#might be an untagged character too... ya never know...

[meanscarletdeceiver]

Excellent Emily and The Three Railway Engines™️... BUT IT'S THE BAD TIMELINE 💀

also, Togetherness™️! ... BUT IT'S THE BAD TIMELINE 💀

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

You flip the switch and step back with a smile as you admire your work. Lloyd’s hair is nearly back to its normal hue. Your no professional, but at first glance, most people won’t notice the difference. 

“How lucky that you had a blow dryer, sir,” you chime as you follow the cord to the outlet and bend to unplug it. 

“Mm, always keep a travel bag handy,” he grumbles. “Hey, hips, grab me a mirror, will ya?” 

You stand straight and spin around, suddenly conscious of your bottom. You wrap up the cord and put the dryer back in his black bag. You sift around and pull out the small circle mirror inside. You hand it over to him as he watches you. 

“Needs some gel,” his eyes flick down to his reflection as he holds up the mirror and flips his fingers in his hair. “Comb.” 

You take his terse demands in stride. You’re just happy you didn’t ruin his hair. He probably is too, but he’d never admit that. 

You retrieve his comb and gel and set it on his desk. He shoves the mirror toward you and you wince. You take it and he grabs your wrist, guiding you to angle it towards him.

You stand there like an object as he opens the tin. He spreads the gel over his hair and uses the comb to tidy it. You look around. 

“Stay still,” he demands. 

“Sorry, sir,” you face him. “Mr. Hansen, it looks really good, I think.” 

“Mmm, it’s even,” he shrugs and tosses the comb down. He snaps his fingers and you trade the comb for the tissue box. He takes one to wipe his fingers. “I always look good, sweet cheeks.” 

He sits back and looks at you, arms crossed. You nod and tidy up the mess he left. 

“Of course, Mr. Hansen,” you agree as you pack everything away in his bag. 

“So you agree?” 

“Agree, sir?” You turn to him again. 

“That I look good.” 

You lower your brows and think. You don’t want to be unprofessional but you also can’t hurt his feelings. More like it would dent his ego. 

“Your hair looks really nice--” 

“Not the question, hips,” he huffs. 

You shift and sway nervously, “well, sure, sir. I think you clean up nice. You always look spiffy.” 

“Spiffy?” He frowns, “Get out.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

You go to leave and he tuts, “ah. I’m gonna need a fresh breakfast. This is cold.” 

As you spin back again, the wrap lands on the floor in front of you. You step back as it explodes and the fluffy eggs litter the floor and the toes of your low heels. You bend to clean it up, swallowing your agitation. Sometimes, he really does get to you. 

“Good girl, hips, but try not to wag your ass like that outside these walls. Someone might get the wrong idea,” he scoffs. 

You stand up, “sir, would you like a fresh coffee too?” 

He leans his chin in his hand, his scowl dull with disappointment, “fine. Go.” 

You’re content to get some space from your boss. After so long tending to him, you can’t help but feel smothered by his persistent nagging. You can still smell the remover and dye as the scent clings to you. There’s another scent mingled in, maybe his cologne. 

You get a new wrap and coffee and return to the office. As you dip into Hansen’s office, he’s on a call. You leave his breakfast with him and duck out again. You sit behind your desk with a breath of relief. Finally, some space. Back to work. 

You skip lunch to make up for the time spent fixing Hansen’s hair. He emerges only to drop his garbage on your desk for you to clean up and with a few demands here and there. Nothing out of the usual. Everything’s back to how it should be; including his hair. 

You want to giggle as you think of it. You really should’ve tried to get a pic. No, that would be too much. 

Your phone vibrates and you rub your eye as you peel your gaze from your monitor. You open up the message from Peter. It’s a reminder of your plans. Seven o’clock! You add it to your calendar just to be sure. 

“Listen up, cheeks,” Hansen struts out as he checks his watch, “I need you to make me a reservation tonight. Six-thirty. Maestro’s. I got a buddy coming into town.” 

“Sure thing, sir,” you answer. “I’ll call the restaurant. Table for two.” 

“Get a booth, hips. You can come.” 

“Uh, Mr. Hansen?” You hesitate. 

“Uh, Missie,” he mocks, “just do what I tell you.” 

“I understand, sir, I can get the table but I have plans--” 

“You have plans?” He stomps his foot and tilts his head. “Since when do you have fun, Missie? Don’t tell me some freak wants to eat cake of your ass.” 

“Sir!” You exclaim. 

He snickers, “oh, come on, tell your little girlfriends to do something else. You’re coming.” 

“But sir, I finish at six--” 

“You finish when I say you do,” he snarls and jabs his fingertip at you. “Don’t test me. I’ve had a fucked up morning and I don’t need you ruining the rest of my day.” 

You stare at him and flick your lashes. You’re disappointed. You really did want to see Peter. He was always so much fun. 

“Alright, I’ll tell my friend not to bother--” you lift up your phone but before you can do anything, Mr. Hansen snatches it from you. 

“Peter? What kinda cuck name is that?” He snips. 

You stand up and reach for your cell. He keeps it out of your grasp as he keys with one thumb, looking up at the screen. 

“Sorry, Petey boy,” he types slowly, “found a bigger dick to ride.” 

He drops his arm and tosses the phone at you. You catch it against your chest and gape at him. He laughs again, “aw, Missie, don’t give me that look. You might actually make me feel bad.” He pinches your cheek and clicks his tongue, “get me a fucking reservation.” 

[twerkstallion]

Cars Fandom Tag Meme

Tagged by @a113cowgirl THANK YOU!! 

Created by @pixelthenerdcat 

“Just because I love doing these tagging memes :) 

For the Cars films, what is your…”

Favorite male character: LIGHTNING MCQUEEN! He is so fucken funny 

Favorite female character: wow there aren't enough so Sally!! (But I have a feeling Ima love Cruz) 

Least favorite male character: prof z. What a fucken creep. Why does he have car hair. What- 

Least favorite female character: minny, or the french lady with tit eyes 

Favorite scene: the opening scene of Cars changed my entire life. Every single thing Lightning does is iconic to the max  

I mean: you're in a movie theatre. It's dark. The Pixar lamp turns off. The screen is dark. It's silent. Suddenly, you hear Owen Wilson breathing and talking to himself about eating breakfast. The screen lights up a few times from the blackness, but it's just flashes of speeding racecars with roaring engines in the thrill of a race. You and the other 40 occupants of the theatre sit stone still, bewildered. What the fuck is this memefuckery, Pixar, what the f- 

Favorite actor and their role: uhhhhh wtf they're all so awesome????? They all put so much into their characters and you can just TELL and wow. 

Favorite Cars videogame (yes this includes mobile games like Fast as Lightning): the original Cars on the 360. All of the dialogue and paintjobs and stories and subplots and races and jokes had me LIVING. ESPECIALLY THE SOUNDTRACK HOLY FUCK!! AND LIGHTNING!! FALLING ASLEEP! IN THE MIDDLE OF GAMEPLAY! I N C R E D I B L E 

OTP: uhhhhhhhhhhh I'm not super shippy with cars honestly?? Because they're... cars.... 

I love salqueen tho 

BROTP or Platonic OTP: Lightning being friends with people without realizing it, like Mack and Strip tho... 

NOTP: I'm not here to bash ships... excEPT THAT ONE SHIP I WONT MENTION!! 

Why do you like the films: why do I- 

Why do I like caRS!??!?????!!! 

WHY??!??? 

I WISH I FUCKEN KNEW BUDDY!! YOU TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED!! Cars is corny as fuck!!! It's garbage basically!! But somehow I just... SAW Lightning McQueen and my brain just.... locked on!! Like, "HERE WE GO, tHE ONLY THING YOU’LL EVER GET THIS EXCITED ABOUT IN YOUR E N T I R E LIFE, THIS IS THE THING, FOREVER.!" And now I'm stuck like this!!! It doesn't make sense!!! I literally have NO explanation!!!! I wish I did!!!!!! 

What are you hoping to see the most in Cars 3: 

-THE SOUND PRODUCTION. I WANT THE ENGINE SOUNDS TO FLATTEN ME IN MY MOVIE THEATRE SEAT 

-the realistic, good dinosaur-esque rendering  

-chick! 

-salqueen smooches!!! 

-DESERT RACING 

-SNOW RACING 

-Lightning McQueen yelling noises 

-Lightning driving under a WAVE at the beach with the sun shining thru the water 

-the new settings!! 

-I could go on but uhhh the movie still might suck 

“Okay, now for some fandom related questions:” 

Favorite part of the fandom: the memes, the Freakouts™, the keyboard smashing, the art, the fic, the Reactions™, the fanon, the in-jokes, when people find a post that says "woah there's a cars fandom???" And the entire tumblr cars fandom replies "hi", the edits, the MVs, the spoof videos, the creative humanizations, the shitposts, the Actual Car Nerds, the FEELS TRAINS, the speculation, the quotes blog haha, the art styles, the rare gifset, ok this is a lot, 

Favorite Cars fanartist: @edgyroses, @hillbillyhell, @paralleldragons, @kiwi-likes-cars, @radiationstinks, @flatter-pencil, @invalidincorrect, there are more i swear...

Favorite Cars fanfic: these aren't tulips, Fillmore' freak juice, stormy weather, the jaguar syndrome series, Doc Hudson autobiography, stuff from @a113cowgirl, @radiatonstinks, @pixelthenerdcat ... I feel like a lot of my classic faves got deleted or didn't age well with me so that's it basically

What you enjoy putting out in the fandom (this could be anything, including rambly text posts): I love when I make a killer shitpost and the entire fandom just breaks down around it. (eg. “Get your Chicks”, “Lightning doesn’t have tits”, “car condoms”) Edits and fanart are fun too. And this is the only fandom I've written fic for. (And if I had the means to do video, you bet your ass I'd churn out memes and edits like no tomorrow.) Oh, and META!!

Do you think the fandom will survive after the release of Cars 3? (I know, evil question, but still >:D: uhhhhhh ok at first I thought NO WAY, but then... the Cars fandom was bangin' for YEEAAARSS after 2006, so if Cars 3 is good, the kids will go nuts and we will stay for a little while longer.... 

What made you become part of the fandom?: um well definitely FF.net. The original Cars trailer switched a GIANT fanfiction switch on in my head. It was instant, a lightbulb, a revelation. I was eight years old and suddenly pacing around, feverent and brimming with ideas and predictions for hours and hours and hours. I didn't even know what fanfic was despite writing so much of it in my head until... I found FF. Then I saw that OTHER people did the SAME thing, and I went nuts. I remember I read all 403 cars postings and I'd check daily for updates on any of them. (I ended up reading some untagged smut at a young age because of this though, and it fucked me up pretty bad honestly. Suddenly there was sex in a k+ rated story. Major yikes) But yeah I hopped on FF and DA and followed the content. I never actually talked to anyone in the fandom (thank god) until now, here on Tumblr. The tumblr cars fandom is a fucking INCREDIBLE niche here on the vast internet, I'm so glad I've been a part of this. Thank you for bonding together ya fucken nerds. I love you.

[dangan-analysis]

Character Analysis - Mukuro Ikusaba

Name: Mukuro Ikusaba (戦刃 むくろ)

Title: Super High School Level Soldier (超高校級の「軍人」)

Appearances: Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc (video game), Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc - The Animation (anime), Danganronpa: The Manga (manga), Danganronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc IF (light novel), Danganronpa/Zero (light novel), Danganronpa 3: The End of Hope’s Peak Academy - Side: Despair (anime), Super Danganronpa 2.5: Nagito Komaeda and the Destroyer of the World (OVA // cameo), Danganronpa Gaiden: Killer Killer (manga)

WARNING: UNTAGGED SPOILERS FOLLOW

Introduction

Mukuro Ikusaba. The sixteenth student. Lying hidden somewhere in this school. The one they call the SHSL Despair… Watch out for her...

This ominous quote from Kirigiri from the end of Chapter 4 is our first introduction to the mysterious and potentially dangerous Mukuro Ikusaba. 

Revealed to be Enoshima’s older twin sister and right hand woman, Ikusaba helped her sister plot the downfall of the world into despair. Following her sister’s instructions, Ikusaba disguised herself as her sister and participated in the School Life of Mutual Killing; however, she was ultimately betrayed by Enoshima in the end, violently stabbed to death by multiple spears in a surprise attack. Not only did she die brutally, but Ikusaba’s corpse was disfigured in an explosion during Chapter 5, serving as the trial victim for that particular chapter. The topic of her true identity arises during Chapter 6 and highlights Enoshima’s willingness to achieve ultimate despair.

Ikusaba’s character arc allows for very little information about her past and personality. However, from what we can infer from her FTEs where she breaks character and her accompanying side novels, Ikusaba was an emotionally distant but kind, loyal older sister, albeit submissive, who truly cared for her sister and only wanted to guarantee her younger sister’s happiness.

Backstory

Ikusaba’s FTEs are truly unique because not only is she acting as someone else during them, but you view them a whole different way after you realize her true identity.

One of her first slips in character is when she complains about how she’d rather be homeless, which she’s “done before, ya know”, than be bored in the Killing School Life. 

This is obviously her attempt at mimicking her sister’s hate for boredom, which foreshadows Enoshima’s love for despair later on. 

Regardless, this slip, among many others, reveals that Ikusaba and Enoshima must’ve lived in harsh environments as they grew up. 

And yet, if Ikusaba and Enoshima were homeless, how could Ikusaba run away to join Fenrir during a surely expensive family vacation to Europe? 

In addition, what environmental factors inspired her interest in the military, encouraging her to win a survival game tournament and began writing for military magazines during elementary school?

A possible theory is that Ikusaba and Enoshima were raised by a parent, relative, or guardian that was involved in the Japanese military somehow. It is also likely that this guardian was not very responsible, given that their environment was described as “harsh” and the sisters were once homeless at a certain point in their past; perhaps the guardian was discharged from the military.

Regardless, I believe that, despite Japan’s strict legal system that “almost never cuts parental rights”, the twins somehow up under the care of a foster family. If this so, the sisters must’ve been under the age of 6 since Japanese adoption regulations won’t allow adoptions of children older than 6. A new foster family would satisfy the fact that her family had enough money to go on a vacation despite being raised in a hostile environment. Perhaps Enoshima met Matsuda while she was with her new foster family. 

Of course, there are more possibilities for the twins’ past considering how little we know about it, but this seems more realistic and plausible than some other theories.

Now that we’ve cleared up some sketchy childhood questions, let’s talk about a bit more well-known part of Ikusaba’s past — her past as a member of the mercenary group Fenrir. As previously stated, Ikusaba somehow made her way to the Middle East to join Fenrir after she ran away during a family vacation in Europe. What happened then?

We know that Ikusaba was constantly catcalled by her fellow mercenaries. Her first FTE consists of mostly telling Naegi to not plan any sexual activities with her, claiming that “all men eventually turn into savage beasts”, “men always gather around me”, “I always have to keep them away!” This level of generalization is similar to Koizumi’s, and yet Ikusaba immediately brightens when Naegi agrees with her (we’ll find out later why).

Like any soldier, Ikusaba went through harsh experiences on the battlefield. For example, here’s a portion of her second FTE:

Ikusaba: Don't underestimate sleeping outside! It was a warzone! You never knew when some kind of enemy would attack you! Naegi: ...Warzone? Enemies? Ikusaba: I mean, there were guys preying weak and helpless girls all around. Isn't our entire world nothing but war zones and enemies? Oh, well. Since I've left that cruel life behind me I only became stronger...

Despite a young, inexperienced prepubescent female, Ikusaba somehow trained herself so that she made it out of several years on the battlefield without suffering from a single injury. Her abilities, demonstrated in Danganronpa/Zero, including dodging bullets and administrating first aid.

And despite being such a talented soldier,

Although Ikusaba was a Super High School Level Soldier, her skills were largely limited to battle. In fact, even an average high school student could probably best her in matters of war strategy and negotiation.

There’s some pretty interesting things to conclude from this revelation. First of all, both war strategy and negotiation involve foresight. In order to strategize well, you need to be able to see all possibilities in a given situation and know the results of choosing each possibility. Similarly, negotiation involves social skills and being able to make compromises that give you the most benefits. Since both skills involve insight, we can thus conclude that Ikusaba isn’t dumb, she’s not as holistic as she needs to be to be able to use those skills well.

On the other hand, Ikusaba is smart enough to manipulate her enemies into fighting each other on the battlefield (see: making Genocider and Oogami fight each other in DR:IF) and understanding of Enoshima enough to outsmart her  escape Hope’s Peak Academy with the other students in DR:IF. So she’s not dumb, she’s just too focused on one singular thing to see the big picture, which is necessary in war strategy and negotiation.

Also, a bit of trivia that might be worth noting: the kanji for her name literally translates to “corpse warblade”. It is extremely likely that Mukuro Ikusaba is a code name, not her birth name, and likely why Enoshima is so tired of explaining the “cheesy” reason she and Ikusaba don’t have the same surnames despite being twins.

After spending at least two years fighting with Fenrir, Ikusaba returned to Japan to be with her sister. Around this time, Enoshima was inspired to start “The Biggest, Most Awful, Most Tragic Event in Human History” — The Tragedy. She enlisted her sister’s help in accomplishing ultimate despair by initiating a series of unfortunate events at Hope’s Peak Academy. Enoshima enrolled both her sister and herself in Hope’s Peak Academy as the part of the 78th Class, and while attending Hope’s Peak, Ikusaba met Naegi, who would eventually change how she perceived the world.

Character

Ikusaba’s character consists of key qualities for a SHSL Soldier, yet her care for others heavily contrasts with it.

For example, she’s determined to achieve her goals. Whether it be an order from her commander or a personal one, Ikusaba makes sure her goals are completed, no matter the obstacles, making her capable of initiating change. 

And despite having the capabilities of taking initiative, Enoshima’s deprecation of Ikusaba during their childhood has transformed her into a generally submissive, shy, and not very emotionally-invested or eloquent individual. But her care for others is genuine; it’s so great that she virtually has no concern for her own safety or opinions. Her singular goal in Danganronpa/Zero is to help all of her cherished classmates escape Hope’s Peak while hesitating to betray Enoshima despite her commitment to her.

Additionally, although she can’t really see the big picture, her high detail orientation allows for near-perfection in fighting on the battlefield and executing plans.

Thus, Ikusaba’s character can be summarized into the following qualities:

Determination and commitment

Submissiveness

Focus on details

Selflessness and loyalty to others

Although these characteristics combine in negative ways (following orders blindly), the events of the Killing School Life help Ikusaba discover herself as an individual.

Killing School Life

We know that Ikusaba had never quite agreed with Enoshima’s vision of wrecking despair all over the world; however, since she wanted to guarantee her sister’s happiness, Ikusaba put aside her morality and helped her sister initiate The Tragedy.

Again, since Ikusaba’s never really had a voice for herself, Ikusaba agrees to participate in the Killing School Life disguised as her twin. I’m not sure what Ikusaba felt about sending her classmates into doom like this, but again, her devotion to Enoshima negated her love for her classmates.

Outside of her FTEs, Ikusaba doesn’t play a crucial role in the storyline — while she’s alive, that is (and she serves more as a plot point than a character postmortem). Again, acting as a loyal sister, Ikusaba does her part to make Enoshima’s plan of scaring the other students into submission successful. Following their plan, Ikusaba attacks Monokuma disguised as her sister, expecting to be imprisoned for rebelling against the headmaster; however, Enoshima releases a trap that kills Ikusaba. 

In the moments before he death, Ikusaba is shocked; why would her sister, the person she cared about the most in the world, deliberately betray her? Ikusaba dies heartbroken, not knowing that Enoshima had killed her to bring both of them what she valued the most — despair.

During her FTEs, however, we see a side of Ikusaba that we don’t really get to see until DR:IF. Ikusaba reveals that she’s emotionally sensitive, such as when Naegi worries about her. Although she’s initially shocked by Naegi’s supposed perception of her as a potential killer because she’s hurt that he sees her as a monster, Ikusaba is touched by how Naegi worries about her. Living with abusive people (including Enoshima) has resulted in Ikusaba receiving little concern from others, so she’s moved by how Naegi cares for her.

Meeting Naegi changed how Ikusaba perceived the world; previously apathetic and content with murdering for the sake of her love of the military, when Ikusaba meets Naegi, she realizes the importance of showing love and care for not only other individuals but herself. In her final FTE, she becomes motivated to search not only for her dreams but discover herself; unfortunately, she never finishes this as she is soon stabbed to death.

Danganronpa:IF

Unlike Danganronpa, DR:IF is primarily focused on Ikusaba’s narrative. It offers a great amount of insight into her character, such as her crush on Naegi and relationship with Enoshima.

DR:IF reveals that Ikusaba isn’t really aware of her thoughts and feelings — she really doesn’t realize that she likes Naegi until Enoshima points it out, and she doesn’t realize her disgruntlement as a SHSL Despair, dissatisfied with both wrecking havoc upon the world and following in her sister’s footsteps. In fact, we can easily point out that the only reason Ikusaba is involved in SHSL Despair is because Enoshima, who represents a major figure in her life, is involved. Specifically,

Mukuro Ikusaba, meanwhile, had neither hope for the world nor despair at it. At least, not while she was a member of Fenrir. She had only come to believe that she was among those who brought despair because she grew up with Junko. She had nothing against the world, and only followed her sister because she believed this was her mission.

Up until the events of DR:IF, Ikusaba’s entire world was “Enoshima, Enoshima, Enoshima”. I mean, what else would you do if you’ve never had a proper guardian to show you how to find your own purpose in life? Although Enoshima was abusive and showed little care for Ikusaba, she at least gave Ikusaba a life purpose.

When she meets Naegi, everything changes. Again, as I previously stated, she realizes the importance of showing love and care for not only other individuals but herself. When Naegi shoves her out of the way of the Spears of Gungnir, Ikusaba is spurred to action; because of her previous submissiveness, she has followed in Enoshima’s footsteps of wrecking havoc on the world. But now that her passiveness has resulted in the injury of her cherished classmate, the person who has revolutionized how she perceives the world, she can’t take it anymore; Ikusaba wants out of SHSL Despair and Enoshima’s vision. 

This is why she sacrifices almost everything that she’s ever known — Enoshima, Fenrir, SHSL Despair — in a seemingly-futile effort to defeat the SHSL Analyst and escape with all her classmates alive. And through her skills and determination, she succeeds; and when Enoshima ultimately rejects her, Ikusaba feels pain, but she’s even more motivated to fulfill Enoshima’s dream of ultimate despair for both Enoshima and herself by moving on with her betrayal. 

Summary

Mukuro Ikusaba never received much care from the people in her life, causing her to feel very apathetic about the state of the world and preventing her from developing a voice of her own. She blindly follows her dreams of serving in the military and making her sister happy, much too focused on these two goals to realize the negative effects of her unconditional loyalty and selflessness.

However, upon meeting Makoto Naegi, Ikusaba learns to care for both other individuals and herself. In Danganronpa:IF, she tests the limits of her skills and dedication in an effort to save her classmates from the cruelty of her sister, determined to find a new dream for herself after leaving behind her past.

The evolution of Ikusaba’s character in Danganronpa:IF is truly extraordinary; she transforms from someone without a voice for herself to a caring, motivated individual that abandons all she’s ever known in hopes of creating a better world.

Author’s Notes

Oh my god. This took waaaaaaayyyy longer than expected. Like how hard do you have to procrastinate on something to take almost one whole month to write? I’m really really sorry about taking this long :( Thanks to all of you for your  patience.

In all honesty, there was a lot of content to cover (and exactly why this ended up begin 2600+ words), and I felt conflicted about skipping out on the less important parts (DR3 for example, but I wasn’t a big fan of it in the first place and I like to pretend it doesn’t exist :P). Regardless, I hope that this analysis was less of a ramble that it ended up becoming and more comprehensive instead.

Anyways, the next character up for an analysis is Byakuya Togami SHSL Imposter, who I’m definitely excited to write about since he’s one of my favorite SDR2 characters. Hopefully, he’ll be done faster than poor Ikusaba.

As always, the ask box is open for any lingering questions you have. Again, thank you for reading this character analysis and your continued support of this blog! I hope you enjoyed this analysis as much as I enjoy Ikusaba’s character :)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hump day, wooooo.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Strange how you never found comfort at home. Well, it never felt like one for you. You were always just a hanger-on. A burden. 

As you enter your grandma's house, you can't help but exhale the tension you've been holding in. She's in her chair, reading, not a word at your arrival. You go into the kitchen, set on eating the frozen meal you lost your appetite for the other night. 

You peel back the corner on the tray and shove it in the microwave. As you shut the door, you nearly wince at the unexpected figure in the doorway. You don't know if you're really surprised or if Andy has you jumpy. Both. 

"Want some coffee?" You offer your grandmother, hoping to appease her. "Tea?" 

She grumbles and waves you off, shuffling across the tile in her slippers. She crosses her arms and her lip sticks out, "nice of that man to come all the way down here like that." 

You turn your attention back to the countdown and shrug, "yeah." 

"He didn't need to just for all that. For you, did he?" She prompts. Her interest both irks and worries you. She never cared about anything. "And after losing his family." 

"Right, yeah, it's tough," you twiddle your fingers at your side. 

"Don't sound so heartbroken," she scoffs, "Christ, wasn't that boy you're friend?" 

You face her as the microwave beeps, "grandma..." you can't tell her. If she even bothered to listen, she wouldn't believe you. She doesn't even know Andy and she's already taking his side. Typical. "Yeah, I'm sad. Guess I'm a bit in shock." 

You turn back and take the too hot tray out, holding back a hiss at the singe in your fingertips. You spin and cross the kitchen to grab a fork. Your grandma huffs and putters after you.  

"He sent them flowers," she says. 

You stir the noodles and cheese, "he did." 

"Fancy. Expensive." 

You don't really get why she's still harping on. She didn't put so much mind to your prom or graduation or even when you got your job. Yet you can't be surprised where she's strayed; she's always been on you about money.  

"Seems to me he's a bit lost," she says, "you're..." she weighs her words before she speaks, something she rarely does, "maybe he's tryna find some direction. He might... might wanna take care of ya." 

"Huh?" You make a face and glance at her from the corner of you eye. 

"Like, I dunno, I watch those talk shows, grief is something nasty. I would know," she goes on. You can't remember the last time you heard her talk so much. "He only got-- had the one kid. You're about the same age... maybe he's tryna, I dunno, replace what he lost." 

You nearly laugh in her face. Really? This is what she cares about? You stare at her and furrow your nose. You could tell her. You could try. She's listening. For once.  

"I don't think... it's not... I'm not his responsibility and I don't wanna be." 

"You're barely your own responsibility," she sneers, "can't see a good thing in front of you." 

"Grandma--" 

"Well? Pretty sure there's more where those flowers came from," he tuts, "you got a few hard lessons to learn, girlie. 

You look down at the macaroni. You're not hungry anymore. You grab the tray and walk away. 

"Yeah, well, maybe you shoulda tried to teach me some, huh?" You toss over your shoulder and stomp out of the kitchen. 

You go into your room and kick your door shut. How is he doing this? How is everyone, even a woman who hasn't lived in reality for twenty years, on his side? 

You put the tray and fork down and go to the other side of the bed. You sit facing the window and drop your head into your hands. The only person you have is too far away. Besides, you don't want to drag her into this. Not any more than you already have. 

🎮

For once, you’re anxious to get to work. You welcome the distraction from everything else; debt, grandma, and the biggest problem of all, the one you won’t even name. You stroll up to the ice cream booth as Luis stands outside the window, chatting to Jessie as she stands at her vigil inside. You frown. You don’t see the manager often. Only when he hired you. 

“Ah, there she is,” Luis spots you and waves you over, “right on time.” 

As he checks his watch you pull out your phone. You’re early, like always. His presence is more than a coincidence. You have this ripply feeling in your stomach. You black your phone and cross your arms, hiding it under your elbow. 

“Hi, how’s everything going?” You ask as you approach the kiosk. 

“Everything’s great,” Luis smirks, “sunshine’s out, customers too.” 

You glance around. The picnic tables are mostly full. It is the perfect weather for a scoop. 

“Yeah, gonna be a busy shift,” you pander with a smile. 

“Hey,” Luis wags his finger as if remembering something, “before you start, let’s have a chat.” 

“Oh, alright,” you agree. 

He waves you away from the window as more customers approach. You follow him to one of the tables. You wait for him to sit before you do the same. He looks around from behind his black lenses and tilts to reach into his back pocket. He slides out his phone and brings it forward to cradle in both hands. 

“So uh, how are you liking it? The work?” He asks. 

You’re uneasy. You stare at his cell then look him in the face. 

“It’s good. Steady,” you answer as you keep your own phone in your lap. 

“Mhmm,” he hums and once more glances around, “look, this is never easy but I got a complaint--” 

You blink slowly. You’re not surprised. You figured it would happen. Still, you thought maybe Andy might be above that. Or anything at all. 

“Obviously, I take these things seriously. This business is all about customer service, especially with the Dairy Queen down the block,” he explains, “but I do try to give the benefit of the doubt. I checked the cameras.” He pauses for effect as you shrink down, “you closed the window.” 

You sigh and heave out a breath, “I did.” 

“You know we don’t do that,” he reprimands. 

“Sir, I know but... the customer... he wasn’t a customer. He’s... bothering me.” 

He pokes his tongue into his cheek and scratches his neck, “oh? Didn’t look like that type. When I spoke to him, he didn’t even seem upset. He just asked me to check in, really, but it’s not his shop. He don’t gotta worry about the bottom line. I do.” 

“It won’t happen again,” you wisp out. 

“I know it won’t,” he says. 

You sit, waiting for him to continue. He just stares at you. You shake your head. No. 

“Sorry, I gotta let you go.” 

“What? It’s my first complaint--” 

“This is an ice cream shop, how many of those do you think we get? Not very hard to keep the people happy so if you’re getting unhappy customers, well, that’s all I need to know.” 

“Please, Luis, I need this job--” 

“Shouldn’t have closed the window. I’m sorry. That’s the one rule.’ 

“God, I--” you huff and snarl, “whatever. Fine.” You stand and untie your apron, “get your bottom line.” 

You toss the apron on the table and swipe up your bag. You turn without waiting for another empty apology. Fuck. It’s shitty but hey, there’s always the DQ and now you have experience, right? 

🎮

You fill out an application for the Dairy Queen and a few other places. Your job hunt has been chronic as it is. It’s only that your search for a second gig, is now back to square one. You have only your last check coming to you before you’re digging into your meagre savings; the money meant for tuition. 

Your grandma is back to living in her novels. Good. You didn’t realise until before how much you preferred it. 

As you close yourself in your room, your phone vibrates. You look down at the message. It’s him. He’s been messaging, still thinking he might talk you into it. He is a lawyer but this isn’t his court. This is your life. 

How pathetic. A grown man meddling in the affairs of a nineteen-year-old. If you could let go of the catfishing, everything else has assured you of his character. You flop onto your bed and swipe away his texts. 

You wallow there for a while. In self-pity, in futility, in listlessness. You don’t know what to do. Everything is at a standstill. You have no job, you don’t know if you can pay for next semester, let alone the year, and you’re stuck in this deadbeat town. 

You put on a video to try to drown out the incessant anxiety. Today, you’re just going to let yourself sink. You can deal with everything tomorrow. You close your eyes and yawn, drifting into a haze that makes your head fuzzy. 

You’re roused by another vibe of your phone. You ignore it. He’s not going to get an answer. He can keep skirting around your blocks but you’re not wasting your energy. You’ve told him enough times to leave you alone. He has to get bored eventually. 

You roll over and bury your head in the pillow. You hear your grandma clunking around in the kitchen. You hate this place. You hate your life. The more you think about it, you can’t deny how horrible it really is, especially in the shadow of your dwindling future. 

What did you do to deserve this? You’re a good person. At least, you’ve always tried to be. It feels like a lot of karma for that Twizzler you stole when you were eight. 

Your grandmother keeps up the racket and your phone keeps on buzzing. You flip over and sit up. You snatch up the phone and stop yourself from flicking your thumb sideways. It isn’t him. It’s Kara. You never did call her back. 

You answer and put her on speaker, “hey, sup?”  

“Hey,” her voice is shaky, “uh, I don’t know.” 

“What?” You sit up straighter, “is everything--” your voice trails off as you listen to the commotion on her end; chatter you can’t make out, movement obscured through the speaker, “what do you mean you don’t know?” 

“The cops are here,” she murmurs, “I don’t know. They just showed up. Said they got a call from the landlord or something. Cause it’s the property owner, they can just come in or whatever. I don’t know, I don’t know...” Her voice quivers with panic, “me and Calvin were just hanging out...” 

“That’s... why would they--” 

“Shoot, I think...” she lowers her voice, “they must’ve found his stash. Shit, shit.” 

“Kara?” Your heart races as you try to keep track of what’s going. 

“Miss, can you please hang up the call? We need to question you,” a deep voice interjects. 

“One second, I’m just on the phone with--” 

“Miss, hang up or you’ll be charged with obstruction.” 

The line cuts and you gape at your phone. What the hell? You try to dial back, the call rolls through but doesn’t pick up. You try again and again. You get out of bed and pace, texting Kara helplessly. Shit, shit! How is this happening? Over what? A tiny dime bag? Everyone smokes, not that you’re the biggest fan. Too smelly for you. 

You put your hand to your forehead. What do you do? You can probably get a bus ticket. Even if you get to her, the bond is going to be way more than you can afford. You doubt you’ll even be able to scrape it together.  

Do you call her parents? No, they’d kill her, then she’d kill you. 

You shake as your legs turn to jello. You sit back down and close your eyes. Holy crap, this can’t be real.  

Your phone vibrates. It doesn’t stop. You look down at the incoming call. Unknown Caller. You’re not stupid. You know it’s him and his timing assures you he had something to do with this. This isn’t a coincidence. Those don’t exist. If there was any sort of luck in this world, you would have found some by now. 

“What?” You put the phone to your ear and snarl. 

“I can help your friend,” he says. 

You’re silent. You want to scream at him. You want to swear at him. You want to call him every nasty word you can. But this isn’t about you, not just you. You brought Kara into this mess, even if you never meant to. You won’t let her pay for your stupidity. 

“Meet me at Oxford and Maris. There’s a restaurant--” 

“Fine,” you snip and hang up. 

You lower your phone and shudder. He won. Given his career, he must be used to that. 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Hue and Cry XIX

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), trauma, violence, attempted assault, some elements untagged.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: The reader finds herself at an impasse.

Note: Things are heating up and we're starting to go full force over here <3

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

MASTERLIST

Days passed in idle anticipation. You kept Elina locked up with you and she grew more restless by the hour. When Lord Zemo came at night, she was happier but your sense of dread and impatience only grew. When the retinue arrived, you only wanted them to leave, but knowing who was roaming just floors below, you were anxious to strike first.

The baron was ever the voice of sense. Zemo was no beacon of morality, you knew that, but his honesty made him respectable. You considered how blatant he was in his intentions as compared to those other noblemen who painted their bad deeds as gifts. Perhaps he wasn’t entirely trustworthy but he didn’t trying to make you think otherwise.

You did your best to keep your daughter occupied with her many toys and quiet songs hummed out of tune. You bounced her on your hip as best you could with your cane in your other hand and crawled around with her like a dog. She was only calm when she slept as she longed for the sunlight that taunted her through the window.

You began to wonder how long the men would stay; how long you would be expected to stay hidden. Zemo mentioned vengeance and you dreamt of it every night. It was the only thing that kept you from quaking in fear and panic.

Tess brought your dinner and you placed it on the low table and sat on the floor with Elina and ate. You gave her tiny morsels to chew on or toss back at you. She was an energetic kid, stubborn and strong, and seemed to find fun in even the most dull tasks. You hoped she would grow up to be happier than you. Surely, she’d be more bold and more blessed.

As you chewed on some chicken, you heard that familiar knock on the door. Tess always gave a tiny tap and called through the wood but Zemo always gave that rhythmic beating. It was the latter, he was early that day. It made you worry as you left Elina to squeeze a piece of sweet potato and stood with your can dug into the wood.

You crossed to the door and turned the latch slowly. You opened the door and leaned heavily on the wooden stick, “well, you are earl--” your voice hung in the air as you stared at the familiar face, though it wasn’t Zemo.

You pushed the door but the man caught it and kept it two inches from the frame as he came closer. Peter’s hand trembled as he clung to the wood and gaped at you. He shook his head and blinked dumbly. The two years had given his face character and his shoulders a little more width.

“You’re alive?” he breathed.

“You can’t-- you have to go,” you pushed the door with a grunt, “please, go.”

“I thought… I thought you were dead,” he croaked, “I thought I--”

“Go away. Please!” you begged, “I can’t talk to you.”

“Or you won’t talk to me?” he challenged as he shoved his foot between the door and the frame, “how--”

“How did you find me?” you gasped.

He lowered his eyes and guiltily and clamped his lips shut. He sniffed and looked at you again, “I thought Zemo was hiding something from us. I followed him last night and listened… I couldn’t hear anything, I only saw him come here and knock.”

“No one else can know,” you said, “you can’t-- please go and don’t tell anyone.”

“I wouldn’t but-- I want to talk to you,” he insisted.

“You can’t. It’s too dangerous,” you argued, “you must go. If Zemo discovers you--”

“I don’t care if he does. Don’t you understand, I--I-- I thought I killed you.”

You were silent as you stared into his face. You saw the pain in his eyes, the shock laced with relief. But it was all tinted with the guilt he’d carried since that day. The false guilt you’d given him.

“I’m sorry, Peter, it was the only way out--”

“My aunt cried everyday for you and she never let me forget what you said to me. I never could forget,” he hissed.

“I know, but you have to--” Elina made a noise as she came over and clung to your leg, smearing food down your skirt. Peter looked at her and his lips parted in surprise, “no one can know about her.”

He nodded and gulped. He looked up and down the corridor. “I wouldn’t tell but I can’t go until we talk, I…” his voice cracked, “I need to tell you I was wrong. I lied.”

“El,” you bent to wipe her face and lifted her, “please, stay here,” you bid Peter as you turned and hobbled across the room.

You placed her in her cot, thought she only began to fuss, but you shoved a stuffed caribou into her hands and left her to poke its eyes. You went back to the door and found Peter staring at your cane.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, “that’s my fault,” he nodded to the cane, “and that,” he looked to the scar down your face, “I saw it. I tried to follow you that day but I wasn’t fast enough and you were--”

“No, it wasn’t you. I said it was because I could. I couldn’t tell the man who made me do this so I told you instead. That was unfair and unkind,” you blinked away tears, “and I hurt more than just myself.”

He mulled your words and picked at his sleeve. He dressed finer than the last you’d met, “I didn’t mean what I said to Barnes. You were sweet to me and my aunt told me what you were, he told me you were worse, but I didn’t truly care. I only knew he was hurting you and I was making that worse so I thought if I stayed away, he’d stop.”

“No one can stop him. No one. Those men, they cannot be stopped. They are evil in the flesh, they are borne to greed and cruelty. They only see what they can get, not what they can give because they won’t ever be denied--”

You heard a clamor, the pounding of footsteps from the stairway, and the frantic breathing of whoever was approaching. You opened the door further and pulled Peter inside. You shut the door and leaned against it with him as you listened and watched through the crack.

“Away, away,” you heard Melinda’s airy pleas as she swept past your door, “please, sir, away!”

“I just want to play a little game,” the deep voice made your blood curdle then the realisation of what he was doing made it boil even hotter. You gripped your cane as Peter frowned at you, “come here, pet, I don’t bite.”

Melinda squeaked as Lord Rogers’ footsteps slowed and you heard the struggle that followed. The muffled collision of her body against the wall, the small girl’s broken breath as it was knocked from her, and his lewd growl as he pounced.

You pushed Peter away from you and tore open the door. They were closer than you thought. Just against the wall opposite your room. Lord Rogers’ body shielded the girl’s body almost entirely. You raised your cane without a second thought and brought it down on his shoulders.

As he exclaimed and staggered, you hit him again, the time in the back of the head. You swooped your cane down and banged his knees so that he fell onto the stone. You hit him again in the side as he wheezed and you stood over him.

“Bastard! Bastard!” you hit him as the young maid and the other lord watched in shock, “how dare you? You beast!”

Peter grabbed your arm and stopped you as Rogers rolled onto his back and coughed. He groaned as he reached to his head and you were pulled away from him. You struggled with Peter as you wanted badly to hit him again.

“Melinda,” you said as you struggled, “go fetch the baron. Now!”

She skittered off like a mouse, careful to tiptoe around Rogers as he sat up and gripped his right shoulder where you’d hit him. He chuckled as he looked up at you. He grinned beneath the trickle of blood on his lips.

“Oh, well, what a treat this is,” he mocked, “the whore lives.”

“You’re vile,” you snarled, “I should bash you like the snake you are.”

“Parker,” he spoke to the man at your side, “hold her for me.” He grunted as he pushed himself up and stumbled a little on his feet, “let us remind her of who she is… oh, Barnes might come out of his rooms for this.”

He reached to his belt but Peter let you go. You looked over at him and he crossed his arms and shrugged. You gripped your cane tight and swung it again. The strike caught Lord Rogers across his chin and the next in the tender flesh of his side. You jabbed his chest so he was again on his back but he could barely get his arms up to keep away the storm of blows.

When he was limp and prone before you, you slowly lowered the cane. You quivered as you stared down at what you’d done. His breaths came in rattles. You leaned on your right leg as your left shook and you lifted the carefully carved stick.

You pulled the silver topper until it dislodged and revealed the long silver blade. Peter caught your wrist as you raised the dagger.

“Don’t, it’ll change you. It’ll make you as bad as him,” he whispered.

You looked at him and your hand shook. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks and you heard Elina murmuring, louder and louder as she wondered where you were. You sheathed the knife and plunked your cane down on the stone.

Footsteps drew you back to the end of the corridor as Zemo appeared from the stairwell. His face dropped as he saw you standing over Rogers. He took a breath but did not look angry.

“Well, I did hope to delay this a little longer,” he said as he approached, “but that Rogers was ever the petulant pest.”

“I’m sorry, he--”

“Oh, I can guess at it,” he nodded to Melinda as she followed meekly behind him, “I’d have done it myself if I had the displeasure of witnessing his lechery.” He came up to Peter and stopped, “but I will do what I must.”

“He won’t hurt us,” you said, “Peter… isn’t like them.”

“But he is loyal to his kingdom,” he pointed at Peter’s chest harshly.

“I am a viscount. Not a duke or earl even. I serve men like that on the floor because I have to, not because I want to,” Peter countered, “I have no lealty to the men who leave women like this.” He looked at you and bowed his head, “but I will admit I am not innocent of it.”

Zemo looked at you and stilled your hand as it was still shaking. "Do you vouch for him, lady?"

"He is a good man. If anything, I have drawn him unjustly into this mess," you said, "I knew you wanted to wait longer--"

"No use in apologies," Zemo grasped your shoulder and squeezed, "this stalemate would not have lasted forever. I am not entirely unprepared."

Elina began to bawl and Zemo brushed past you. He returned with her in his arms, rocking her until she quieted. He cradled her cheek with a mournful gaze and his lips curved for just a moment.

"Be quick, we must leave before the moon. We will move the lord out of the corridor and be away before they can discover him," he said, "by the morning, the castle should be empty but for our foreign visitors and it will take them some time to return to their home with news of such catastrophe."

"Is he dead?" you asked as you looked at Rogers' boots.

"An ox like him? Not yet, just annoyingly on the precipice," Zemo replied, "if we're fortunate, he'll have some lingering detriment but we cannot kill him. That would be an unforgivable mistake."

You heard a grumble and a croaky chuckle. Zemo turned and you looked down on the dazed duke.

"That is a beautiful girl," Lord Rogers rasped, "looks like her father."

Zemo's pupils turned to pinpoints and he handed you Elina. He bent and knocked Rogers across the cheek so that his head bounced off the stone. The baron shook out his hand as he stood straight and his nostrils flared.

"Lord Parker, was it?" He looked to Peter, "help me move him. We haven't time to spare."