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lil-spider · 1 year ago

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So Damn Pretty

Chapter 3

Part 2 : Part 4 :

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter X Female Reader

Summary: Johnny is sex starved and you’re very attractive, so attractive that he doesn’t want to kill you. Instead he finds ways to keep you around longer.

Note: Ive made Sissy a traditional woman who helps cooks and clean, but I also like to think she’s a modern woman that likes to smoke the zaza in her downtime while listening to groovy music. Im trying to make this a pwp. I’m not sure how many chapters but I want it to be a slight slow burn with some angst mixed in with other things. Johnny also wants the wants the reader to join the family and become one of them but he knows reader won’t be willing, so he has a plot in mind for her. That will all come later on heheh.

Warning: This is 18+ and please do not read if your sensitive to heavy descriptions of non/con and violence. Including bondage, blood, gore, assault, objectification and unsafe sex. For those who don’t mind, I hope you enjoy.

I dream of what might have been if the minivan had never broken down or I hadn't accepted Johnny's offer. In my dream, I would be out in nature with my closest friends, unwinding by a campfire, and toasting marshmallows. They give me a radiant, loving smile. I want to tell them how much I miss them, but when I'm abruptly roused by strong sensations, they disappear from view.

My clit is throbbing, my nipples are aching, and I feel a fullness down below. “Nnnnngh.’’ I groan out, my eyes trying to adjust and widening as I witness Johnny hovering over me, sucking on each of my nipples. I let out a loud gasp, realising his thick, hard cock was inside me, fucking me. “Mornin’.” Is all he says as he sits up, grabbing my legs and pulling them over his shoulders to pound into me. “Wait!’’ I yelled, but he kept going, thrusting even harder at my pleas. How long has he been fucking me?

“Fuck, I can’t get enough of your pussy.”He groans, keeping up his relentless pace. “Waking up to your wet cunt grindin’ on me.” He drops my legs and wraps them around his waist, going into the missionary position. “It was a clear invitation for my cocky darlin'.”

Placing his arms on the sides of the pillow, caging my head. He gets closer to my face while holding himself up. He watches my pretty face contort from sleepiness to pleasure.

I moan like a whore as his cock reaches places other men I’ve fucked could never get to. I’m starting to get addicted to the sex we keep having, never wanting to stop. “You’re just so fuckin’ pretty.” He groans, admiring me. Then diving into a heated kiss. My throbbing clit twinges at his compliment. What is this man doing to me? He leans back up away from my face and grips my hips, focusing his thrusts on a hard, steady rhythm, getting closer to cummming. I move my hand down to rub my clit, getting closer to that feeling. But he grabs my hand.

“Have you learned nothin’?” He’s now angrily pounding into me, losing that perfect rhythm. I whimper at the change. “If you want to fuckin’ cum rubbing your clit, you've got to ask permission.” He states. Pinching my nipples harshly. I thrust my hips back into him, groaning. “Have I been fuckin’ ya' too much? You’ve gone stupid now?” He pants out. His cock twitching at my needy moans. I nod my head at his words desperate to cum. He lets out a deep chuckle at my agreement. “Okay, then, baby, this is the last time.” Johnny whispers to me softly. Proceeding to get me off, he rubbed his left thumb on my achy clit, circling it. I throw my head back into the pillow, my hands grasping the bed frame.

He’s adjusted his hips and body lower so he can hit deeper. I squirm around as he goes back to sucking each of my nipples and biting them. He groans as I clench around his cock, each time he bites a nipple. He rubs my clit faster, feeling me tighten up, about to finish. “Johnnnnny.’’ I whine as I cum on his hard cock. Shutting my eyes, as he grips my hips, slamming into me, chasing his own release. He tucks his head into my neck, biting it hard, drawing blood as hot ropes of cum pump into me. I shiver from both sensations. He licks up the blood leaking out of the bite wound. “My favourite girl.” He speaks softly in my ear, making butterflies fill my stomach. He slides his dick out and cleans himself up with a grey t-shirt he grabbed from his old tallboy. He gives me the shirt so I can wipe up his cum. “Get dressed; I’m bringing you down to the kitchen to help Sissy make breakfast.” He tells me, while throwing me my discarded white dress.

Thinking about what Johnny did to me while I was asleep, I'm behaving a little hesitant as I get dressed. In an effort to seem presentable as I wait for Johnny, I run my fingers through my matted hair. He puts on his blue tank top and denim trousers, takes his belt and knife from his desk, wraps it through his jeans, and places the knife behind him. He looks really good and the way he walks so confidently leaves me a little flustered. While slicking his hair back on his way out the door, he grabs his lighter and carton of cigarettes.

“Come on,” I re-arrange my white dress and follow him downstairs. If not for the numerous bone decorations, the house would be magnificent. I bite the inside of my cheek and look around following after Johnny. He stops as he approaches the kitchen and chuckles at my uncomfortable expression as I unintentionally bump into him. As she chops some strawberries, Sissy laughs at my awkwardness. “Aww, sugar!” She laughs once again when she sees my red face. “Oh, Johnny, she's so adorable.” Both of them smile at me as he nods to her. Both of them smile at me as he nods to her. “She will help you out today while I finish up in the yard with Nubbins; Bubba is downstairs if you need him; and the old man is returning today.” I pick up on the slight annoyance in his voice when mentioning this old man.

Now it's just me and Sissy when he leaves with a “see ya.” I twiddled my fingers apprehensively, unsure of what to say or do. Sissy, however, snatches my hands and beams at me, saying, “I knew this dress would look great on your pretty frame.” She speaks adoringly as she examines me from head to toe. When she notices the bite mark on my neck, she hums and pulls me away from the kitchen backup stairs leading to her room. Her room is more colourful, with a bunch of posters and plants; it is far more attractive than Johnny's. She takes out a tin containing crème. She applies it to the bite mark, which gives me some relief. “There, sugar, this will help it heal; you don't want it infected now.” She seems to be really good with medicine and poisons, thinking back to the white powder blown in my face.

She walks over to a vintage white makeup vanity and pulls out a chain inventing me to sit. I look into the vanities mirror as sissy starts brushing my hair removing the tangles, I’ve got dark circles from lack of sleep and dehydration. “As long as you behave pumpkin I’ll keep ya refreshed.’’ She lightly warns me putting my hair in a double Dutch braid tying my hair halfway so it’s in pigtails. It’s really pretty. “It beautiful.’’ I tell her and she smiles brightly at me. How can someone her smiles so lovely be a murderer. “Sissy?’’ I ask her. “Yes pumpkin?” She responds putting some oil in my ends. “Do you eat people?’’ She’s pauses looking me still with a smile. “Times have been rough sugar, it’s just the way we are and if you want to stay alive you must follow our ways.’’ She advises me.

“Johnny likes you, and I do too, but my pa’ is coming back today. And he's the one in charge." She continues. “We’ve never left one of the victims alive, so you're pretty special, but ya’ need to prove yourself. Can ya’ do that for me, sugar?” She steps away, waiting for my reaction. I nod my head, looking at her. She grins warmly, “For now, we get to the chores. Our first job of the day is breakfast. We’re making pancakes, and then we'll tend to the greenhouse. We’ve got plenty of strawberries to pick as they're in season.”

We returned to the kitchen, and thanks to Sissy, I felt much better. In contrast to Johnny, who is quite intense. Her relaxing demeanour eases my anxiety. She asks me to set up the table, wash and cut up the strawberries, and put them in a bowl while she flips the pancakes. This family seems to function normally despite the horrendous things that happened to my friends. Sissy breaks those thoughts ringing a loud bell as she placed the cooked pancakes on the plates, suggesting it was time to eat.

I placed the bowl of strawberries in the centre of the table. I also set down glasses while gets the water jug from the fridge. She motions for me to take a seat at the end, next to her. She departs, claiming that she has to feed Grandpa. How big is this family? The others appear as I sit waiting. First to arrive is Johnny, who is shirtless and carrying his top over his shoulders. The Texas heat has left sweat dripping over his muscles. I squeezed my thighs at the sight of him. He takes a seat at the end, facing me.

After him another man and Bubba arrive sitting down. The new man notices me arose the table. He’s is a lanky man with a scar or birthmark? Running down his face, much larger then Johnny’s. “Whose this?’’ He questions with a slight a speech impediment. “This is Y/N she’s our new house maid’’ Johnny answers him amused. “Maid? We can’t afford a maid.” He argues with Johnny, who just rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry bout’ it Nubbins; she’s just gonna help with chores, less work for us.’’ Nubbin’s perks up at the thought of doing less chores, he looks me up and down squinting. “You like pictures?’’ He asks me giving me a broad smile; a little creeped out I just nod my head. “Enough chatter; let’s dig in before breakfast gets cold.’’ Sissy says walking back in taking a seat next to me. Breakfast was actually really good, I gotta give props to Sissy, she can cook.

I helped Sissy clean up after everyone was finished. As the men went back to their activities. I decided to ask Sissy some questions. “How big is your family?” I ask. She washed the dishes as I dried. “Not too big but perfect, there is Grandpa; he taught us everything there is to know about killin’. Johnny is the youngest and my cousin; his mother', Nancy, is my aunt; and the other boys are my uncles. Pa is currently out of town for a chilli festival, but he should be back tonight.’’ She speaks with such pride and love for her family. It’s honestly really touching, even if they are all crazy. “Okay, yeah, now I understand.” I tell her. She’s smiles. “Do you have any family?” I shake my head. “Not much; I've got no siblings or cousins; my parents are out of state. So it's just been me for a long time.” She hugs me, feeling sympathy for me even though I don't mind having less family. “Don’t worry, sugar, I have a feeling you're going to fit right in with my family.” I feel conflicted at her words.

In the kitchen, we wrapped things up. “The greenhouse is our next task.” Sissy leads me to the backyard greenhouse. It has tomatoes strawberries, onions, and carrots. She shows me how to care for each plant, grabbing the vegetables and placing them in a basket. She even shows me her special herbs in the back that she is cultivating and drying. She has one I easily recognise, marijuana. She covers her mouth with a finger as I gawk at her in disbelief. It seems nobody has any idea what it is. “I learnt how to grow it when I was in California.” She clarifies for me.

‘’The boys have all their own little enjoyments, but this is mine; I'll let you try some later.” She tells me with a wink. “That sounds amazing.” I told her, grinning. We chat more as we work. After learning about each other, it seems she’s really happy to have a girl her age to talk to. She mentions her beautiful ‘sisters’ from her California family and how much she misses them. She said I reminded her of them. She also talks about her old sweetheart, Charlie, and how she would do anything to see him again. I'm a little gobsmacked to find that she was part of the Manson cult. I recall reading about his arrest after the murder of that actress. I don’t think she took a part of that, but she ran back here after he got arrested. “I felt bad when I came home. Johnny’s mother’ still isn’t happy with me. She thinks I’m ungrateful, but I love this family—probably more than her. I just wanted to get away, to find myself, ya’ know?’’ She rants at me. “I understand, Sissy, you wanted an escape, an adventure.” She has a sweet smile while clipping away at the plants. “Yeah, an adventure.” She agrees.

“I must admit that I was surprised when Johnny decided to keep you alive; he's never kept anyone alive for this long. And if he does, he keeps them in the basement and never upstairs.” She comes to a halt and looks me in the eyes. “I now understand why,” She grabs my hand and her basket of vegetables and hurries me back to the kitchen before I can answer. “We need to start fixing lunch and dinner right away.”

I'm left in the kitchen while Sissy goes down to the basement to get more 'ingredients,' as she tried to put it kindly, since I now know the source. But as I start to peel the carrots, Johnny wanders in, still shirtless. He stops and examines me, now noticing my new hairstyle. “To my room.” That's all he says to me as he walks away. Geez, he makes me feel anxious. I set the carrot and peeler down and headed to Johnny's room, not sure what to expect.

#johnny slaughter #johnny slaughter x reader #tcm fanfic #texas chainsaw massacre fanfiction #texas chainsaw game #smut #texas chainsaw massacre #sissy slaughter

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voidsentprinces · 7 months ago

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Join FFXIV we got:

Fuckable Monster Gods, Yandere General, SUCH DEVASTATION, Malevolent Breadloaf, Hate Fuck Philosophy between Church's Money Illiterate Doomslayer and the Heretical Dragon fuckers, Bestest Boy, Butch Scholar with an axe, France with hot single elves, Lesbian Gunslingers, Manwhore of Astrology, his love rival and the asexual woman who has no clue, Inner Feral State, his legal partner and their adopted daughter, Murder Bimbo, his angry red head and their sadistic feral viceroy with her himbo henchman, Hopeless Romantic who gets bullied, his very heterosexual tribe of male only warriors, the apeshit warlock stealing his women while being transpiritual and a shepherd wife, frat boy emperor, Iroh Samurai and the sickest ninja woman ever, Your Own Personal Catboy, his eligible straightforward daughter who is also captain the guard, THE HIMBO FAMILY complete with bomb throwing cat girl, adoptive mechanical nonbinary child, and psychotic hard line temper mother, entire village of rabbit woman, the most love struck catboy outside the Crystarium and his religious group, an entire kingdom of nonbinary fae folk and their they/them King, the Ghosts of Christmas Past as well the Ghost of Christmas Present with his talking dog, THE TRUEST BESTEST BOY and his robot companion, the Dragon Father and his brood of angsty teenagers, Genocidal Tsundere Emperor, his grandson no-nonsense Emperor and the pretty boy handsome girl of ancient times, the hero worshiping companion of eld who doesn't remember you BUT YOU CAN FIX HIM!, a entire continent of nerds ripe for the punching, an entire continent of geeks ripe for picking on you and your companions including their leader SCIENCE WIFE, SUCH DEVASTATON's extended family who will remain perfect if you don't touch that fucking side quest, an entire moon of bunny people not to be confused with the village of rabbit women but while we're talking about rabbit people have this stoic and handy rabbit man and his VERY ENTHUSIASTIC TRANS LION FRIEND! Did we mention you get a punchy very enthusiastic woman clad in red? Drop by Ala Mhigo she is always happy to help you punch things! Also while you're there meet the main soldier you're deprogramming from the Garlean Cult he likes giving buuz to people and has this...Great Dane vibe, I don't know how else to describe it. Got a moment? Meet your adoptive family, a knife daughter and her hammer girlfriend, a sword daughter and her scholarly brother, an entire orphanage out of both Ul'dah AND Idyllshire, and a berb daughter who almost ended the entire universe because she COUDLNT STOP FEELING!!!!!!!!!! Also meet more monsters for you to fuck Flayed Demon, MUSCLE GODDESS, Cowabunga, grumpy fire man, and Knight in Shining Identity Theft, and their friend nonbinary lass who can kill AND EAT! There is, of course, also...adoptive fathers in partnership with you and knife daughter, wine aunt of a thousand Fire IVs, a cantankerous short lad, scholar woman who is getting into art, Tataru the Most Powerful and Important Character in the game and therefore the only one I shall refer to by name here, THE HORNIEST WOMAN IN ALL OF FICTION, two Roegadyn brothers, a fabulous elezen healer and her exasperated sister, the adoptive mother and legendary dancer AND bartender, an equally exasperated woman who just convinced her patriarch to retire from adventuring, a short Sultana, an oblivious Seedseer, and the greatest admiral to grace this franchise, General Father and his son from the Shire, the inventor with a heart of gold, his companions, their stern manager, and the gremlin man who is here to make the inventor eat his shirt while laughing. AND THATS JUST THE PEOPLE IN THE MAIN STORYLINE.

So join FFXIV today.

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smellofemale · 5 months ago

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guuuyyyysss i think i accidentally shifted 2 a parallel reality hahahhea

(i copied this from a message i sent to my friend, so im sorry if it's hard to read 😭😭 that's just how i communicate with her, and i don't feel like proofreading hahahea)

but i can't stop thinking abt a dream i had haheheha

it was super realistic, it was semi-lucid and i remember i was like in a really bad place and people were like getting murdered and stuff and then right as 1 of the bad guys were looking at me/coming to kill me, he just dropped (i think got shot or something) and everything started shaking and i and a bunch of people got up and started running (i did aswell) and a giant hole opened in the sky and it like sucked me in and then i was in this place, it seemed like the 90s, it was like a dark alley, basement room thing 😭 and in 1 room there was a gay bar and in the other there was a lesbian one, obvi i went in2 the lesbian 1 🙉🙉 there were some hot people there, the girl that i've recently been visualizing as my gf was there(she's technically not real, i made her up ahhaheha) and she was hitting on me, i had my ideal appearance and everything, it was so amazing 😭 idk if i should relate that 2 shifting or not 🧍🏼‍♀️ like i get sucked in2 a giant hole in the sky and it brings me 2 a place ive always dreamed of. i was also listening 2 a void subliminal, and i had ANOTHER dream that night where a family friend just kept repeating 'i always wake up in the void state, aware' to me, which are the affirmations of the subliminal i fell asleep 2 😭😭 so idk

and i woke up in different pants. i fell asleep with grey sweatpants on and woke up in red plaid pants with the pants. i fell asleep on the other side of the room. u could definitely argue that i put them on while i was like half aswell or something, but im a heeeaavvvyyy sleeper, and i don't move at all when i sleep. i wouldn't have gotten up to change pants !

(if anybody has trouble reading anything i said, just ask and i'll clarify!!)

#shiftblr #the void state #shifting realities #void state #reality shifting

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melljam · 6 months ago

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gosh this facial expression samuel makes is sooo interesting to me >_<

looong analysis below

only skimmed over some chapters to find it so im not sure if this is necessarily always the case but so far, all the instances ive seen of it have been in relation to samuels inferiority complex and jake

all of situations have been ones where samuel is evidently unstable (because of jake) and yet he can still look strangely calm while being in a manic state , which is considerably unsettling and adds some depth to his unwell behavior beyond “i will beat your ass reeeaally hard” (which is fun but ouhh the psychological aspects of his fights are so interestingg)

-> first image (and its context)

from chapter 311, samuels cruel treatment of the big deal girls prompt them to protest the conditions that he is forcing them to work in to make a 100k won in a month. yeonhui tries to bring up jake and how he would never do this to them and samuel immediately responds by trying to hit her (thank god jerry intervened)

when i first read this chapter and saw this scene i was so enamored with it because oh my god . its just so indicative of samuels character and how much his feelings of inferiority get to him. he doesnt care that he was about to hit yeonhui in front of everyone, he only knows that she compared him to jake and insinuated that jake is better than him, which strikes his sorest spot in the worst way possible (and no one truly understands why)

samuel got a lot more expressive after the big deal arc but his eyes in that picture say so much . he is brimming with rage and jealously over the mere mention of jakes name and comparison to him. the implication that jake could have done better, would have done better, than him just destroys any of his self esteem and sense of achievement while also bringing back all of the grief over feeling like he is no longer on equal footing with jake. he is being reminded of how he is now below him in every aspect (morally, family-wise due to gapryong, and later on in terms of strength since he loses against jake)

he is overwhelmed with his emotions and the only way that it can play out on his face is with a seemingly neutral expression displaying a crazed ache deeply ingrained into his eyes

-> second and third image

from chapter 466, during jake and samuels fight while samuel is drugged to give him a heightened feeling of inferiority and subsequent mania (or ‘frenzy’ as the official translation puts it)

all of his insecurities and terrible feelings are being intensified and it is absolutely not being helped by the fact he is fighting jake, the catalyst for his inferiority complex.

he is also remembering (and experiencing in his delusions) the sequence of events that happened during middle school: meet his real dad and committing patricide, learning that jake is gapryongs son, failing to receive guns approval twice, and becoming goos secret friend

(okay this is a side tangent but i love how this chapter was written to include all of that. the scene where samuel chokes alexander and sees his dad in him, the way he saw middle school jake and his own middle school self after re-realizing that jake is gaps son, the way he keeps on quoting people to show how much those events still affect him. its all written so gut wrenchingly well. i love the mental anguish)

he is effectively feeling his worst throughout this entire fight, and his face spells it outright for us

the second picture is samuels reaction to jake grabbing his collar after he ‘sentences him to death’ and lands a bunch of hits on him in tandem. this is probably looking waaaay too deep into it (but so is this entire post ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) however it almost like samuel is being reminded of his perceived inferiority simply by being stopped by jake. even though he cant be gapryongs son, he can still be stronger than him, right? right? jake continually disprove this and no matter how strong samuel gets, jake always seems to come out on top regardless.

in the third picture samuel is stepping away from his frenzied insanity (and the terrible, terrifying facial expressions that he makes because of it) to quietly question why it is that the universe has put jake in front of him to make him feel awful all over again, with a similar neutral face that displays undertones of distress and misery

and here he says it directly! jake shows up and makes samuel feel pathetic no matter what happens and its just … so perfect how his solemn face reflects how utterly defeated he is by that feeling

the way he is stepping on jake here, quite literally on top of him, yet he still feels lesser to him. he can beat jake up all he wants while smiling but at the end of it? he is still left with a burning feeling of inferiority that never gets resolved. and he can only wonder why that is

the frustration from not being able to figure it out overwhelms him, and thus causes the sudden change of his expression to a serious one. this is the issue that plagues his entire character and so it is only fitting that he reserve a special look for it; one of somber neutrality as the only way he can express his feelings of defeat and inadequacy

-> stylistic analysis

so all of that covered the context which surrounds that facial expression and the psychological aspects of it. while that serves to make the expression impactful as the culmination of all of those factors, the way that his face is artistically depicted also plays into its effect

i mentioned the look in his eyes before when discussing the first image, so lets just build onto that point of a crazed ache in his eyes by explaining why it evokes that feeling. his irises are small and much of the white of his eyes are showing, which is a stylistic choice that usually signals to us that a characters mental health has plummeted

his eyes are also shown to look like that in his other frenzied faces, but the contrast of his crazed eyes with the rest of his emotionless features distinguishes it well

and the second artistic choice i would like to point out is the use of lighting and shadows to depict his face to the audience

shadows are a very useful tool for artists to convey emotion on seemingly neutral or indifferent expressions as a little signal for the reader that the character is seriously ticked off but attempt to not show it

in all of the images, the light source seems to behind his head and leaves his face in the shadows. this lighting conveys a sense of seriousness along with undertones of horror. his somber expression is incredibly unsettling in contrast to all of the emotional turmoil he is feeling, and the use of shadows excels at giving us this visual cue

and its very interesting how the lighting stays consistent whenever he makes a face, signaling a certain emotion (of disdain? of grim comtemplation?? something along those lines i think) each time

final thoughts

well, my first final thought is that i wrote too much about this and somehow managed to overanalyze three panels into a little mess of angsty mush but it was sure fun :)

but secondly, i love how ptj does facial expressions, of course samuels faces in particular (this whole post is about him after all) since he is always so incredibly expressive. i love unhinged samuel, i love his ‘actively in mental decline’ faces. so freaky, so awesome ^_^

third and lastly, the parallels for samuel throughout the story are so, so interesting. i had to resist multiple tangents that go waaay beyond the scope of this post while writing it because of the sheer amount of stuff i found out i wanted to write about. so i will likely be writing more about that stuff in the future :p

thanks for reading !!!

#☆#lookism #long post #analysis #psychoanalyzing samuel seo is my favorite pastime #it never gets old #theres simply too much going on in his deranged little brain to address at once #or at least to address within a reasonable amount of words #ha #haha #hahahahaha #samuel seo #seo seongeun

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traitorca · 1 year ago

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My Iron Lung - The Walking Dead

Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader: 1

Masterlist

Disoriented.

Disoriented was the only word that could be used to explain that agonizing plane trip to Georgia, and in following, the extensive drive to Kings County. Your childhood home, the one in which you shared with your older brother, Rick, the same man who was shot in a police chase and left in a comatose state in the hospital.

When you got the call, it was late that evening, having just clocked out of work early to get some very needed shut eye. You hadn’t slept in days, being called to the office to investigate a newly reported bacteria in one of the patients donated for study.

You were walking to your car, the bastard sitting alone in an empty hospital lot. You had stayed late tonight, being the last to finalize a recent study.

“Hey-! Lori, just the girl I was missing.” You cheered, exhaustion lacing your tone as you opened your car door. “What’s up?”

There was no response, just heavy breathing, an unfocused mind on the other side of the phone. You could tell something was very wrong.

“Lo?” Your voice came out more raw than intended, worry now flooding your mind. You knew of your brother’s marital issues. Christ, he’d call you in distress, day by day about the countless nonsense they chose to argue about. “Lo? Did you guys fight-? Hey, you’re okay right?” You knew Rick wasn’t aggressive, never in your life could you imagine he’d get violent, not with Lori. He treated that woman as if she was fragile, like he was afraid to speak his mind. That’s what pissed her off so much, you knew that. “Just- breathe! Hey, it’s okay-“

“No-“ Lori’s voice croaked out, pained, broken whimpers following as she failed to keep her composure.

“Oh, sweetheart.” You frowned, adjusting your position in your front seat. The doors were locked, key resting in the cars ignition. “Really- it’s going to be okay-“

“Rick’s been shot-!”

You fell silent, jaw slacking as your eyes nearly widened out of their sockets. Your lips quivered, small cracks of sound escaping your throat before you cleared it. “..he’s dead?”

It was more of a statement than a question. You didn’t want to know the answer, but at the same time, you needed it.

“..No- no, not yet. He’s- he’s in the hospital right now- he’s in a coma they said.” She was afraid to answer, voice shaking as if she couldn’t believe it herself. This poor woman.

Carl. Oh, poor Carl.

“I’m coming.”

“Oh-“ Lori sounded relieved, her breath releasing as if she had been holding it in. “Oh- but I don’t want you to get in trouble with your job-“

“That’s my brother, Lori.” You whisper “and you’re my family. You need me more than they do.” Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry. He was still alive- you could make it to see him.

“Oh god-“ she started to cry, her voice breaking under the pressure, long ugly sobs releasing into the phone.

“I’m coming, Lo. I promise.”

Working as an epidemiologist was plenty difficult, but being across seas was even harder. You and your brother shared many values, one of them being family oriented. You loved your family. Your sister in law, your nephew, your parents, but your brother was the closest person you ever had to a best friend. Seeing as you grew up quite sheltered under the protection of your older brother and his best friend, Shane, you never found the need to venture outside that circle.

That was until you all grew up, and they chose their professions, and you chose yours.

“Remember when we were little and I stole your toy truck?” You whispered, firm hand gripping his own. Rick looked like every other body you had seen in your line of work. But he wasn’t like them.

That seems like a insensitive thing to say- as if those bodies weren’t people too, once alive- laughing, crying- breathing people. (ironic considering what you’re reading huh? guess we’re all just bodies in the grand scheme of things.) but the difference was- Rick wasn’t dead. He was in an induced comatose state, hooked up to several ivs, machines clicking and beeping as they worked to keep him stabilized. It sounded like your new life, the sounds you had grown so accustomed to- now surrounding the memories of a life you once lived.

They had gone into surgery before you had even arrived, bullet wounds dressed in thick, white bandages. You wouldn’t label yourself as a paranoid individual, but you wouldn’t lie when you said you checked them at least once or twice since you had been there. They had to force you out by the time visitation hours closed- you begged, attempting to use your badge, your rank as an individual, to stay with him in the hospital. Your brother had always been a protector- but seeing him now, you felt as if it was your time to return the favor. Alas, most people in the United States who worked in healthcare were jackasses, so they were the least bit lenient, and you were sent home.

Shane had temporarily moved in with Lori and Carl, your sister in-law and nephew almost dependent on him as Rick slipped into his unresponsive state. You didn’t blame her for needing the extra help, that’s why you had flown all the way from the UK to see her.

Now, you would say your relationship with Shane was strained- you two definitely got along FAIRLY well in your youth- but let’s just say, his aggravating ass could’ve been an attributing factor to your occupation being across the ocean. So seeing him now- well, you wished it'd be under better circumstances- this didn’t really give you the chance to be an ass towards him.

“Hey, Aunt Y/N-“ Carl started.

“Yeah babe?”

“What’s it like? In Europe?” He came to sit next to you, the couch barely shifting underneath his weight.

“It’s not as hot as this, I can tell you that. Jesus Christ, I don’t know how you put up with it. So glad I left-“

He giggled at that, head leaning down upon your shoulder. You smiled. You had never given a thought to having kids- hell, you never really dwelled on relationships. High School was a mess, leaving you with an untasteful look into what future relationships could hold for you- highschool sweethearts were hard to come by, Lori and Rick being an exception, but even now you could attest that there was nothing “sweet” about them. They had a rocky relationship, as much as you’d like to say you didn’t blame either of them for their quarrels, Lori left you often surprised at what problem she had conjured up against your brother. Nevertheless, your brother raised you right, and you knew she meant well. For the most part.

“It’s not that bad! We have ice cream-“

“Oooh yes, Ice Cream.” Shane joined in, walking over to the couch with a mug in his hand. Coffee sounded so good right now. “Y/N, I didn’t get to welcome you back properly- so, I hope this will suffice. You’ve been real busy with Rick- so. Relax a bit.”

You take the mug almost immediately, eyelids slightly lowering as you brought it near to your face. You sipped from it, body immediately encased in a foreign warmth. You couldn’t imagine a world without coffee. (Woo child, get ready too.) “Relaxing would be wonderful, Shane. If only that was possible.”

He laughed, save his questionable sense of humor, as his hands went to mess with the remote control to the tv.

“Can I have some coffee-?” Carl curiously asked, eyes wide as he took in the glorious mug cemented in your hands. He half expected you to hiss, like a vampire revealed in the light- but you merely smiled, hands lowering the mug to his lips.

“Careful Carl, it’s hot.” You giggled. He honestly felt more like a brother than a nephew, reminding you of Rick when he was younger. It was uncanny.

He took one sip and recoiled- cheeks puffing out as heat swelled to his face. “Gross-! It tastes burnt!”

“Yeah, because there’s no sugar in it, idiot.” You responded, hand going to mess with his hair. He groaned in response, body sinking into the couch to avoid your hand. Despite the noise, Shane seemed rather distracted by what was on the tv, driving your attention away from giving Carl the biggest noogie of his life.

‘UK GOES UNDER GROWING PANDEMIC, MARTIAL LAW ACTIVE’ in big bold letters. A news lady giving a report, videos and photos of strange, sickly people. What a time to come over to the states, am I right? What the hell did you miss? Surely this couldn’t be related to the patient you had seen a week ago- something couldn’t spread this fast. Not normally, you’d get a sign first- a warning.

Was that patient your warning? Had you left them unattended to see your brother- was this your fault?

“Well shit, you know anything about that?” Shane pointed the remote at the tv, drawing his hand back down to the side of the couch. You jumped, almost as if he had read your thoughts. “Lori, you hearin’ this?” He called to her, distracting her from her frazzled, grieving state in the other room.

“What?” Now she had another thing to worry about- great, thanks Shane. “What the hell is that?”

You just stared, eyes narrowed, struggling to fully understand the concept placed in front of you. Videos of people biting- no, eating other people. It was something out of the horror games you’d used to play- Silent Hill level shit. “I didn’t hear about any of this.” You whispered, eyes trailing down to Carl, who seemed equally perplexed as his mother. She looked so lost.

“I’m sure it’ll be taken care of- Martial Law is a big deal.” The only thing you could muster, eyes meeting Lori’s. She looks grateful for your attempt, but it did nothing to calm the panic behind her eyes.

And as if the good lord was smiling down on you, he decided to prove you wrong. One more fucking time.

Which brings you to now, things stuffed in a car as you waited on Shane to come back with your brother. You were semi-confident- (haha, right)- in your abilities, as a scientist and a doctor, that you could take care of your brother in his state while you got the FUCK out of Kings County and to Atlanta. The pandemic- newly named the Apocalypse, was the fuel of everyone’s Halloween, Michael Jackson: Thriller inspired nightmare. Zombies everywhere, but they weren’t dancing- no, they were just- doing.. zombie things. I guess.

That’s making light of a situation that was not fucking funny. It actually, to your dismay, was as dry and dark as Shane’s humor.

Carl and Lori laid in the back seat of the car, huddled away from the windows as you sat in the driver's seat. Stressed was an understatement, you were scared shitless. Waiting for your brother and his best friend to come out of those hospital doors, government troops rushing in and out of them at the same time- guns, gunshots, sirens- those dead people walking the streets, steering for any sound, anything that moves.

“Shiiit, come on Shane- come on-“ you were gripping the steering wheel, leather squeaking as you strangled it, nails nearly folding in on themselves as you pressed. “Oh shit-“ you watched as a gun was shot by an army soldier, a bullet fatally landing in a corpse's head, its body dropping afterward. Blood flew everywhere, your eyes growing heavy as you wished to close them- close them and wake up only to find that this was a dream.

You know that before this, you had wished your brothers accident was a dream- a stupid, fucked dream, but this was so much worse- and the candle on top? it might’ve just been your fault.

But to your experience, the Grimes family had a strange way of coming to church, and if being the subject of every plague was your way of repenting, God was giving you no chance to miss it this time.

Which, must've been why he had sent Shane back out of that building without your brother over his shoulder.

taglist 🏷️: @poubxlle

#the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #daryl dixon x grimes reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #twd x reader #twd #Rick grimes #Shane Walsh #daryl dixon x you #grimes reader #carl grimes #lori grimes

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makethatelevenrings · 2 years ago

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Hear me out… “can we go home?” Prompt as a part 2 to “did I do good?”

this got long and i applied to jobs and had an identity crisis in the middle of writing it, hope u enjoy LMAO

TW: discussions of the explosion from "did I do good?" and medical talk wheeeee

You were growing tired of the hospital.

The pain meds warded off the sharp bite of pain everytime you moved, but they also kept your head in a continual fuzzy state. Sleep released its hold on you for only an hour or so before another dose of medicine sent you back under the veil of dreams.

Whenever you were awake, you found one or more of your children propped up in a chair in the corner of the room. Dick would be furiously jabbing his knitting needles into the air as a new project materialized between his fingers. Cass joined him occasionally, but sometimes she scooted her chair closer to your side, her slim fingers encased around yours, and watched whatever show played on the television. You were partial to Animal Planet so that meant she sat through hours of shark week and River Monsters.

Jason read, of course, sometimes silently and sometimes, when it was just him and you, he read aloud. His soft baritone voice was a comfort over the occasional beeps and shrieks of alarms out in the hall. Tim made sure to come by at the same time everyday so the two of you could watch Jeopardy and then Real Housewives. Although you were usually high off your ass because of the pain meds, you made sure to let him know what a fucking liar Erika Jayne was.

Stephanie, your little demonic angel, propped herself up in the chair next to your bed and played Sims, the sound of her laptop a steady thrum that helped put you to sleep. Your own personal white noise machine. Damian drew in his sketchbook, quiet as always, but he made sure to bring it to you during your moments of lucidity so you could see his art. Duke, however, was the hardest to pry away from your bedside. You understood his hesitation at leaving another parent at a medical center. So you didn’t say anything if you woke up to find him seated next to you, one of your hands in his, as he muddled over another crossword puzzle.

Alfred came by numerous times everyday. He brought treats for the nurses, creature comforts from home for you, and made sure that the children didn’t stay too long. You insisted that they lived their lives outside of the hospital, even their night jobs. Alfred checked over what foods you were receiving from the dining services, humming and marking down nutritional values and if you were getting enough calories. He always plied you with cookies every time he visited and ensured you were eating enough protein to help your wound heal faster. The vase of golden sunflowers next to your bed were always fresh and replenished so you suspected Alfred ensured that they were always replaced when they started to wilt.

But one person didn’t show.

You tried to not dwell on the fact that Bruce never once made an appearance. Even Clark and Diana had dropped by with flowers and well wishes. But your husband remained his usual disappearing act. You didn’t understand why and frankly, you didn’t care. For years you tried to remind Bruce that he wasn’t always Batman. He was a father and husband and friend, both inside and outside of the suit, yet it felt like as time went further, he forgot more of who he was.

It was fine. You had Alfred and your kids. Their love made you wish you could wrap your arms around them, but these damn IVs wouldn’t let you. You knew they were just as disappointed in Bruce as you were, but nothing anyone said would change things.

Until you turned on the news one night and saw the headlines that the perpetrators of the explosion at the Wayne Gala had been caught and the entire organization eradicated. The group had been targeting the Wayne family, reporters said, and they blamed you for the unemployment rate and food insecurity in the city. Well, hell, your family had been working to eradicate the wage gap and food deserts for years, but if anyone was to get hurt, you were glad it was you.

Three broken ribs, a punctured liver, internal bleeding, a concussion, and your body one giant bruise meant that your kids were safe. You would place yourself between them and the blast every single time.

The news cameras zoomed in on the bodies that were slumped against the front of the police headquarters. Faces bloodied and raw, the men stared back at the camera with haunted eyes and your breathing hitched just slightly when you recognized the mark carved into one man’s forehead.

A bat.

“Mrs. Wayne?” Geraldine, one of the day shift nurses, called from the door to your room. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you replied. “I just saw the news.”

The kindly older woman bustled in with one of the new nurses on her heels. The two women had been working three nights a week for the time you had been on the floor and you appreciated their steady, comforting nature. They had both been a little thrown when the Waynes of Gotham showed up on their floor but once you asked Geraldine to treat you like a normal person, she warmed up to you like a grandmother.

“How ya feelin’, sweets?” she asked. Every few hours they checked your vitals and incision spots to ensure that you were healing well and no infection was growing.

“Listen, I love you ladies. But if I have to stay here any longer, I might snap.”

They laughed at your comment and Farah, the fledgling nurse who followed Geraldine like a baby goose after its mama, focused on checking your incisions while Geraldine marked down your vitals.

“You’re so close to being free,” Geraldine promised. “Dr. Huerta will come by later today to check everything and hopefully, you’ll be out in a day or two.”

“Am I the last one to be discharged?” While you were the most seriously injured due to your proximity to the blast, a few people were also brought into Gotham General with varying injuries.

“Yep,” Farah hummed. “They’re all home and Mr. Wayne said he would pay for their bills.”

That made you pause. Farah’s head raised the second the words came out of her mouth and Geraldine turned sharply in her direction. Farah grimaced and sighed. “Sorry, I know he told us not to say anything.”

Your lips parted in shock and you glanced between the two women. “He called the hospital?”

Geraldine sighed and approached your bed. She reached out and clasped your hand between hers and gave you a kind smile.

“He’s been here everyday, sweets. Only leaves at night before he’s back in the morning. He just sits in the waiting room, looking like death warmed over. I keep tellin’ him that he should at least come talk to you, but he refuses unless he knows you’re asleep. Who do you think keeps bringing those flowers?”

“I don’t understand.” Your brow furrowed. “Why the fuck is he here if he won’t even talk to me? Why has no one told me?”

Geraldine pursed her lips and then she patted your hands. “Sometimes, men are stupid.”

That elicited a snort from Farah but Geraldine wasn’t finished. “I think, sweets, that he blames himself and he can’t bring himself to see you when you’re awake because he’s terrified that you’ll hate him.”

You glanced between the two women and narrowed your eyes. “What else has he done?”

They launched into a list of things. Your favorite blanket that you kept in the study at home was draped across your legs because of Bruce, the nurses were now being paid more because of his meeting with the hospital executives (and subsequent buyout of the Gotham General system so that meant more paperwork for you to deal with when you got out), and many other things. Bruce, silent as he was, operated without a word to you because he was so fucking scared that you hated him.

“Is he out there? Right now?” you asked once they trailed off.

“Yeah,” Farah sighed. “The more coffee he drinks from the cafeteria, the more I think we’re going to have to admit him soon for cardiac arrest.”

“Bring my husband in, please. If he fights you on it, tell him to stop being such a fucking coward.”

Geraldine let out a delighted laugh and practically skipped out of the room, clearly excited to give Bruce Wayne a run for his money. Farah waited patiently at your bedside and you were grateful that she didn’t abandon you right now.

Light footsteps grew closer to the door and you heard the soft creak of the hinges until he was standing before you. His hair was shaggy and unkempt and a five o’clock shadow clung to his jaw. Bruce was still in his usual daytime uniform of slacks and a button down, but the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his entire ensemble was wrinkled.

“Thank you,” you said to the nurses. They vacated the room quickly, leaving you two just staring at each other. Bruce cleared his throat and glanced towards the door as if he was preparing to leave, but you pointed your finger at him and he froze midstep.

“Sit your ass down, Wayne,” you ordered. He started towards the chairs in the corner but you let out a disapproving noise and he turned to where you were pointing. Bruce sighed and trudged over to the hospital bed you were lying in. His eyes searched your face for any sign of anger or discomfort as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Bruce Thomas Wayne,” you began. “You stupid man.”

Your hand curled around his and you brought it to your lips, brushing a kiss against his palm. He sucked in a tight breath and you enclosed his fingers around your love.

“I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you think.”

“I should have stopped them sooner. I should have never let this happen to you. I-”

You smoothed a hand down his forearm. “You didn’t let anything happen to me. It happened because people wanted to hurt me. You can’t stop them from their thoughts or their anger, Bruce. You can’t change the way people feel. You can only do as much as you can and you and I both know that.”

He shut his eyes and sighed. Bags cradled his eyes, shadowing the bright blue pupils you woke up to every morning. The lines on his face deepened and he looked as if he aged ten years since you last saw him.

“How can you stand to be near me?” he croaked out. You reached up and tucked some of his dark hair out of his face before cradling his jaw.

“Because I like because, Bruce, and I love despite. I love you despite how many times you make me want to tear my hair out. I love you despite your self-flagellation tendencies. I love you despite the fact that there is something deeply psychologically wrong with you.” He chuckled at your teasing remark and leaned into your touch.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed against the soft skin of your wrist.

“I know you are,” you assured him. “But you’re still going to grovel so damn much.”

“Whatever you wish for, you will get.”

You considered his words for a moment and hummed to yourself. “You have to take Damian to the art museum and cannot look at your phone once.”

“Easy.” He ghosted his lips against your wrist and you shivered at the soft touch.

“Okay. How about letting Stephanie drive the car next time?”

He grimaced, obviously knowing you meant the Batmobile and thinking about the blonde’s tendency to take wide turns. “Fine.” He kissed your brow, right over some stitches as if he could heal them with just a tender touch.

“You have to shake hands with Hal Jordan and tell him he’s doing a good job.”

“You’re a fucking menace.” Bruce dipped his head down to kiss you sweetly, but you were grinning too much to let it last.

“Can we go home now?” you whispered against his lips. “I just want to be in bed with you. I’m sick of the food here.”

He cradled your head against his chin and sighed, his breath washing across your skin. Bruce was so careful with you as to not aggravate any of your injuries. For as idiotic as he could be in the emotions department, he knew exactly what to do to comfort you physically.

“Soon, my love. And I will wait on you hand and foot. I’ll never let anything happen to you again. Ever. I swear.”

“I know.” But you didn’t take his promise to heart. Not in your line of work. He could guarantee that the sun would rise in the morning and set in the evening, but no one could promise that the scythe of death wouldn’t come calling any minute.

But you would let him hold you and make promises. It would make him feel better and that, in and of itself, was a gift.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman x reader #batman imagine #bruce wayne #honey's 3k celebration

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pixelbytesquad · 6 months ago

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So, yesterday I posted some lore on The Unity AU, I think it's time I finally talk in detail about Mirage. She's been mentioned recently.

Here she is (alongside Unity Wilda)

Now, for some information.

CW: Mentions of death

As stated, bakugans are classes as monsters. There's also no Vestroia, so bakugans in the Unity AU live on all 4 planets/universes. [Earth, Vestal, Neathia and Gundalia].

For a long while, Vestals and Bakugans lived in harmony, until the royal family decided that must take an end, so they started to strain the relation between them. Bakugans were chased out of the cities, sometimes even hunted. Their once friends turning on them set a fear on the bakugans on Vestal that set in for generations (so in short, vestal Bakugans are more on the cowardly side due to that).

With the Vestal overpopulation, the royal family decided that it's time to expand, which means that they'll have to invade the homes of bakugans and take over.

Bakugans are captured, experimented on, used in fights, or even killed. The current generations of Vestals are lead to believe that bakugans are mindless beings that are ready to fight and kill Vestals, so that's why all the experiments and organized bakugan fights are happening.

For some info on the Fermins in this AU. Clay, as usual, is the royal scientist, always trying to please King Zenoheld IV. He has two kids. Keith, a bakugan battler champion that goes under the stage name of Spectra Phantom. The second, younger kid being Mirabelle ("Bell" for short), she's Clay's lab assistant.

Bell would help Clay in his sick experiments... until one day, where she would encounter a bakugan who seemed, scared- she tried to approach him, but Clay would intervene and the bakugan would leave. Bell however, would try to re encounter said bakugan. Over time, the two would become friends. Most importantly, Bell would learn the truth behind bakugans. She would also learn more about how Vestals are meant to function, how they're more on the "magic" side. She would eventually try to perform magic on her own, which would lead to her 'core' getting 'encored'. With all that happening, she would try to talk to her father and brother about this, but they would not listen to her or stop the experiments or fights... so, she decides that it's time to take matters into her own hands, but she can't do this as well, "Bell". She's tied to the royal scientist and the brawler champion... so her and Wilda form a plan.

She would eventually tell her brother and father to meet her at a certain spot, only her brother would come. She would try to ask him one more time to stop with the fights and all that, but of course, he'd refuse. She would use an ability to make the ground beneath her to just, give up. Wilda, being bellow, would catch her, but Keith would believe the worst just happened... he's shocked to see what just happened- he just watched his sister fall down to what he assumed her own death. The authorities couldn't find her down bellow.

Meanwhile, "Bell" realizes that she's going to need a new identity. Almost everyone just called her "Bell" for short, but when she told Wilda her full name for the first time, he called her "Mira", which she started to grow to liking... but it couldn't be short for "Mirabelle", so, in a quick moment... she got it. She'll be going by Mirage.

Girl would dye her hair, also trying to stylize it differently, get some different attire, and will wear a vizor to help her hide her identity better.

Her, alongside Wilda, will try to stop the Royal family's attempts to hurt the bakugans further. Try to stop them from chasing bakugans way from their homes, try to break into bakugan 'research' facilities and freeing the bakugans in there, all that stuff. She'll end up teaming up with 2 vestals and 2 bakugans later down the line. Not only that, but once one of her team mates tries to contact help from some other place, a bunch of humans and their bakugan friends would come in to help them.

... HOO BOOOY- whole backstory be upon ye- but yeah-

Ngl I do have a lot of fun with Mirage over here- basically in this AU Clay has both kids dye their hair and get a new identity.

Now for some silly fun facts (about her and others):

Mirage is a bit on the "unhinged" side. From a chill/polite lil kid to pretty much a warrior trying to help the bakugans in her world.

Of course, since she's like this, Unity Baron and Unity Ace had to be a bit tweaked to balance her out.

Unity Baron is 24, he's a bit more on the serious side.

Unity Ace is 18, he's a bit more chill and open to new people. Unlike his canon counterpart he's okay with the humans when they come (he's the one who send the help message on the Bakugan forums)

Mirage is also 18.

In a way, the script is flipped since Unity Spectra's the one to worry about his sister, leading him to make some bad moves/decisions during the story.

Unity Bakugans don't have a marble form, but I'd imagine if they'd travel to any other bakugan universe that works like the canon one, they'd get turned into marbles.

They'd also be way more huge than they are in the unity AU.

Unity Wilda is more or less Mirage's adoptive dad.

Unity Volt and Unity Lync would defect from the Vexos. Mirage would have a hard time accepting that they're part of the resistance and complains about their role in the whole Vexos/Royal family plans, until Unity Baron tries to remind her that she herself was tangled in said plans... needless to say she isn't that pleased to get reminded of that, so she tries to accept the two.

Also, did I mention that Baron HEAVILY dislikes the royal scientist and his kids? Though granted once he learns Mirage's true identity he gives her a chance since he sees that she really wants to do better.

Zenoheld won't really be part of the story, as he's... about to get veeery sick during the story, making Hydron in charge of the operation and the Vexos.

The truth is, Hydron goes behind his father's back and taps into magic. He's also gonna use it to drain energy from him until he gets sick enough so he won't be able to properly rule anymore.

I was originally suggested that Mirage's original name should had been "Petra", which I liked but ngl, Spectra- I recently stumbled upon the name "Mirabelle" and decided I could go for that, and then went with the "Bell" nickname for her past life before she renames herself to "Mirage".

Also, her and Mire are (at the moment) the only AU characters that have slight name changes.

As usual, if you have any questions, feel free to ask.

#bakugan #alternate universe #bakugan au #mira fermin #bakugan: Unity AU

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lokiswhqre · 2 months ago

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//Part of the Band//

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: mentions of drugs and alcohol, substance abuse, teenage dirtbag matty and friends, awful writing, swearing, and wild descriptions

𝒂/𝒏: i’m not sure if im catching matty the way i want to but i’ll keep writing, ive been writing this on wattpad w my own oc so sorry if u see glimpses of descriptions that don’t pertain to you i try to keep it as gender neutral as i can. i want to turn this into a fic but idkk should i ??

.𐦟

𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗧𝗬 knew he was in for it. she had completely stopped talking to him. in the haze of smoke and loud music, he couldn't hear her. she was next to him why couldn't he. the room was darken, compliments to the host for setting the mood yet in a state of panic all matty could do was feel around in his haste. strung out, wasted and high out of his mind. a combination that wasn't too keen on moving but he managed to bring himself to his feet. his body swayed as he fumbled for the light switch on the other side of the room. he wasn't sure how he'd got here.

ross said something about a party late night after a gig. between laughs and spray cans in a back alley matty finally allowed himself to agree, following the trio through the lonely streets of london. from the parking lot to the bouncing scenery, he wasn't sure when he had time to shoot up in the back room. a girl, pretty features, round face, doe eyes and a walk that could kill asked him if he had anymore.

"This is my first time.." she muttered, with the needle already too far inside to retreat and call everything off. fuck. he wanted to hold his head and slam it into the nearest wall at the same time.

he was sure she was dead. nothing had prepared him for the scene when he finally switched the lights on. dark red locks cascaded past her shoulders, straightened but he knew that wasn't her natural state. her eyes were closed, body limp, mouth agape. although she looked peaceful, and so ethereal he couldn't stare for long. he started with a small tap to her cheek, shaking her slightly as his heart raced. he considered calling for help but with laws nowadays he'd get charged too. he didn't know this girl, he didn't know if she had family or a job; a life outside of whatever brought her to him.

yet something in his mind told him to save her. he's careful as he pulls her body up, she slurring, a smile too bright on her face as he tries to stumble them to the nearest bathroom.

the first words she had spoken after the ordeal of even getting them into the bathroom, wasn't something he really wanted to hear in that moment. he was wet, shaking her limp body as she still wore the same smile on her face. if he wasn't so gone right now he might've thought she was a masterpiece in that moment. drenched, out of her mind and slurring things that didn't make sense. he couldn't wake her up and she was getting cold a little too quick for his liking.

"Come on.. Come on, Wake up! You gotta get up!" he shouts, shaking her again as he held her under the water. water littered the floor as they wrestled for a moment under the shower stream, red cups discarded on the floor, some girl was passed out under the sink. matty had to sober up quick he knew he looked crazed trying to shake the girl awake. for a split second he brushed his hair behind his ears and huffs, putting her under the water one more time.

she trembles, coughing from the water that had gotten in her face. her eyes open, darting around the room in particular way that made the boy question if she was even on the verge of death. she sits in silence, letting her eyes fall on him. her makeup had ran down her face, black streaks of mascara, made her eyes shine in a way that was almost wrong for anyone to appreciate but he did. and he knew 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗶𝘁. it didn't take long for them to end up on the floor, his coat draped around her small frame. as he leaned against the bathroom door, shooing off anyone that dared to enter like some watch dog, he looked at her with a sense of guilt.

"Are you floating..?" she spoke slowly, as if the whole thing was just some lucid dream that she'd woken up from. now he was pissed, standing up and making his way over to her, minus stepping over whoever that was on the floor. "Are you joking? You could've died. Sobered me up way too fast for this party." he grumbled.

she scoffed, wrapping the coat, that was too wet to do her any justice, closer to her body. "I just wanted to have fun like the others.." she sighed, "All the models are doing coke and heroin. I just thought I'd try to fit in more.." she trailed off, grabbing a marker off the floor. matty watched as she opened the cap, with her teeth might he add, and drew the most grotesque looking dick he's ever seen on the girls cheek whom was too drunk to even feel it. it almost brought a smile to his face how carefree she seemed. but that couldn't distract him from the party atmosphere.

"Just be careful, you never know what you might try, unless you want to give it another go?" he teased, reaching for the door. she looked up at him silently, green met brown and matty felt his heart get tugged into a million pieces at once.

"Y/N..." she hummed, holding her hand out. he took it gently.

"Matty.." he replied, before he disappeared back into the flashing lights.

.𐦟

Y/N didn’t see him again until another autumn night, the air had grown crisp and hints of cinnamon lingered in it wake. her hair had been curled and her makeup had gotten smudged from the night. the only light that flickered was the cold fluorescent bulb of the bus stop. she took a seat, hugged her knees to her chest and waited for transportation. she was reeling from the night, her head spun with the mixture of alcohol and drugs but she still held it up the best she could.

music blaring, a group of teens around her age were approaching complete dirtbags she would call them if she was cool enough with them. she prepared herself her hand instinctively reaching for her purse, eyes so lidded she wasn’t sure how she’d make it out of this situation. But one of them caught her eye, one of them she knew in the midst of the crowd.

“MATTY” she shouted a little too loud for her liking it made her ears ring. the boy looked up, narrowing his eyes slightly at the girl before he grinned. “This is the one, the freaky girl from the party.” he says, gesturing to her. Y/N stood up on wobbly legs, waving to the group.

she wasn’t shy when it came to meeting others, but the way he introduced her made her rethink her choices that night. “Right on, well join us.. freaky girl,” a boy spoke up, way chirper then matty. she took a step forward, glancing at matty to see if it was okay but he was more worried about where the next bottle was coming from as he dug around in another kids bag for it. she felt her heart drop slightly at how dismissive he was.

“Glad you could join us,” ross hummed, holding out his hand. she took it gracefully and was pushed into the group of shouting teens. she stumbled along, holding onto ross the best she could as she glanced around. this part of london was notorious for its parties. a carefully crafted district that not even they weren’t allowed in yet somehow everyone knew matty. she wondered how someone so young could have so much influence. but then again she was also too drunk to care. more music, more drinking, a new drug, she wanted it all and these teens knew how to get it.

but even still the after party was always the best, it was like never coming down and she craved it more then her modeling job, more then getting home each night more then food. shit. did she eat that night she wasn’t sure. her body was too busy moving under the flashing lights and loud music, everything was spinning, and going; she wouldn’t allow herself to stop. she wasn’t sure when ross had let go of her hand, maybe when she’d entered the third club with them, because she was dancing alone suddenly. one hand in her hair the other held a red cup.

“It’s time for you to go home,” a man, he must’ve been watching her for a while now to finally approach her, grabbed her hips. “Noo, don’t make me go home.” she giggled, slipping her arms around his neck.

she felt alive and uneasy all the same, she didn’t know him yet she didn’t care to. she wanted to dance and she didn’t mind if it was with someone. she turned, letting her hands run up her thighs as she moved her hips against his. the music was too good and she was just buzzed enough to still have some coordination. her eyes searched the crowd for the black haired boy, until they finally fell on matty. and she almost froze as he eyed her, he had found refuge on one of the walls of the club.

his head tilted back, cup to his mouth but she saw it. fuck she practically felt his gaze burning into her little body. there it was the attention she’d been craving all night, her body started to move even more sultry against the man. in the back of her mind she wanted it to be him. she begged it to be him. as she let the music guide her, the smell of vodka hit her and she knew she’d never be the same. she’d always see matty this way. as their eyes connected again, he scoffed as it was ross who pulled her away. a strong grip on her arm and face of disbelief, she felt her body finally coming down from whatever high matty gave her. even as he pulled her through the crowd she looked back at the wall and of course the fucker was nowhere to be found.

#matty x you #matty x reader #matty the 1975 #matty healy #the 1975 #part of the band

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the-bjd-community-confess · 10 months ago

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I joined the hobby with my sister in early 2003. We both got our first dolls at the same time but I hated my doll (she arrived blank) and I decided to not join the hobby because I hated the doll so much. My sister stayed active, but passed away in 2016, in which I got my first doll back when they were passing the inheritance and arranging everything. That was my reintroduction into the doll hobby, to connect with my sister in a way.

Enjoyed making friends with people in the community, generally found the community peaceful and positive. I liked playing and taking pictures of my dolls and was interested in trying OC and the biographies people posted because it looked fun.

in 2022 the rest of my family passed away in a car crash. Its been difficult for me to accept this and I keep going into states of "if this" or "if that", and I tried to connect to the hobby but I couldnt escape reality. It didnt help that my fathers side of the family were relentlessly trying to put a conservatorship on me, have me put in a mental hospital and seize control of me, my assets and finances forcing me to go to a psychiatrist and take medication just so I can have freedom and avoid them.

I decide to try and cheer myself by going to a doll event on holiday and get a chance on a doll that is coveted by a niche in the community, as in limited to a few dolls a year that you can only get in person in a certain location on certain dates by a lottery. This is a doll Ive been obsessed with getting, having won two YJA auctions for her (you arent supposed to buy them secondhand or sell them), only to have the sellers always refund the proxy. I won this doll, on my first lottery entry and I feel nothing.

I met two people and one was extremely kind, and the other that I thought I had a connection with was just disappointing to meet in person. Gossiping about people the whole time, including the person that was also there with us, always talking about why they were better than so and so because they did x. Talked about entering the lottery many times but always losing and not to get my hopes up because they dont pick nonresident foreigners. She also suggested I bring in someone to increase my chances, but I said I wanted to play fair and she shocked me when she said good answer; like it was a trick suggestion or she was waiting for an aha moment.

The pure anger on her face when I was called the winner, and then the comment about them picking the lottery winner like I was supposed to feel bad that I was picked instead of randomly chosen was weird to me. I just brushed it off as me being paranoid. Its not jealousy of the doll, but I think anger that they picked someone she saw as unworthy (me). She even called me a whale, but I just ignored the comment because I know Im not even remotely chubby back then.

Then she said something about how maybe this was the universe giving me a present because my whole family passed away a few months ago (at that time). This was the first time I told someone in the hobby about my familys passing and I felt completely emptied? deflated? by the comment. They may have not meant it to be negative, but I felt repulsed. TBH, I havent even taken the doll out of the box since getting her because I keep remembering that comment made. They probably didnt mean much, but it stuck to me. I cant even look at the doll's box without feeling sick. I just remembered this because its been a year + and I saw someone being annoyed that a oneoff winner didnt post an opening even though its been a few months, and now I feel worse because its been a year of her in the box.I was just waiting until I felt happy again so I can at least have the box opening be special. I dont know what to do because that comment; the universe giving me a doll in return of my whole family dying? I cant disassociate it and I wish I never met that person because I feel like it has made the doll hobby unenjoyable to me, but I also know its unreasonable to think this way because Ive met so many that are so nice and kind. I think Im reading into the comment more than its worth. I honestly feel pathetic for letting it affect me this much.

Sorry for writing all of this. I just wanted to get it out of my chest so I can maybe get back to normal. My friends dont like listening to this, because Im a man and am supposed to be more mature, and I also dont like holding on to anger, and I dont usually do, but I feel angry and sad all the time, when I know I should be grateful because I have a lot of blessings. Some might know who I am, and I hope they dont take it as a sign of me needing help, and more of just me venting if they read all of this, that my disinterest in a lot of things isnt them, its just Im not back to normal and I want to be.

~Anonymous

Mod: I'm so sorry anon, you've been through so much. 💗

This person sounds insecure and jealous and imo you should dismiss everything they said to you, it was not coming from a good place. You deserve to have joy and happiness in your life.

#BJD #ABJD #BJD Confessions #Community Confessions #BJD Lottery

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builtbymachine · 1 year ago

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let me tell you guys a story. on may 6th of 2022, i decided to DM @tripthelightfandomtastic. it started of normal, me telling her how i loved her work and how i thought she seemed cool and i wanted to be friends. over the next month or so, it of course evolved into a bit of a flirtationship(horny on tumblr, yknow?). we moved from tumblr to texting and snapchatting. we talked pretty much daily. around june or july, we realized we both live im the same state(rare!) and we decided that maybe we should meet and see how things go.

move to september, max comes to visit me. it was the best weekend i had had in years. we hit it off indtantly. we spoke like we had been friends for years. we understood each others jokes, music tastes, memes, thoughts; i mean everything matched up. we were instantly best friends. after max went home, our friendship immediately soared. we spoke constantly, facetimed regularly, knew each others schedules all of it. we very quickly became each others safe space. as the months went by, everything kept getting better and better.

may 2023. we went to shaky knees together with some friends for my birthday. my friends loved her. they all had an instant connection too(they all met in december) that made me incredibly happy. that trip was the best trip of my life and i started to think, "oh fuck, maybe this is more than friendship to me" but i tried to leave it alone. shocker; i couldnt. i had brought it up to max before, but neither of us were ready for anything serious and i was okay with that. i was happy and thats what mattered.

june 2023. i realized i needed help. as happy as i felt, my brain wasnt happy. i needed to talk to a doctor. max not only encouraged me; but she was there to talk to me thru everything. i got on anti depressants(woohoo!) and she stuck by my side through all the weird trials of medication. she believed in me and encouraged me in my lowest moments. i was able to better myself because of her.

september(ish) 2023. i went through one of the toughest friendship breakups of my life. max heard everything i had to say and let me sit and cry for hours about it, making sure i was okay before hesding ti bed. she offered solutions and support. checked on me daily. made sure i was in a good headspace and did her overall best to cheer me up. i went to see max in her hometown and meet her family. i love them. we all got to hangout and just vibe and it was amazing

october 2023. acl. i got to see my all time favorite band with my favorite person. sobbing uncontrollably to Everlong, she held me while i was living the best moment of my life. i didnt want it with anyone else(except my mom). then, we had matching outfits for halloween!!!!! she met more of my friends in the midst of everything and of course, they all love her(how could they not). im pretty sure they like her more than me lol.

december 2023. we met up in austin this past weekend. when she left, i told her i was in love with her. yesterday; she told me she felt the same. i am the happiest ive been. thank you tumblr for bringing her to me.

heres to you, baby. i love you.

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misguidedasgardian · 6 months ago

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The Lifeaters (IV. 1)

IV. The Quidditch World Cup

MASTERLIST

Chapter Summary: You enjoy your summer alongside your family and friends

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: Cursing, magical objects, Mugglephobia, classism, charms and curses, MINORS DRINKING, underage drinking,peer pressure, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 4 k

Notes: This is getting good! muahaha I think

Regulus Black was your father

He was handsome, you thought, as you gazed upon the picture of him and your mom, both in school uniform, Slytherin obviously

Both smiled at the camera, and they were together, he was wearing his Quidditch jumper, he was a seeker, and to make matters strange, you actually had a picture of him, it was the year the Slytherin won the Quidditch cup undefeated.

You never knew it, you had a picture of your father since first year.

Now that you knew, your aunt had given you a little box of keepsakes, that was your mother’s, and had pictures of your father, and things of her, there was still a lot you didn’t know, but this was surely a start.

You watched the Firebolt your uncle, -so weird-, Sirius had given Cercille to give to you. You had it on its own stand on a desk in your room. So he was the one who gave one to Potter, who apparently was his godson. What a small world

You still couldn’t wrap your mind around the fact that your uncle, your father’s brother, had been convicted for murder and had an order to be killed on sight by dementors, but that is another thing entirely. Was he innocent? like he claimed? maybe, your aunt seemed to think so.

“Allez petite-fille, nous devons y aller”, called your grandfather, who had spent all summer with you, you wanted to go to France, and you did, but you came back early… there was a huge event that you were of course attending, because your grandfather was such a fan, a fanaticism that he had inherited onto you

The Quidditch world cup

Tickets to all the major French and English games, top seats, appearings alongside Cornelius Fudge, and the French Minister of Magic, the Malfoys by your side of course, even though, it was clear to you that your grandfather was not a fan

“I’m going!”, he hated it when you spoke english to him, but, you were in England

You grabbed your bag, you were so, so excited for it, but you still had too much going on to really be invested in it.

“My beautiful granddaughter”, your grandfather appeared through the door, “are you ready, ma petite-fille?”

“Oui”, you said simply. He placed his hand on your shoulder and guided you down the hall

He hasn't spoken with you about your parents at all, he knew that you knew now some of the story, but still, he pretended like you still didn’t know

And that was fine.

You think

Because you still weren’t ready to talk about it, and in this month that had been by, in which you went to Paris for a few weeks and then came back, you haven't talked to your aunt, you couldn’t find a single memento to do so. You even hoped to meet Sirius Black when you got to Paris, which know you believed it to be silly, he could never had lingered in your family state in Montmartre

And this was not the time either

She had told you that it was of complete secrecy that Sirius Black had been in your house, that he used the VERY illegal international floo network that you had. So you swore to keep it to yourself, and since Sirius Black hadn't been in your house, you didn’t yet know about your father.

Regulus Black

You sometimes caught yourself saying it out loud whe you were alone, like a little prayer

Sounded so foreign and yet, so natural to you.

You were a Black

You know little of the family, but now everything seemed to click into place, the Blacks were one of the sacred 28, one of the most prominent and powerful wizarding families in Britain, you were as good as Wizarding Royalty, how insane that was?

This made sense

Your aunt Narcissa was indeed your aunt, because you knew she was a Black before she married Lucius and became a Malfoy

She was your father’s cousin, apparently, and that meant you and Draco were cousins twice removed. That was insane

Did they know?

They probably did, that is why they kept so close to you, as you heard your aunt say to Sirius

Sirius, your uncle, did not like you to be so close to the Malfoys

But why? Who was coming back? and why was it safer for you to be near them? well, they are very powerful, so, that made sense too

But still… so many unanswered questions

The sun was barely shining in the horizon when you left your house, your grandfather had insisted, he wanted you to walk towards Malfoy manor, and from there, you were going to travel to the place you were going to stay for the Quidditch world cup

“It is a beautiful morning, isn’t it?”, it was true, it was a nice morning, although still a bit cold. You had used a simple spell to make your baggage small, and like that, you could take it in your pocket, your big trunk, and you started the walk

You looked at your grandfather, walking by your side, and your aunt on his right side. He was one of the most powerful and influential men in Wizarding France, and yet, he preferred to walk to his destination.

To you, he had always been a bit mysterious

But you knew his temple of steel, he could be terrifying to those who crossed him, but he had never been like that with you, he was kind and gentle, with his “petite fille”

But like he said, he was part of a dynasty, an important family and as such, he had expectations of you and your aunt as well, you were to behave properly, look pleasant at all times and specially, excel at your field, whatever that might be. You were free to choose your own path, but you were meant to be great at it.

Your aunt was exceptionally good at potions and contributed to the family business, your grandfather was a prominent man in politics and you, well, that is to be determined

“I heard that you became the youngest animagus, probably ever!”, he said, smiling pleasantly, to make conversations

“I think I did grandfather”, you say happily

“You make me so proud”, he said with a big smile

“Thank you grandfather”, you said with a shy smile

The walk was pleasant, it took you only 45 minutes to reach the Malfoy state, the guards felt strong as you crossed them and the huge house appeared before you

“Désagréable”, muttered your grandfather

He did not like the Malfoys at all

They were waiting for you, in the foyer, you greeted Draco warmly as he did you. You haven't seen him in a month and a half, but he seemed different, he had stopped putting gel on his hair, now having it styled, and he was now taller than you. And by his side… Matthew, his hair was longer, more unruly, dark chocolate curls, and his eyes seemed even more mischievous.

“Guillaume”, greeted Lucius, taking your attention. Matthew looked at your grandfather wide-eyed

“Lucius”, greeted your grandfather, but then he turned to Narcissa, grabbed her hand and kissed it, “Narcissa”, he said softly, you and your aunt shared funny looks, “young Draco, and… friend”, he said dismissively

“I’m glad you are both here”, Lucius said, greeting your aunt and you, “shall we?”

“Oui, s’il vous plaît”, muttered your grandpa, signaling for you, your aunt, and Narcissa to guide the group, opening the door for you.

“The rest will meet us there, in ten minutes”, he said, watching his clock, you walked out of the guards of the state, and then you saw, over a small hill, a birdhouse, it was an odd object. You shared complicit looks

Guillaume looked at his own watched, looked at you both and touched the birdhouse, as Narcissa, Lucius and Draco, in mere 10 second, you were transported through portkey to your destination

The first game was tomorrow, today, you were going to get installed in…

“Are we really staying there?”, you asked, excitedly, in front of you there was a huge castle, bigger than you had seen before

“Is not bigger than Malfoy Manor”, said Draco contemptuously, uncle Lucius nudged him on his chest with his walking stick

“Yes my love, for the world cup”, said your aunt. This year, the Quidditch world cup was in Dartmoor, in the coast of Devon, and for the occasion, uncle Lucius and a couple of his friends had decided to… rent… this huge castle, so you could stay there and then easily apparate to the Trilenium stadium to watch the games, you were in for a treat as you were going to watch the French games, the English, Irish and Welsh, and even the Bulgarian ones, because they were this year’s favorites for the cup.

It was more than a month, and you were going to spend it here.

Pansy and her parents, Daphne, her younger sister, and their parents, Matthew, well, you didn’t know if his handsome uncle was going to be there, and Theo and his father, Vince and Greg and their parents were a no show this time, maybe they didn’t enjoy Quidditch

You were barely exploring the first floor when the rest showed up, and it took you another ten minutes to finish with the greetings

It surprised you really, the Parkinsons and Greengrass didn’t seemed to be quite enthralled in the Cup itself, but it was a nice castle and it served as a good vacation

“There are only 8 rooms”, said Lucius

“The girls will share, and the boys”, said Narcissa, and everyone agreed, you had the biggest rooms in the last floor

It was uncomfortable, as Cercille was single, and Theo’s father, and Matthew’s uncle and your grandfather

But it was funny as Morfin and Tiberius were forced to share a room because of it

From one second to the next the castle was filled with life, everybody had brought their house elves and they were walking, cleaning everything and cooking for the small army you had gathered. You could tell that uncle Lucius was not in his element, and this was clearly for Draco’s and your benefit, and of course of your friends

You were indeed a bit spoiled, as your grandfather was pleased with the Quidditch cup, but not with the staying arrangements, but he did it for you, as did your Aunt Cercille

The rest of the wizards were camping near the stadium, and it seemed more fun, but you were not complaining

You were happy to share with your friends, even more so knowing that you could sneak into your aunt’s room anytime it became, “too much”

You could barely sleep out of excitement, and the very next morning, you were the first one up, and it was funny to you that your aunt and grandfather were there in the dining room as well

The first game was the one of France against Peru, and it was going to be epic

You woke up the entire house by chanting the French Quidditch song, already dressed in the team’s colors. It was hilarious, they were not as happy

They played at noon

And sharing the prime box with the prime minister of France himself did not deter you, your grandpapa and aunt to yell and scream and grab onto the golden railings and yell obscenities at the referee. it was hilarious

A good start to the Quidditch cup, the stadium was incredible, apparently it took a long time to build and it was all golden and huge, more beautiful than the French one, even though you were not going to let your grandpapa hear that.

You went back to the house with your heart beating strongly, France had qualified to the next step of the competition and even though it wasn’t the opening game it was quite a turn up.

Later, at night, it was the first English game and it was going to be amazing, so you were preparing for that. You still had face paint in your face and the French Quidditch jumper on, you took a wrong turn instead of going up the stairs you ended up walking down the wrong hallway

“Why are you still here? you were supposed to leave!”, you heard Matthew, he was talking to his uncle. So, as the curious person you were, you stopped and listen

“I have my own reasons to stay, just like you”, you heard him answer, his voice was smooth and silky.

“Why?”

“Maybe even similar”, the door opened and you were discovered, standing in the corridor, they both looked at you, but instead of looking angry, they just smirked

“Sorry”, you muttered, and walked away hastily, Matthew, as any, didn’t like his “guardian” to stay and look over him of course

The opening game was incredible! it was Bulgaria against England, and even though it wasn’t good for the guests, it was one of the most incredible games you had ever seen.

You were so hyped you could barely sleep that night, even Daphne and Pansy were excited even if they weren’t the biggest fans

There was also Astoria, Daphne’s little sister, for only one year, but she was very sweet, and nice.

The entire event lasted a month, a whole month!

France was brutally eliminated out of the team stage of the tournament, in the round of sixteen, and even though they played beautifully, they were eliminated by Bulgaria. They were this year’s favorites to win the cup, so you better hope they go on and win the entire thing, to make it worth France’s elimination

Your grandfather was angry, so he went back home, promising to be there at your house when the whole thing was over, to spend the last two weeks of vacation before school starts.

You had certainly deflated since France’s defeat, you did not sing any longer and you had put your jumper away from sight. Your only hope was England but they were eliminated also.

But that didn’t quiet down the party all round the stadium.

They were people from all countries, places and cultures, it was funny as their teams were losing people left, but others came in instead. It was revitalizing, too see all those tents, of different sizes and colors

You had been around, but never like this, it was amazing!

And time flew by! The parents came and went, as a month of vacation was a bit much, but of course there was always more than one couple with their eyes set on the big group of kids.

They had placed rules in order, but… you always managed to sneak into the boys rooms, and vice-versa

“I stole a bottle of firewhiskey”, said Matthew one night, with a big grin, you found it risky, since tonight, it was his uncle in watch of you, your aunt, and Pansy’s parents

“Matthew!”, nobody knew what to say or do, as you exchanged looks, but Theo was quick into following his friend, grabbing the bottle

“Should we…?”, you asked shakily, you and Draco shared looks, the most you had ever drink was butterbeer, even though it had a bit of alcohol, it was still harmless, but firewhiskey was… something else entirely

“Don’t be such a wimp”, said Theo with mockery, you caught Pansy looking back at you with pleading eyes, begging you not to ruin this, she was still crushing hard on Draco.

“Oh, sure”, you said, Matthew had sneaked a small glass, and he took the first sip, Theo the second, and then they expected you to come near and drink it

You didn’t want to, but… you didn’t want to be the one to kill the party either

So when the small glass got to you, you drank its content without much thought. You almost threw up because of the sting in your throat, this was what adults drank for fun? It was disgusting!

Daphne and Pansy had similar reactions, but you were not backing down now, after everything

You each had one more “drink” before the bottle was half gone.

Your eyes were teary when you were done dawning the second glass of that thing

“Let’s play some games”, muttered Matthew who seemed all too kin on “doing things” tonight, you shared looks with Pansy, who in turn looked at Draco, you saw Daphne sharing looks with Theo, and when you looked back at Matthew you saw him looking back at you

Oh Merlin

Were you in a three for three kinda thing?

You didn’t know how to deal with this

“Let’s play spin the bottle”, one suggested

“How do you play?”, you asked innocently

“You don’t know how to play?”, mocked Pansy. You did know how to play

“I can guess”, you whispered. You didn’t want to kiss anyone, so when you all sat down on a round, theo had his hand on the bottle

You didn’t want to surrender your very first kiss to one of them.

Theo seemed to have charmed the bottle, because it landed on Daphne, they shared an awkward kiss, but they were both smirking at the end of it, then it was Draco’s turn, it landed on Matthew so they of course made him drink another glass of firewhiskey. But then, already with her head in the game, Pansy took matters into her own hand and made the bottle turn, and of course, it landed on Draco

He did not seem too much into it, but Pansy did, she was smiling widely as they pouted and joined their lips together.

Matthew grabbed the bottle, with a determined look on his face, and turned it, to nobody's surprise, not even yours, landed on you. You looked at him wide-eyed, and he had this silly look on his face

You did not want to back down, but still… your very first kiss…

But for the first time in the evening, luck seemed to be on your side, as your aunt, followed closely by Tiberius and Morfin opened the door with angry looks on their faces

“Really? Do you really think you could sneak out an entire bottle of firewhiskey? enchanting water instead? please, I invented that move”, she said angrily

Only those who were parents of the kids could parent, and your aunt took you away from the room to really go out on you, but she didn’t, not really, she only gave you a speech to not do anything you didn’t want to, and to not be pressured by your “peers”, even though if they were your friends.

Anyways, it was an exciting night!

Now you couldn’t even stand the looks Matthew gave you, like you owed him something

But to no consequence, because the semi and the finals had been, Ireland was playing Peru, and they were completely flattened, and Bulgaria played Transilvania, and the bulgarians totally destroyed them

The finals were set… Ireland VS Bulgaria.

You were cheering for the Bulgarias, you liked the players better, Draco went for Ireland, for sure, and you even brought in parchment, quill and ink the night before to really draw statistics and possible plays to see who might actually win. Win the Quidditch world cup

You almost had no problems from that night, except that know you were being watched at all times by Jolie, your aunt’s cat, and also, Lucius and Narcissa’s determined eyes

You were so excited, but sad it was ending, you had met the French players, taken a lot of photos that ended up in the Daily Prophet, and in French papers, and also, had the best time with your friends

Now everyone was back for the grand finale, Uncle Lucius and aunt Narcissa were escorting your aunt and you to the Minister’s box, the rest of the lot, had returned home, not staying for the Finals, which, to your knowledge, was the best game yet, as they were the best of the best, even though they weren’t French nor English

As you entered the Arena, to find your way to your own box, and there they were, the whole Weasley lot, with Potter and Granger too! you tried to ignore them, but Draco and uncle Lucius were in a fighting mood

“Dang it dad, how far up are we?”, one of the twins asked

“Well, look at it this way, if it rains, you’ll be the first to know”, mocked uncle Lucius, and you couldn’t help but giggle, as did Draco

“Father and I are in the minister’s box, by personal invitation of Cornelius Fudge himself”

“Don’t boast Draco, there is no need with these people”, said his father, but as Potter had his arm on the rail, uncle lucius was quickly to trap him with his cane, “do enjoy yourself, while you can”, he said seriously, your aunt grabbed you and directed you to keep walking, already done with the exchange.

“Ah Miss Basilik”, greeted Mister Cornelius Fudge, by his side, there was a tall and gruff man, “may I introduce the Bulgarian Minister of magic?”

“Nice to meet you”, greeted your aunt Cercille

“There is no need dear, he doesn’t speak english”, he said, bored, but the man kept looking at her and smiling

You all got to your seats, it was a privileged post, and you were so excited

“Welcome! to the Quidditch world cup final!”, said Fudge, with wand in neck.

Even Ludo Bagman came and narrated the game, you saw the team mascots, you had to grab onto Draco for him not to jump out of the box when the Veela showed up, it was quite funny

You and Draco were both grabbing onto the railings watching the game carefully

You heard your parents and even the minister mocking your enthusiasm but you couldn’t care less about it

This was… something else

The level of international players was something out of this world! you could barely see them gliding in the air, flying quicker than anything you had ever seen, all on Firebolts of course, the favorite broom for this tournament according to what every player was using.

You couldn’t help but laugh when the Irish seeker plummeted tot he ground twice trying to follow Krum

Oh Viktor Krum, he was a bonbon, very cute, sturdy…

Anyways back to the game

It was one of the greatest you had ever seen. So electric

The Bulgarians caught the snitch, but the Irish had scored so many times that they undoubtedly won the Final, the world cup.

The Irish! This was going to be a great year! Many of the students were Irish, the party was going to keep going!

The Bulgarians were also known for partying either way, rather for celebrating or to drown their losses.

So that is why you found so weird that your aunt grabbed you and made you leave the event as soon as the match was over

“I was hoping we could go to the camp and celebrate”, you and Draco said, but your parents were unmovable, you were to return to the last night at the castle and stay there.

Matthew, his uncle and Theo haden’t left yet, they were still there, and you also found it odd when they didn’t even kept an eye on you that night, they just let you be

You never would have thought the chaos that would ensue on the campsite only moments after you had your dinner in the castle.

That at the same time you sneaked into the boy’s room they were muggle being tied and suspended in the air

That as you with Draco had gathered the entire French and English tea’s figurines, that a group of people were terrorizing the camp.

You were never going to realize how close you were to said group

Until it was too late

#misguidedlifeaters #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #hp fandom #death eaters #draco malfoy #slytherin #slytherin house #slytherin!reader

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buckybarnesfanfiction · 4 months ago

Text

AUGUSTOFWHUMP DAY #2

Day 2: iv / shock / cry for help

Other prompts: BTHB: public torture/exucation

The title was inspired by the song 'Army Dreamers' by Kate Bush.

youtube

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary:

Bucky's time at Azzano POW camp...

ao3 link:

Wattpad link:

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AUGUSTOFWHUMP '24 prompt list: https://www.tumblr.com/augustofwhump/749218851036790784/day-1-here-we-come?source=share

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WARNINGS‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️: Abuse, War, Violence, BLOOD, Hurt, WHUMP!!!, etc.

DON’T READ IF UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THESE TOPICS/TAGS!!!! ⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️⚠️

There is no sexual content in this btw….

Fanfic under cut:

Bucky stumbled, falling in the freezing mud. Rain poured down on his collapsed form, soaking him. He wished he was anywhere but here.

“Move,” shouted a soldier with a heavy German accent, ramming his metal-studded boot into Bucky’s side.

The sergeant scrambled up, falling back down twice before managing it. A rough hand in the middle of his back, shoving him forward. Stumbling again, Bucky attempted to follow the rest of the men around him.

The members of the 107th regiment were marched through the gates of Azzano by German HYDRA soldiers holding rifles to their back.

Those going too slow, or the ones who were holding the Germans up were shot and kicked down the steep slopes of the mountains they were walking across.

And Bucky was just tired. He was sick of fighting. He was sick of everything.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite all the stories, the whispered horror stories told at night, and the twisted retellings of nightmares from the veterans back in the States, nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared Bucky for this. For what he would see sacrificing everything for his country.

The long, sleepless nights on the hard, freezing dirt, the long, horrid marches to places they’ve never heard of, being cooped up in those god awful trenches next to dying soldiers he didn’t know or care for, just praying desperately to the god- that he didn’t believe in anymore- that he wouldn’t have to be forced to die a slow and painful death.

But whoever was listening to his whispered, desperate prayers- if there even was someone- was laughing in his face.

He was sure of it.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The gates of Azzano were forboarding, unforgiving. Hellish, dark. Evil. As Bucky and his men were marched through them, they looked around, only seeing hollow-eyed prisoners and their filthy clothes, their greasy hair, and skinny frames.

It would only be a matter of time before they looked just like them.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky was roughly shoved into a dirty cell, one of many in a long hallway filled with them. The cell was barely big enough for him, let alone him, Dum-Dum, Junior Juniper, and Jones.

The air smelled like piss, vomit, blood, and pain.

So much pain.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky knew that even if he somehow survived this, somehow got back home, somehow got away from this godforsaken place that smelled of piss and blood, there would always be some small, almost microscopic piece of him trapped back here among the corpses of his men and bloody mud.

If he made it home, he couldn’t risk being around his family. His friends. He would bring unwanted pain into their lives. And ruin them.

That’s what happened to his father. A Romanian immigrant who was drafted to fight for America in the Great War.

When he came back, he came back different. He became dangerous. Violent. One with the bottle. Bucky couldn’t let that happen to him.

He couldn’t.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bleak courtyard of the Azzano camp was a desolate field of mud and misery, framed by the ominous gates and barbed wire fences. Rain poured down, turning the ground into a treacherous quagmire, the chill seeping into the bones of every prisoner. The Nazis had called for a public assembly, and a sense of dread settled over the captured soldiers of the 107th regiment as they were herded into the open space.

Bucky stood in the front row, his uniform soaked and clinging to his emaciated frame. The rainwater mixed with mud on his skin, making him shiver uncontrollably. He tried to brace himself for what was to come, knowing that today would be another day of horror.

A HYDRA officer, tall and imposing in his dark coat and polished boots, stepped onto a makeshift platform. His eyes scanned the crowd with cold detachment before he began to speak in a heavy German accent.

"These men," he said, gesturing to a group of prisoners bound and kneeling at the foot of the platform, "have been caught attempting to escape. Let their punishment serve as a reminder to you all: resistance is futile, and defiance will be met with severe consequences."

The officer nodded to his subordinates, and the torture began. The air was filled with the sickening sound of flesh being struck and the agonized cries of the prisoners. Whips cracked, fists pounded, and boots stomped with brutal precision. Bucky's stomach churned as he watched his comrades being beaten mercilessly, their blood mixing with the mud at their feet.

The officer’s gaze fell on Bucky. With a sadistic smile, he pointed directly at him. "You,” he barked, “Step forward."

Bucky hesitated for a fraction of a second, but the sharp prod of a rifle butt in his back forced him to comply. He stumbled forward, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Strip him," the officer commanded.

Two guards moved in, tearing Bucky's shirt from his body, exposing his pale, rain-slicked skin. The cold air bit into him, but it was nothing compared to the dread coursing through his veins.

"Hold him," the officer ordered.

The guards grabbed Bucky’s skinny, once muscular arms, holding him in place. The officer produced a thin, black rod from his coat- a cattle prod. He approached Bucky slowly, relishing in the sadistic pleasure of the moment.

"This is what happens to those who harbor thoughts of rebellion," he said, raising the prod.

Bucky clenched his teeth, bracing for the inevitable. The prod connected with his side, sending a jolt of excruciating pain through his body. He convulsed, unable to suppress a scream as the electricity coursed through him.

Again and again, the officer applied the prod, each time eliciting a fresh scream from Bucky. The other prisoners watched in horror, their spirits crushed by the display of cruelty. Bucky’s vision blurred, the edges of his consciousness fraying with each agonizing shock.

Finally, the officer stepped back, a satisfied look on his face. Bucky hung limply in the grip of the guards, his body trembling uncontrollably.

"Let this be a lesson," the officer declared to the assembled prisoners. "Obedience will be rewarded. Defiance will be punished."

With a dismissive gesture, he signaled for the guards to release Bucky. They let him drop into the mud, his body too weak to stand. As the assembly was dismissed and the prisoners were herded back to their barracks, Bucky lay there, rain washing over him, his mind a haze of pain and despair.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

There were a lot of things to hate about war. There were a lot more things people fighting in it could hate about war.

Bucky hated many things, but he hated the trenches the most. Being trapped, confined, with absolutely nowhere to run. Nowhere. Forced to aim, pull the trigger, to kill, to watch as the men you started to consider friends, family were blown up, shot, or died of disease. Sometimes all of the above.

Or eating the shitty, moldy rations that were passed out, clinging to the small hope that they would last through the night. That you wouldn't die of hunger in the night.

Having little to no rest, forced to be constantly on alert in case of an attack that would always come. Even when he did manage a few meager hours of sleep, it was never long enough, as his dreams were constantly plagued with fear and paranoia. The need to be always ready. Always fighting.

He wished he didn’t, but he understood now.

He understood why the men who’d come home had shot themselves, woken up screaming, punching, pleaded with wild eyes not to go back. Begging to not be shipped back, shoved into uniforms too big, and guns forced into their hands.

He understood his father. His father who had come home and went straight for the liquor. Who hit his mom. Who hit him and his sisters. He understood.

Thinking of his family made him start to gag. Because he didn’t know if he had a family to come home to. Bucky didn’t even have anything to go back to. Both of his parents had died, and Becca had her new family with her husband and baby coming. Wait- Becca was pregnant when he was shipped out, so the baby has already been born- oh, no. He missed his nieces’ or nephew’s birth. Bucky started to tear up in this dingy, awful-smelling cell.

Fuck.

Steve.

That’s all he had. Steve.

The best case scenario, sadly, was that he’d come home to Brooklyn and have maybe a couple more years with Steve before he died in the middle of winter because Bucky couldn’t afford anything and to choose- food for himself or medicine for Stevie. He always chose medicine. The ridiculous, barely-working, overpriced medicine.

Always.

It was so fucking stupid, amd it made Bucky want to yell, cry, and to just end it all. But he didn’t. He never did. He just soldiered on, and ignored his struggles and thoughts. They all did.

It was something, he supposed. He had the other soldiers with him. They had some sense of camaraderie, a way to not be totally lost and alone.

He hated seeing them die. Losing his friends, watching the light leave their eyes, seeing their corpses fall limp in the cold, disgusting mud… fucking hell, at this point, they were more than that, much, much more. After all the shit they experienced together, they were practically family. His only family.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The clanging of machinery filled the air as the prisoners of war were marched into the factory, their faces etched with exhaustion and defeat. The HYDRA guards, with slick, clean rifles slung across their shoulders, barked orders in German- which they didn’t understand- their voices sharp and unforgiving. The factory was a sprawling complex of warped iron and steel, filled with the acrid smell of burning metal and the hum of the machines at work.

Bucky, with his shoulders slumped and eyes hollow, shuffled forward with the rest of the prisoners. The guards herded them into different sections of the factory, each man assigned a grueling task meant to break their spirits and sap their strength. He was lead in the direction of a massive assembly line where he would be forced to produce ammunition for the enemy.

"Get to work!" a guard shouted, shoving Bucky towards a station where heavy metal sheets waited to be fed into a cutting machine.

Bucky's hands, calloused and trembling, grasped the cold steel. He fed the sheets into the machine, the blades slicing through the metal with a deafening screech. Each movement was a struggle, his body protesting the effort after weeks of malnutrition and abuse. The hours blurred together in a relentless cycle of labor, pain, and the oppressive presence of the guards.

Bucky saw Jim Morita struggling to lift a heavy crate a few feet from him. Jim's face was pale, his eyes sunken from lack of sleep and food. Bucky wanted to help him, but the ever-watchful eyes of the guards made it impossible. He had learned the hard way that any act of solidarity was met with quick and brutal punishment.

The factory was a painting of hell. The heat from the furnaces made the air almost unbearable to breathe, and the noise was a constant assault on their senses. They were being pushed to their limits, and those who faltered were met with the harsh end of a guard's rifle or the cruel lash of a whip.

During a brief ‘break’, Bucky managed to exchange a few words with Jim. They crouched in the shadow of a massive machine, their voices barely above a whisper.

"How are you holding up, Jim?" Bucky asked, his voice rough from disuse.

Jim shook his head, wiping sweat from his brow. "Barely, Buck. I don't know how much longer I can do this."

Bucky didn’t know how to respond to that. He felt the same way. It was too hard to be hopeful when you were starving and forced to work eighteen hour days, knowing your family back home had no one to care for them. Well, that was if you had a family back in the States.

Their conversation was cut short by a guard's shout. "Back to work, you dogs!"

Bucky and Jim scrambled to their feet, returning to their stations. The hours dragged on, each minute a test of endurance and willpower. Bucky's muscles burned, and his vision swam with exhaustion, but he forced himself to keep moving. He couldn't afford to stop. None of them could.

As the day finally drew to a close, the prisoners were lined up, counted, and marched back to their barracks. Bucky's body ached with every step, but his mind was already focused on the next day, the next battle for survival.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the end, despite everything, despite all the effort, despite all the faith he’d had, it didn’t matter how hard he tried. It didn’t to the fading, delusional hopeful wish that he’d get to see the end of the war, get back home, that he’d get to be with Steve. Maybe even get to have something slightly resembling a messed-up, blurry picture of a family. It didn’t matter how many nights he’d barely slelpt, tossing, turning, curled up on the rock-hard dirt, under the sheet they called a blanket- the one that was barely enough to protect him from the cold or wind, god forbid rain or snow- in what he once dared called a tent. It didn’t fucking matter.

Nothing did.

It never did.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

The factory's cacophony of machinery and the acrid smell of molten metal created an atmosphere of constant dread and exhaustion. Bucky, shoulders hunched and hands blistered, fed yet another sheet of cold steel into the cutting machine. Each second felt like an eternity in this industrial hell, where the guards’ eyes bore into them, ready to pounce on any sign of weakness.

Bucky's eyes strayed across the assembly line to the adjacent station. A young soldier, whom he only knew by the name "Pete," struggled with a massive crate of metal parts. Pete’s movements were slow, his strength clearly waning from weeks of grueling labor and starvation. The guard stationed near him, a burly man with a cruel smirk, watched with thinly veiled anticipation.

Suddenly, Pete's knees buckled, and he dropped the crate with a resounding crash. The guard's smirk vanished, replaced by a furious snarl. He strode over, yanking Pete to his feet by the collar of his tattered uniform.

"No, please!" Pete's voice was hoarse with desperation. "I can do it. Just give me another chance!"

The guard’s response was a swift, brutal blow to Pete's stomach. The young soldier doubled over, gasping for breath. The other prisoners, Bucky included, kept their eyes down, hands moving mechanically as they worked, too afraid to intervene.

The guard grabbed Pete by the arm and started dragging him towards the factory's exit. Pete's pleas echoed through the cavernous space, each one a dagger to the hearts of those who heard it.

"Help me! Please, someone, help me!" Pete's voice was a desperate wail now, his feet scraping against the grimy floor as he struggled against the guard's grip.

Bucky's heart clenched. He wanted to do something, anything, to help Pete, but he knew any attempt to interfere would only result in more suffering—for Pete and himself. He locked eyes with Dum-Dum’s, who was working a few stations down. His expression mirrored Bucky's own helplessness and guilt.

As Pete was dragged out of sight, his cries became muffled, then abruptly cut off. The factory seemed even more oppressive in the ensuing silence, the other prisoners' movements more mechanical, their faces more hollow.

When the day's labor finally ended and the prisoners were herded back to their barracks, Bucky's body ached with exhaustion, but his mind was worse.

It always was.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

They’d all say they’d be safe. They told Bucky that his men and himself would be fine. Safe. Happy. As if anyone could be safe and happy lying in muddy trenches, drowning in the blood of your brothers in arms while getting shot at.

The enemy had gotten them. Even though he had given everything he had. Everything. Even though they’d say he’d be fine. Happy, even, fighting this war no one wanted to.

When he first saw that President Roosevelt signed the Selective Training and Service Act in the daily paper in the stands in the street- the papers he could afford because all of his salary went to medicine for Steve or the rent for the overpriced apartment- he knew.

He knew he would be chosen. He just knew. And he was. He had hidden the letter for weeks, not knowing how to break the news to Steve. He couldn’t just leave him. Not when he was always sick and couldn’t work.

So he picked up more hours at the dock, ran more errands for the shop keepers down the block. Did anything, and everything he could to scrap up enough money for a few months’ rent. He gave the money to Steve the night before he left, and oh god, Steve.

He thought he enlisted. He didn’t. He would never just leave Steve behind. But he thought he did. Stupid punk.

As Bucky had sat in the cramped, filthy cells with the other malnourished, broken men called soldiers, he knew he was done for. He’s never return to Steve. He’d never get to see his best friend again.

The thought made him nauseous. Made him sick. All he wanted was to see Steve. But that was awful. To see Steve is to have him here, because Bucky his never getting out of this fucking disgusting cell, of of the hell.

Seeing Steve meant subjecting his best friend to this nightmare. And he would never do that. Not now, not ever.

Bucky would never see Steve again. He was sure of that.

He’d heard all about the experiments HYDRA were doing on their prisoners. All of the men had.

And those fucking Nazis would take them, too. Take the strong, the weak. The defiant, the submissive. No one was safe. No one.

Not a single fucking one.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

He was going to die. He was sure of it. In some stupid, cold enemy country, far away from everything and everyone he ever knew and cared for. All alone. All fucking alone. For a cause he didn’t care for anymore. That he never did.

He hated everything. He hated this camp. He hated the guards. He hated the strachy army uniform he was allotted at the start of the war. He hated how he couldn’t shower. He hated the god that never showed up for him, even though he prayed, pleading. He hated the Nazis. He hated America. He hated the war. He hated everything.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bucky had been given a new job at the factory. Pushed a cart loaded with heavy metal parts. He kept his gaze down, trying to keep his exhaustion at bay. The others were just as bad. Dum-Dum was sick, Jim was getting weaker, and Junior, working a few stations down, appeared just as worn out as the rest, his shoulders slumped under the weight of his duties.

As they worked, the heavy iron door of the factory opened with a creak, and Zola strode in. His presence commanded immediate attention; even the noise of the factory seemed to diminish as he made his way through the maze of machinery. Zola’s eyes, sharp and calculating behind his round glasses, scanned the prisoners with clinical interest.

“Gentlemen,” Zola announced, his voice carrying an unsettling calm. “I am here to select new subjects for my research. We have made some very promising advancements, and I need fresh candidates.”

The guards fell in line behind Zola, their expressions unreadable. Bucky’s heart sank. Zola had a reputation for choosing the weakest or most vulnerable for his experiments, and the thought of one of them being taken for such a fate was terrifying.

The factory's oppressive noise and heat seemed to blur into a haze as Dr. Arnim Zola's cold eyes locked onto Junior Juniper. Bucky Barnes could only watch in despair as Zola's guards moved toward Junior, their intentions clear.

“No! Please!” Junior’s voice was raw with fear as he looked around, his pleas for help echoing off the factory walls. “Someone, help me!”

Despite his desperation, no one moved to intervene. The other prisoners, exhausted and terrified, could only watch as Zola approached. His gaze was clinical, devoid of empathy, as he assessed Junior with the precision of a scientist evaluating a specimen.

The guards grabbed Junior roughly, pulling him away from his work station. Zola’s hand rested on Junior’s shoulder with a firm, almost clinical grip.

“No, no, please,” Junior begged, trying to pull away. “I’m not strong enough! I—I can’t do this!”

Bucky's heart pounded in his chest. He had to do something. The sight of Junior being dragged away, his pleas falling on deaf ears, ignited a fierce resolve in Bucky. He had to save his friend, even if it meant risking his own life.

Spotting an unattended cart filled with metal parts nearby, Bucky seized the opportunity. Summoning every ounce of strength he had left, he lunged for the cart and shoved it with all his might. The cart, heavy with its load, careened across the floor toward Zola and the guards.

The crash of metal against metal was deafening. The cart collided with one of the guards, knocking him off balance and sending him crashing into a stack of crates. The sudden noise and chaos drew immediate attention, causing Zola to turn sharply toward the commotion.

“What is this madness?” Zola barked, his voice sharp with irritation. His eyes flared with anger as he saw the source of the disruption.

“Oops,” Bucky said, voice hoarse and rough, “it slipped.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zola had taken him.

Not Junior.

And for that, Bucky was grateful.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!!!!!

@augustofwhump

@painonthebrain

@badthingshappenbingo

#buckybarnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes whump #augustofwhump24 #auguestofwhump #whump challenge #whump fanfiction #idk what else to tag #bad things happen bingo

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