#he'd also torture him. like for the rest of his life rather than kill him

[izzythehutt]

As horrible as Walt's parting words to Jesse in Ozymandias were, in some ways it seems like they would be psychologically freeing for him.

Walt giving him over to people who he clearly hired to kill him and telling Jesse, "oh, before these people torture you for information and then shoot you, I want you to know I also let your girlfriend die of an overdose" with zero additional context is such clear and unequivocal proof that Walt was always a soulless monster who never cared about him. Which like, we the audience know is not true, Walt is grief-stricken, blames Jesse for Hank's death (lol Walt actually it is 10000000% your fault and you're projecting but what else is new?) and this final parting shot is a big fat "I never loved you" shaped-lie and the kind of deeply personal knife twist you could only give someone you loved like family and felt betrayed by, but Jesse has zero reason to think that.

Jesse can't comprehend that Walt thought Jane was so bad for him it would be better if she died rather than drag him down into a heroin-fueled OD spiral with her. Maybe years down the line he would be able to understand that was the rationale for this repulsive act, but there's a very good chance he will never understand it, and this will just be one of the giant mysteries of their relationship that haunts him for the rest of his life.

In the moment, though, his cruelty is the ultimate bridge-burning severance. All "complication" and gray areas are gone. No more mixed feelings.

A lot of what makes the relationship so uniquely upsetting for him is never really knowing if Walt cares about him or not, because so much of their dynamic is built on lies and manipulation. And in the short-term, this removes the ambiguity! Mr. White really always was the devil in a family man, chemistry teacher skin suit! Even if Jesse is beating himself up for loving this monster and having such misplaced faith in him, at least he can now just hate the guy in peace.

(Though...was Jesse even thinking much about Walt in that five month period of servitude? I get the sense that in Granite State the two of them in their respective prisons are avoiding thinking about each other because they both blame one another for where they ended up.)

Then the finale happens and all that uncomplicated hate gets mucked up again, because hey, what is Walter White good for if not messing with your head?

Walt comes into the compound with a plan to kill everyone there, has Jesse brought into the room where he's going to set off his robot machine gun death trap, clear proof that Jesse was one of his intended victims (if he'd come there to liberate him he would have done it and then gone to the lab to let him out.) Then he sees Jesse, pathetic and in chains, and....tackles him to the floor and shields him with his body before setting off the trap, calmly watches as Jesse strangles his chief captor, then once everyone in the room except the two of them are dead he...slides Jesse his gun and tells him to shoot him. Which is Walter accepting that he deserves death at Jesse's hands, an apology, forgiveness and what he wants to happen all rolled into one. Jesse demands he admit this is what he wants, sees that Walt has been shot (meaning he will forever live with the knowledge Mr. White literally took a bullet for him) and refuses to indulge him in this final act of murder/suicide.

Then he follows Jesse out of the clubhouse and has the gall to SMILE AND NOD AT JESSE before he jumps into Todd's car and speeds off to freedom?? Like, really? How DARE you, Mr. White!

Everything about this is completely consistent with the selfish asshole that Jesse has known for the past two years....but also very clearly and unequivocal proof that he cares about Jesse and always did! There is zero reason for him to do this except for the history between them. This is the bizarre swan song of their demented criminal partnership.

And Jesse gets his second chance...solely because of Walter White.

Walt freed Jesse in the only way he possibly could that would keep him out of jail. He could have turned himself in, reported Jack and Co. and gotten them all arrested, Jesse included. Instead he perpetrated incredibly fucked up, science-adjacent violence to kill everyone who hurt his partner and died in the act. This is the Heisenberg equivalent of a giant-ass apology.

Which means that in the years that follow, Jesse will have to parse through everything that happened between them, reevaluate it all, live in that bizarre gray area when in many ways it would have been easier to just hate him. Not to say there won't be a part of him that does. But it won't be the only part.

Poor Jesse. He will forever have to live with the knowledge that Mr. White did, in fact, care about him, and the inevitable ambivalent and complicated feelings that come from that.

[amysgiantbees]

Watching the first episode of Half Bad again and I saw people discussing how the book was even darker (I've read it, but I don't really remember it). It just kind of blows my mind that Nathan suffers more in the book. I wonder if I was to read it again if it would come off torture porn ish or insensitive, especially since Sally Green is a white woman. I feel like Nathan already doesn't have time to properly deal with the amount of harm he suffers in the show or deal with his trauma, let alone whatever happens in the book.

Like, in just the first episode it's revealed:

His mother is dead. Father is on the run and a terrorist. He never got to really know either of them.

His half-sister blames him for his mother's death. To the point of touture and nearly manslaughter.

He has an agent of the state once a month drill into him that he's a ticking time bomb and cut him without his consent.

His gran loves him at least but clearly seems to have bias against blood witches despite being more open minded. She also seems to favour everyone getting along at home than really disciplining Jessica for antagonizing Nathan. Which is particularly fucked since not only is what Jessica says meant to hurt him deeply, not random taunts, but he has to always tolerate what she does. Which is a lot of discipline for anyone, especially a teenager. Despite him being the youngest it feels very "older sibling". How a caregiver would rather punish you for rising to the bait because it's easier than stopping the younger child from antagonizing you in the first place.

Jessica not only bullies him at home but won't leave him alone elsewhere. Besides the violence she does, even just her crashing his friend's party. WTF, leave him alone for five minutes.

The state is forcing this "good behaivour" onto him as his punishment for being born and the price of them allowing his limited freedom. But it's a ticking time bomb. Even if he'd never retaliated, once he was officially a blood witch, he still would have likely been killed, imprisoned, forced to be a hunter, expelled from the country, or have continued to have been monitored for the rest of his life. That's no future.

Also, the way the state treats him like he's more adult than people his age (which can be seen as a metaphor for him being black). How they expect him not only to deal with the tests, and never act out, but also showing him the memories of those people being murdered. That's something no sixteen year old should see.

Not to mention just the regular traumas and pains that can happen from being a queer black man. From the confident way he baited Annalise's brother with them hooking up it certainly seemed like a move by someone who's confident in their sexuality and knows what they are. So, he's aware he's bi, Elliot isn't an awakening. So he's had to likely deal with regular non-witch racism and homophobia.

He nearly dies, via his sister.

He get's sexually harassed by an older woman possessing his grandmother.

ALL of this in the first fucking episode. We haven't even got to the dog cage yet.

[piracytheorist]

Angsty ideas by piracytheorist what's new

Hey so if you don't know me you will now and something about me is that I love whump, aka seeing my favourite fictional characters suffer. Like, suffer a lot, physically, emotionally, mentally, anything goes.

And with Twilight being a spy my mind just automatically goes "He's going to get captured one day and he will be tortured and it will be glorious :)" but then. Questions emerge. In my mind it would happen post-identity reveal and after the Forgers realize they want to stay together, so what would stop Yor from searching out for her missing husband and wreaking absolute havoc upon seeing that they're torturing him?

It was a question that's been bouncing around my head since I came up with that scenario. One idea I had was that this happens while Ostania's government is slowly falling apart, and more and more actions towards peace are taken. Orders for disarming, peace treaties, whatever goes idk how that shit works. Meanwhile, the SSS are sending pictures of tortured Twilight (and maybe a tooth or two) to the Western embassy in Ostania to provoke them. WISE decides to not do anything about Twilight, because things are just going so well and maybe they'll get an actual chance at peace and exposing the SSS's violence against one of their agents will make all of that effort crumble down. Sylvia reluctantly agrees to not do anything, because as much as it pains her to see Twilight like that, she knows he'd rather be tortured and killed than risk the peace and cause further conflict.

So I was asking myself, how would Yor stand for this? How long until Sylvia's words that this is what Twilight would want became crumbs to her worry about her husband's safety and life? For how long could Sylvia stop her, and how guilty would Yor feel for standing by while she knew he was being tortured?

And then I thought, well, easy solution, Yor gets discovered and has to take Anya and Bond and run away and hide, so she cannot go back for Loid. Now she has to stay away, but wouldn't that be too convenient, for her to be discovered just when her taking action would cause the promise for peace to shatter?

Well, just yesterday I thought that it wouldn't be "plot convenient"... if it was Sylvia who reported her. Twilight knew she's the Thorn Princess, but tried hiding it from Sylvia. Sylvia doesn't know all the details, but she knows Yor was hiding something, something which then Twilight hid from her. So when she suspects Yor is about to risk everything... Sylvia calls the SSS on her. Yor is forced to run away and leave Loid behind.

But after a while, everything between the two countries is set in peace. Maybe they're united, idk, something. So Yor comes to Sylvia's place and is like "You either help me get him out or you die right now." Sylvia just takes out the blueprints of the place the now defunct but still working in the shadows SSS is keeping Loid - she was just about to go rescue him herself. They rescue him but during the escape he puts himself in front of Yor and takes a bullet for her. They know WISE cannot provide sufficient medical care so they have to take him to the hospital. Despite all the political resolutions he's still considered a criminal, and Yor is still wanted, so there's heavy security outside the room he's kept in and Yor has no quiet and non-violent way of getting in. She manages to sneak in once while he's still fighting for his life, but then things get too intense and she has to stay away.

Twilight wakes up - he was informed that Yor was exposed while he was in captivity - and sees Sylvia, who tells him how they have peace now etc etc and he realizes it was her who reported Yor.

He understands why Sylvia did it, truly, he does. He wouldn't have had it any other way. But he also can't help hating her. Sylvia doesn't ask for forgiveness, doesn't pride herself in her choice; she knows that for the rest of her life she'll carry the burden of having destroyed the life the Forgers had built, of the thought that she would do it again for the sake of peace, and of the thought that despite hating her, the man whose life she ruined cannot blame her.

Of course, I'm not a fan of super sad endings so the Forgers reunite not too long after, and Sylvia would be one of those who help them get back together, but until that happens I want to see the angst and pain to make the happy ending more satisfying.

Anyway this is rambling and I avoid manga spoilers like the plague so please don't spoil me if anything like that happens or even is so much as mentioned thank

[ruki--mukami]

is there absulotely no way to dominate ruki? Is he a top 100%?

🧩 Canonically, he'd never allow it. We can see throughout the entirety of the series that Ruki is a bit of a control freak and once you take that control from him, he feels threatened and even holds a grudge. Everything from his family going down in shambles, the orphanage torturing him, and essentially losing all his status as a child reflects in a fear of losing everything that is important to him in his adulthood. Once he loses that control, I suspect it would be like a cruel reminder of his past, which is why he always tells Yui never to pity him or say 'sorry' in his presence in reference to his suffering.

There are also many hints during some more 'innocent' scenes of the game that would imply he prefers to top 100% of the time. In Dark Fate (Ecstasy 5), there's an option Yui has to either offer her lap for him to rest his head on or simply hold hands with him. If the heroine offers her lap, he makes a comment along the lines of "this is nice, but I prefer to look down at you." I know this was not a NSFW scene at all, but I like to think you can infer from this that this reflects his preferences with other things as well.

Given what we know about his personality as well, or at least my interpretation of it, I honestly think Ruki would react poorly to someone trying to dominate him. Poorly as in he'd probably snap their neck if it goes too far. 💀

However, I have written a situation in which Ruki was not a 100% top. Not on Tumblr because if you couldn't tell already, I get quite the kick out of writing him as a 100% top, ahaha. And honestly, as someone who tries to portray him as canonically as I can, it's very difficult to write a Ruki being dominated for me. His justification is always changing, because there just is no good justification for it by his logic other than "you can do what you want now, but know that I'll return it to you tenfold" since it's at least a better reaction than "I'll kill you."

At the same time though, I know there are a lot of DL OCs who also want to dominate, or maybe they are also a 100% top like Ruki. As you may have surmised, 100% top x 100% top probably wouldn't work out in a real relationship unless there is some compromise. And I know my RP partners didn't make a 100% top OC just to be dominated by Ruki 24/7, so I try to take that into consideration as well. There will be times when he lets his partner get on top of him, albeit rare and usually it's in a position where he's still the dominant one, lmao (since obviously top =/= dom or bottom=/= sub).

In other words, I try to bend his character as much as I can in terms of compromising here and there, but he will still be the dominant one primarily because otherwise he starts to feel less like Ruki for me. When I write a Ruki getting dominated by someone else, it lowkey feels like I'm writing a different character altogether and I don't know how to feel about it, which is why I don't do it often and he is only willing to compromise with characters who do it for the reason of "this is just how I show my love" rather than "I want to give you your just desserts" because the latter justification would just have him equate the muse to the people at the orphanage, which triggers his trauma.

Compared to other DL boys such as Laito who have shown switch tendencies (i.e., when he asked Yui to bite him), Ruki has yet to exhibit any of these signs himself in the canon material. Although I'm also very biased and possessive doms + doms who want to ruin your life are my kink, so yeah.

TL;DR: No, not canonically anyway, but I also try to take the needs of others into consideration in my portrayal since Ruki isn't the only character in the world who feels the need to be a top 24/7. 🧩

[llycaons]

ep46 (3/3): this is what it's all about. but I talk about surgical policy and jc's innumerable issues for several paragraphs first

this is legit one of the most achingly tender scenes, maybe the moat romantic and beautiful until the very last shot. or even more so. debatable. I really love the last shot. but we're starting with...torture

so in order to wrap my head around the truly absurd prospect of someone being awake for 36 hours straight AWAKE given that the pain and physical stress of surgery would cause way more issues, I'm going to assume that the pain wen ning refers to is only partially physical. the rest is what he describes above - the spiritual pain of tearing out the core and feeling that life and energy drawn out of him until he's empty and cold inside. that makes sense to me. the ramifications of having a blood-and-guts awake operation for that long is dizzying. that is straight up torture

ALSO saying he couldn't have painkillers and had to be awake is such a blatant angst-milking from mxtx. usually the story toes the line just enough for believability but this (and wwx living on the streets as a 4 yr old too, tbh) really stretches the imagination. not that homeless young children don't exist but it seemed like wwx really had NOTHING and he hadn't starved to death or frozen or been mauled despite frequently being attacked by wild dogs so idk it seems like a lot to accept. ANYWAY

god this is so depressing for wwx. so I don't want to critique wen qing because modern medical ethics around surgeries were decades in development and it was kind of an unusual situation, but I really don't think wq should have done the transfer. wwx was a healthy individual with a very high risk of death from this procedure. according to some googling (I know), the highest risk for a non-emergency surgery is an exploratory belly case, with a 47% chance of death.

surgeons can and do refuse to operate if the risk is too high (which is partially about surgeons maintaining their numbers, but still). and jc didn't medically need this surgery, so there was no risk of death on either patient. wwx pestering her to try shouldn't have even mattered...like not to deny his bodily autonomy but that kind of medical decision would never fly today. also jc didn't consent blah blah but actually he did? it wasn't fully informed but he knew he was getting a gc from somewhere. also you could argue he wasn't in his right mind but I'm not the surgery police so whatever.

obviously that's not the point and I'm not castigating wq for doing a favor for someone she felt she owed deeply and probably preventing jc from like killing himself, but I can't help analyzing it from a modern periop perspective bc that's kind of what I'm trained for

god, I kind of wish jc had died though. sure it would have been rough and wwx probably would have been hounded by guilt forever and the jiang clan wouldn't have been restored bc jyl would have never gotten the kind of support she would have needed, but ummm maybe wwx could have married lwj + convinced him to help the wens and jyl could have married jzx and it would all have been fine? no, that's silly. jgy was still out there, and if he'd killed jzx and broken jyl's heart then wwx would never have let the matter go. well it's nice to dream

btw I read a fic once where he died and it was a really boring modern AU. jc is a really great rich character I would miss him I'm just SO sick of him these days. start weeping again IDIOT

*glares at the fanfic that made wwx say he would rather die than be ordinary*

REGRETFUL FLASHBACK TIME!!! strictly speaking lwj didn't NEED this the way jc did because he always changed his ways but he wouldn't be lwj if he didn't take it hard. and he's already been supportive but I can see this making him even more caring and attentive bc jesus christ what a thing to learn

aw yeah the elbow grasp. I love this shot. so many point of contact

wwx bitterly reflecting on what a brat jc's always been - petty, looking to hurt, brash, saying anything as long as it gets a reaction. you'd think he'd grown out of it but wwx seems to be resigned to the fact that he just hasn't grown up at all

...so THERE fanfic author that make him react happily when jc insults him! canonically he dislikes it and is annoyed that jc can't grow the fuck up! it's so annoying when fics make jc the mature one to wwx's silliness bc that's literally the opposite. jc being mean and harsh doesn't mean he's mature and it's really bizarre to see people take him so shallowly. and if reconciliation is to happen jc HAS to get over this he HAS to mature a bit and not act like a bitch when he's mad and take out his rage irrationally on other like that!!! even if he blames wwx for jyl it makes zero sense to blame lwj for his parents he just wants to cling to a justification bc otherwise his life's tragedies have made zero sense. anyway he has issues

awww he was worried about lwj! dw baby I don't think he cares what jc says about him

oh my god it's shijie 😭 the music going I'm going to cry. he sees her in the woods he sees her in the water he loves her so much he misses her she was everything to him love and safety and parent and stability and affection and family and he's never going to stop loving her or missing her is he! I'm miserable

and of course wen ning is like ? and then she vanishes and wwx feels so lonely and empty and sad he just repeats what he used to say to her bc she understood when he needed comfort bc showing love and family through food is such a huge theme in this series

here's what I don't get. why did wwx do this himself and then have lwj scold him?

that isn't very tender lover of you lwj!!! who cares if the lake has an owner, wwx is hungry!!

god wn is so funny here sitting with his lotus seeds <3

what they should have done was have this happen FIRST! lwj sees wwx is hungry and reaches down, breaking the stem and the precepts in one fell swoop! anything for his beloved, who he's just realized has been through even more terrible suffering than he could have imagined! I like to think they get there and he's still not used to this, but come ON writers!

all else being said, it IS a very romantic scene. even if wwx looks flabbergasted like that. like, touched, but also very confused

and HE LOOKS TO WN FOR CONFIRMATION I love that moment and wn is like nodding like yeah young master wei! it's okay! he loves you! yeah it is a surprise he did that isn't it! but it's okay! let's eat some lotus seeds! what a sweetheart

nice shot of wwx looking happy for once in this goddamn episode. happy ending to this awkward yet very sweet impromptu comfort food-stealing boat ride

omg I forgot that it's from the jin clan. fics will have the lans use these ALL the time.

and this is so funny too he gets so excited the boat rocks and lwj has to steady him

I always loved this opening shot for yunping! so so colorful

I had to delete some other shots bc I love this so much. excited about being remembered like this

and then so happy!! this is one if his most enamored looks. sappiest. most in love, even

personal highlights: this is such a delicious episode. SO satisfying

all of wwx's longing looks staring at the ancestral shrine. gutting

wwx sideways acknowledging just how much myu punished him

jc really pressed all of my buttons but in ways that made the response from lwj and wn really satisfying, so I guess he was a team player for that one

that one shot where jc looks just like his mom? their mannerisms are SO similar

wwx stopping lwj with a hand an inch from his pelvis region. awkward and yet very intimate

lwj pushing jc away from wwx very roughly and then so so tenderly bringing wwx to safety

wen ning's passion + excellent memory

jc sobbing. YESSS CRY

"let's quickly take young master wei away from here'

my epiphany that wwx's surgical pain is partially spiritual. it's still pain but do not take this away from me I can't understand it otherwise

elbow grasp 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

wwx complaining about what a terrible personality jc has always had

'I'm hungry' 🥺 and after an awkward stumble lwj came through!!! yess that's what wwx needs

wwx's adoring and pleased little smile at the very end. he's in loovveee

[lostinmcyt]

hey there bestie @horrible-nether-portal how you doing I bring secret santa angst as requested <3 hope you enjoy! Happy holidays!

(@dreamsclock I think you also wanted to be tagged if not ignore this hdhdhdh)

/rp

warnings: mentions of torture, mentions of starvation, blood, major character death, hurt no comfort

in which the prison escape doesn't go quite as planned

Running like this, Dream thinks as he throws his last pearl and is left to rely on his non existing strength alone, was never part of the plan. 

Sure, he knew escaping the prison won't be a walk in the park, sure, he expected to have to fight his way out before he could get to their rendezvous point. What he didn't expect was how weak he'd be by the time he'd step foot outside of Pandora's Vault walls. Everything hurts as he stumbles through the forest - his body, once a powerful tool, now reduced to a constellation of wounds and scars. It feels like someone set all his nerves ablaze with pain - and they did, for months. They'd heal him, but never fully, feed him, but never enough, and so the initial fight and escape took more out of him than he had to give. 

That and the deep gash in his back, dripping dark crimson on the snow wherever he stood, a parting gift Sapnap left him before Dream managed to pearl away. 

Losing like this, Dream thinks as he tries to steady himself against a tree and falls to his knees instead, is incredibly pathetic. He's not a fan of that. He would much rather go back to winning so he can bring his plan to a close and finally rest.

He's always been good at using all resources to his advantage, and so he sacrificed two of his own lives and got exactly what he wanted in return. It was worth it. It had to be worth it. He remembers dying the first time and getting back into the Vault to do it again, cold determination and something akin to satisfaction filling his veins as he looked around the Vault and saw no one try to stop it from happening. His plan worked perfectly, as Dream expected, Punz did a fantastic job rallying everyone against him and when they dragged him to a jail of his very own creation, that night when the server celebrated finally beating the monster, he laid down staring at the ceiling, lava bubbling around him, and smiled. He won this fight, they just didn't know about it yet, but soon, soon he'd show them-

Focus, he scolds himself, realizing his mind is wandering, you're not dead yet. You haven't lost yet. Get up. Get to Punz. They will help. 

He doesn't know how to give up, never did, and so he puts all his strength into trying to stand again. It almost makes him throw up. Another attempt to move throws him back to the ground instead, and as he lays there, shaking, surrounded by trees and snow and a pool of blood that's his own, Dream can feel his eyes closing against his will. It feels like he's slipping  in and out of consciousness, blood loss getting to him after all, but he fights against it, stubborn as ever - blink, and it takes biting down on his cheek hard enough to draw blood, taste metallic on his tongue, to force his traitorous eyes open again. The new and fresh pain just sharp enough to cut through the haze clouding his mind for a few moments more.

In that moment of clarity, he can't help to think how dumb it is, to die now, now that he's finally free. Quackity couldn't break him, and neither could Sam, even though they both tried their best. Sapnap, however… Sapnap promised Dream he'd kill him if he ever escaped. 

It seems to Dream he may keep this promise, after all. 

As his eyes close again, he lets himself cry for the first time in a year. For the last time in his life. 

I'm sorry, Punz. Turns out, I just wasn't strong enough. 

***

Punz finds him a few hours later, eyes wide in shock as they notice Dream's mask in the snow a few steps away from a small figure curled up underneath a tree. A small, unmoving, figure. They kneel next to the body and turn it around, a scream escaping their throat as they recognize Dream's face. 

Punz checks for a pulse and finds none.

*** 

Dream is dead. 

***

Punz buries Dream deep underneath the community house, using the darkness of the night as a cover. Later, they pack their things and run as far as their legs can take them. Punz sets up a base in the sky.

There are so many things to be done. 

***

Dream is dead. 

Punz is alone. 

And the SMP is going to burn for this.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 11

Silent scream

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n gets shut up

Warnings: mentions of violence, swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"Fuck you." I snapped, mustering all the saliva I could before spitting it at his face. He flinched back when it splattered over his cheek, his fingers swiping through the spittle before he was shaking it from them and standing back to his full height.

"It appears this one is never going to cooperate. If she won't give us information, why let our experimentations on her possibly...benefit the girl the the future?" The general spoke menacingly to the guards behind me. "How about way find a way to shut her up?"

My heat thudded so hard in my chest it was like someone was punching me from the inside, all air knocked from my lungs before I was being hoisted up to my feet again with two rough grips on my upper arms. My chest heaving, I coughed a ragged breath before composing myself. The glint of the silver blade in the corner of my vision sent my eyes bugging out of my skull and my mind into a flat panic.

So, I did what any rational person with my capabilities would do. I began to hum the deep melody - one a seldom sung - and a smirk crawled its way onto my now curved lips. Clearly, the general was prepared, but the two guards behind we weren't so lucky.

A desperate cry pierced my tune, harmonising with my voice as I heard the havoc I was causing. This was the first time I'd enjoyed a kill, the very first time I'd wanted to use my powers for such a horrific reason. I'd only ever used this part of my power a few times, but this was the only time I'd been fully lucid whilst doing so.

Some people want nothing more than to blow their enemies' brains out, and trust me when I tell you; It felt good.

However, luck was never on my side, and the General had come full prepared. He wasn't even affected, it must've been something to do with the funny earpiece he was wearing.

As my eyes met his, the General's face held non of the cocky, smug tones that I'd expect. No, the only word I could use to describe his old and crinkled features was pure ire, and it was directed at me.

"You conniving, vile little bitch!" He snarled, the flash of silver weeding a sense of utter and complete dread, tangled with fear inside of me, uprooting my confidence. I don't remember a lot after that, to tell you the truth. I know the blade sliced along my throat. I know everything was rained black. And that's about it.

...

Awakening with a gasp was the last thing I expected to happen. The sight of the blade risen in front of the general burned into my mind, almost as if it'd been scorned against my flesh. But here I was: awake, gasping for breath, completely surrounded by doctors I'd never seen before.

My hand instantly flew to my neck, a stinging sensation pulsing from the delicate skin. I hissed as my sweaty palm made contact with the bandage, the material corse and scratchy against my skin. As a doctor waddled over to me, needle in hand, I flailed desperately, a silent scream ripping from my throat.

Hang on a second-

Silent scream? I tried again, the shrill noise that should be tearing from me simply vanishing as it hit my throat. My eyes widened with the realisation, my bottom lip wobbling as I suddenly pieces together what had happened.

He said he'd have to shut me up, didn't he? The thought made me want to scream loudly, that the blade had touched my skin and left me with no defence.

They took away the hell they'd reigned upon me, something I'd wished I could be rid of for years, and now I was disappointed. Maybe this was their plan all along, that little voice in my head sang. The tears pricked at my eyes, which rolled back lazily as the scratch of the needle poked at my neck.

...

My calloused fingers ran over the cut tirelessly, trying to itch somewhere that I could never seem to find. I don't know how long I was sedated for, but since waking up the bleeding had stopped and there was now an offensive red line that slid horizontally across my neck.

Every time I touched it, it coaxed a wince from me, and yet that's all I seemed to do. It was like poking a bruise, I guess. The more it hurts the more you want to do it.

They'd returned me to my cell, clearly very little need for restraints against my weakened, starved and dehydrated body. I could see the flesh thinning on my arms, my ribs pressing painfully against my skin. Not only could I see the hunger, but I could feel it.

Manifesting, biting, gnawing hunger. The type that are you from inside out, devouring everything of you until the only thing you could think about was eating. Huh, I guess I was already at that stage then.

My eyes remained locked in place, glossy with the endless tears as I stared at the floor. If I really looked hard enough, the still wet blood smeared over the floors of the hallway resembled something close to strawberry jam. The thoughts of the sickly sweat substance spread over a perfectly toasted piece of bread, accompanied with a big glass of fresh orange juice and washed down by a large coffee made my mouth water. The booming rumble in my stomach made the groan, even more drawn out than expected when I remembered all I'd get to eat today: a small bread roll and a tiny glass of water.

Sadly, the sink in my cell did not contain drinking water. The liquid was so discoloured that I purposely avoided washing me hands, preferring to possible have my own germs coating my hands than whatever they were giving me. I'm not kicking you about, I genuinely think the water was filtered through a clump of fucking horse shit, mixed with fish guts and complimented with a hint of rotting fruit. If I could help it, I'd be dodging that water like the plague (if it didn't contain one already) for the rest of my life.

I'm not really sure why, but my head snapped up in surprise why the door sprang open, a single guard entering.

"The general requires your presence." He deadpanned, eyes cold as eyes and sharp as a knife as they stabbed through me. I wanted to fight back, stay glued to the spot and snap back some snarky remark, but in my current condition I almost couldn't bring myself to care where I was about to be taken, or why for that matter.

I stood without a word, silently following the man until we reached an unfamiliar metal door. I found it almost laughable, really, that they'd reduced my strength so much, that no one even considered putting me any sort of restraints anymore.

The door was pushed open with a child-like whine emitting from its rusty hinges, the metal scraping over the concrete floor painfully. The guard simply grabbed my arm before tugging me into the room, letting the door shut behind his with a hollow thunk.

"Ah, she has arrived!" The general's voice exclaimed, a deviant smile spreading over his thin lips. "And just in time to meet Mr Pierce, too." He said menacingly.

I felt embarrassed, exposed, stood before the room of men. My hair was a mess, tears streaking my reddened face, eyes puffy from crying and the only clothes a wore was a now-battered hospital gown. My eyes darted around nervously, trying to avoid the blonde man sat before me, chin resting in his palm as he surveyed me.

"Why is this one...important?" The man asked, eyeing me up and down before his eyes seemed to fixate on my neck. The scar.

"This," the general spoke, but Mr Pierce kept his eyes on me, "is Miss y/n Stark." Mr Pierce's eyes widened ever so slightly, but it was barely noticeable.

"As in Tony Stark?" Pierce pondered.

"The very same." The general smirked.

"She seems awfully...quiet, for a Stark." Pierce said with almost a hint of disgust, eyes still glued to my shaking frame.

"That's because we shut her up." The general snapped, awfully harshly.

"Is that the scar? How fresh is it?" Pierce jabbed his questions, curiosity clearly becoming him in the moment.

"Indeed. Our doctors here are very good, Sir. They had her all patched up and out of bandages in just three days." The general bragged, shoulders back and head held high as if he was posing for a portrait.

"I see." Pierce mused, brows furrowed in thought. "What do you plan to do with her? Now that she can't tell you anything?"

"Oh, trust me, sir. She wasn't giving anything up either way," he paused, striding over to me and yanking my head back with a fistful of hair, my back mow  pressed to his chest and his mouth at my ear, "isn't that right, sweetheart?"he clarified, and I didn't hesitate to nod my head as much as his grip would allow.

"So why isn't she dead?" Pierce gritted, seemingly annoyed. "It's not like Tony's attached to her, he never looked for her and I've never even heard him mention her."

"But then they'll keep coming. I don't want the avengers on my back, and I'm sure you don't either." Pierce hummed in agreement. "She's with them - her and that Captain America guy arrived together - so why not use her to send a message?" The general suggested.

...

That's how I found myself tied up, wrists bound and gun to my head as I sat shakily in a chair in the middle of the quinjet. I had no clue how long I'd been since that day, but I do know that I had been sedated once again. The flimsy hospital gown allowed a shiver to chill me, skin  forming goosebumps as I sat before the open door or the quinjet.

"You will tell them exactly as I just did. Got it?" The general pressed, pushing the gun into my head hard enough to make by head throb. Tears biting at my eyes, I nodded furiously, now determined to live with the promise of being free again. "Good. Soldat, make sure she gets back to New York without being seen, I'd hate to have to spill more blood than we intended." The general demanded, a figure rustling its way out of the shadows at the edge of the room. A gasp tore from my throat at the sight of him - clad in black leather and arm as silver as the moon. The soldier - my soldier.

But he simple stared through me, eyes blank and clouded in a coldness I'd never had directed at me from him before.

"And make sure you don't fail this time, soldat." The general snapped. The soldier nodded solemnly, the echoing of boots thudding filling both their ears as the general walked off the ship.

[cookinguptales]

your mind!!!! like jan returning has SO MUCH angst potential. since she led her follows into the sun would that mean she got sentanced to death in the well? would nandor try to help her escape in a parallel to guillermo and derek? what if jan wanted revenge on guillermo for ruining her thing? how complicated nandor's feelings would be if he or nadja had to kill jan to protect guillermo? much to think about. much to cry about.

And anon, you are forgetting about my favorite angsty part! Nandor wasn't just fond of Jan at the Wellness Center. He was friends with everyone there. Like just think about when Guillermo was wreaking havoc in there. He knew them all by name! He was begging Guillermo not to hurt them because he cared about them!

And Jan literally just murdered all of them.

So I think the sense of betrayal he would have would be so great. The sense of disillusionment a lot of ex-cult members have is truly one of the worst parts, I think? Like, it feels good to have faith in something. To have a sense of community. To really believe in something and feel that it can help you. When that's betrayed, you don't just have to deal with the fallout from the actual physical problems caused to you. You also have to deal with this perversion of faith, trust, hope, and community. You kind of lose your ability to believe in things and people. It's a really terrible thing to take from someone, especially people who tend to be fairly lost in some way before they reach out to these groups to start with.

It's funny because if I didn't know that Jan was a normal vampire, I would think for sure she's an energy vampire. She really feeds off the adulation and perversion of hope. idk if you noticed all the photos in her office, but let's just say she's headed up a LOT of new religious movements over the years. lmao

Truthfully, I feel like Nandor would lash out at Guillermo at first because he was indirectly responsible for Jan deciding to kill everyone, but it would be a displaced aggression that would eventually leave him when he comes to terms with the fact that Jan would've happily killed him, too, had he stayed. It's just easier to be angry at Guillermo than Jan or himself, even if it's unfair. And it's easier to blame Guillermo for the violent dissolution of a community he cared about rather than admit that it was always founded on unsteady ground. (And honestly, we've seen a lot of evidence that Nandor finds Guillermo to be a convenient and comfortable scapegoat over the course of the series, especially when he's dealing with feelings he doesn't care to understand.)

I am imagining it all now... The anger to cover up the hurt... The eventual realization that he'd built this place up in his head because he couldn't bear to fix his real life... That all his happiness had been an illusion... "I'd rather have you alive and hating me than dead with the rest of them"... oh, my heart...

I just want to torture Nandor sometimes, perhaps as revenge for making me write so much meta about him and his very confusing motivations. And as revenge for the giant fucking fic I'm writing about him now.

Maybe I will write it... eventually... I already think I know how I want it to go, and what I'd want Jan's eventual fate to be...

(I actually love her as a character, but boy does she suck in-universe. lmao. No pun intended.)

[love-hatred-stuff]

Title: ᵗʰᵉ ʲᵉᵃˡᵒᵘˢ ᵗʸᵖᵉ} Choi San [ateez]

genre: angst, fluff

warning(s): anger issues, possessiveness, San accidently hurts you(lighlty), a bit suggestive, a lot of swearing

word count: about 2.4k

Y/N's POV:

Me and my friends, Wooyoung, f/n and Seonghwa were in a luxurious club, dancing and having fun all night. While Wooyoung and I were sitting on the red leather couch, the other two were dancing wildly on the dance floor to the loud bass music. It gave me chills and I smiled in Wooyoung's face.

"We should meet some time alone again!" He almost screamed so I could even understand him due the noise around us.

"I'm not sure if San will allow me, but sure! It was a whole torture to persuad him to just let me out with you guys."

I slightly rolled my eyes at the memories of the conversation I had with my boyfriend San about this. It really was so exhausting to talk about something like that with him. He was the jealous, overprotective type and his possessiveness were slowly getting on my nerves.

"I'll have to talk to him." Wooyoung yelled again and smiled a little awkwardly. He was surely very good looking and my guy best friend but sometimes he overdid his confidence. I liked him anyways.

"But then he'll beat you up, you know that?"

I stopped counting how many guys he had defaced because they looked wrong at me or complained about his behavior and how he treats me. It was pointless to even try to stop his anger issues when it's about me.

We started dating almost a year ago and he still had these habits.

"That could possibly happen, good, that I'm a man that has muscles and goes to the gym also." He winked at me while smiling.

He always was the flirty type but I knew he wouldn't dare to do anything I don't want. And I also knew that he loves me but just as a best friend. He's more like a brother than to me a boy I would date.

"Good luck then, Woo. You know San is experienced when it's about beating someone up." I reminded him in a joking way but we knew that I was damn right with this point.

"We will see if I can do anything." He ended this topic.

"Does San know, you're with us at a nightclub?" He mentioned his name again.

"Better, he'll fucking never finds out." I smiled a bit intimidated at the thought of if he'd find out.

"Okay, let's enjoy the rest of your life then. Come and dance." He stood up again and pulled me with him on the dance floor.

I just laughed and did what he said. Therefore I went out with my friends, to have a bit fun again. Not that I wasn't happy in my relationship with San, but he always wanted me for himself and I needed for at least a few hours a break after a long time of avoiding boys all day long.

Now everyone around me was absolutely living for the moment and I missed this feeling so much.

San was also out, but doing business instead of having fun.

After hours passed and it was getting later & later, we were getting more tired each second so we decided to end this beautiful night. F/n and Seonghwa drove home in one taxi as me and Wooyoung did the same.

They weren't actually dating, but I knew f/n had feelings for my good friend Hwa since High School.

The ride didn't take long since we had stayed in town and soon arrived at my apartment. I hugged Wooyoung goodbye and stumbled into the apartment's elevator to reach the right floor faster.

I pressed the button for the fourth floor and after a few seconds and a few more steps, I was able to open my apartment door.

I sighed, so relieved that I could take a quick shower and enjoy my lovely bed. To be honest, I never knew if San was sleeping over or not. I was just guessing in this moment, that he would stay at his apartment tonight and walked into my bathroom, taking off my skater dress.

Before I stepped in the shower I looked in the mirror and noticed that my hair was kind of a mess like my eyeliner was, through all the dancing and stuff. After I separated myself from my underwear I could finally enjoy the warm water hitting my small but feminine body.

I was too exhausted to take a long shower and just washed my body and hair quickly, got dressed in cute panties and one of San's white shirts which went up to the middle of my thighs, covering my breasts that were braless.

I wished just in this moment that he would be here, seeing me like this. He loved me in only wearing his tees and my panties. He would fall all over me right now.

I smiled brightly at my imaginations of my boyfriend living rent free in my head. I was really proud to have him. He was pretty popular and so damn handsome that every girl that hadn't a boyfriend, had from at least a little one to a huge crush on him.

But he picked me, the bookworm, which didn't mean I was automatically good in school. I was okay but nothing more.

My ego was just too big to let anyone of the teachers tell me what to do. Everyone said I was so pretty, I could be a model if I were just a little taller but I also had my failures and insecurities. And that was totally fine because I am just a human too. San taught me how to accept and love myself and I was so thankful for it.

When I wanted to crawl into my comfortable bed, I suddenly noticed a tall figure standing in my bedroom.

"My god San! You wanna kill me here?!" I breathed out heavily as my heart was already racing.

"Where the fuck were you so long?" He asked now with a deep but angered voice. And I didn't miss the anger building up in his eyes.

"Out, you know." I just said and laid on my bed, ready to sleep.

"I know. But you didn't told me you were gonna be out till after midnight!"

My eyes scanned his face, waiting for his next move.

"I told you to not be out late and amuse yourself with boys."

I let out a "Pff" sound and closed my eyes, not wanting to believe what he just said to me.

"Y/N!"

"Yes! I know waht you told me but I wanted to have fun once, without you ruining my night okay?! And I would never "amuse myself" with other boys but you in that way! Now shut up and turn the light off. I'm tired of your shit!" My words came out more harshly than I wanted them to be but I wasn't gonna take it back.

So I just closed my eyes again and covered myself up. But nothing moved or sounded like he would do anything.

"What do you mean by that?" I heard his weak voice speak quietly.

Oh god no. I feared this tone so much.

He was usually more a tough guy who didn't show his emotions much to anyone but me. And most of the time he acted all strong around me too, but sometimes his heart just couldn't handle me if I prevailed with a loud voice and harsh words.

And his wound point was when I would mention anything about a break up, even in the slightest.

"Go to sleep, San." I told him in a rather cold tone.

I wanted to avoid a conversation about this and just fucking rest. I really wasn’t in the mood to stand this right now.

"Not until you tell me." He stayed stubborn.

I sighed and sat up straight so I could look at him again.

"Nothing. I'm tired. Could you?" I was tapping on the empty bedside where he was supposed to sleep. I saw how his blue eyes slowly got teary. Fuck.

"Did you mean you're tired of me?" He asked carefully, trying to hold back his tears.

"Noo... I meant that I don't want to be suppressed by you anymore. You always tell me to stay away from boys and I do. Nothing to worry about, right? So the problem is solved. Now sleep San, please." I begged and patted on the mattress again.

"I just don't want anyone to have you like I do. I thought you wanted to be mine also." He looked down.

"I do all of this because I love you so much that I would die for you. I'll do anything but please tell me you're not going to leave me." He pleaded and a tear escaped his eye.

It was rare that he cried but when he did he was really scared. He was scared that I would leave him.

"No I'm not going to, San..."

"You never call me just San." He looked up again with sad eyes, digging into my aching heart.

I thought I dreamed when I heard him sob so softly that my heart began to ache.

"I'm sorry baby, but I am still a bit mad. But I will never leave you, okay?"

He just hummed and layed down on the bed. I covered him with the blanket and stroked through his soft hair before I leaned back again.

I breathed out at his please and kissed him with a bit more pressure.

"Don't cry. Everything's alright baby." I said in a calming voice and turned the last lamp off.

"I'm sorry Y/N, don't be mad at me, you know I can't stand this." He pleased again, gripping my small waist with his hand and pushing me against his hard body.

"Give me my goodnight kiss." He said and looked at me, perking his lips.

I decided to give him one as a treat and turned around to peck him on his lips.

"I don't like short pecks, you know that Y/N." He frowned immediately.

I sighed out and kissed him again, with a bit more pressure.

"It's fine, for now." He was finally satisfied.

And finally we could fall asleep in each other's embraces and get the rest we deserved.

▪︎▪︎▪︎

San's POV

I woke up next to my princess and instantly had to smile.

She was my everything, I was so lucky to have her in my arms.

When my hands slowly caressed her waist up and down, I noticed that she only was wearing her light pink, favorite panties and a white shirt of mine that had slipped up to her upper buddy.

Her ass pressed against my member and I felt how I hardened at this feeling.

Always when we woke up like this I got a morning boner.

Luckily she helped me most times.

But what about today? We kind of fought yesterday, before we got to bed.

I would like to deny it but I fucking cried because of her words.

It was rare but sometimes when she was mad at me, she said words she didn't really mean and I can't stand it if she mentions something that would lead us to break up eventually.

I wanted to keep her forever. I wanted to marry her one day and spend the rest of my life with her.

I would do absolutely everything to prevent that we had to part. That's why I was pretty possessive and "overprotective" over her.

But it didn't matter to me as long as she didn't have much to do with other boys.

Though she actually hated that. She wanted her freedom.

Although it was important to me that she was happy, I wouldn't stop watching with who she was hanging out with.

She let out a sweet groan at my touch and took my hand on her now naked stomach, signalling me that she was wide awake now.

"You're not mad anymore, are you?" I asked with a husky morning voice.

"I can feel your boner, San." She just ignored my question.

"You are so damn hot babe.. How am I supposed to not have one when your cute ass is pressed against it?"

She giggled cutely. Then she turned around and looked at me with her stunning eyes.

"Just take a shower with me, yeah?" She smiled seductively.

"Everything for you baby." I kissed her cheek.

We stood up together and walked to her bathroom.

•••

"San, why were you so rough?" She asked in a quiet voice as she walked out of her room into the kitchen where I was standing.

"I'm sorry." I replied.

"I'm sorry? That's all?" Now she sounded really sad and looked at me with watery eyes and pouty lips.

But I had my reasons and it wondered me why she didn't know why already.

"Oh, you fucking know. You're mine and I had to show you that. As you always forget about it." I spoke in a monotonous way.

"I like it when you go rough sometimes but not when you start hurting me. You bruised my sides, San. What is wrong with you!?" She whined, now even more upset.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you baby." I stepped towards he and tapped her shoulder in apology.

"It's okay. I will meet up with Wooyoung today." She told me as if it was normal for her to meet up with him.

As if she didn't know that I would freak out at this.

"What the fuck, Y/N!? You will not." I tried to suppress an aggressive tone.

"I'm kidding, San. God, you're so controlling." She rolled her eyes back.

My eyes widened again at her statement.

"You're kidding?" I wanted to make sure, a bit to blended from all this stuff going on to even think straight and be able to follow her words properly.

"Yeah, it was supposed to be my revenge, idiot." She snapped again and walked away.

"Don't call me that!" I told her.

She was never this disrespectful. What the heck was going on?

"Y/N? What is it, huh?" I tried to sound soft but obviously failed.

She breathed out heavily, telling me how annoyed she was by now.

"Either you go and leave me alone or..." She bursted out.

My heart stopped for a moment just to start racing rapidly a second later as I realised what she implied to say.

"Or what?" My voice shivered already.

"Or we take a break." And my heartbeat stopped a second time.

"We just had sex and you're telling me, you wanna take a break?" I asked shocked.

I wished this was just a stupid nightmare of mine, because for me it really was at that point.

"Do you love me, San?" She suddenly wanted to know.

"What? Of course I do! I told you last night."

I was so confused and overwhelmed with this situation, I thought I forgot how to breathe properly.

"Why do you try to control me all the time if you really do?"

"That's the thing Y/N. I do that because I love you too much to let some boy near you." I tried to explain meaningfully.

But she was still quietly standing in front of me.

"I'll let you go with him for two hours, okay?" I thought the best thing to do is to give her what she wanted.

I almost missed that tears rolled down my cheeks. I was so damn emotional when it was about her.

"Please say something, love." I begged. Silence was never a good sign.

"I love you too. But you have to promise to let me go out more often. I don't care if it's with you or with my friends but I want some free time." She finally explained.

In the next second she was in my arms and hugged me tightly.

"I promise, Y/N. I love you."

The picture & gif are not mine, credits to the owners

[make-sterek-canon]

That night I saved you || PolArm oneshot (KinnPorsche The Series)

Getting hurt being somebody's bodyguard is part of the job. It's inevitable.

Getting killed is another thing entirely. In Pol's eyes, it's unacceptable. Even more if the one at risk is Arm.

·

·

“That night I saved you”

[Pol’s POV] (Italics = emphasis/others; italics and bold = thoughts)

·

·

Extremely warm night. Sticky climate. His suit is completely ruined from all the sweat and dirtiness. There's also some blood mixed in there. Snot too, probably. Pol can't tell.

He's holding Arm down with one hand and the gun with the other. Arm is unconscious and not even responding to any external stimulus. All Pol can feel is his heart beating in his chest. Too slow to be noticed but it's something, some hope in the dark situation they're in.

Pol needs to get Arm out of there and fast or he'll lose him, and he's definitely not ready to say goodbye just yet. Maybe not ever.

He pushes the button on his earpiece but dead silence welcomes him from the other side. He takes off the damn thing rather violently.  Time to put into action his last resort then.

"Pete! Pete!" His shouts fill the air. The bullets are still flying around and there's too much noise. He waits a few seconds, then tries again. Calling Pete desperately. Unrelenting sweat is falling down his face and neck, wetting even more his white (not anymore) shirt.

"Here!" He hears, and he sighs in relief.

"Listen! Can you handle it? I need to get Arm some help, he's in bad shape!"

"Go, I'll cover you!

That's all he needs to get going. Ducked behind a pile of sturdy-looking boxes, Pol tries to pinpoint Pete's position so he'll know where to move. Judging by his shouts he might be somewhere to the right and if Pol remembers correctly there's an exit that way. He needs to move to reach it though and it's easier said than done since he still has to protect both himself and Arm from getting hit by stray bullets. The only way is staying crouched while dragging Arm's motionless body.

Unresponsive as his fellow is, Pol is taking longer to do just that. He also needs to call someone to come and get them because they took Pete's car this time and of course he's the one that has the keys.

Pol curses under his breath. He'll definitely make a copy for next time. If there was a next time. There is still the possibility that none of them will survive the night after all.

After countless and torturous minutes he finds himself closer to the right side exit. This abandoned warehouse is big but not enough to get yourself lost.

Fortunately, no one has seen them and Pol hopes it stays that way for a bit longer.

"Hang in there, Arm. We're almost out."

He hasn't moved yet and Pol is starting to think that he's been dragging a corpse all along, but the sole thought is quickly getting to him and there's no time to lose.

The air is even more stickier and dense outside than inside the building, and Pol is heavily wheezing from the effort. Resting Arm's back against the facade, he places a hand on his chest to support him while taking the phone out with his free hand. Scratch that. He decides against it when not even two seconds have passed. They were not going to make it if they had to wait for someone from the major clan to come.

"Think, Pol. Think..."

Raising his eyes he suddenly notices an old gray Sedan some meters away, parked on the side of the smaller building, part of the main one but detached.

"This better work."

Hauling Arm as carefully as his own banged up body allows him, he walks to the vehicle. It should be easy to open since its windows are not armored as Pete's and the rest of their cars. Or if it's a getaway car as Pol suspects he could probably find the keys nearby, placed there for the owner to grant a fast escape. 

First things first, he rests Arm against the car and checks to make sure it isn't open before looking for the keys. Crouching close to the driver's side tire Pol sticks his hand in the space between the car's fender and the tire, finding the keys on top of it. Bingo. After grabbing them he gets up and when a shot rings out, his hand opens on instinct dropping them to the ground. The bullet impacts against the gravel right next to where Arm is and Pol's breath stops working for a second, scared that he might have been hit.

"Where do you think you're going, scum? Put your hands up and turn around. Slowly."

Pol does as he's told, facing the man. He's pretty much average looking, not as big in size as Pol and he's definitely tired if his labored breathing is any indication. He has to take him down. And fast.

The quietness doesn't last long when the man steps forward with his gun still raised. The distance is shorter and Pol takes that chance to surprise his enemy, crouching down and getting some gravel to throw it to his face. That gets him a shout in response and he promptly throws himself against the man next to take the gun away. It flies off somewhere. But that's not the end of it. The man only needs a moment to collect himself and he attacks Pol. Avoiding blow after blow, he counterattacks when he has the opportunity, but he's not fast enough to block a sudden kick to the ribs. Falling to his knees in agonizing pain, Pol raises his head to look at the man, who's got a karambit and is brandishing it right in front of his face.

"Very nice... Just stay there like the dog you are. Fucking useless." He snickers and Pol flinches in disgust. "Your fuck-buddy must be dead, huh? Don't worry, you'll be following him soon enough..."

Pol glances Arm's way and his eyes tear up but he bites down hard on his lower lip to prevent the tears from falling. It's highly efficient since the pain distracts him from feeling anything else. He's not going to give the bastard the satisfaction to seeing him cry. Not for his own life, but for his fallen friend. The defiant look Pol sends the man's way makes him smile sadistically.

"Ah, that look... I'm so gonna enjoy butchering you like I would do a pig..."

A sudden movement causes Pol to look behind the man, a bit to his left. The man notices but it's not enough for him to turn around or even move. There's no time since he already has a bullet embedded in his skull. The dead body falls forward right into Pol but he moves before it touches him. 

Still kneeling, he looks up at the shooter. Vegas.

"Empty promises... I hate people who are all bark and no bite the most." He says, with a gravely tone full of disdain. 

And suddenly it's like a staring contest. But this time there's neither winner nor loser.

"Where's Pete?"

Pol is not sure if he should answer though he somehow knows that Vegas means no harm to his friend.

"Still inside."

"Get the fuck out of here or I'll finish you off. Less Kinn's bodyguards means less threats to my clan."

"Why won't you then?"

"What?"

"Finish us off."

"Let's just say that a certain someone wouldn't like that. Be grateful."

Guess who.

With nothing more to say, apparently, Vegas turns around and walks to the main building, gun in hand and ready. You can still hear some commotion happening inside. Pol watches him go for a second before getting up to get the keys from the gravel to open the car. He checks on Arm then, looking for his pulse in the neck. It's there. Weak, but there. Pol heaves a sigh of relief. 

Getting him inside the car is not as easy at it looks but he manages to lay him down on the back seats. Pol is still not sure how is he that unconscious but he suspects he was brutally hit with something, and he worries that Arm might have a concussion since he's bleeding quite profusely from the head.

·

·

·

The road is completely empty on their way back and Pol speeds through it with too little care for anything else than getting Arm the help he needs.

Pol is so focused that he swerves and almost goes off the road when his phone rings unexpectedly, strident in the silent car. 

His heart still in his throat, he answers after a few more tones ring.

"Pol, it's Pete."

"Hey... How are things there?" He asks the best he can, trying to steady his racing heart so it could return to normal.

"Calmer. I- I think we did it. The cargo is ours" Pete's voice is wavering a little, and Pol is not going to ask how they got it since he already knows. They had outside help and if Boss Korn found out he'd be anything but happy. But he won't say a thing. He's never been a whistleblower and he won't start now.

"Casualties?"

"Not many. We came prepared after all."

"Yeah..." Pol distractedly says, looking at Arm through the rearview mirror.

"What about Arm? Where are you taking him?"

"Where do you think?"

"Dr. Top? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Pol grips the steering wheel so hard that both his hands start hurting, and he asks with his teeth clenched. "I don't have many options at the moment, or do I?"

He doesn't trust the man either but it's also true that there's nobody else they can go to. Dr. Top is as mysterious as he is a good doctor, and he'll treat Arm fairly. 

"Ok, ok. Do what you have to do."

Running a trembling hand through his thick and slightly sweaty hair, Pol exhales slowly. "Pete, Arm... he... I'm not sure if he's alive. He hasn't moved or anything since before we left. He had a pulse when I got him into the car, but it was weak. He... he may be dead for all I know and fuck, I'm not okay with that..."

"Pol, you need to calm down," Pete says softly. "It's going to be okay, you hear me? He's gonna be alright. He's one of the toughtest men I know. So stop thinking. It's definitely not helping."

"It's just-"

"No, and whatever you might want to say? Just keep it for when he comes around. Okay? Call me when you get there."

"Yeah."

"Pol."

"Yeah, alright. I'll call you."

"And... ?"

"Stop thinking. I got it the first time, Pete."

"Just in case you forgot."

"Right... See you."

"See ya."

Then Pol hears a "Vegas, what the f-" and suddenly the line is cut off. 

He doesn't move or says anything for a while, but the silence becomes too much and he feels the need to fill it.

"Vegas came to help... Can you imagine? That sadistic bastard helping us... Well, more like helping Pete." Pol mumbles, looking in the rearview mirror from time to time. "He saved my life. I'm not sure if I should be grateful or scared. I owe him, big-time." He doesn't know what comes into him but in a flash, Pol hits the steering wheel quite violently. "Fuck, Arm. Talk. Open your damn eyes. Can you at least hear me?" Regret washes over him the second he explodes. "I can't believe I'm doing this... I'm sorry. Fuck. I'm sorry. I should have been there for you sooner. If you die...” Don't you dare die on me.

·

·

·

The Anakinn residence comes into sight, imposing and in complete darkness except for the lights on the front facade. 

Next to it, Dr. Top's house lies. It kinda looks like a cabin and it has all the comodities and necessities but if he lives there is basically because it is in his contract. Other than that, he comes and goes at will. No questions asked.

Getting out of the car Pol opens the back door to take Arm out. He doesn't even care about leaving the car open since it's not his and carries Arm bridal style towards the house. The entrance light turns on before he reaches the wooden door and it opens, showing the doctor in silky maroon pajamas. He's the definition of tall, dark and handsome. That's probably why Boss Tankhun and Vegas' brother Macao are head over heels for the man.

"Sleeping, Doc?"

The man smirks for a microsecond and urges Pol to get inside. "Leave him on the dining room table." He quickly follows the orders. It was like someone had told the doctor that they were coming because the table was clearly prepared for an emergency. Leaving him there, Pol steps back. That's when he takes a moment to evaluate Arm's state by himself. He's too damn pale. But other than that he looks like he's sleeping.

"Can you tell me what happened to him?" The doctor asks while checking Arm for vitals and shining a light into his eyes.

"I don't really know. I wasn't even close when it happened." Pol explains. "But I guess he was hit with some kind of weapon or thrown against something..." He stops talking, swallowing hard when he notices that his voice is breaking.

"It must be a concussion... Has he been unconscious the whole time?" 

So I was right. Pol nods, not trusting his voice just yet. 

"I'm gonna need you to be vocal, Pol. Get yourself together and talk."

"Y- yeah, he's been like that since I found him lying on the ground."

"That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Pol clenches his fists. Son of a...

"Okay, you can wait outside. Drink some water. Eat something. Do whatever you want, but get out of my sight."

"What? No-"

"Yes, Pol. You're making me uncomfortable, and you don't want Arm to suffer the consequences, right?"

Frowning and still with his fists clenched, he barks a resounding negative, storming out of the dining room after glancing at Arm for a brief second.

If he lets himself get carried away and closes the door with more force than necessary nobody can really blame him.

·

·

·

Pol doesn't know how much time he spends sitting on that awfully orange colored sofa, but he's been dozing off for a while, his eyes opening and closing non-stop. 

But he knows he obviously lost the battle when he's startled awake by a hand shaking him. His own grabs that hand determined to get it off him in the worst way possible but he's promptly stopped by a familiar voice calling his name. "Pol, it's me."

Pete's delicate face welcomes him when he opens his eyes. "Pete. You're here." Surprise follows and he sits upright. "Why are you here? I thought you were with V-"

"He dropped me off and went back to work. He's got some unfinished business to attend..."

"Yeah, I can only imagine." Pol snorts, running a hand through his hair and clearing his throat. He feels it scratchy, like something got stuck there.

"Have you drank or ate anything? I don't want to be that person but you look bad..." And it must be true when his friend is looking at him in such a worrisome way. He doesn't even get upset for not having called him.

"I just can't... I feel like throwing up every time I think about it. Arm..." The reality hits Pol in that exact moment he remembers why he's in the state he is in. "Fuck. Arm. Pete, how is he? Do you know? Has the doctor talked to you? Is Arm... ?"

"Stop. Man, you're freaking out and that's not going to help either of you," Pete tries to calm Pol, taking his hands between his. "He's alive. He's fine. But he's not waking up. Dr. Top said that it'll probably take some more time for him to come to his senses. He also said that he's suffering from a severe concussion and that he's lucky he has no brain damage. So it's just a matter of time until he..."

"I want to see him." Pol declares, getting up in such a rush that it desestabilizes him for a second.

"You're going to hurt yourself even more. So stubborn..." Pete mutters, frowning while holding him by the elbows. "Has Dr. Top checked you up? Ah, don't bother answering. I already know what you're gonna say. Sit, for fuck’s sake."

"I need to see him," Pol almost begs. He just wants to see with his own eyes that Arm is alive. Is that so hard to understand?

"No, it's not." It's almost as if his friend had read his thoughts but he just said it aloud. "You know, it should have come as a surprise... but it just makes perfect sense. You are always together, and don't let me get started with those meaningful stares and little touches... Say, when you do you think it all started?"

"What do you mean?" He's still not ready to admit it out loud. Not if he can help it. So he chooses to play dumb instead.

Too bad Pete doesn't think the same.

"When did you fall in love?"

"You're being more nosy than usual..."

"I'm just curious."

"Should I ask you the same then? About you and that... man?" Pol answers back, quite forcefully.

Pete stills for a moment, with his eyes being the only thing giving him away. "I guess I deserved that one."

Feeling bad, Pol quickly backpedals. "No, I'm sorry. I just don't want to talk about it. It's not the moment nor the place."

"You're right," Pete shrugs sending him a tiny smile. "But don't think this is over."

"Oh, trust me. If I know you, and I think I do quite well, I just know you're not dropping it out anytime soon."

"Just delaying it. Because you look awful and I pity you."

Pol can barely contain a laugh. Pete is that good. He's a ray of sunshine among the darkness that lives within them. Even when he's had it really bad himself. Being a ball of happiness is his greatest charm.

"Okay, jerk, now make yourself useful and take me to him." 

“Methinks you should ask nicely,” Pete pouts, obviously faking being upset.

“Well, me thinks you're being ridiculous.”

“Ah, you're no fun...” Sighing, Pete puts an arm around Pol's waist, and he instinctively puts his right arm around Pete's shoulder as support. "Alright then, I'll take you to your lover boy. He's rocking the Sleeping Beauty look, let me tell you."

"I'm telling him once he wakes up."

"Oh yeah? Then I'll tell Boss Tankhun to punish you later.

Pol snorts. "As if I hadn't had enough beatings for two lifetimes..." 

"At least you weren't almost killed like a million times. Those guys were ruthless. The bullets kept coming and I thought I was a goner."

"You don't know the half of it," he mutters shaking his head, remembering how Vegas had saved his ass. Probably the same way he had saved Pete's if you think about it.

·

·

·

It seems like while Pol was asleep Dr. Top had moved Arm from the dining room to the guest room that was next to the kitchen and the toilet. Not by himself, of course, but with Pete's help. 

The bedroom is neither big nor small, and it looks cozy with that warm wall decor paper beige colored with golden motifs. There are some paintings and portraits here and there, and a wardrobe in the bottom right corner, not too far from the full sized bed. 

Arm lies there, still a bit too pale but he doesn't look like he's dying anymore. Pete was right in his Disney comparison and Pol cracks a smile.

"Whistle if you need me. I'll be in the living room." Pete interrupts his train of thought and he just nods, following his friend with his gaze as he leaves the room and closes the door behind him. 

Turning around, Pol walks to the bed and sits on the right edge, facing Arm. His hand moves before he can think about it and he places it over Arm's heart. His heartbeat is steady and Pol closes his eyes to calm himself. They're both safe and together. Together... As if the touch was burning him he removes his hand from Arm's chest.

"I'm going crazy... There's no other explanation." Pol sighs, running a hand through his hair as a nervous gesture. "You really need to wake up, Arm. That doctor freaks me out and I don't like the thought of you spending the night here. I want us to go home."

It's right then when Pol notices that Arm's hand is palm up on the sheets in a clear invitation. After clenching and unclenching his fist a few times, he closes the distance and grabs Arm's hand with his own, lacing their fingers. He's almost tempted to kiss the back of his hand, but what he does is leaning towards Arm to whisper in his ear in a soft tone: "Are you going to leave me hanging? I didn't peg you as a cruel man..."

At first Pol thinks it's his brain playing tricks on him or maybe a muscle reflex but when it happens again it makes him lose his breath. Something is squeezing his hand. Leaning back a little, he looks into Arm's chocolate eyes, unblinking. Awake at last.

"We're even then, because neither I pegged you as a romantic man..." His voice sounds extremely hoarse but it's like music to Pol's ears.

Wetting his lips, he smiles from ear to ear. "Ass."

This time, neither of them smile in solitude.

~~o~~

~~o~~

~~o~~

Hi!

Writing this second oneshot was a challenge. It almost killed me, haha. But it was fun and I loved writing it. So worth it!

I hope you guys like it ^^

Here’s the first ArmPol oneshot I wrote. This one is a continuation. Kind of~

I’ll probably write a third one (last?) and maybe a Vegas/Pete spin-off!

Now go  give the teaser for the series some love.

Thank you! <3

~Aeriel

[yandere-wishes]

Eight Tries //Obey  Me Yandere! Asmodeus x reader //

Thank you so so much for this wonderful prompt @feedmestraycats​. Icon made by the lovly @bbelphie​!

TW: attempted suicide, mention of rape/noncon, gore, murder, cheating

This was getting old, he still wasn't home and there was no point in pretending that he was just running late. No, you knew that your husband was not coming back home tonight, maybe if you were lucky you would find him passed out on the couch sometime in the late afternoon once you returned from the marketplace. 

There was no reason to spend the dreary and dull night alone. If that spoiled hero you called a husband could be spending such a gorgeous night, out with some prostitute from the slums then you could also be having some naughty fun~

--To call your current like a nightmare was an understatement. People awake from nightmares, they could open their eyes and be back in the safety of their warm beds, next to the person they loved. But the second your eyes opened you entered a hell on earth, there wasn't any escape, no freedom...and the worst part was that there was not a single soul to comfort you--

Five red candles set in a circle each one a blase with a tiny passionate flame. Two twigs inserted parallel to one another, caging in the dried corpse of a scorpion. Next is the demon's sacred seal written in the summoner's blood, elegantly and delicately. Sprinkle it with salt and state the ungodly words. "Oh, great Asmodeus lord of love, aviator of lust, I become thee come forth to me, I offer you my body and soul"

--You had been born to a noble family in a small and rather poor town. Despite the town economical standpoint, the natives were tremendously kind and neighborly. Everyone shared whatever little of anything they may have had. Your family, in particular, was the most charitable. Giving and giving as much as humanly possible. When it came time for you to chose a husband, your father requested you marry someone from the town, someone you truly loved disregarding how poor or wealthy they may be. Marry for love he insisted but keep it in the family. Regardless to say that's what you did. You found a man and fell in love, married a month later in a joyous celebration in which the whole town had been invited to....but then HE came along--

The circle in front of you puffed with a cloud of thick pink smoke. It invaded your sense, plunging into your mind and sending waves of ecstasy. It was a rush pure lust was infected into your entire body...

but then it stopped, neglecting your corpse and leaving you you confused and sweaty. It was in that eerie moment that the demon decided to manifest himself. He stood tall in all his glory, petite bat wings spread out. If it weren't for the dark shadow and uncharacteristic bitter frown spread thinly across his face, he would have looked as beautiful and perfect as the first miserable night you played eyes on him.

--In the dead of night Asmodeus had murdered your husband in clod blood. He had made you watch as he shredded your lover's corps leaving only a messy pile of blood and organs on the bed. But that had not been enough for the lord of lust. On that same blood-soaked bed he had defiled you,  raped you and stolen what was meant for the man who's blood you now laid in, a weeping mess reeking of that demon's stench. Your parents had found you the following day. They were sent into an accentuated frenzy. How could such a horrifying thing happen? By the following year, you'd been wed again, only for Asmodeus to return on the night of your marriage and decimate your new husband. By the fourth accurations, the townsfolk had deemed you cursed, at first they tried all that they could to save you from this dreadful beast. But all too soon it had turned into a competition. "Who could marry the nobleman's daughter and survive the next day." Desperate to wed you off your parents accepted any challenger who arrived....and each was dead by the morning of your marriage. By the sixth time, the townsfolk had already tried to kill you on multiple occasions. The sweet and caring town you knew had been annihilated replaced by this bitter, angry village of unkind and untrusting residents. And Asmodeus? Well, he'd made a game out of this, each time he'd find a new grisly way to slaughter your new husband and a new repugnant way to rape you. By the seventh husband, you'd already attempted four suicides. All resulting in fallierur, by some black miracle that dreadful demon was always able to save you and keep you alive. All hope was lost or so it seemed.--

"He's out again..." Was there any need to explain why you'd summons him. Over the last two years since your wedding to the "hero", these summonings had been almost routine. 

"Of course he is darling~ did you really think you were enough to satisfy him? hm?"

The words stabbed your heart like a million needles at once, the reality was all too fragile and could come crumbling down at any given time. You had never been enough, this was a well-known fact at this point. You had never been enough for your lovers, parents or town's people and now you weren't even enough for your own husband, the man that had saved you from all your miseries. 

"Love, he's a hero. Hero's don't settle down and live domestic lives with their loved ones and children. They need the torture of missions and anguish of journeys to feel alive. When they leave it all behind they wind up as hollow husks filling out the rest of their existence with alcohol and street women."

--After having prayed to God for too many days and nights to count, he's finally sent you a hero. Tobias was sent to vanquish the demon Asmodeus and merry you as a reward. At the time you'd all thought he had succeeded, that the avatar of lust was really dead. The thought had brought you joyous days and depressing nights. A part of you was beyond thankful that he was finally gone. The other half missed and longed for his lips on yours, for his hands brushing against your skin, the feel of his honey-colored lock tangled in between your fingers. You missed your tormentor...

At first, you and Tobias had been like any young couple so in love to notice the conflict of the world around you, so in love to disregard each other's sharp edges. So in love, until you were no longer. The first year had been sweet and peacful, every day was a harmonious dream...but then Tobias started coming home late, neglecting your presence. Some nights he wouldn't return at all and you'd run into town finding him in some pub drunk and with some random woman clinging to him. You spent those nights crying yourself into fitful revolting dreams of happiness and death. The old pre-suicidal habits had returned. One night the blade slipped and slashed a vain to deep, mentally exhausted you simply laid there waiting for the blood to run out. That's when you saw him again. Over the years he hadn't changed one bit, flirty smile and reddish-yellow eyes still playful and dark. He'd brought you back again and stayed with you until morning. The occurrence repeated it's self like clockwork until one night it was no longer dying and talking but summoning and...more. It felt right to feel him all over you again. His toxic presence made you feel complete, filling up holes in your soul.--

Asmodeus stalked closer, arms slinging in that all too causal way. You didn't dare take a step back, having played this game enough times to know every result before it even sprouted. 

"(Y/N) why won't you listen to me! How dense do you have to be to repeat the same mistake eight times! Eight freaking times before it dawns on you that you are wrong! You will always be wrong! No worthless human or "holy hero" can ever love you as I do. I'm the only one. I'll always be the only one!" 

Your brain screamed that he was wrong, that you could have had a prouspoures, dazzling life had he not killed your first husband or second or even third. Ir was his fault that your beloved town had been plagued with riots and corruption. He taught your people to sin, to ignore the words of God and his angels! Yet your cracked heart knew that he was right, no man would ever love you again... hey all married you for some selfish obligation or another. And Tobias....Tobias was the worst of all. He was forced to marry you by the holy on. Thrust into a loveless marriage with the suicidal "beauty" he was forced to save. Why couldn't God have just killed you all those years ago? Given the poor "Miss wanna die" her sole wish. He was right, this MONSTER was had always been right! No one loved you. You were less than the rubble under people's feet. Even noble god had turned his back on you...but he, this evil demon...Asmodeus had always come back for you. Hw stole your innocence, your purity, your life! your destiny was forever ruled by him. Maybe that's what you were so constantly in pain and isolation. You were trying to outrun your furutre. Why? What was the point of escaping your inevitable faith? Let it go, submit,  your miserable life would finally become less of a burden. Give up, hand over the crumpled misery you called life to Asmodeus, let him take over. It would all finally be over. No more pain, loneliness, the misery would come to a sweet end!

In a daring, insanity driven moment you lunged yourself forward gripping Asmodeus' toned shoulders with all your strenghth. Fingernails digging deeper and deeper into his creamy skin. Crashing your lips onto his, trying to let the kiss speak for you. Begging he would comprehend your actions, praying he would accept your submission. In no time he took over, dominating the kiss, slipping his wet muscle into your mouth. Running his larger hands to your lower back. Dipping lower and lower, squeezing anything he could get his hand on. He was the one to (shockinly) break the kiss. He slowly pulled away leaving behind a thin string of saliva. His lush lips were pulled into a smug smirk, his eyes were lightening up with the most joy you'd ever seen. Forcefully he pulled you closer to his chest. Holding your head where his heart would have been. 

[kezibun]

A storm of a hunt part 3

Part 1

Previous

Next

You hesitantly tell him your name, maybe he was actually just being nice?

"Huh… cool name..." He mumbles.

A waft of coldness crawls over your skin, making goose bumps rise. You can't stop the shiver that follows it.

 "Oh shoot." Papyrus sighs. "That damn heater." 

He stands up, then kicks the little heater a few times and presses the button, but nothing happens. He seems to give up on the heater and you watch him as he walks over to the box labelled torture. Your whole body is tense but you keep you're eye on him as he rummages through the box. He's looking for something that you can be sure of.

 After all this was he really going to hurt you? After what's been said? What will he find in there? What does he want? Maybe he's looking for something to tie you up with. 

 He's just playing some kind of sick game again, like everyone else in this hell hole. You shouldn't trust anyone, not even down here. You just can't especially since all you've been met with is manipulation, lies and treachery. 

Maybe now you could try to escape, slip away while his back is turned. But as you try and sit up, a sharp pain burns in your side, there is no way you're going anywhere while you're in this agony. You sit back down and instinctively hold your injuries, not that it helps. Why does everything hurt worse once you've had a minute to rest?

 Papyrus comes over with something. It looks like a big metal tin. How Is he going to hurt you with this?

He kneels on the floor, setting the tin down, he's filled it with wood and sticks. Then he snaps his fingers over it, an orange spark floats down settling on a twig, it fizzles briefly as it sets alight. The fire is slow to grow but it already feels warmer than the small space heater. The flames grow and dance as they cast an amber glow. You're mesmerised for a moment.

"Do your injuries still hurt?" His question snaps you out of it.

"Yeah, those traps did quite the number on me." You say with a nervous laugh. 

"Let me check your HP."

"Wa-"

In that second the world around goes dark, an encounter? You feel fear creep over you, this wasn't good. 

"-It…."

Damn is he going to fight you? Or just check you like he said? If this was going to be like any of the other monsters you'd encountered before? you're sure it won't be fun.

You look over to your HP. There's something weird about it, it doesn't seem right, and that makes your stomach churn with even more nerves. You don't know what's wrong but It can't be good.

 He stares at you intently for a second.

'Papyrus cheeked your stats he doesn't seem happy with what he sees.' 

It's your turn now. His name is yellow, you know what that means. You're tempted to take a peek at his stats but you really don't have the energy right now and you're pretty sure he won't appreciate it. You are definitely not up for a fight, so you choose mercy. Everything fades back to normal. That wasn't so bad.

He then just walks out, leaving you behind and alone. The only sounds that keep you company are the crackling fire in front of you and the howling wind outside. 

You sigh and huddle up by said fire, pulling the jacket around you again as you wonder what on earth he saw that he didn't like. You hope whatever it was won't get you hurt. How did you ever end up in this situation? If only you could remember.

 You feel the warmth of the fire almost wrap around you as it seeps in and you finally start to thaw. Your toes almost sting like pins and needles as the feeling starts coming back to them. 

It wasn't long though until Papyrus was back, he entered silently like he'd just appeared in the room.

He holds a brown paper bag out to you, "Eat this." 

You take the bag, inside is a donut with black icing and a purple cobweb design on top. You usually would have been suspicious of such a gift, just in case it was poisoned. But at this point you don't really care, you're just happy to get some food. All you can do now is sort of trust him right? as much as you might dislike it. What other choice do you have?

"Thanks." 

You take a bite of the donut, the first flavour you get is sugar, it's very sweet, there also seems to be a bit of a spiced flavour then you taste the weirdest thing, you're hit with a faintly meaty flavour like chicken, mixed with a slightly fishy taste? and there's a dubious crunch to it. Then following it is a sandy texture that tastes smokey, but it's all then taken over by the alcoholic aftertaste that hits next. Despite the weirdness it's actually pretty good, better than snail pie to say the least, possibly the second best thing you've eaten since falling down here, the first being that candy that kept you alive through the ruins. You finish off the whole donut.

Wait. A sudden strange feeling washes over you, you feel the urge to check your stats. Did you just level up? That's kinda mysterious but cool, why would that have happened?

He then sits in front of you.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Your wound…How's it?"

"It um... feels a little better."

"Let me check it?" He asks.

You pause and take a moment to think. "I… don't know…" Is the only reply you could conjure up.

"It's ok."

He pulls the jacket off your shoulder.

"Hey don't." You grab his wrist.

He takes your hand and moves it off his wrist with a scowl. Then he pushes your ripped top up enough to see your wound. 

You flinch as his cold phalanges brush against your skin. 

"Sorry." He mutters, but he doesn't stop what he's doing, he looks over your badly wrapped wounds.

Now that he's so close you notice how his cheekbones seem to have a faint rusty glow to them, and he's actually pretty cute. No you can't be thinking like that. He's a skeleton monster that just hunted you down in a snowstorm, and scared you half to death. Not to mention you're now in his torture shed.

"The trap had some magic that stops it healing. I'm gonna to treat it. Can I… um...?" He gestures to your injuries and you fill in the gap.

You think for a minute… Is it smart to let him treat you? Probably not. But it might be your only chance, if anything he's saying is true.

"I did a pretty shoddy job with wrapping it up didn't I? Just be careful... I'd rather not die today you know…" You mumbled. Maybe that hint was a little too obvious, you feel like you basically just yelled please don't kill me. Would it be better to just beg for your life? Would that get you anywhere? Could you let go of what little pride you have left?

"You're lucky. I... can't have you dying yet." He takes his phone out and gets a first aid kit from his inventory. "Could ya hold your shirt up?" 

You do as he asks and hold up your top, the cool air is sharp to your newly exposed skin, you can't help but shiver some more.

"You humans sure feel the cold don't ya?"

Is he trying to strike up a conversation? Or just making an oddball comment?

Either way you don't really answer him… 

And with that he quickly warms his hands over the fire before he ever so carefully unwraps your bloody makeshift bandage. You watch his every move carefully, making sure there's no foul play. He then gets out a small round pot from the first aid kit, it's white with a green symbol on the lid.

"This'll sting but it'll help."

He applies the light green cream, it has a peculiar scent that can only be described as warm and kind, but it feels like he's just rubbed nettles over your flesh, that means it's working right? For you're benefit you hope. He then wraps your wound up, it's not too tight but definitely tighter then whatever you'd managed before. He pulls his jacket back around you. 

"You should try and get some sleep." He pats your head before he sits down next to you. 

"Are you staying?" 

"Yeah. Rest. I'll stay guard."

"Why are you helping me?" You query.

"It's complicated." He huffs. "No more chit chat. Just sleep already." He pulls the hood over your face roughly.

"Ok." You yawn as you lean into the corner of the shed, the wooden wall is cold and hardly an ideal pillow but you are so tired it barely bothers you, you close your eyes and soon enough you're asleep. 

. . .

"MUTT! have you lost your mind?" 

"Hush M'lord, They're sleepin'."

"YES SLEEPING AND NOT DEAD." 

"I can't kill em." 

You open your eyes slightly, stirring awake from the commotion and loud voices. 

You see Papyrus and the other skeleton, his brother?

"Then let me at the darn human." He snaps.

"M'lord you can't." Papyrus stops his brother from getting closer.

"AND WHY NOT!?"

"I told you. I need to figure it out. Trust me."

"You're going soft, don't forget your duty Papyrus! You have a week! NO THREE DAYS! Figure out whatever the heck you need to then get rid of that pest, that rodent." He starts walking off. "If Alphys finds out, I'm dead, this will be the end of my malevolent career. The Queen will have our heads for this! YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?" He huffs as he storms out. 

You're still so tired… your eyelids are too heavy to keep open… With this new silence you can't stay awake for even a second more.

[smileyoongle]

Come Back Home (A Kim Taehyung Mafia AU) // Part 2

Since so many of you wanted this, I just had to write it. Can't keep my readers waiting so here it is. Part Two. And I'll definitely be writing more parts to this. Consider it a series. Let's get it!

Summary: You were dead. Or at least that's what Kim Taehyung thought. But love never dies. A myth, yes. And maybe that's why when he finds out that you are alive, he may have already lost you.

Pairing: Mafia!Taehyung×Reader

This was another curve ball that life had decided to throw in Taehyung's way. And so far, this was the most unpleasant one. Being a mafia boss, Taehyung had dealt with all kinds of obstacles. He had been threatened, he had been shot, he had been betrayed, he had almost been caught by the police but none of it compared to what he was dealing with, currently.

Hoseok wrapped up all his medical instruments and stood up, frowning at you in sympathy. You were finally asleep after struggling and resisting with whatever energy you had left. It was mainly due to the benzodiazepine running through your veins but you were asleep, that's the only thing that mattered.

With a defeated sigh, he left the room to inform Taehyung who was eagerly waiting to see you.

Taehyung would have been in the room with you if you weren't scared of him. Surprisingly, Taehyung was the one you were scared of the most. You kept screaming at him to leave you alone, as if he was the one who tortured you.

"She's asleep for now." Hoseok announced, watching as Taehyung jolted up on hearing his voice.

With a curt nod, Taehyung rushed towards the room, not being able to wait anymore. The love of his life had come back to him, what else was he gonna do?

As soon as Taehyung wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, Hoseok stopped him by taking hold of his arm. Taehyung frowned and looked down at Hoseok's hand, wondering why he was being held back.

"There's something we need to talk about first." Hoseok mumbled, unable to look into taehyung's eyes. He already knew how red and puffy Taehyung's eyes must be because of all the crying he had done. But Hoseok couldn't bring himself to see the brokenness in them. He couldn't see his younger brother so damaged.

"What is it?" Taehyung asked, his tone holding the weight of an impatient man. Without a word, Hoseok dragged him back to the couch, making him sit on it as he sat in front of him.

The others stared at Hoseok with a curious look, trying to come up with different reasons for the upcoming conversation.

"She has been brainwashed...."

Taehyung's eyes stayed the same, not reacting to hoseok's words because he already knew this. You didn't remember him, for godsake. You didn't remember that one guy who loved you and gave you all he had.

"....beyond repair."

Now that made Taehyung's breath hitch. His heart was in his throat and all hope that he had for you to remember him had been shattered. There had to be someway. What was he gonna do?

"There has to something we can do, right?" Jimin asked, making Hoseok glance at him. Hoseok sighed and rubbed his forehead before answering the question.

"We need to know what Castillo did to her. I can't say anything until then."

Taehyung sat unmoving, his fists clenching and unclenching as he thought about all the possibilities of you having any memory of him. All he knew was that he had little to no hope left but he couldn't give up. Not yet. Not after he had got you back.

"Fine. Let's go talk to him."

💔🖤💔🖤💔🖤

"Finally here to kill me, huh?" A gruff voice filled the warehouse as Taehyung stepped inside along with the rest of the members. His eyes turned stone cold and he glared at the beaten man with a ferocious intensity.

Castillo was standing with his hands chained up to the ceiling, his clothes torn and bloody along with his skin which was splattered with his own blood. This wasn't a surprising sight for anyone who knew Kim Taehyung, things could have been worse. If anything, Castillo was being shown mercy.

"Oh trust me. You don't know the things that I have planned for you." Taehyung stated, the emotionless void in his voice was spine tingling.

Castillo chuckled, spitting blood on the floor before glancing at Taehyung with challenging eyes.

"Go on. Ask me what I did to her. I might tell you."

Taehyung gritted his teeth and prepared to lunge at him, only to be held back by his gang members.

Yoongi stepped in front of Taehyung, walking towards the tied up man with slow steps.

"Tell us what you did and we might spare you." He said, tilting his head with a threatening gaze.

Another breathy laugh escaped Castillo's mouth as he shook his head.

"We all know that's not gonna happen so I'll just tell you...."

Taehyung stopped struggling as the others dropped their hold on him, their attention turning to the man who was gonna die very soon.

"I drugged her....."

Taehyung clenched his jaw, trying his hardest to keep his temper in check.

"...again and again..."

His breathing became erratic as the others glanced at him, knowing very well what was gonna happen.

"...and I tortured her. I stuck needles in her arm. I carved her soft skin with a butcher knife. I starved her. Her screams were so delightful and sweet. Made me wanna keep hurting her. And you know what I told her?"

Taehyung took a step forward, ready to throw himself at the disgusting man in front of him.

"I told her that you asked me to hurt her. I told her that you wanted her dead."

A sharp punch landed on Castillo's jaw, blood spewing out of his mouth and dripping down his chin. Everyone stood calmly as they let Taehyung do what he wanted to do. His yells and curses rang through the room followed by Castillo's horrifying screams of pain. He deserved it.

He deserved it all.

"Now I'll tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna bring in my hounds who are gonna feast on you. Alive and Breathing. And I'll stand outside to listen to your screams. Won't that be so delightful?"

Taehyung grinned maliciously before landing a final punch to Castillo's cheek and turning around to leave. He informed the guards to bring in his hounds and let them feed on the pathetic man's flesh.

"But don't let him die. Take them away before he stops breathing and fucking burn him alive."

The guards gulped and nodded, knowing better than to not listen to Kim Taehyung. As they all sat in the car, the show begin and Castillo's screams could be heard from outside the warehouse.

Taehyung smirked in satisfaction as a tear slipped down his cheek. He had taken his revenge for you. He had made sure to bring your kidnapper as much pain as you had endured. Unfortunately, you didn't remember anything enough to appreciate Taehyung. He loved you with his everything and all he wanted was for you to remember something. Anything.

💔🖤💔🖤💔🖤

"She needs to be around someone she remembers." Hoseok stated, placing a hand on Taehyung's shoulder and giving it a light squeeze.

"And she remembers none of us."

Taehyung clasped his hands in front of him, staring at the floor as he drowned in his own spiral of thoughts. He couldn't even begin to fathom how his life had gone so wrong.

If only he hadn't left you alone in the club that night...

"Who does she remember then?" Namjoon asked, wracking his brain for anyone who knew you before you met Taehyung. Taehyung's eyes widened momentarily before he sat up straight.

"Yoona..."

Hoseok nodded and stood up, glancing at everyone with a knowing look.

"Y/N kept calling her name before falling asleep. She remembers her. We need to call Yoona."

"But-but Yoona hates us. She'll probably do something to make sure that Y/N never remembers Taehyung!" Jungkook protested, staring at Hoseok in disbelief.

Hoseok frowned sadly and looked at Taehyung, finding the younger male looking very distracted.

"It's Taehyung's call." Jin announced, waiting for Taehyung to give a verdict.

Ignoring everyone, Taehyung stood up and walked to your room, quietly entering it and closing the door behind him.

You were still asleep.

A number of bandages covered your body as your chest rose and fell rhythmically. It broke Taehyung to see you like this, knowing it was all because of him. But at least he hadn't lost you completely.

He could hear everyone's murmurs from the living room, catching bits of their conversation. Cautiously, he sat down beside you and gently held your hand in his, bringing the back of it to his lips.

He softly kissed it and rubbed circles onto it with his thumb, taking his time to look at you properly. He still couldn't believe the fact that you were here, in front of him. That he was breathing the same air as you.

But moreover, he couldn't believe that you didn't know him. That all the happy times spent beside him, had been erased from your mind.

And the thought of sending you away to live with Yoona was killing him.

Because Jungkook was right.

Yoona had been your best friend and you used to live with her before Taehyung saw you. Yoona also ran a gang but she kept that a secret from you, kept you in the dark until one day Taehyung kidnapped you. But he didn't mean you any harm. He took care of you very well. All he wanted was for Yoona to pay back all the debts that her brother owed to Taehyung.

Her brother, Minho, had been relentlessly borrowing money and drugs from Taehyung's dealers, only paying back with empty promises. It had become important to get back the money since Taehyung's reputation as a mafia leader was at stake. He didn't let people get away with things like these anyway. So why must that one guy be treated any differently?

He kept you with him as leverage, promising you that he'd let you go back as soon as Yoona paid him back. And the day came very soon.

It was a rather memorable day since you refused to go back with Yoona. Because she had lied to you. She never told you what she did, playing around with you like you were a fool. Yoona was mad at Taehyung and she blamed him for all this. She begged for your forgiveness but you had already made up your mind.

But that wasn't all.

You had also inevitably fallen for Kim Taehyung. You had accepted all his flaws and you had decided to stand by him, as long as you were kept out of his work. Unfortunately, things went wrong one day and Taehyung failed to protect you.

"Will you ever remember me?" Taehyung whispered to you, caressing your hair and taking in their softness. You were so strong for having gone through everything, only to come out alive. Taehyung was proud of you. Very proud of you.

He kissed your head and stood up, letting go of your hand as he headed out of the room. Despite everything going on, he believed in the love you both shared. He believed that someday you would truly come back home to him. He was willing to wait all his life, if that's what it took.

"Call Yoona. Tell her everything."

Taglist: @min-t-posts @annoyinglyunabashedangel @bringitseijoh @kpopgirlbtssvt @unppleased @shadowstark @bangtanniexxx

Just tagging people who I thought would want to read this. Let me know if you wanna be tagged though. Or removed from the taglist. Anything works!

-XX

[squidproquoclarice]

About Arthur's kidnapping in chapter 3: considering he suffered a direct shotgun blast (which later went septic), multiple beatings, a head injury, days without food or water, was hung upside down, and rode god knows how long in that condition, he would have realistically needed A LOT of care after his escape. He might have been bedbound for a while and needed help feeding and dressing himself. Not to mention he'd need the Victorian equivalent of physical therapy to get his shoulder working.

2. It recently occured to me after reading yet another fanfic interpretation of "blessed are the peacemakers" that the whole gang royally dropped the ball during that arc. You can imagine how bad Arthur felt after learning no one was looking for him. What's your interpretation of how the gang reacted to Arthur's near-death experience and having to take care of and protect him for weeks as he recovered? Sadie came across as a bit harsh considering how protective she got later when he got tb.

~~~~~~~~~~

Yeah, I strongly quibble with that shoulder injury and him shaking it off with no effects after “a few weeks”.  He had sepsis to the point there was actual concern he would die.  He might recover from that within a few weeks, but he’d be pretty weak at the end of it.

The big issue is the shoulder injury.  He took a shotgun slug to the shoulder, and fortunately, it apparently missed both significant bone injury and significant blood vessels, so it didn’t kill him.  But much like how TB left some lingering effects, that doesn’t mean that he’ll heal up quickly and perfectly.

Ask @mearcatsreturns and others in Timeless fandom about my rants about Garcia Flynn’s injury, and how “shot in the shoulder” being treated as an injury that’s not really life threatening and that you bounce back from quickly is a trope with incredible longevity in fiction, and it’s also incredibly wrong.  I can apply that here with Arthur.  (Seriously, tall, green eyes, loves a good journal, snarky, Dramatic Disaster Bi, Sad Dad who lost a lover and a child to violence, self-loathing, done things he hates himself for--Flynn’s gotta be descended from Arthur.)

I wrote Flynn weeks and even months later going to regular PT, and struggling with the injury and extensive rehab.  He also has the advantage of modern medical care plus a smaller-gauge bullet.  I don’t have that luxury with Arthur, but he becomes an unusual case of not noticing it quite as much as a normal, healthy man would.  The gunshot wound and TB are already comorbid since it’s the post-injury weakness that let the TB take root, but they become even more entwined because the GSW effect sort of disappears as his entire body is rapidly weakening.  Even in his recovery in Mexico, the shoulder wouldn’t show up as much after so much forced bed rest and slow rebuilding of his body and strength, because his entire body is very weak at that point. 

But I’m careful to write him having some lingering weakness in that shoulder in the months and years that follow, and even in 1907, it aches when he’s pushed himself too hard physically for the day, or it’s cold.  It’s pretty damn good again, but it’ll never be exactly what it was pre-injury, particularly as Arthur is getting older besides.

I’m guessing in the gang, there was a lot of guilt from some people at not looking for him.  You know Dutch (via Micah instigating it) had to have provided a good explanation, or else Hosea and others would have ridden out raising holy hell.  Tilly and Susan are specifically cited in his journal as taking on a lot of the nursing duties.  Others ask him how he’s doing when he’s up and about again.  Dutch pays some lip service to guilt, but much like his pre-scripted speech in Colter, it feels pretty hollow if he so easily dismissed Arthur.  They’re aware Arthur is not good at being taken care of, given his perception of lack of value except as a tool means he feels he’s not entitled to being cared for.  So I think the wisest among them managed to do it carefully in a way that didn’t make him feel feeble or needy, even as yes, he was weakened and in need of help.  

As for Sadie, yeah, that’s a big ouch, and I think she realized quickly enough how harsh it sounded that she demanded to know whether he got Colm rather than asking after his well-being.  I’ve had her cringe at that in Sunrise more than once.  

Her anger plays a part in it, of course, and there may be some struggling with understandable resentment and rage against fate that he survived the O’Driscolls when Jake didn’t.

But I do think a lot of that is her fear talking.  She watched men there at Colm’s behest murder Jake, and suffered several days of captivity, including almost definite sexual assault.  Now the one man (though I’d argue maybe Hosea also) she really has let herself start to trust and befriend is kidnapped by Colm O’Driscoll.  He comes back after several days, nearly dies, and has been tortured and subjected to any number of things in his captivity that like her, he likely will be reluctant to speak about.  

She lost Jake.  She’s almost lost this man she’s let herself start to care about, and watched his suffering in the days after he came back to camp, which has to bring back some terrible memories.  Colm O’Driscoll just proved again with one casual gesture how much he can fuck up her life, how he can still threaten her.  She has to feel like she’s absolutely not safe until Colm is dead.  Hence her demand to know whether that’s the case, before saying anything else.

Honestly, she’s not wrong in that fear.  Colm’s coming for the Van Der Lindes.  He does it again, and her berserk attack at Shady Belle again has as much to do with her fear as her vengeance, I think.  And after being attacked in her home again by the O’Driscolls, yeah, it’s actually sort of reasonable for her in her panic to be going to go after them full bore saying to herself, “I’m not safe so long as any of these motherfuckers are left alive.”  Ergo, some of her Chapter 6 actions.   

So yeah, that “Did you get Colm O’Driscoll?” is not her most admirable moment, and Arthur’s right to call her out on it with his snarky reply of something like “I’m doing fine, thanks for asking.”  But when you dig into it, it’s a pretty understandable reaction to someone with massive PTSD who’s had the everloving fuck triggered out of them by Arthur’s ordeal.  And clearly she shows very shortly after that where her care and loyalty lie, and they’re 100% with Arthur all the way.

[rambleonwithrosie]

Hello my lovely thirst babies! (It's what I call my followers)

For all of you new followers hi! Welcome! Enjoy the music and stay for the cute dish that is Queen's drummer.

All you previous 200 followers know that when I hit a milestone of 50 I always do a 50 questions type thing.

This one is gonna be all Queen!

(Also thank you everybody for sending a post from 0 to 500 notes in roughly one day!)

Opinion on Freddie Mercury calling himself "Mr. Farenheit"? It's adorable and almost like a little play on words with his birth name of Farrokh

Early 80's porn star Freddie or late 80's suburban dad Freddie look? Well I guess dad Fred because I'm not a stache person and the less facial hair and the shorter the better!

Stone Cold Crazy or I'm Going Slightly Mad? Tough choice but I'm Going Slightly Mad is the one I heard first and it's one of my favorites off of Innuendo. Sheer Heart Attack would be a great album even without Stone Cold Crazy

If Freddie asked you to house sit for him would you do it? Unless the cats are somewhere else no. I'm allergic and prejudiced against cats.

Satanic Prawn Onesie from It's A Hard Life music video or Disco Ball Red Devil Romper stage costume? Anything is better than the 800 eyed abomination

Get Down Make Love or Body Language? Get Down Make Love because at least musically it has some quality even if lyrically it's utter garbage (well if you chop off the first part it's not the worst)

Freddie in I Want to Break Free video or in Radio Ga Ga? Radio Ga Ga outfits always win. Plus other than the blouse I personally wouldn't wear anything Fred has on in I Want to Break Free

Opinion of Delilah? I think even if I actually liked cats I'd still cringe at it. As it is I definitely do not enjoy it

Bohemian Rhapsody or Bicycle Race? Oooh see Bicycle Race was my fav as a kid but BoRhap is legendary... I guess Bicycle Race because nostalgia and Star Wars!

Favorite 70s Freddie outfit?

Fat Bottomed Girls or Tear It Up? Ooh. Tear It Up. It's so delightfully naughty and grinds so hard. It's my dirty jam

Brian song you would really go all-out air-guitaring to? Tie Your Mother Down

Sail Away Sweet Sister or 39? I love the nerdiness of 39. But Sail Away Sweet Sister speaks to me and the main character of the novel I'm writing a lot. So gotta be SASS

"Hammer to Fall" or "Headlong"? Hammer to Fall probably. It's such a power jam. Not that Headlong isn't. It's also less dirty and it's on one of the best Queen albums ever

Favourite Brian solo? Oooh. Probably Tie Your Mother Down (I honestly can't recall if it has a solo. I just know it slams really hard and I live for that intro)

Briana in "I Want to Break Free" or Death in "It's a Hard Life"? Aghh. I love sassy Brianna but death is the only remotely sane looking one in Its A Hard Life

Favourite Brian solo song? I don't know a lot so Driven By You I guess

If you could spend a weekend with Brian, what would you do? Take nature hikes and talk about music and C S Lewis works and play with hedgehogs if at all possible

Would you rather stargaze with Brian or study in a science library with Brian? Stargaze for sure. I love it anyways and then he'd know all this brainy stuff that might put me to sleep but would still be fascinating

Favourite photo of Brian? I want his shawl thingy. Glam bastard.

Is Deaky one thicc bih in your opinion? He is certainly the thickest member of Queen. Have you guy's seen his apple bottomed ass of perfection?

If you could redo John's hair for Radio Ga Ga how would you do it? Maybe spiky with gel or something. Anything to reduce the electrocuted squirrel look

Describe John Deacon using 5 foods? Celery. Tall and kind of forgotten but essential. Onions because he's so savage at times he could make you cry. Hazelnuts because his hair and he's earthy and complex. Cheese because you are what you eat. And cherries but the tart pie kind not the sweet ones.

Where would you take Deaky on vacation? Hmmm. Some place with not a lot of people. I feel South America somewhere. Maybe a beach or to Patagonia

Favourite Deaky song? You're My Best Friend timeless and sweet

If you could give Deaky a new nickname what would it be? Salty the Hermit Crab

Favorite Deaky facial expression? His soft blushy sort of modest smile. Especially in the 70s.

Favorite photo of Deaky?

Favourite Deaky outfit?

Favorite salty Deaky face?

Which Monty Python sketch does Roger remind you of? The Encyclopedia Salesman because he could charm his way into somebody's house and sell them anything like the time he bs-ed that he was a Hoover vacuum salesman with I want to say John

Favourite harmonising by Roger? Probably Somebody to Love. He adds so much to those harmonies. And when they do it live it's even more noticeable but in a different way

What kind of car do you think I'm In Love with My Car is about? Whatever it is I see it as red. Probably a red Ferari. Or that's what I see and I'm sure Rog wouldn't have said no to one of those

You can have Roger do one of the (metaphorical) things to you that he mentions in "I'm in Love with My Car", what do you choose? Well giving him a thrill while my radials squeal does sound pleasant 😉😍😈

Favorite Roger Taylor solo work? Original composition it's probably Let's Get Crazy off of Fun In Space but if we're counting songs he covered Racing in the Street HANDS. DOWN! It's my fav song all time now. It and Brandy by Looking Glass

If Roger was an accessory, what would he be? Sunglasses of course 😎😎😎

"Modern Times Rock and Roll" or "Loser in the End"? Modern Times Rock N Roll. That song is not long enough. I love it.

You can talk to Roger for the rest of your life or have one night of passion with him, which do you choose? This is torture... but you didn't say I couldn't make out with him @squeezemylemon so trap there. I'm gonna talk to Rog and make out with him but no night of passion sadly. I'll still be happy kissing and chatting and being friends with a side of inspecting each other's tonsils with our tongues 😉😁😂

Favourite stage outfit of Roger's?

You can have a three-way with two different Rogers... 1) Do you do it? 2) Which Rogers (photo examples are encouraged)? Not my thing but I'm such a thirsty bitch for Rog that in this case hell yes. Sign me up for this sandwich right here

Brian or Freddie singing "'39"? Brian all the way baby. He has that perfect folk singer type voice

Which songs from other bands best describes each member? Brian is Bowie's 'Space Oddity'. Freddie is Elton's 'Rocket Man'. Roger's anthem has to be 'Big Spender' even if musically the style isn't him, musically he's Dancing in the Dark by Springsteen. John is Beethoven's 5th Symphony or The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel but don't ask me why

The members of Queen as characters from the Muppets? Hmm. John is one of the salty old guys from the audience. Roger/ina is miss Piggy because he's such a diva. Bri would be Kermit for somehow patiently dealing with Piggy!Rog. And I had to Google the other Muppets and found one named Pepe the King Prawn and if that isn't Freddie Mercury I don't know what is

The members of Queen as the Avengers? Brian is Director Fury (he counts as an Avenger right?) John is The Hulk, Freddie is outrageous Iron Man of course and Roger is Hawkeye full of sass quips and sex appeal

Queen as cake flavors? Freddie is Cherry Chocolate. John is Lemon. Brian is a really dark chocolate that probably has coffee flavoring to it. Roger is strawberry.

Queen as Classic Hollywood actors? I weirdly want to say Freddie as Clark Gable but I think he's more Douglas Fairbanks. Brian is Lawrence Olivier. John is William Powell. And Roger would be James Dean (he counts right?)

FMK: Rogerina, Briana, Frederika? Fuck Rogerina obvs. Briana is a suitable housewife. And as usual poor Fred gets killed. Sorry.

Which song would you have liked to have been around the composer as they created it? Well as much as I want to say a Roger song I'd be too busy distracting him for that to work so I'm gonna say Brian writing Dragon Attack

Favorite album art/cover? The Game. 1980 Rog in leather is my sexuality. Otherwise I'd probably say Sheer Heart Attack

Who or what is the (not actual) love of each band member’s life? Freddie's was the 4000 cats. Roger's amore is cars of course. John is in a committed relationship with cheese on toast. And Brian is a slut who while he's married to Red Special he goes around having affairs with badgers and faucets/taps

Thanks again @squeezemylemon and @zestysexmachinefromzanzibar for helping with all of these questions!

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 8

Let me in

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: y/n gets emotional

Warnings: swearing, feelings

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Life at the tower was...tiring, to say the least. During my free time I often found myself in the gym, lobbing knives at a target and trying my hardest not to biting one in Steve's chest every time he would correct my technique. When I wasn't trying to murder the avenger in cold blood, I was usually dragged into things by the other: briefings and debriefing for missions I'd never go on, my dad's parties, group training sessions and study periods with Bruce in his labs to name a few.

But for now, I was huddled in my rooms - fresh out of a hot shower after a brutal two hour training session and four mile run with Natasha - curled up on my bed and attempting to catch up on a few of the films I'd missed. But the exhaustion and drowsiness clouded my eyes, the noise from the TV merely in the background as I felt my eyes growing heavier by the second.

A sharp knock at the door snapped my out of my lowsey state, the people movie across the screen simple a blur of colour as my eyes darted past the tv and over to the door.

"Mr Stark is waiting at your door. Would you like me to let him in?" FRIDAY's evenly calm voice chimed, making me groan and mumble a 'no' into my pillows. The last person I wanted to see right now was my dad.

"Come on kid, let me in." My dad called from the other side of the door, and I could practically hear him roll his eyes and shake his head when I stayed silent. When he spoke again, it wasn't directed at me. "FRIDAY, override command and open the door."

"Wait! That's hardly fair!" I whined like a five year old, groaning again when the door swung open and my dad stood on the other side, quite clearly just as exhausted as I was.

"Get used to it, kiddo. Life isn't fair." Tony chided, walking over to my bed. I tried to shuffle away slightly when I felt the bed dip, my dad perching on the edge as his eyes scanned over the room. "I see you haven't decorated yet." He commented casually, as if nothing had ever happened between us.

"Yeah, well, I thought It'd be a shame to spend so much time on something when you're probably waiting to kick me out anyway." I mumbled, refusing to look at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you, y/n? Ever since you got back you've been-"

"Acting different?" I cut in, and when Tony simply swallowed thickly I nodded. "Funny that, seeing as I was kidnapped and tortured for three years. Not to mention made to kill people for another year after that."

"Y/n I'm sorry..."

"But you're not! You can't be, otherwise you'd actually have tried to save me, rather than leaving me to rot!" My voice cracked, tears pricked at my eyes and I now sat up straight in my bed, facing my dad but not looking him in the eye. "And you can't change that, you can't go back in the past and fix your mistake. And trying to fix it now sure as hell won't work, so I suggest you leave before I'm tempted to use you as my target for my training session tomorrow." I raised my voice, eyes now keeping his captive as the tears rolled freely down my cheeks.

"Oh, kid, they broke you." Tony murmured, cupping my cheek with his hand, eyes swimming with sorrow. Sorrow that I didn't want.

"You can't fix me either, because I'm not broken!" I said harsher now, voice only getting louder. "I don't need to be fixed..." I trailed off, voice barely above a whisper Joe as my eyes broke the contact, averting to my lap as the tears dropped onto the bed sheets.

That's how I found myself in my fathers arms, face pressed against his shoulder as the sobs made my body shake, hiccups escaping me as I tried to speak.

"A-all I needed W-was my D-dad, and yo- you took him f-from me!" I wailed, hands clutching my dad's shirt and his arms wrapped protectively around my shoulder, hands rubbing circles over my back soothingly.

"I know, kiddo. I'm sorry."

...

"Who is that?" Clint frowned, staring at the pictures scattered over the table in front of Natasha and Steve as they studied them deeply,  brows creased in thought.

"Our newest pain in the ass." Tony answered for them, slapping a thick folder down in front of Clint as he said so. The marksman was quick to pick it up, flicking through the documents, news stories and information sheets greedily.

"The...winter soldier?" He asked, looking at the three superheroes in front of him as if they'd gone mad. "But he's a ghost story!"

"I've seen him. Been shot by him, actually." Nat said, an sadistically proud smirk forming on her lips with her last words, almost as if it were an achievement.

"We're trying to find out more about him, maybe that way we can beat him." Steve explained, sitting back in his chair with crossed arms as he huffed in defeat, sick to death with staring at the same five pictures all morning.

Y/n walked in, a skip in her step as she crossed the room to Tony.

"Morning, dad." She greeted, placing a quick kiss to his cheek and heading over to the cupboard to grab a mug. Clint and Natasha frowned in confusion, looking between the two as if they'd witnessed pigs fly.

Tony shrugged, y/n too preoccupied with making herself a coffee to notice the avengers' reactions. When her coffee was done, y/n swiped her mug from under the machine and sipped happily, letting out a content sigh before wandering over to stand behind Natasha.

"What are you working on?" She asked, peering over the spy's shoulder to get a glimpse of the pictures.

A loud smash crashed through the room, Tony's eyes widening in shock and Natasha jumping from her seat in order to not get covered in spilt coffee. Y/n stood paralysed, eyes never leaving the photo in front of her as she started at the Soldier. Steve frowned deeply, studying the girl as her eyes glossed over with with what seemed to be...sadness.

Clint was already at her side, a comforting hand on her shoulder as they all asked y/n what had happened and if she was alright. It was like a constant ringing in her ear interrupted their words before they reached her ears, and y/n suddenly felt nauseous as she starred at the bright red star on the soldier's arm, his long and messy dark hair shrouding his face and his leather clad, muscular body. Only his cerulean blue eyes could be seen, the rest of his face covered in a black mask she didn't usually see him in.

"I-I need some air." She stuttered, stumbling blindly out of the room and down the stairs, tipping over a few steps from the bottom and tumbling down the last few. She quickly pulled herself to her feet, hearing still ringing and vision offset, hazy, as she scrambled for the double glass doors. Luckily they already stood open, so she flew through them and out into the busy streets of New York.

Y/n found herself colliding will someone almost instantly, angry shouts of 'hey, watch it!' And 'look where the fuck you're going, kid!' Being called after her like a chorus as she pushed through the bustling people.

She finally stopped, dropping to her knees and simply staring straight ahead, no intended subject in her line of vision as she tried to comprehend the-the grief, at seeing the a soldier's face again.

It had only been two weeks, and yet two weeks without him, his touch, his scent - it felt like an eternity to y/n now. She hasn't registered what her feeling meant for him before, liking him beyond a source of comfort had just felt...wrong, after all he'd done, and yet y/n couldn't deny it.

She was in love with the Winter Soldier, and she didn't even know his name.

...

I wasn't aware of when someone had found me, nor of how they got me back to the tower or even how I was now stood staring blankly out of the window that stood next to my bed. I gazed longingly, almost as if I stared long enough, hard enough, he'd appear.

But of course he wouldn't, he was probably half way across the world, knowing HYDRA. A soft knock on my door and my head was turning, facing my visitor with a look of pure grief and want. Desperate, unhinged want that could eat you up from inside out and you'd still feel it.

"Hey, y/n. Can I talk to you for a moment?" Nat asked tentatively, clearing trying to to disturb my shaken up state. I nodded, offering a small smile which she returned as I now faced her. She walked up to me, talking my hands him hers and playing with the as she spoke, eyes kind and full of understanding.

"There's a mission, and we want you to go." She said calmly, almost as if the mere thought of it would send me into some kind of heart attack.

"Okay," I begun, eyes flitting down to the floor before back up again. "What is it? Aren't you scared that I'm still HYDRA and all I'd do is stab someone in the back?"

"Not exactly." Nat informed me with a smile, amusement glinting in her eyes at my assumption. "For starters, we all trust you, well maybe not steve - but everyone else does." Nat and I both laughed slightly. "And I think you wouldn't have it any other way it to go on the mission yourself." Nat finished.

"How come?" I asked, brow raised.

"There's been a lead..." she started. "On the winter soldier. We thought you might want to help check it out, possibly capture him. Your powers may be the best chance we have a detaining someone as strong as him." Nat spoke. "And if we can detain him.."

"We can save him." I finished.

"Exactly."