucking Machine, Erotic Electrostimulation

Words: 769

──────────────────

"Have a nice day, sweetheart!" You smile, waving as your husband leaves for the day.

Once Ayato is gone, you go and finish all of your tasks then get ready to take information to help him out.

──────────────────

You stepped into the dimly lit room, a weird but intimidating mask on your face that made the kidnapped man shiver.

You used multiple tactics to get the man to speak. Threats, slapping, loud noise, shocking him with your electro vision, and waterboarding.

But it was never enough. For you at least, the man had already been ready to talk by the time you were getting ready to waterboard him.

Ayato noticed how frustrated you were becoming. You couldn't do much to your victims for your own protection so you couldn't torture them as you'd like to.

He decided he would get you your own 'toy' to torture how ever you want. Ayato kidnapped Shikanoin Heizou, a detective that seemed to be getting close to figuring out your identity, and gifted him to you.

Once Ayato left you immediately took him to your room full of toys for both pleasure and torture. You sit him against the wall and walk to another side of the room.

Heizou glares at you as you happily shuffle through a box of toys. He's duck taped and tied up so he doesn't even bother trying to do anything.

You turn around with a pink vibrator and make your way over to him. You rip his shorts off and remove the rope from his legs and hands. You spread them apart and bring them to either side of him, tying his ankles to his wrists and forcing him into an embarrassing position.

Heizou glares at you.

"I'll be a little kinder today...but don't expect any more kindness tomorrow." You smile, turning the toy on and holding it against his little cock.

Heizou closes his eyes, his face flushed pink with muffled moans escaping his taped mouth.

"Feels good, detective?" You smile and rip apart his underwear, putting the vibrator against his now bare area. You position it in a way that isn't enough to make him come but enough to make him squirm.

You eventually stop his torture and move away to get more items, metal clamps for his nipples and a fucking machine with a dildo already attached to it.

You stuff the clamps in your pocket and bring the contraption over to him.

Heizou looks down at the dildo then back up at you, as if to say 'you're gonna put that inside me?'

"It'll hurt." You smile and push just the tip inside him. You rip his shirt off and pinch his nipples with the clamps.

Heizou closes his eyes to prepare himself before you turn the machine on. It forces the entire dildo inside of him, making his eyes open wide.

You speed up the machine and watch as it destroys Heizou's insides. "Having fun?" You laugh.

Heizou shakes his head and makes muffled protests, his entire body in pain now.

You bring your finger to his bottom growth and shock it, instantly bringing him to an orgasm.

His eyes roll back and his body shakes violently from the sudden electrocution. He can't even catch his breath since the machine is still violating him.

"I wonder how long it'll take for you to pass out." You wonder aloud, tugging on his clamps. "Maybe two more shocks? Three? You probably have some resistance to it so maybe four?" You smile.

Heizou shakes his head rapidly.

You send electro from your finger tips to the clamps and to his poor nipples. He comes again with another violent shake.

"You should be happy I'm not removing your body parts." You hold his head in place. "Well, you should be happy for now."

Heizou's eyes widen. His screams and pleas barely make it past the tape.

You set up a live camera in front Heizou and walk to the door. "Oh, don't worry, I'm the only one who'll see that." You reassure him and leave.

You go to complete some important housework while watching Heizou on a tablet connected to the camera. You leave him like that for a few hours and he eventually faints.

When you come back to the room, he's still out like a light. You kneel down and electrocute his small cock again, causing him to quite literally jolt awake.

He looks at you with wide eyes and red tear stained cheeks, another orgasm messing up his thoughts.

"You did pretty good Heizou, I wonder how you'll do next time..?" You smirk.

[marvelgeeklikestowrite]

Okay so I recently finished reading Red White and Royal Blue and I am freaking in love with it.

Some of my favourite bits from the book (spoilers):

1. "So is that what’s happening now?” Alex says “Has he decided to finally shut me up by wooing my sister?”

“Aw, little buddy,” Nora says “It’s cute how you think everything is about you.”

“It should be, honestly.”

“That’s the spirit.”

2.Alex still doesn’t really know what kept drawing him back, only that he would sneak into June’s room and find the page and touch his fingertips to the boy’s hair as if he could somehow feel its texture if he imagined it hard enough.

Alex, honey, I don't know how to tell you this but that sounds kinda gay.

3. “Am I offending you? Sorry, I’m not obsessed with you like everyone else. I know that must be confusing for you.”

“Do you know what?” Henry says. “I think you are.”

Alex’s mouth drops open, while the corner of Henry’s turns smug and almost a little mean.

“Only a thought,” Henry says, tone polite. “Have you ever noticed I have never once approached you and have been exhaustively civil every time we’ve spoken? Yet here you are, seeking me out again.” He takes a sip of his champagne.

“Simply an observation.”

“What? I’m not—” Alex stammers. “You’re the—”

“Have a lovely evening, Alex,” Henry says tersely and turns to walk off.

Again Alex read the para before. You are obsessed with him, mijo.

4. He hears Henry mutter slowly, “Oh my fucking Christ.” He registers dimly that it’s the first time he’s ever heard the prince swear before the flash from someone’s camera goes off.

Sweetie, you just caused an international incident. Maybe worry about your crush, sorry arch-nemesis later?

5. “As your mother, I can appreciate that maybe this isn’t your fault, but as the president, all I want is to have the CIA fake your death and ride the dead-kid sympathy into a second term.”

Dear God, this whole family is dramatic 😂

6.“Look,” Zahra says, “Both sides need to come out of this looking good, and the only way to do that is to make it look like your little slap-fight at the wedding was some homoerotic frat bro mishap, okay? So, you can hate the heir to the throne all you want, write mean poems about him in your diary, but the minute you see a camera, you act like the sun shines out of his dick and you make it convincing.”

Zahra is the icon, the moment.

7. Nora says. “Sworn enemies forced to make peace to settle tensions between their countries? There’s something totally Shakespearean about it.``

“Shakespearean in that hopefully I’ll get stabbed to death,” Alex says.

Maybe if you ask Zahra nicely she'll do it for you.

8. Hey, what do you think Zahra put on my fact sheet?”

“Hmm,” Nora says, sucking her teeth. “Favorite summer Olympic sport: rhythmic gymnastics—”

“I’m not ashamed of that.”

“Favorite brand of khakis: Gap.”

“Listen, they look best on my ass. The J. Crew ones wrinkle all weird. And they’re not khakis, they’re chinos. Khakis are for white people.”

“Allergies: dust, Tide laundry detergent, and shutting the fuck up.”

“Age of the first filibuster: nine, at SeaWorld San Antonio, trying to force an orca wrangler into early retirement for, quote, ‘inhumane whale practices.’”

“I stood by it then, and I stand by it now.”

More of June and Nora roasting the shit out of Alex.

9. “I’m going to throw up on you,” Alex says as soon as Henry is close enough to hear him.

“Hello, Alex,” Henry says. “You look …sober.”

“Only for you, Your Royal Highness,” he says

“You’re too kind,” Henry says.

“This is idiotic,” Alex says, grasping Henry’s hand, “Let’s get it over with.”

“I’d rather be waterboarded,” Henry says. His eyes are big and soft and blue, and

he desperately needs to be punched in one of them. (sometimes I want to punch you in your perfect teeth) “Your Country could probably arrange that.”

Alex throws his head back and laughs handsomely, loud and false. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Hardly enough time,” Henry says

10. He finds Luna in his office, horn-rimmed reading glasses doing nothing to detract from his usual appearance of a movie star who tripped and fell sideways into politics. Alex has always suspected the soulful brown eyes and perfectly groomed stubble and dramatic cheekbones won back any votes Luna lost by being both Latino and openly gay.

How this boy ever thought he was anything but bi surmounts me

11. He clutches his chest. “You wound me.”

“You exhaust me.”

“I enchant you.”

“I’ll call security.”

“Fair enough.”

Luna and Alex <3

12. It’s meticulously scheduled by Shaan, with whom Alex is slightly obsessed, especially when

Henry texts him things like, Did I tell you Shaan has a motorbike? or Shaan is on the phone with Portugal.

Zahra would concur with Alex’s obsession with Mr. Shaan Srivastava

13 Alex rolls his eyes and sends back, the harrowing struggle of managing the empire’s blood money.

Henry’s response comes a minute later.

That was actually the crux of the meeting—I’ve tried to refuse my share of the crown’s money. Dad left us each more than enough, and I’d rather cover my expenses with that than the spoils of, you know, centuries of genocide. Philip thinks I’m being ridiculous.

14. Alex: “Put the turkeys in my room.”

Also, Alex: That night, as Alex stares into the cold, pitiless eyes of a prehistoric beast of prey, he has a few regrets.

THEY KNOW, he texts Henry. THEY KNOW I HAVE ROBBED THEM OF FIVE-STAR ACCOMMODATIONS TO SIT IN A CAGE IN MY ROOM, AND THE MINUTE I TURN MY BACK THEY ARE GOING TO FEAST ON MY FLESH.

15 . “Um,” he says. “How do you get a turkey to gobble?”

“Try gobbling,” Henry says, “and see if he gobbles back.”

Alex blinks. “Are you serious?”

“We hunt loads of wild turkeys in the spring,” Henry says sagely. “The trick is to get into the mind of the turkey.”

“How the hell do I do that?”

“So,” Henry instructs. “Do as I say. You have to get quite close to the turkey, like, physically.”

Alex leans toward the wire bars. “Okay.”

“Make eye contact with the turkey. Do you have it?”

Alex follows Henry’s instructions in his ear “Yeah.”

“Right, now hold it,” Henry says. “Connect with the turkey, earn the turkey’s trust ... befriend the turkey...”

“Okay...”

“Buy a summer home in Majorca with the turkey...”

“Oh, I fucking hate you!” Alex shouts as Henry laughs at his own idiotic prank and his indignant flailing startles a loud gobble out of Cornbread, which in turn startles a very unmanly scream out of Alex. “Goddammit! Did you hear that?”

“Sorry, what?” Henry says. “I’ve been stricken deaf.”

16. “I thought you’d kill me in a more personal way. Silk pillow over my face, slow and gentle suffocation. Just you and me. Sensual.”

“Ha. Well.” Henry coughs.

Alex, please. You are killing him!

17. “Oh my God, this is like all those romantic comedies where the girl hires a male escort to pretend to be her wedding date and then falls in love with him for real.”

“That is not at all what this is like.”

18. “Look, you should have invited him yourself!” June says, “It’s really nice you’re making friends who aren’t us. Remember last year when Nora and I were both out of the country for a week, and you almost got a tattoo?”

“I still think we should have let him get a tramp stamp.”

“It wasn’t going to be a tramp stamp,” Alex says hotly. “You were in on this, weren’t you?”

“You know I love chaos,” Nora tells him serenely.

“I have friends who aren’t y’all,” Alex says.

“Who, Alex?” June says. “Literally who?”

Jeez Nora, don’t call him out like that.

19.He has maybe wanted to kiss Henry for a while. As in, probably this whole time.

He ticks off another list in his head. Henry. Shaan. Liam. Han Solo. Rafael Luna and his loose collars.

Finally Alex's brain has decided to join the program.

20. “Do you mind?” Henry has the nerve to say.

“Shut your face,” Alex says

“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” she says.

“Probably not,” Alex tells her.

“What on God’s earth are you doing?” Henry demands.

“Shut up, shut all the way up, oh my God,” Alex hisses.

“Should we—”

“What?”

“I mean, er, should we, I dunno, slow down?” Henry says, cringing so hard at himself that one eye closes. “Go for dinner first, or—”

Alex is actually going to kill him.

“We just had dinner.”

“Right. I meant—I just thought—”

“Stop thinking.”

“Yes. Gladly.”

“I’m going to die,” Henry says helplessly.

“I’m going to kill you,” Alex tells him.

“Yes, you are,” Henry agrees.

21.“I don’t suppose you’ll be anywhere near Kensington anytime soon?”

“That shithole?” he says with a wink. “Not if I can help it.”

“Oi,” Henry says. He’s grinning now. “That’s disrespect of the crown, that is. Insubordination. I’ve thrown men in the dungeons for less.”

Alex turns, walking backward toward the car, hands in the air. “Hey, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

22. “Hey, Henry, say the name of the house you’re staying at again.”

Pez turns the camera to catch Henry in a half smile.

“Llwynywermod.”

“One more time.”

“Llwynywermod.”

Alex groans. “Jesus.”

Alex is whipped.

23. O,fathers of my bloodline! O, ye kings of olde! Take this crown from me, bury me in my ancestral soil. If only you had known the mighty work of thine loins would be undone by a gay heir who likes it when American boys with chin dimples are mean to him.

Alex is not the only one who is dramatic.

24 . He notices David Beckham in a well-tailored suit—once again, how had he convinced himself he was straight?

We have been asking that question all along Alex.

25. He snatches a shirt and boxers at random from the floor, shoves them at Henry’s chest, and points him toward the closet. “Get in there.”

“Quite,” he observes.

“Yes, we can unpack the ironic symbolism later. Go,” Alex says, and Henry does.

26. Ellen: Finally my son is not going to cause any international incidents

Alex: " I kind of … met somebody.”

“It’s, uh,” he interrupts her. “It’s Henry.”

“Henry���?”

“Yeah, Henry.”

“Henry, as in … the prince?”

“Yes.”

��Of England?”

“Yes.”

“So, not another Henry?”

“No, Mom. Prince Henry. Of Wales.”

27. The first slide says: SEXUAL EXPERIMENTATION WITH FOREIGN MONARCHS: A GRAY AREA. Alex wonders if it’s too late to swan dive off the roof.

EXPLORING YOUR SEXUALITY: HEALTHY, BUT DOES IT HAVE TO BE WITH THE PRINCE OF ENGLAND? She apologizes for not having time to come up with better titles. Alex actively wishes for the sweet release of death.

The one after is: FEDERAL FUNDING, TRAVEL EXPENSES, BOOTY CALLS, AND YOU.

28. “Sorry,” Henry says. “I was looking for someone else.Handsome, petulant, short, not pleasant until after ten a.m.? Have you seen him?”

“Fuck off, five-nine is average.”

"You and I both know you’re rounding up.”

29. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Henry says. “Christ, Alex. The whole bloody time.”

“The whole time?”

“Since the Olympics.”

“The Olympics?” Alex yanks Henry’s pillow out from under him. “But that’s, that’s like—”

“Yes, Alex, the day we met, nothing gets past you, does it?” Henry says, reaching to steal the pillow back. “‘What about you,’ he says, as if he doesn’t know—”

“Shut your mouth,” Alex says, grinning like an idiot.

Idiots, both of them.

30. He asked why I was so intent on disrespecting the traditions of the men of this family, and I truly think I dissociated straight (ha) out of the conversation, because I opened my blasted mouth and said, “Because I’m not like the rest of the men of this family, beginning with the fact that I am very deeply gay, Philip.”

Eat shit Philip. Go Henry!

31. “I am your mother. I was your mother before I was ever the president, and I’ll be your mother long after, to the day they put me in the ground and beyond this earth. You are my child."

I fucking love Ellen Claremont, first woman President of the United States of America

32 . “Look, I’m only going to say this once, and if you ever repeat it, I’ll have you kneecapped.” She drops her hand, fixing him with a glare that manages to be both chilly and fond. “I’m rooting for you, okay?”

“Wait. Zahra. Oh my God. I just realized. You’re … my friend.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Zahra, you’re my mean friend.”

“Am not.”

Aww Zahra, you care for him! Alex I know you are happy about it but maybe don't tick her off when you have royally fucked up?

33."You can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse,Philip. I’m done.”

Philip deserves a punch to his stupid face.

33. “So, uh,” Alex attempts. “Are you two in a fight now?”

Zahra looks at him. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Oh. I just thought because—”

“It’s fine,” Shaan says, still typing on his iPhone. “This is why we set rules about the personal-slash-professional lines at the outset of the relationship. It works for us.”

“If you want a fight, you should have seen it when I found out he had known about you two all along,” Zahra says. “Why do you think I got a rock this big?”

“It usually works for us,” Shaan amends.

“Yep,” Zahra agrees. “Plus, we banged it out last night.” Without looking up, Shaan meets her hand in a high five.

They deserve their own book!

34. “Nobody’s saying you don’t deserve to be happy,” Philip cuts in. “First love makes everyone mad—it’s foolish to throw away your future because of one hormonal decision based on less than a year of your life when you were barely in your twenties.”

Henry looks Philip square in the face and says, “I’ve been gay as a maypole since the day I came out of Mum, Philip.”

Again fuck Philip! And damn H!

35. “Of course they do, Mum. Of course the bloody Tories in Kensington and the Brexit fools don’t want it. That’s not the point. Are you so determined to believe nothing could change?

That nothing should change? We can have a real legacy here, of hope, and love, and change. Not the same tepid shite and drudgery we’ve been selling since World War II—”

“You will not speak to me this way,” Queen Mary says icily,

“No respect. Never an ounce of respect for the sanctity—”

“Or, perhaps I should bring some of my concerns to Parliament?” Catherine says, leaning in to lower her voice right in Queen Mary’s face. “You know, I do think Labour is rather finished with

the old guard. I wonder, if I were to mention those meetings you keep forgetting about, or the names of countries you can’t quite keep straight, if they might decide that forty-seven is perhaps enough years for the people of Britain to expect you to serve?”

The tremor in the queen’s hand has doubled. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I, Mum? Would you like to find out? “Look at them, Mum. They’re not props of a legacy. They’re my children. And I swear on my life, and Arthur’s, I will take you off the throne before I will let them feel the things you made me feel.”

Catherine is amazing. The breakdown of the British monarchy in this book is a joy to read.

36. “Ellen,” Nora practically yells. The room goes silent, and Nora freezes, realizing. “Uh. Ma’am. Mom-in-law. Please, just. You need to read this.”

Nora saves the day!

37. “You are,” he says, “the absolute worst idea I’ve ever had.”

38.“Alex,” Henry tells him, “I can’t move to New York.”

Bea looks up. “Why not?”

“Because I’m the prince of—” Henry looks over at her and gestures at the Orangery, at Kensington, sputtering. “Here!”

Wow H, quite the Wordsworth.

39.“So … you’re afraid of wearing anything too flashy for your first post-coming-out trip home, on account of Texans’ delicate hetero sensibilities?”

Why is Nora fictional?

40. History, huh? Bet we could make some.

41. Do you feel forever about him?

42. "That’s the choice. I love him, with all that, because of all that. On purpose. I love him on purpose.”

43.I thought, this is the most incredible thing I have ever seen, and I had better keep it a safe distance away from me. I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire.

And then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. Can you believe it?

44. “I want you—”

“Then fucking have me.”

45. If there’s any legacy for me on this bloody earth, I want it to be true.

46. As a kid, he dreamed of love like it was a fairytale, as if it would come sweeping into his life on the back of a dragon one day. When he got older, he learned about love as a strange thing that could fall apart no matter how badly you wanted it, a choice you make anyway. He never imagined it’d turn out he was right both times.

[novamirmirsblog]

One more dinner

Genre: angst

Request: no

Word count: 1293

Warnings: Death

All Natasha wanted was one more dinner with you.

“Hey y/n, ya think you could grab this for me?” Tony passed you a piece of paper with a bunch of chemicals on it and a location. “It’s for Bruce. I think this might be the missing chemicals I need to help stabilise him.” You were supposed to be on a month holiday. You and Natasha had taken down a massive drug ring. It had taken just under a year to do and Fury promised you at least a month off. Natasha had planned a holiday for the both of you and you were supposed to be leaving in a few days. “I do have that holiday Tony…” it’s not that you didn’t want to help, it’s just that you really needed a break. That and the fact you had no clue where the location of the holiday was and if there’s one thing you hated, it was not knowing something. “I promise it will literally just take an afternoon. Not even that if you take one of the jets.” “Sure Tones. But if I’m not back in time for my holiday Natasha is going to kill you. I’ll be back in a bit!” You waved to him as you went up to yours and Nat’s shared room to get ready. “Hey Natty, Tony wants me to grab some science stuff. I’ll be back for dinner.” You go around the room, grabbing everything you need for the brief mission, if you could even call it that. “Okay detka.” She leans up from where she was sitting at the desk so you can kiss her. “Be safe baby.” “I will try my best.” You smiled at her, leaving the room, before calling out to her “Make sure you save me some food!” ~~~~~ It was not the easy mission you were promised. You had gone in alone, no backup because why would you need any? It was just grabbing some chemicals. It was an easy in and out job. Except it wasn’t. Turns out, the large drug ring you and Natasha had taken down together had found a new leader - one who clearly didn’t know the meaning of ‘turning a new leaf’ because he currently had you strapped to a chair so tightly your hands were going purple from the ropes cutting off your circulation. Even if you made it out of here, there was going to be months of physical therapy and he hadn’t even started on the torture yet. You had a horrible feeling you weren’t going to make it back for dinner. They beat you senseless. They cut you and broke your bones. They tore out teeth and fingernails. They waterboarded you, hung you up and left you for what felt like hours. You only came to when you felt yourself being placed on a soft chair, a screen playing something in front of you. “Wakey wakey sweetheart.” Wannabe mob boss lifted your chin up so you could look at the screen “your friends wanna say hi.” The looks on their faces broke you. Tony looked so damn guilty you just wanted to give him a hug. It wasn’t his fault but you knew he was going to blame himself for this for a long time. Wanda, one of your closest friends, couldn’t even look at you. You finally looked at Natasha whose eyes spoke of sadness but clenched jaw was full of anger. It was like her body didn’t know which emotion to feel so it settled awkwardly between the two. “Sno yur ful” you tried to speak but the words were slurred and quiet “Aww here that guys, she’s telling you it’s not your fault.” He cackled and hit your temple with his gun. The world went muffled and you were so so tired. You just needed to close your eyes. Just for a second. It would all be okay if you just closed your eyes… Your friends and girlfriend watched as you’re eyes closed, screaming at the screen for you to wake up, to focus on their voices. Natasha let out a sob as she heard a sharp bang and watched your head roll forward, blood running from your forehead down your face. ~~~~~ In the following weeks, no one spoke. Not really. The only time the team spoke to each other was to ask if they could be passed something. Game nights came to a halt after the team kept realising they were waiting for you to take your turn. Mealtimes were no longer taken together and for some, the meals stopped altogether. The funeral was stiff and painful. It was closed casket because of the amount of damage they had done to you. None of the team cried at the service. That right

was given to your family, your brothers and sister who were all so much younger than you. Your cousins who realised how badly this would tear up your parents. Your dad came over to talk to Natasha before she could leave. He apologised for the fact she was left behind to continue living. He expressed his regret at the fact the two of you never got that holiday, him being one of the only other people to know how special that trip was going to be. Steve was constantly running, he hadn’t known what kind of impact your death would have on him. The two of you were never very close but he missed the little jokes the two of you had. After the funeral, Wanda ran away. You were like a sister to her and she had now lost not only Pietro, but you too. Vision went with her. Tony locked himself in his lab, staying there for 23 hours a day. That one hour where he was asleep, he was tormented by that sharp bang, except in his dreams, he was the one pulling the trigger. Sam missed the playful flirting the two of you would do to get under Natasha’s skin. He missed the way you would always try to beat him at monopoly. Natasha vowed to kill every single one of those people who ever put a finger on you. She turned dark. Went right back to what she was programmed to be, a ruthless killer. Once she had hunted each one down, she felt empty. There was nothing that could fill the void in her soul. She blamed Tony in the beginning. He was the one who asked you to go and get those damn chemicals. He could have sent anyone else. It was a low level job but he was just too lazy to fill out the paperwork. Slowly, her anger turned from Tony to Bruce. Bruce was the one who experimented on himself. If he hadn’t had an obsession with whatever the hell Steve was injected with, then he wouldn’t have needed something to counterbalance it. All she had wanted to do was to propose. That’s what the whole holiday was about. Hell, she was two minutes away from doing it at the damn dinner the two of you were planning on having. The ring in her pocket felt so heavy that a few times she had tried to throw it right into the sea, making sure it was never seen again. Natasha refrained from doing so. Something stopped her from ever getting rid of it, she held on to it as if it was the last piece of you she had. “You said you’d be back for dinner…” Natasha placed the ring along with your favourite flowers on your grave, just wishing that she could have stopped you, that she could have got there in time, that you hadn’t been sent out on that stupid mission. She just wanted one more dinner with you.

[oceanid-writes]

Water and Wine (Yandere Yelena x Reader)

Pairing: Yandere Yelena x Female Reader

Author’s Note: This is my first full fanfic ever, so if anyone has feedback pls lmk!! Just a reminder that since this is technically my first fic, it’s likely not perfect, and please be respectful of that when reading. Additionally, this is a work of fiction and I do not condone any of the actions in this story. I write about different and dark topics to express my imagination and develop character ideas.

This piece is for the Too Hot To Fuck collab hosted by @captainmcslashypaws 

Summary: Yelena’s been pining after you, even though the feeling isn’t mutual. With your horrible behaviour, the nice dinner she’s planned has been ruined. You understand she has to punish you for that, right?

Warnings: Non-con, yandere behaviour, drowning, waterboarding, dark themes, smut.

Word Count: 1.2k

The cold hard table slaps your face as you feel yourself being forced onto it again. You can taste the blood running down your face, your teeth chipping with every crack. You can see the tablecloth beginning to turn red under you. This is the fifth, maybe sixth time she’s slammed your face against the table. 

“You dumb bitch.” She seethes, yanking you back up by your scalp. It hurts, it hurts badly, but seeing her loom over you with that murderous look on her face replaces everything in you with pure, unfiltered fear. 

“Yelena, please,” You plead, hoping to resonate with something inside her. “I don’t know why you’re doing this to me! I know you’re an anti-Marylean volunteer, I know about your mission to Paradis, to help the Yeagers. I don’t get it- I- why are you doing this to me?” 

She’s taller than you, much taller, and you’re painfully aware of the height difference and she’s getting closer when she gestures between you to sit down at the table. It seems like she once had it set up for a fancy dinner, with what used to be wine bottles and wine glasses now smashed upon the floor. You wouldn’t want to have dined with her knowing what you know now either way.

Suddenly, she the expression on her face turns neutral. “I think,” She says slowly, “I may have been getting ahead of myself.” You’re thankful that your half-mad kidnapper is willing to talk, talk, and stop grinding your face away. What only happened minutes ago was enough to give you scarring nightmares. “I guess that maybe you haven’t recognized that I’ve been pining after you.” She says suddenly. 

What? Pining after you? But you have a boyfriend and- 

“I shouldn’t have made assumptions about your… abilities to pick up your surroundings, which I also believe you lack in various other areas, but I can’t deny it stung seeing you with him.” 

You know Yelena’s talking about your boyfriend, in the Garrison regiment. You can only pray he’s ok.

“What do you want from me?” You ask, leaning back in your seat to distance yourself from her. She’s terrifying, glowering at you, and then her face suddenly twists into a sharp smile. 

“I can come up with a few things I’d like.”

 You sit there and stare back blankly, waiting for her first words. She watches you carefully, then throws her head back and begins to laugh. 

“At first I just wanted to drink and converse with you, but at this point, I want to take the pace a little quicker.” What is she saying? When you don’t react immediately, she settles back into her seat, still keeping her grin. 

“It should be obvious I want to fuck you.” You sit there silently, unmoving, watching her.

“I’m not having sex with you. You’re insane.” You say slowly. 

“Maybe,” She shrugs, beginning to stand up. “But you’ll do what I want or I’ll punish you.” 

Instead of walking to where you are, Yelena moves towards a large mahogany cabinet at the far end of the room. She pulls out a large canister of water, a piece of cloth, and a human sized board, with a long buckle across the middle. She moves past you to lay the board down onto the table, and sets the water canister on the ground. Finally, cloth in hand, she turns to you. 

It’s disturbing how quiet she is, standing there silently while her dark eyes bore into you. All of a sudden, she lifts you up and slams you down and onto the board, making sure to fasten you down right away.

“Hm,” Yelena murmurs. “I think you need to be taught a lesson,” 

The last thing you see is a flash of short blond hair before the piece of cloth is forced over your face aggressively. You feel water begin to pour over your face, and your lungs begin to burn. You’re blindly drowning, you’re burning up alive, and all the while you scream. 

As soon as the wave of pain comes, it stops, and only the cloth is left on your face. 

“Yelena-” You wheeze, still gasping for air. She only shushes you and tightens the strap.

“Apologies, but I had to do that,” You know she’s lying. From the sound of her voice, she seems like she’s enjoying this. “You should understand that this is how I treat bad behaviour from you.”

You stay silent and tense up, as you begin to feel your shirt unbutton.

“This is going to feel good, don’t worry,” Yelena coos, her long fingers working quickly on you.

You feel her lips brush against your skin, peppering you with kisses as she moves down to your chest. She smiles at your nipples, and begins to nip at them. It feels good, in an awful and sick way. The same woman who tried to drown you was now leaving love bites all over your body, and you hate it so as a latch ditch effort you send the best sharp kick you can muster to her crotch. It lands, and for a second she yelps and jolts off you.

For a second, you feel good, until you remember that you’re the one tied down to the board. 

Yelena lets out a quiet kind of laugh, before you hear even more clothing being removed. But this time it isn’t yours. 

“It’s a good thing I decided to wear the strap today,” She says, and you can’t help but feel scared.

“Now I can fuck you and punish you at the same time.” 

You squirm and squirm until you feel your pants being torn off, and something both hard and cold at your entrance. Yelena’s large hand rests on your upper thigh, and within seconds, you feel a thrust and your body being invaded by something too big. It hurts sitting there inside you, and it feels worse when you try to move. 

And then, you begin to feel the water trickling over the cloth again, and a burning sensation returns to your lungs. All the while, Yelena begins to move and thrusts inside you. You scream your throat raw, but all Yelena does is laugh and moan. 

“You’re so- urgh,” She pants, ignoring your noises. “Finally you’re being good for me.” 

Water begins to fill you out even deeper, and you gargle your screams. She laughs even harder, and you feel as if you’re dying. She stops the water, but keeps moving inside you as you lie there coughing. Her bare thighs move against yours, and finally, she slows to a stop. She pulls out, and you hear clothing rustle in front of you. 

Yelena pulls the cloth off your face, and leans into you with a kiss. You begin to sob uncontrollably, and she unties you. You have no energy to move or do anything but cry and attempt to thrash around. You know you look like a gutted fish, left on a hook to finish dying. 

Yelena’s unreadable face begins to soften at your expense, and she sits on the table next to you, beginning gently caressing your face.

“I may have gotten overexcited,” She says, pulling you closer to her as she pets your head. You hate her. “But I had to break you before I brought you home.” 

And just like that, the fear you thought was starting to melt away begins to enter you again. Deep inside, you can’t shake the feeling that the horrible experience you just had wasn’t going to be a one time thing.

[remakethestars]

Being Batman’s Daughter Would Include:

Headcanons.

❝Listen, Robin. At their core, people are cowardly and self-serving. Trust no one until you know them. And even then, never completely.❞

— Bruce Wayne, “The Lesson Plan”

TRIGGER WARNING: Plant murder. Mentions of drugs/tranqs (stopping dealers), violence/physical harm, broken bones (knee cap), limb dislocation (shoulder), (Jason’s) death, smoke, waterboarding/drowning?

Headcanon masterlist.

You know how every teenager has that paradigm shift because as much as they love the people around them, they’ll never know the inner workings of your psyche? And they realize they’ll never truly be known? And it makes them feel really lonely?

Yeah, you never come to feel like that because you know Bruce digs so far into everyone around him he probably knows you better than you do.

Honestly, he probably reads your diary. At least, he reads the fake one you hide under your mattress. And the second decoy in the A.C. vent above your dresser.

If you’re as paranoid as Bruce, you probably don’t have a diary, and the aforementioned “decoys” are just to mess with him.

Sun Tzu’s The Art of War was practically your Bible growing up.

You’re torn between giving yourself the tactical advantage of being underestimated & being non-reactive, which — besides giving you the lioness role in the lion–gazelle dynamic — gives you the advantage of having time to think carefully on the repercussions before speaking.

Because, as Sun Tzu said in chapter seven, verse twenty-one, “Ponder and deliberate before you make a move.”

Seeing as Bruce and Damian both have eidetic memories, I’m guessing you do too. 

Which means you totally read the dictionary when you were young and whip our big words nobody’s heard of.

Bruce always assured you it’s okay to be scared. As a matter of fact, like he told Dick (seen in flashbacks in “The Lesson Plan”), he taught you to “Let terror embrace you. The better you know fear, the better you can use it against others.”

And we all know Bruce is the paragon of using fear against people.

Take that, Scarecrow!

(See, I chose that gif because earlier in that move, he displays a fear of bats, & in that scene, he summons them to use as a distraction and walks through them completely unperturbed. No? Okay, I’ll see myself out.)

You started into the vigilante business young, a little bulge under the back of Batman’s cape that made the rest of the Justice League in the meeting think Bruce was host to an alien parasite until your little mask-covered eyes poked up over his shoulder.

The League’s known you since you were young, so they kind of all see you as their niece. That just quadruples the amount of people who are overprotective of you.

Eventually, in your tweens, you think enough’s enough and start out on your own — being underestimated may be an advantage, but it’s getting ridiculous — and you tackle unsolved cases.

You set up various safe houses around the world for your own disposal (using the zeta tubes) and anyone who sees the inside of one in an emergency is always surprised. You don’t really understand why; what serious vigilante doesn’t have secure, state-of-the-art safe locations scattered across the planet?

Sometimes, it gets you into danger, but you always get yourself out of it. If there ever comes a time you can’t, well, you’ve got a direct link to Batman, and if communications fail, you can always yell for your Uncle Clark at the top of your lungs.

If the latter ever comes to fruition, you ask Bruce if he’s disappointed you had to call for back-up or that you called Superman instead of Batman, and he says, “It takes a strong person to admit when they’re weak, [Y/N]; if anything, I’m proud of you. Besides … you’re not the only one who yells for Uncle Clark when they get in over their head.”

Your training entailed hacking and mechanics, so you like to fix computers and sell them on the internet Hugh Jeffreys style. It started out with Macs from the dumpster behind Gotham Academy and turned into a surprising side hustle. Large portions of your profits go into either savings or funding your extracurricular activities. 

You’re using a MacBook that’s running Linux and an iPhone 4 that’s running your own program. 

At some point, your phone falls into the wrong hands, and someone asks why it has such high security. You deadpan and say, “I have three older brothers.” No further explanation required.

One such solo case led you to a ring of drug dealers working in a small town outside of Gotham. You made some tranquillizers and heavy-duty smoke bombs and busted out your shinobi-iri training.

After sliding on a mask covering the bottom half of your face that filtered out smoke, you set all of the bombs off at once in the ventilation system, filling the building and using the infrared in your domino mask to sedate everyone before the cops arrived so no one got hurt (because there would inevitably be a firefight if the cops got involved).

You never go into a situation expecting to go hand-to-hand with someone; you always have a plan to take our your targets quickly an efficiently.

One night, when you’re working on a cold case in Gotham, you stumble across some intel that Poison Ivy’s been stockpiling chemicals and is going to wipe out all human life on Earth.

Luckily for you, Bruce’s paranoia is hereditary; you just happen to carry some white kryptonite in your belt, so you won’t have to go all the way back to the cave to obtain some.

You type out a quick debrief on your wrist computer in case you end up needing to send out an S.O.S., pop on your bottom mask to filter out spores or pheromones she might send in your direction, and bust out your shinobi-iri training again.

Of course, you try the peaceful approach, explaining to Ivy that you agree with her on the tree-hugger front to build rapport (T.B.F., who doesn’t?), but it comes to physical confrontation. You kill every vine that comes your way with a quick punch from your kryptonite ring, toss an expanding polyurethane foam bomb (see Batgirl #38) at her feet, and manage to get an inhibitor collar on her.

Gordon takes her away, and by the next morning, it’s on the news.

“You took down Ivy by yourself?” Bruce asks when you come down for breakfast.

“… Yeah,” you say after a moment, expecting a tongue-lashing.

“Are you hurt?”

“No. She didn’t get a hit in. And before you ask, I had a contingency set up in case things went sideways.”

“… Good job.”

Your dad has the article framed in the batcave, which is the bat-equivalent of having your drawing on the fridge or getting a sticker back on a test.

You’re fighting a grin for the rest of the day.

It bugs you you can’t tell anyone why you’re so happy, so you visit Dick in Blüdhaven while he’s on patrol and give him a play-by-play. You even get a hair-ruffle!

Deathstroke targets you at some point. One of Batman and Nightwing’s worst villains, and he targets you because he knows they love you. You’re the smallest bat at the time, the weakest; he thinks you’ll be the easiest to take.

Boy, was he wrong.

He was trained by the League of Assassins, so you know dropping a smoke bomb’s not going to give you cover (and his mask probably has infrared). His brain processes faster than yours, so tricking him is improbable. He’s probably done enough research on you to know you favor foam bombs and has fast enough reflexes to dodge before they go off.

And he’s jammed your comms so you can’t call for backup. You’re worried he’s got kryptonite on him and will hurt Superman if you call for help.

It’s just you and him.

He has enhanced stamina, so he tries to wear you out. You maintain distance to avoid taking damage and wearing faster.

You always admired Tim for his ability to plan ahead (see, like, the entirety of the Red Robin comics). He doesn’t know how he does it; he just does. He can’t really teach you, so you just watch and learn.

You realize your fight with Slade is just a matter of managing the distance and immobilizing him, so you strike. You duck behind a pillar or grab onto a railing or something and shoot him through the thigh with your grappling gun, reeling him in. He, of course, draws his sword or a knife to cut the line, but you’re already throwing high-density expanding polyurethane bombs.

And, just like that, you’ve single-handedly taken Deathstroke.

It sends a clear message to the rest of the Gotham villains, Blüdhaven’s villains, the League of Assassins — don’t mess with the bat’s little girl. She can hold her own.

Now it’s time for you to come up with another plan to take him down; you doubt the same method will work twice, and you’ve just made a very powerful enemy.

As Wonder Woman’s said, “Do not mistake a desire to avoid violence for an inability to deal with it.” You might go into most situations with a plan to take down your opponent already in motion, but when it comes to an all-out brawl, you’re perfectly capable and don’t pull your punches.

You’re working on an unsolved case in Blüdhaven (Dick’s got enough on his plate) when you get an S.O.S. from the aforementioned along with the feed and recording from his mask. You listen to the mission briefing while you ride back to the cave and then the audio from the Young Justice mission. They got jumped by the League of Shadows in an abandoned factory, and Talia’s trying to coerce Damian into joining the League or whatever.

The usual dropping some smoke bombs and tranqing everyone isn’t going to work on thirty armed League assassins who were trained to fight blind, so you load up on polyurethane foam bombs and call Jason and Cassandra.

The three of you take out the guards outside before splitting up and taking either end of the building (Cass stays with you). You meet in the middle, in the room the team’s being held in.

You highjacked the speakers, so they’re blasting AC/DC’s “Shoot to Thrill” upon Jason’s insistence. You wanted Zayde Wølf or Alice Cooper’s “Hey, Stoopid,” but big brothers will be big brothers.

Jason pops them with rubber bullets from above to slow them down for you while Cass demolishes them and you drop foam bombs, slinging your signature custom shuriken, bonk them over the head with Tim’s staff you picked up along the way, dislocate their arms, or shatter their kneecaps. 

You and Jason get a couple slices from swords that got a little too close, but it’s nothing compared to what you’ve had before. 

When the fighting’s done and the building’s quiet, the team’s, like, “Who the heck are you guys?” 

And Dick’s, like, 😏 “They’re our siblings.” 

Speaking of siblings, you’re older than Damian, and as such, you take upon yourself the honor of teaching him all things pop-culture.

“I have a lot of amazing older siblings. I want to be a good big sister.”

First things first, you give him one of your refurbished e-waste phones and take him to Target to pick out an OtterBox or a LifeProof case or something that’ll keep it safe in the pocket of a vigilante.

Vigilantes are always coming to you when their phone’s broken anyway; you’ve got a stack of spares you’ve repaired.

Then you help him set up a Spotify account (follow me at @remakethestars 😉) and try to help him find his rhythm.

Poor child’s never had Oreos before, so you drag a pack of Double Stuffs out of the cabinet and a glass of milk and show him the best milk-dunking method you know.

You think about handing him a cookie and telling him to waterboard it until the bubbles stop coming up, but cookie-dunking is something every kid does; it’s sacred, and you don’t want him to associate it with violence.

You show him how you and Alfred feed the bats in the batcave.

And you show him Vine compilations and your favorite shows and movies and as many classics as you can, and you put up with him pointing out the inaccuracies and calling them stupid.

Every time he doesn’t get a reference, you write it down so you know what to show him later.

If anything ever happens to you, Damian finds your list and makes it his personal mission to watch/read everything on it. It makes him feel close to you.

You build a relationship with him that’s similar to his and Dick’s, and he comes to you with things he might not be able to come to anyone else with.

Plus, since you live in the manor still and he doesn’t want Bruce to think less of him, it’s you he comes to after a nightmare.

If you know Alfred has pictures of him curled up in your side, you ask him to send them to you. Not for blackmail purposes; just to have.

You’d never use the need of comfort or the sharing of emotions against him because (A) it’s perpetuating toxic masculinity and (B) you don’t want him to think it’s wrong or confirm any of the stupid “strength” things the League of Shadows taught him.

You gave him a stuffed cat that looks like Alfred (the cat, not the butler) with some of your perfume spritzed on it. He verbalized his revulsion when you gave it to him, but on nights he has a bad dream and you’re not home, it brings him comfort.

Titus comes to get you when Damian’s upset. 

Even when he’s not with Damian, he seems to know. Pets are like that.

You’ve learned to trust Titus’s instincts. Damian thinks it’s suspicious when he’s feeling down and you just happen to call.

You never realized it until a long time later, but Ace was acting weird the day Jason came back from the dead.

And he was acting weird the day Jason came back to Gotham too. He ran to the door and began barking. Alfred swept security, but nothing seemed to be off. The whole family was on edge that day.

You were the reason Jason knew he wasn’t completely forgotten; he spotted you through a café window, and you were wearing his jacket.

Visit my headcanon masterlist.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (April 9/2021) - Interrogation

Tubbo does some interrogating, hoping to find out the truth about the missing nuke. Foolish joins in.

The mysterious messages continue.

---

VOD LINKS:

HBomb94

Foolish

Tubbo

TommyInnit

Philza

Captain Puffy

Ranboo

---

- HBomb makes his way from the savannah village back to the main area. He explores around Kinoko and meets with Niki, who shows him her underground city.

- After Niki gets a grass block from an Enderman, HBomb mentions the glitched snow block he got a while back on September 24th, near his parkour challenge: the rarest block in the game. He and Niki leave the city to visit it. 

- They reminisce about how HBomb joined the day of Schlatt’s inauguration, and the subject comes up of HBomb’s other characters.

- HBomb logs out and Thevir logs in. Thevir has arrived in the Dream Land. Rumors say, if you go to a special dream land, a green blob gives you more money than usual. Niki shows him around.

- Tubbo needs a way to interrogate people to figure out where the nuke went. He gathers resources to build.

- He remarks that it seems like the Egg is dying away.

SOMEONE NEEDS

TO TELL HIM

- Tubbo takes supplies from Eret and creates the desk of interrogation. He says he needs to scare people so that they take him seriously. 

HE MUST GO TO

- Tubbo emphasizes that this room is for interrogation, not torture. He tries out different shaders to see what would look scariest

THE NORTH

- Tubbo turns on some acid shaders. He walks around the mansion and remarks that it’s even more cursed looking to the north.

- He goes down to the north gate to see what Foolish is up to and turns off the shaders. He decides to interrogate Foolish and tells Foolish to put all his belongings in two barrels.

- Tubbo leads Foolish to the interrogation room and tells him that he’s lost something valuable and needs Foolish to be honest with him.

IF ANYONE CAN

- When the nuke went missing, Foolish was online. Tubbo tells him only three people were on the server that day. Foolish says he was probably just building that day. 

- Tubbo tells him that the missing “firework” is a very big deal. He asks, if Foolish were to steal something, what his motives would be

- Foolish says he’s just building for people. Tubbo asks about the other kingdom that Foolish is building for, and mentions that Foolish is a citizen of Snowchester. If this other kingdom wanted something of Snowchester’s, would Foolish mention anything?

- Foolish says no. He wouldn’t mention the vault or tell the people of the other kingdom about Snowchester’s “fireworks.” He only mentions things concerning the build.

- Tubbo asks if Foolish has ever seen any strange books. A very distinct book. One with a list of instructions. Foolish says no.

- Tubbo says it was more than just a valuable firework. He thinks Foolish is innocent and tells Foolish to walk with him. He leads Foolish to the confidential nuke factory and shows him.

- Foolish asks if it couldn’t have been stolen before. Tubbo tells him that the nuke was there five minutes before, and Foolish was working on the mansion.

- Foolish insists, though, that he has no motive to steal a nuke, as he’s a pacifist. Tubbo trusts him.

- Who would steal a nuke? Who would be an enemy of Snowchester?

HEAR THIS

- Foolish says there’s no one who seems to be on the war path right now. 

- Tubbo tells him that he needs Foolish to gather reconnaissance on all the places he’s been building for. Foolish mentions that there’s another place that he’s been building for, but it’s a secret...there are too many voices, ears and eyes that could be listening. He’ll have to tell Tubbo later.

- Foolish suggests the Eggpire. He tells Tubbo about this event that the Eggpire is holding, a “bury the hatchet” kind of party. He, Sam and Puffy have been invited so far, but there will be more invitations.

- Whoever stole the nuke, they took a scuffed one. One with a dead man’s snitch. It leaks and poisons nature.

- Foolish asks about Sam. What about the prison guard? Tubbo says that Sam’s been couped up. Foolish says he’s worried about Sam, though. Tubbo tells him they’ll kill him someday, put him out of his misery. It wouldn’t be him.

- Tubbo and Foolish return to the interrogation room.

- Is there anyone who lives far away, where if they stored the nuke near their home, they wouldn’t know? Sam lives far away. HBomb lives far away, and Foolish built a mansion for him too, in the savannah. They should pay H a visit.

- They chase after HBomb (Thevir). They spot Niki at the Community House and think it’s H, following her through the Nether to the underground city.

I STASHED A

- They reach the city and see Niki and Thevir together. The two run, and Tubbo and Foolish pan out to look for them.

- Tubbo and Foolish speak with Niki, who insists that she doesn’t know where HBomb is. Niki says H isn’t here, Thevir is here.

- Niki explained that earlier, she showed H around her city and they went to the L’cast area, at which point HBomb’s game crashed and Thevir joined, and Niki has been showing him around.

- Tubbo and Foolish stumble across Thevir hiding in a corner and talk to Niki, who tells them it’s Thevir and not HBomb.

- Tubbo and Foolish tell Niki they lost a weapon and try to waterboard Thevir. (Thevir says that he’s been tortured before and he’s into this, so it isn’t particularly effective)

- Tubbo and Foolish leave. Thevir could possibly have connections to H.

BOOK

- They head to HBomb’s house in the savannah. Foolish asks who else has been to Snowchester? Puffy, Ranboo -- Tubbo says that wouldn’t be possible -- Sam, Fundy...

- They make it to the mansion. Tubbo asks what direction it’s in -- they find it’s east of Snowchester. They search around.

IT HAS INSTRUCTIONS

- Foolish and Tubbo listen to chat to search places. Foolish says they’re all saying to go north, but he doesn’t know why. Tubbo doesn’t think they should go north.

- They think through more possibilities as they run back through the Nether. Quackity? No, Tubbo says he’s on good terms with Quackity. They have mutual respect.

HE NEEDS TO

- Does Tubbo have any enemies? Tubbo mentions that Phil isn’t the biggest fan of him due to the ankle bracelet, but Phil doesn’t really care.

- Tubbo suggests they go to L’manburg. He’s trying to think of past relations. Who were the enemies of L’manburg?

Dream, Technoblade, and Alivebur

- Would someone take the nuke for money or for power? 

Tubbo: “The power. Everything on this server is about power, Foolish.”

- They reach L’manhole.

- Eret? Foolish says that when he spoke with Eret last, he was looking to a clean start.

Tubbo: “There are some benefits to knowing your insides and out around your country.”

- Tubbo leads Foolish down to the old underground library and panic bunker. They look through the chests. There are still bits of yellow and black concrete, blackstone... Original pieces of the walls.

- He takes Foolish through the tunnel to Pogtopia. Foolish remarks that he’s never been.

Wilbur and Tommy split off during the reign of Manberg. Tubbo built this tunnel to Pogtopia, but it was eventually found out.

- They mention that things have been quite...quiet recently.

- Tubbo shows Foolish the water drop escape into the tunnel, mentioning that he used it to escape death many times.

- They reach Pogtopia.

Foolish: “When you see this, do you see this as happy or sad memories?”

Tubbo: “Conflicting memories.”

- Tubbo shows Foolish the old pit. It’s dark, the lights are out. There’s the old potato farm that Tubbo made for Technoblade. They reminisce about Tubbo and Antfrost being taken hostage.

- They head back.

WAKE UP!

- Tubbo explains to Foolish that he built the bunker before the tunnel to Pogtopia. He shows the tunnel through which Tommy and Wilbur escaped during the inauguration.

- Foolish says it seems like L’manburg was a nice little place. Tubbo shows Foolish all the various escape routes he used. Dream used to hunt him down during the first L’manburg War for independence.

- Foolish can’t imagine it. There were so many little skirmishes that used to happen. Tubbo shows him the old surface entrance to Pogtopia.

- Tubbo leads him over to Technoblade’s old secret base. A significant part of history -- the original vault.

They find that some of the chests still have supplies that haven’t been taken yet.

- Tubbo patches it up a bit

Tubbo: “This is not how this place deserves to be remembered.”

- Foolish asks -- was this a revolution, a rebellion? Tubbo says it was a reclaiming. The revolution.

HE MUST!

- Foolish and Tubbo make it back to the crater. Foolish wonders if there would ever be a community like this again. Tubbo doesn’t think so. Everything’s too complicated now, everyone’s too split apart.

Tubbo: “So all we have now is memories.”

Foolish: “Well, we could always try to make new memories.”

Tubbo: “Yeah, but it won’t be the same.”

- Foolish tells Tubbo that Bad and the others have said that they can start cleaning up the Blood Vines.

- Tubbo leads Foolish down the Prime Path, asking whether he knows who built each of the builds along the route. Tubbo tells him who built each one.

- Tubbo thinks the Final Control Room is now gone.

- He shows Foolish his and Tommy’s old nuclear war bunker.

- They then return to Snowchester and the interrogation room. They haven’t narrowed down the suspects.

WAKE UP!!!!!!

- Foolish asks, what if the nukes were never really stolen, but just moved to a different part of Snowchester?

- Tubbo tells Foolish the mansion is north of the facility. They need to pause their investigation for the time being. 

- Tommy does a birthday stream

- Tommy tells Tubbo that he doesn’t think Ranboo is right for him, and getting married at 17 was a bad idea.

- Ranboo joins the call.

- Tommy leads Tubbo into the ruins of Tubbo’s old house to give him some relationship advice. He thinks Tubbo should rebuild his house and move out.

- He then takes Tubbo to his “secret place.” Ranboo’s just there in the call. He asks where all the Egg has been going. He takes Tubbo to Fundy’s house, where he’s been keeping his things.

- Tubbo gets stuck in a cobweb

- Tommy wants to create a proper vault for his things. Drista gave Tommy many seeds.

- They go to see if the barrier block staircase is still there. 

- Tommy wonders what a good place to hide things would be. He mentions Pogtopia.

- Tubbo leads him to L’manhole. Ranboo appears and gives Tommy a Totem of Undying for his birthday.

- They go down to the tunnel. Tommy tells Ranboo to tell him what problems he and Tubbo are having as they reach Pogtopia.

- Tommy starts mining a room into the wall and puts his riches in a chest. He asks Ranboo to talk about his feelings. 

- They ask Sam for help with a redstone door and talk about TNT cannons. Maybe they could launch one at the prison to get to Dream. Sam comes to Pogtopia. He gives Tommy a few stacks of TNT for his birthday.

- They ride the railway back to L’manburg.

- They try to blow up the POG2020/ASS2020/CRY sign and in the process explode pretty much everything but. Tommy dies and respawns a million blocks away. He can’t break the bed due to mining fatigue. The totem was used up, he just died again and lost all his things.

- The CRY sign is now the Y7 sign

- They decide to work on clearing off Ponk and Punz’s towers of the Blood Vines. Here are some of the more interesting quotes that came up...

“My sacrifices are boneless, man, just like the wings.” - Ranboo

“Moist is just wet without the commitment.” - Ranboo

“God, why did you invent impotence?” - Tommy

“Who’s the god of English?”  “Shakespeare?”

“The mouth sounds are the reason why we can’t remember!” - Ranboo

“How do you reckon you’ll die?” - Tubbo

“Volcano.” - Tommy

- Afterwards, they head over to Ranboo’s house. The instant Phil logs on, Tommy logs off.

- Phil, Ranboo and Tubbo hang out at the Arctic.

- Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson wishes Tommy a happy birthday and tells him to drink tequila.

- Ranboo fills a whole barrel full of totems.

---

Upcoming Events:

- The Red Banquet

- Quackity’s lore stream on Monday

- Quackity’s business opening

- Dream’s lore video

- Ranboo’s lore stream

[creetchure]

dont hold your breath

day one of @themerrywhumpofmay

cws : whipping, restraints, ptsd, defiant whumpee

Phil’s never done well with rope, so maybe he should be grateful they bound him in leather instead. 

His wrists have been pulled together so tight he can't feel his fingertips anymore, the tingling gone for a good hour now. It's kind of worrying, but so is everything else about this, so he puts it in the background for the moment. He'll get blood flowing back in later. 

They've left him alone for now. 

He'd have expected them to start as soon as they got him in this damp fucking room, but no. either they have plans that don't include trying to get Techno's whereabouts, or they want something else, and he's not sure what. 

Techno and him have a plan worked out for situations like these anyways. They'd always talk, always tell on each other, as long as they knew their opponents wouldn't be more than men. Armies were something else. 

There had only been three of them, getting Phil by surprise, so he feels like he's pretty free to just give them what they want. 

Phil leans back. 

The chair is cold metal against his bare back. There are worse situations to be in, he tells himself, the last time this happened his back had been filled with splinters when Techno had gotten him back. That had *not* been a fun time for either of them back home, buckling every single one out before Phil could even think of getting his wings out again. 

They're firmly in his back, a mere tattoo, black against pale skin. It's uncomfortable, but it gives them less skin to grip. 

The door opens and Phil pointedly does not jump. “Hey mate, how's it going?” he asks. 

The man doesn't answer. 

He's holding something, and Phil's blood freezes in his veins when his eyes slide down to it. 

Fuck. 

That's far from ideal.

The man's hand slide to the handle.

Fuck fuck fuck he can't do this, not again. 

He can handle punches, he can handle getting waterboarded, he can handle anything, but the mere sight of the whip makes a keen build up in his chest. He squirms away in his restraints, pushing himself the tiniest bit further from it. 

The man chuckles. “They told us you wouldn't like that, but I didn't expect it to work that well.” 

Phil bares his teeth at him. “Fuck off.” His past is his own. There are scars that run deep under his tattooed back and they're all things better left unsaid. “I'll give you what you want.” He doesn't try to keep up the pretence, that's only fun if he keeps the upper hand. 

“Oh? What's that?” he asks, turning the chair around roughly. 

Phil loses his balance, biting his tongue hard when he does. “You want to know where Techno is. I'll tell you. He'll kill you for taking me.” 

He hums. “Tell me then.” 

He starts slowly unrolling the whip and Phil is like transfixed. He can't tear his eyes away from it, no matter how much it makes him want to throw up. He can't almost hear the cracks, can almost feel it burn on his back already, splitting skin and digging deep where his wings sat. 

Phil swallows. His chest is way too tight. He can't look away. “He's in Business Bay. Settling a deal. Cant tell you exactly where he sleeps, but it’ll be near the town centre.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It is,” Phil says, glaring. “Go after him. See how you like it.” 

He hums again. 

Then the chair is overturns and Phil's face is on the ground. 

It's wet. There's mud in his mouth and Phil can't even spit it out. He can only roll to the side with the way his hands are tied, which isn't the most useful. 

The man puts his foot on his neck and Phil stops breathing. 

“Don't hold your breath. You know what's coming.” 

Phil does. He did the moment the man came in, but he gave him what he wanted. “I gave you what you wanted.” 

The man tuts. “You gave me what you *thought* I wanted. You were wrong.” 

There's a crack and Phil closes his eyes, the smallest chirp escaping his lips. He can do this. He can keep himself together, he can. The man won't get to hurt him that way. He won't. 

“What do you want?” he asks through gritted teeth, the words painful to say. 

“I want to make you bleed,” the man says lightly. “I want Technoblade to be angry, and you seem to be the best way for me to get that.” 

Phil laughs. “You want Techno angry? That's a death certificate, *mate*.” 

He hums. “He'll be distracted. He can't really focus on someone going after him if he's looking after *you*, can he? Half feral best friend, cant pull himself out of memories of another life, can't be the right hand he needs when he's reliving hell. That sounds like a win for me.” 

Theres a crack. 

Phil flinches and makes another noise, high in his throat. 

“*Exactly*. You go right back where you belong, *angel*.” 

Phil doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of reacting to that name. He's not been an angel for a long time, and he would have liked to keep it that way a little bit longer, thank you. He's not going to slip just because of one man. 

There's another crack, and this time it's accompanied by blinding pain. 

Phil does not lose himself. 

He curls up and breathes through his nose, slow and controlled. He will not give him the satisfaction. He will not give him what he wants.

“Fuck. You.” 

The man laughs. 

The whip. 

The burning sensation *right* above his wing, *right* where another scar runs deep enough that it has his wing tingling most day, nerves not quite connecting right anymore. 

Phil doesn't want to give him the satisfaction. 

But then there's another crack, loud enough to draw a *growl* out of Phil, and he's back in that pit. 

His talons are digging into the ground, and he is not Phil anymore. 

[blonde-in-charge]

Wildcard, Chapter Three

Words: 2.6k

Summary: Steve Rogers found you on the side of the road after a mission involving Hydra and convinced the Avengers to take you in. You have no name, no memories, and no idea of what you are capable of. All you know is that you are a super soldier with more hidden abilities than you care to admit. The first step to finding answers was to train you. Nobody, including you, knows what is up your sleeve.

Characters: Bucky x reader, Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Random Hydra guy, Sam Wilson

Warnings:  Mentions of blood/violence, brief unwanted touching, Cursing, Fluffy!Bucky, Flirting

Words: 2.6k

The table underneath you was frozen from the amount of stress you had been under. They just kept injecting things into you, hoping to get some kind of reaction from your body. You had stopped feeling the pain of the needle and experiments weeks ago, which just made everything worse for you in the long run. They were getting annoyed with the fact you had stopped reacting to whatever painful serum they had injected you with that day and it resulted in beating to get a reaction from you. You stared up at the cracked ceiling of your concrete room and counted each crack for the millionth time. You kept yourself company in your mind, getting lost in your thoughts to pass the time until your next beating. You shivered at the cold beneath you, the last serum made ice bleed from every one of your pores. You heard the shrill sound of the old iron door open from the side of the room, you didnt turn your head to see whoever came in anymore, they were all the same type of evil. 

“Your wounds have healed very quickly, you are replicating the progress of our last soldier.” said the thick voice. You hated to think someone else had gone through this hell before you had. You wondered if they escaped or died before they moved onto you. 

You felt a burn in the back of your throat, “What's on the menu today doc? Electro-therapy? Waterboarding? New superhuman power that causes injury to one of your minions?” The one fond memory in your head of this place, being your body set itself on fire as well as one of the more hostile minions of Hydra. You smirked fondly at the memory as the hydra doctor worked his way around you observing the healing process. Every wound that opened on your body disappeared within a couple of hours, which is apparently what they wanted. 

“Nothing on the menu today, we are going to start to prepare you for the memory wipe.” Was all the man said and you felt your heart jump into your throat as the man chuckled, “You will do great things for us, American Girl.” You started pulling at your restraints for the first time in weeks, trying to fight your way off of the table once again. The man gave you a sickening chuckle while watching you struggle and you glared at him. He reached up to run a dirty hand slowly up your leg, “Such a pretty girl, such a shame you must-” He ended his sentence abruptly as you lit your body on fire, burning the man's flesh. You grinned at him as your body started to fizzle out. He held his burnt hand to his body and looked at you with rage, “You stupid slut.” 

You continued to grin as he left the room, feeling somewhat accomplished. Your smile slowly faded as you thought back on the memories they would take from you. Y/N Y/L/N, you were a successful accountant in one of the most successful banks in Manhattan. You lived alone, you haven't spoken to your family since you lost your father. Your mom became an alcoholic after his death, the only thing you really regretted was leaving your little sister, Macy, behind. Your job would have already replaced you by now, and people would have stopped looking for you. You stopped fighting for an escape because you knew you had nothing to go back to. 

-

You woke up slowly to the sound of soft snoring, your body tensed up, wondering who was in your bed. Then you realized this wasn't your bed when you looked up into the face of the sleeping soldier. Your body instantly relaxed as you lay your head back on his chest. His right arm was slung over your waist and his metal arm was holding your forearm against his stomach gently. You closed your eyes, replaying the events of the night before in your head. Hydra had come back for you, but for what reason? Then your eyes snapped open and you looked up at Bucky gently shaking him. He opened his eyes slowly and looked down at you, obviously confused about why he was holding you. Realization dawned on him and his eyes filled with concern, “You okay?” 

“Y/L/N.” Was all you said to him as you continued to stare into his steel eyes.

“Who is that?” He asked, raising his eyebrow.

“I remembered my last name.” You said softly to him, “I remember my life before I was taken.”

He sat up quickly and looked into your eyes, “You remember now?” You nodded your head at him, unsure whether you should smile or cry. “Y/N, that's amazing.”

You looked away from him and sat back, “Is it?” you replied solemnly.

“Why wouldn't it be?” He tilted his head slightly, trying to read your thoughts. The sound of the door sliding open cut off your response as Steve came in. Steve stopped in the doorway and examined the scene in front of him. You were sitting to the side of Bucky, wearing his shirt with no pants on, with your legs strung across his thighs. Bucky had his metal hand resting against your calf and was leaning back against the headboard behind him. Bucky’s face turned a dark pink as he realized the situation before taking his hand off of your leg. You remained unphased as you looked over at Steve. 

Steve watched you both and cleared his throat, “The safe house is all set up, can you both be ready by 0300?” You nodded at Steve, who glanced back at Bucky before leaving the room.

You both sat in silence for a moment before you crawled over bucky to the other side of the bed, his eyes perked up as he watched you unmoving, “Where are you going?”

“I have to pack my bag, don’t I?” You stood up and raised your arms above your head to stretch out your back. 

Bucky started to climb out of the bed himself before he stood next to you, “I’ll go with you.” You laughed softly and chose to not object to his company. He followed you down the hallway to your room and you stopped in the doorway to survey the damage. Your bed hung off the side of the bed frame as if the mattress had been thrown. The drawers in your dresser were all thrown open and all of the clothes were spread around the room on the floor. You sighed quietly and started picking up articles of clothing. You searched around for the SHIELD duffle bag you had before shoving clothes into it. Bucky’s eyes raked across the room, he walked towards the bed and adjusted it to its correct position before picking up shirts and folding them neatly into the bed. You smiled slightly to yourself as you found a pair of leggings on the ground and started pulling them on and up over your thighs. You struggled slightly and then looked up to see Bucky staring at you. 

He stilled, realizing he had been caught and looked down at the tee shirt in his hands, “Sorry, guess I got distracted.”

You laughed softly and patted him on the arm, “It's okay Buck, it's not like I don't stare at you sometimes.” You were unashamed of the confession. Sometimes while training you'll watch Bucky in the gym and sometimes, if you're lucky, you'll be able to see him lift his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his face. You would never apologize for that.

Bucky looked utterly confused as you packed the last of your things and zipped up your bag, throwing it over your shoulder. He stood up with you and looked down at you. You weren't a short person, you were taller than most girls but still shorter than all of the male avengers so you barely had to crane your neck up at him. His steel blue eyes looked so much lighter in the moment. You turned away from him and started walking towards the door, looking back at him. “Ready?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah, go meet with Steve, let me grab my bag.” You nodded at Bucky as you walked into the living area, ignoring the shattered glass on the floor you followed the voices to the kitchen.

“So she just hopped up on this man's shoulders and took him down like that?” Sam snapped his fingers together to get the point across, “Did Natatsha teach her that?”

Tony shook his head and bit the fingernail of his thumb, replaying the 30 second hallway footage from the night before, “Natasha hasn't moved past the basics of fighting with her, we have been focusing on figuring out what she can do power wise.” Steve stood silently with the three, his arms crossed watching the looped video. 

Sam shook his head at the screen, “This chick is a total wildcard.”

You dropped your bag on the ground behind them making them all turn around quickly. You stared at the projection in front of you, you barely recognized yourself. You have never been able to put Sam on his ass in the ring and now you're swinging your body weight around on some random guy? The temperature dropped a couple of degrees in the room as a result of your anxiety. The three men stared at you as you took a step back, you made eye contact with Steve, “Y/L/N.”

Steve looked confused, “What? Who’s name is that?”

“Mine.” You said quietly, “My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I had a dream about it. I know my name.”

-

You sat at the table along with Steve and Sam. You were staring off at a wall while shoveling cereal into your mouth. You had only been at the tower for about two weeks now and had a good routine with the two men in front of you. You still didn't have a name. You have been going by kid, kiddo, chick, and rescue. You have been searching your brain for a hint of what your name would be. You tried making up names but none of them suited you the way you wanted it to. You listened to the two men bicker over different work out strategies. You stared off at the wall and thought about how you planned on changing your hair color to maybe platinum blonde. You reached out to grab your glass off the table and grunted when it wouldn't budge. You looked up at the two men staring at you with wide eyes before following their gaze to your hand. The liquid in the glass was frozen solid and the glass stuck to the table in a block. You removed your hand and looked at your palm, which was tinted blue, “Well that's new.” 

Sam tapped on your frozen glass, “Holy shit, Elsa.” You rolled your eyes and rubbed your hands together trying to maintain heat.

Steve watched you, “Has this ever happened before?”

You shook your head and reached out to grab your glass again. Your strength became too much and the frozen glass shattered in your hand. You remained still as Sam hopped up from the table. 

“Jesus fucking christ, kid.” Sam started picking up the larger pieces of glass

“Language.” Steve went into the other room to retrieve a handheld vacuum 

You looked down at your hand and saw little cuts leaking blood in the palm, today just wasn't your day. You stood up from the table and walked over to the sink, running your hand under the water. You were getting really sick of this superpower thing. You have broken so many things so far due to the super strength you can’t control. You sighed as you watched the small cuts on your hand knit themselves back together, you would never get used to that. On the brightside, it didn't hurt. You have not felt the pain of anything you have broken or ran into, the only pain you ever felt was the headache that never went away. You dried your hand off and ran your fingers through your hair.

“Sorry guys… Still getting used to,” You held up your hands, “this.” 

Steve smiled knowingly, “It's okay, kid. I remember when I received my serum, it took a minute to adjust.”  

You gave him a small smile, “Why do you guys keep calling me kid?”

Sam and Steve looked at each other. Sam was the one who spoke first, “You don't really have a name right now.”

“Oh it's Y/N.” You shrugged at the guys and returned to your seat at the table as they stared at you. 

“Did that just come to you?” Steve asked while looking at your seated figure, “It kind of suits you.”

“I think it's my name? It just came to me at the sink and its the only name that doesnt make me want to kill myself.” You smiled as the two men started chuckling at you. 

“I think I will stick to ridiculous nicknames if you don't mind.” Sam said, smiling at you and ruffling your hair. 

-

Tony wasted no time typing your name into the database to pull up a missing persons profile. A photo was pulled up onto the hologram screen and you silently stared at it. It was you, well at least a version of you. You looked so young, your face was effortlessly smooth with a light layer of makeup, and your mouth was pulled in an easy grin. Your hair was pulled back in a sleek low ponytail and you were wearing a white collared shirt with a blazer layered over it. You started into your eyes on the projection, it felt like looking at someone else. 

“You were an accountant? That's boring.” Sam started while eye the photo of you

Tony scanned the photo and then started typing something into the projection. An article pulled up next to the photo, “Y/N Y/L/N, missing for two years, stopped coming into work and her apartment was empty… blah blah blah.” 

“Tony.” Steve warned, coming to put a hand on your shoulder. You looked back at him before shaking off his hand and picking up your bag.

“We should go, right?” You ignored the look Steve gave you before you walked to Bucky’s room, knocking on the mangled door

Bucky met you at the threshold of the door, sensing your discomfort, “You okay, doll?” He raised an eyebrow at you

You raised your own eyebrow, “Doll?” Heat rushed to Bucky's cheeks and you smirked at him, “Grab your bag Buck, it's time to go.” You winked at him and turned away to walk to the elevator door. You rested your nag on the ground as you waited for Steve and Bucky to join you. You leaned back against the wall and sighed loudly, your headache returning.

The two men walked together side by side to meet up with you. Steve pressed the elevator button and debriefed you both about the agents who would escort you to the safe house. You and Bucky both nodded in understanding before stepping onto the elevator. Steve made eye contact with you before the doors completely shut.

“Be safe, kiddo.” You smiled at his words as the doors shut completely.