#this also works wonders with a chloroform soaked rag

[whumpbug]

slightly hyper-specific trope but i totally adore sedative whump with a distressed whumpee. like. okay listen.

whumpee is in a super high stress situation, but they need to be subdued for whatever reason. personally, my mind goes to a whumpee being arrested or taken by the authorities while freaking out for whatever reasons, and they can’t get whumpee to calm down and stop thrashing against the restraints. cue whumpee being stuck with a needle filled with some kind of sedative or relaxant. whumpee’s panicked screams and gasps and struggling slowly start to lessen as they realize how heavy their eyelids are and how fuzzy their head feels. they blink more frequently, trying to clear their hazy vision. their speech becomes more slurred and garbled, and they aren’t even sure if they’re getting the words out. they’re still fighting against whoever is holding them down, but they are so uncoordinated that they can hardly do anything as hands guide them to wherever they needed to go in the first place. after a few more moments, their head begins lolling to the side and their eyes become impossible to keep open as they lose the fight against sleep that their body is pulling them under.

ugh! (˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ ) just something about a whumpee unable to fight against their own body’s call for unconsciousness makes me insane and i love it so much.

[bimboboylink]

Hey hey! Good morning, afternoon, evening! Can I request uhh where Kurt is just obsessed with [y/n] to the point he started stalking him to the point that he kidnapped her with his car when he finds out that she's seeing someone? Ty ty! You can decide what's gonna happen in the end though. Thank you again!

It's cool! My go to is male reader anyways ^^ Hope you enjoy this, I added some small spice but nothing to big like full on smut, I also added a little more depth to the plot, like, reader has a shitty ex (if you see this, you know who you are) >:3 Btw, I now know how being stalked feels, so- fun :D

"Obsession"

WARNINGS: Stalking - Smoking - Kidnapping - Mentioned Death

Pairings: Stalker! Kurt Kunkle X Male Reader

Recently your best friend Kurt had been...weirder than usual. He started acting more off than normal after you told him you had a lover. At first he had bombarded you with questions about them, "do they treat you right?", "do they respect boundaries?" and the weirdest "have they touched you?" There were plenty more questions, but those were the ones repeated the most.

You answered most his questions, thinking he was just curious, the poor guy has probably had very few, if any relationships. (Though you never knew why, he was quite cute, and could clean up nice)

After that he seemed a little more distant, always working on "filming ideas" and other stuff while you were over, almost ignoring you, which was the strangest bit because he used to cling to you like you were his favorite toy!!

It kinda upset you...You really did love how he clinged to you, hugging you, cuddling you, even if he was working, it was a lot more affection than your significant other gave you........ what were you thinking?! You have a lover! You can't be fawning over your bff! Even if your current lover was sucky..

What you didn't know was that Kurt was planning your kidnapping. How he was planning to kill your pathetic excuse of a lover, how he planned on kidnapping you, how he planned everything. From how he would fake a double date plan just to get you out, to how he planned on making your disappearance seem almost non-existent to the outside world.

He even had your phone linked to his, he could see everything you do, the messages you sent, you calendar plans, your alarms. He used it to his advantage, he stalked you at your job, your classes, he was everywhere, and you had no clue. You knew you were being watched, but as most would think, you thought you were just paranoid.

You were at a club, waiting on said lover to show up, they said they were gonna bring 2 of their other friends for a "double date". You never liked their friends, but if it got you a date with your significant other. It had been 40 minutes since they messaged you they were on their way. After 30, you gave up and stepped outside, lighting up a half-burnt cigarette from your wallet, smoking the rest of it as you waited 10 more minutes.

You really gave up after that, going for ordering a Spree, not even checking the driver as you put your phone away, starting to wonder around the parking lot as you waited.

Kurt was your driver, he had been waiting in the parking lot all night, planning this ever since he found out about your "lover", Kurt always thought something was wrong with the way they treated you. Even he's barely been in a relationship and he knows it!

He got the notification and desperately looked for you, soon seeing you pacing just a few cars in front of him. He put on his only black hoodie, pulling the hood up and getting out, closing the door as softly as he can to not get your attention.

He snuck up behind you and used the chloroform soaked rag, covering your mouth and nose. You had tried to shout, but it was no use.

"shh, shh, I-I'm so sorry, but this is the b-best"

You tried to say his name before passing out, Kurt holding you and shushing you, rubbing your back even though you couldn't do anything. He picked you up bridal style and carried you to his car, laying you gently in his back seat, taking his sweatshirt off and laying it over your upper body.

He closed the door and got in the driver's seat, his normal cameras filming, the led lights out and his phone set in the passenger seat, opened to messages to you. Except, they weren't "his" messages exactly. But hey, he had you pretty convinced he was them.

He started the drive to his house, it not being to far as he didn't wanna make things harder on himself. He looked back every once in a while as you stirred in the seats of his car.

He let out a shaky breath as he parked in his drive way, getting out and moving to open the door near your head. You stirred a bit more, it seemed you were having a bad dream has you had started crying at some point.

Kurt slightly panicked at this and quickly picked you up bridal style again. He looked down at you, your breathing evened out a bit as you clung to Kurt.

Kurt let out a sigh and slowly closed his car doors, making sure to grab his keys and phone, occasionally adjusting his sweatshirt on you. He walked to his front door and opened it, having to slam it with his foot, looking down to make sure he didn't wake you.

You only stirred a bit again, nuzzling your face into Kurt's bicep more. He nodded to himself and started mumbling, walking to his room he set you on his bed softly, going to lock his door.

He sat near you on the bed and tied your hands behind your back and your ankles to your thighs. The knots weren't the best, but it would hold well enough...hopefully.

Now he had to prepare himself to wake you. Would you hate him? What if you went to the police and reported him?! He'd have to kill you then, and that's something he never wants to do.

You stirred a little aggressively. He snapped his head to look at you, eyes blown wide as saucers as he watched you. Your eyes twitched and slowly opened, having to adjust to the bright blue and green leds of Kurt's room.

You remembered what happened and thrashed around, desperately looking around. Your eyes met Kurt's and you were reminded that you heard his voice before blacking out. You panicked even more.

Was he gonna kill you?! Oh god, no, all the years of being friends and helping him down the drain, you even helped with #TheLesson, no matter how weird it was to you!!!

You teared up and started sobbing, letting out pleas, begging him to let you live. He quickly got closer to you, holding you close as you sobbed, your tears soaking part of his shirt.

"P-Please don't kill me, please, I'll d-do anything Kurt!! Please!!"

Kurt was upset that you thought he would kill you. He grabbed your face gently and had you look at him, his face holding soft features.

"I don't w-wanna kill you [F/N], I couldn't imagine k-killing you..."

He mustered up what little courage he had in his body and kissed your lips, it was weird, and oddly tense more on Kurt's side, but you kissed back after a bit, your sobs slowly dying down to sniffle as you both just sat there, holding the kiss for as long as you could.

He eventually pulled back, looking anywhere but your eyes. He teared up a bit and let you go, your body slouching lower onto his stomach and lap.

"I-I love you.."

God, those 3 words. Your eyes went wide and you looked up at him, processing them. Once you had, you clung to him the best you could, tied up and all. You nuzzled into his lower abdomen.

"I love you t-to Kurt.'

He was shocked. You said it back? You said it back!! He quickly turned ecstatic, clinging to you and grabbing at you quickly as he held you close.

He let out small noises of excitement, something he often did with you since he was so comfortable. You smiled at him as he held you close, he started to kiss your face before quickly pulling back, dropping you as you let out a huff.

"I-I'm sorry!! I didn't ask if t-that was okay!!"

You could clearly hear the panic in his voice, his body starting to sweat and heat up. Something common that happened when his anxiety spiked.

You shushed him the best you could from your tied up position on his bed. You smiled up at him and lovingly rubbed your head against his legs.

He quickly looked down at you. More panic setting in as he realized he dropped you, you cut him off before he could apologize or say anything.

"It is perfectly okay to kiss me babe, I promise you"

He picked you up again and started to untie you, as soon as the knots were undone you stretched a bit, your bones popping and groaning as you smiled at him, holding him afterwards.

You peppered kisses all over his face, his happy sounds of excitement from earlier coming back as he flushed slightly from the kisses. You stopped and pulled back.

He slowly peppered kisses on your face, still unsure. You smiled brightly as he did so, grabbing one of his hands and holding it, stroking your thumb over the top of his hand.

You leaned forward and hugged him tightly, him almost falling backwards as he quickly steadied himself with one hand, the other holding you.

"I guess I'm your obsession, Kurtie"

Tags: @kurtsword96 I hope you like this! ^^

[asflowersfade]

Ficlet: While You Were Sleeping

A MacGyver ficlet, a missing scene from ep 204. Even though it’s gen, I would rate it mature because it’s told from Murdoc’s POV and his train of thoughts is rather... disturbing.

How did Mac get from his house where Murdoc tased him to that underground room? Murdoc’s POV.

He shouldn’t linger, Murdoc knows, but as he stands there, in the entry hall of MacGyver’s house, and watches the man in question twitch and gasp on the floor with the aftershocks of the Taser discharge, the feeling’s quite exhilarating. Almost… orgasmic in nature. Or, at least he thinks that’s what orgasm feels like to other people, he’s never understood the appeal himself. But when Angus makes a soft sound of pain, Murdoc licks his lips under his mask. Beautiful…

“Hey, we should hurry up!” says one of the men behind him, peeking nervously out of the half-open door.

Murdoc sighs inwardly. Ah, yes, his henchmen. He didn’t really need them for a simple smash-n-grab but he thought it would make the whole thing easier, faster. He thought wrong, apparently, because the longer he spends in their company, the stronger his urge to rid the world of these two idiots. Well, at least he might use them to get the expected pursuit off his tail.

Dropping into a crouch, Murdoc tilts his head sideways and watches Angus jerk with involuntary muscle spasms. The man can’t really move, his coordination is shot, but he’s not out yet. As Murdoc suspected the Taser didn’t knock MacGyver unconscious. Never mind, he came prepared.

He thought long and hard about it while planning this little stint, about how he would do it. With chloroform or a syringe? Because knocking someone out with chloroform can be so… intimate, pressing the soaked rag against your victim’s face, holding it there while the person struggles to get you off, to hold their breath... On the other hand, using a syringe is so much cleaner and watching the needle penetrate skin… marvelous.

In the end, he chose the syringe. And now, as he pulls it out of his pocket and uncaps it, as he sees MacGyver’s eyes flicker towards it, a momentary flash of panic turning their blue shade even more vivid, Murdoc knows he chose right.

With a whispered, “Goodnight,” he plunges the needle into Angus’ neck and that exhilarating feeling that seized him when he tased MacGyver kicks up a notch as he watches the man’s eyes flutter closed, as he hears him stutter, “N-no…” before his whole body goes limp and he finally loses consciousness. Yes, very beautiful.

There’s a shuffle of feet behind him, his men are making impatient noises, and it drags him out of his pleasant haze. He’ll truly have to kill those two for ruining his moment like that, he decides. But not now, not here.

Patting MacGyver down, Murdoc pulls the infamous Swiss Army knife out of his pocket - it takes some wiggling because Angus is curled up on his side - then he gets up and turns to his men. “Take him to the van,” he orders but when they start moving, he snaps a warning, “But carefully. I don’t want him damaged. I see one bruise and it’s coming off your pay.”

One of the men - Murdoc doesn’t know their names, they’re not important - looks at him and his eyes, the only thing visible behind his mask, reflect confusion. “I thought you wanted this guy dead.”

Murdoc grins. “Oh, I do. I can’t wait to take him apart and make him scream, but until then, I don’t want a single scratch on him!” The coldness in his voice makes it known that he’s very serious about that.

With Angus’ red knife in his hand, Murdoc steps back and watches the men carry MacGyver out and to the van idling in the driveway. Then he takes one last look around and starts following them - only to stop with his hand on the doorknob. He lingers there for a heartbeat, then two… and then he turns and heads inside, moving deeper into the house, because he just can’t resist snooping around a little, learning more about Angus.

In the kitchen, he finds the fridge broken - so that’s what Angus was doing when they rang the bell, smart, handy Angus - and also MacGyver’s phone, lying on the table. He picks it up and scrolls through the recent calls. Six of them and all to Jack Dalton - who hasn’t called back once. Interesting. Downright intriguing!

And that gives him an idea.

Originally, he planned on just snatching MacGyver and leaving his team to wonder who took him, where their genius boy disappeared to. But if dear Angus and his wannabe keeper had a squabble - Jackie Boy did leave MacGyver all alone in Paris, after all - letting Dalton know exactly who grabbed his charge would twist the sharp knife of guilt even deeper. Jack could’ve prevented this after all, if only he picked up his phone…

Yes, Murdoc will leave a present behind. And he hopes that it’ll be Jack Dalton who finds it. It’s just too bad he won’t be there to see Jackie Boy’s reaction!

He tells them to drive carefully, no speeding, no red lights crossed. The last thing Murdoc needs now is a tangle with the cops. Not that he would have any qualms to murder every interfering idiot, but it would... complicate things.

“So, what makes this guy so special?” one of the henchmen says, the one riding shotgun, turning in his seat and looking back at Murdoc and their “package” lying unconscious on the floor of the van. “What did rich boy here do to you, man? Stole your girlfriend?” he adds with a lewd smirk.

Murdoc, who’s sitting on the floor in the back of the van next to Angus, glares at the man in the passenger seat. Money and sex, that’s all these shallow creatures care about. They wouldn’t understand that it’s Angus’ brain, his ingenuity that sets him apart from the rest of the humankind. That makes him so interesting to Murdoc.

The man drops his eyes to MacGyver, whose head lolls a little to the side when they take a curve a little too sharply, and his lecherous grin spreads even wider. “He sure is pretty enough.”

And in that moment, Murdoc decides he’ll kill them, these men, as soon as they arrive at their escape vehicle. He planned on letting them live a little longer, use them to set the Phoenix Foundation team on a wild goose chase, but no. He’ll just get rid of them and adjust his plan accordingly. The thought that these two had their hands on Angus turns Murdoc’s revulsion sharper, deeper, makes it taste like bile. He doesn’t feel just disdain for them, it’s downright hate.

Murdoc looks down at MacGyver, still unconscious, and doesn’t answer.

He shoots them dead the moment they step out of the van. A bullet to the back of the head, execution style. He squashes them like the bugs they are and leaves them lying right there, on the dirty floor of the warehouse.

Having arrived at his destination, Murdoc picks MacGyver, still unconscious, up and throws him over his shoulder. With his hands gripping Angus’ thighs, he lets the man’s arms dangle freely - and once again he marvels at how heavy Angus is. He looks so slim, even thin, yet he’s all muscle. It shouldn’t surprise Murdoc - MacGyver used to be a soldier and he’s an agent now, after all - yet somehow, it does. But then, Angus MacGyver has proven to be a surprising creature in general.

He carries the man through empty halls and down dark corridors until he arrives at the door of the room he specifically chose for this. There, he takes MacGyver down the stairs and carefully drops him down into a chair, a little winded now but also pleased to see the man still hasn’t woken up yet. Yes, he chose the dosage perfectly.

The click of the handcuffs tying MacGyver down to his chair sends a shiver of pleasure down Murdoc’s spine and he remains crouched there, in front of his prisoner a moment longer, just staring up at him. He knows that for his plan to work, MacGyver has to escape the cage he set up for him, he’s aware that all this, as much fun as it’s been so far, is just a set up for a much bigger play, the groundwork for his initiative of killers, but…

Getting up slowly, Murdoc grips Angus’ chin in his hand and lifts the man’s head up; he doesn’t resist. To have someone as strong and smart and resourceful as MacGyver in his hands, under his control, so fully… it’s a real rush and quite addictive, too. It makes Murdoc feel powerful. He could cut Angus open, break his bones, do anything he wanted… and that thought is rather electrifying in its potency. It’s almost, almost enough to make him reconsider his plan.

Almost.

He lets go and MacGyver’s head lolls, his chin dropping to his chest. Murdoc licks his lips again but with a firm grip he gets himself under control. He can still have fun with Angus, sleepy Angus caught in a trap, but he needs to think of the bigger picture here.

With practiced ease, Murdoc inserts the IV into MacGyver’s forearm, rubbing the spot where the needle entered the vein a little, then harder when Angus, even unconscious, makes a soft sound of pain. Murdoc’s eyes gleam. Not now, not today, but one day soon… soon he’ll get to play with MacGyver the way he truly wants to. Oh yes. And it’ll be truly magnificent, that slow, prolonged torture, planned in minute detail as it will be.

With one last look at his unconscious prisoner, Murdoc leaves the room. The stage is set. Let the game begin.

[void-writing]

Poison Immunties

poison immunities are a thing for some dnd characters (circle of the land druids, monks, etc.) and i’ve been wondering just how EXTENSIVE that kind of immunity would be (both in dnd and in stories in general) because painkillers like morphine and opioids are technically poisons, so would characters with poison immunity also be immune to those in addition to more definitively deadly poisons like arsenic and snake venom?

caffeine and capsaicin are poisons, so would they be immune to the effects of caffeine and would spicy food just not be spicy to them anymore?

alcohol is technically a poison too, so would they be entirely unable to get drunk (or get liver cancer and other alcohol-related diseases...actually maybe they could still get that one...) even if they down a whole bottle of whiskey?

chloroform is a poison too and a traditional tool in movies for knocking people out, so would a character with poison immunity be able to just shrug off the effects? (fun fact! a non-lethal dose of chloroform takes at least 5 minutes to take effect and since it’s a volatile chemical, it loses potency when exposed to air, so the classic “chloroform-soaked rag over the mouth immediately knocking someone out” trope--unsurprisingly--isn’t accurate. thanks hollywood)

because that’d be a VERY INTERESTING thing to play with in stories where it would apply.

(i’m going to put the rest of this under a cut bc this got LONG)

like...a poison immune character could need a surgery of some kind for plot related reasons (they’re getting their wisdom teeth taken out or their appendix or whatever) but the pain killers they’re prescribed afterwards don’t work even if the general anesthesia did (since i haven’t found any source classifying it as a poison) so that character is just left with nothing but to suffer through the pain or find alternate sources of relief since they could down an entire bottle of painkillers but feel absolutely nothing.

in a similar vein: medications. medications can be poisonous in high doses, so would poison immunity just blanket make a person immune to EVERYTHING that could chemically alter things in their body since poisons at their core are chemical reactions (even though there are MANY kinds of chemical reactions that occur in the body that are totally fine)? because with medication, the dose makes the poison, so would the character’s immunity just decide their anti-depressants or their sleep aids or their cold medicine are poison because they have the potential to be and not allow them to take effect at all? (this one’s probably a stretch and then some, but it might be a fun idea to think about story-wise)

and sedatives! i know i said i didn’t find anything to indicate that general anesthesia is poisonous, but there’s more than one chemical out there that can knock someone out (see chloroform and morphine, both of which are capable of giving someone breathing problems and killing in high enough doses). so maybe general anesthesia doesn’t work for a poison immune character after all or maybe someone tries to use a sedative on that character but it doesn’t take in the slightest (though if it’s the “chloroform rag over the mouth” routine, suffocation is still a major threat even if the chloroform isn’t).

that can give the opportunity for some really badass moments (or just some comedic ones depending on how you spin it).

like the classic poisoned drink or meal. say an antagonist slips some random deadly poison into the poison immune protagonist’s food/drink or even their friend’s food/drink, but the protagonist saw and consumes said poisoned meal while making direct eye contact with the antagonist, who watches on in horror as the poison does absolutely diddly squat. for comedic purposes, the protagonist doesn’t notice the antagonist spike their food with poison and just happily eats it, once again, much to the horror of the antagonist who expected the protag to be writhing in agony or loopy af but they’re totally fine and blissfully unaware that their food was even spiked at all. (additionally this would make them totally immune to roofies, which is a total plus)

on that note, for like...the past three days i’ve been imagining a scene where the antagonist for whatever reason has presented a pair of protagonists (one with a poison immunity and the other without) an ultimatum: one of them must drink this glass full of incredibly deadly poison that will kill you quickly but painfully or [insert bad thing here] will happen. and there’s this incredibly solemn moment where non-poison immune protag is wrestling with the idea of accepting their death in order to save many others including their friend, when said friend solemnly declares they’ll take the hit. non-poison immune protag tries to stop poison immune one but their mind is made up and the antagonist watches gleefully as poison immune protag hesitantly (for the purpose of drama) picks up the glass, only for them to slam it back like a tequila shot and go “whoa, that has a real kick to it! what is this? blue ring octopus? geez that takes me back. hey, got any more?” while both non-poison immune protag and the antagonist are staring at poison immune protag who is very much not dead or showing any adverse effects from downing a shot glass full of poison. and then non-poison immune protag face palms and goes “ohhhh right. i forgot about you immunity to poison” much to the antagonist’s mounting horror as they realize that they picked the worst ultimatum they could have possibly picked.

or if you want angst, say the poison immune character’s non-poison immune friend/family member/love interest/whatever is poisoned while the poison immune character was right there (see the spiked meal for example) and they’re woefully clueless about how to help since they never had to deal with poison and thus likely don’t know how to fix it (even if they have the means, which they probably won’t depending on the setting) or make it better, so they’re left just watching their friend suffer while waiting for medical assistance (if any are coming), wishing it had been them that ingested the poison and not their vulnerable friend.

i just think poison immunity would be a very interesting tool to use in a story because there’s so much potential for angsty moments, badass moments, and comedic moments in equal measure that i think are being criminally ignored.

[khedmedarcue-blog]

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