POV you are travelling when next to the road on the hardened crem stands a weird, short man with foreign features, holding a stone and an expression like the next Highstorm will last forever. He offers you his servitude, a strange accent to his words. Will you accept?
2 imprisoned
Ba-Ado-Mishram is Not happy.
I want to use this months art romp to familiarise myself with some of the new procreate brushes. We’ll see how that goes…
3 Shielded
I will steal my friend Priscilla’s line on this because it was what I was going for: Syl tapping into Stormmother energy, and poor Kal needing a shower, a shave and like twenty sandwiches. 😆
Syl shielded him so he can do the same for so many others. She is the GOAT!
"I hate you," Hero pants, straining at the bonds that hold up their exhausted body.
"How much?" Supervillain asks, the ghost of a smile on their lips. "Or do you want me to guess?"
"Fuck you," Hero says. They struggle to keep their balance as Supervillain approaches them.
"Now, now, don't be rude," Supervillain chides them, "You're adorable when you are."
"You think I care?"
Supervillain catches Hero's waist, supporting Hero just enough to ease the tension in their bruised wrists. A choked sigh shudders from Hero's chest. They look away, matted hair hiding the relief in their tired eyes.
"No, you don't," Supervillain murmurs, lips ghosting Hero's ear, "But you will."
Villain tilts his head. Of all the things he was expecting after he betrayed Hero, screaming, yelling, crying, this quiet resigned question catches him so off guard. So disjointed with the loud, lively Hero he knows.
The Hero he loves.
He leans heavily on the bars that separate them, trying not to wince at the way Hero’s cuffs clink whenever they fidget. They never were any good at staying still.
“What…now?” He probes tentatively.
Hero gives him a scathing look, as though that’s the stupidest question he could’ve possibly asked. “Don’t play dumb. What am I still needed for? Why am I still alive? The only thing I can think is you and that boss of yours want an example made.” Villains stomach drops as Hero continues. “I’m hoping I’m wrong though. If you ever cared at all you’ll do me the solid of a private execution instead of public-“
“NO! No, never, I…I couldn’t kill you. I…look, it started as just a way to sabotage your organization. You know that now, but it still meant something. It wasn’t supposed to, but it meant something to me. Whatever happens, I do love you, ok? I need you to know I wasn’t lying about that.”
Hero searches his eyes, likely looking for any deception. He holds their gaze, hoping they can see the earnesty there. After a long moment, they sigh, and break eye contact to stare at the wall instead, a sad half smile playing on their lips. “You wanna know the worst part of all this?”
Villain blinks. Hero seems to take that as a sign to continue. “The worst part is I actually believe you. You say you love me, and I honestly think you’re telling the truth.” They sigh, and flicks their eyes back to him. All he can make out behind those eyes that he once could’ve stared into forever is a bone deep exhaustion. “And that makes it all so much worse.”
He furrows his brow. “How could that make it worse?”
“Because it wasn’t enough. You loved me, and it wasn’t enough to change anything. It never is. I’m still here.” They gesture to the dirty cell surrounding them . “You love me, but not enough to choose me over your cause. Not enough to not hurt me. Everyone loved me, but no one ever loved me enough to care. No one ever loved me enough not to hurt me. Do you know how exhausting that gets after a while?”
“I…I’m sorry.” It’s not nearly enough, but it’s all Villain can think to say.
Hero chuckles. “I figured. Not sorry enough to change though, right?”
He doesn’t respond. He can’t. Hero gives them a knowing smirk, even as they’re still smiling, a rueful, broken thing. A single tear cuts through the dirt and blood on their face, following the path of the existing tracks. They rests their head against the bars.
“You wanna know the second worst part of all this?”
He really doesn’t, actually. “…Tell me.”
Hero closes their eyes, facade finally cracking as their smile slips. Their words are a broken whispered confession, coated with a shame Villain understands too well.
"Well, Ryan, when your wealthy mother was on her deathbed, she made me promise - as her lawyer and confidant - that I would manage her vast fortune and holdings and take care of you until such time that you were mature enough to manage the estate yourself.
And so I've kept my promise! After today, I'll have drained all her bank accounts and liquidated all her holdings and moved them into my own accounts! What better way to manage all that money than to take it for myself?
As for you, Ryan, as an inmate here in this Russian asylum, you'll be well taken care of here for the rest of your life! But don't fret about it too much, the rest of your life probably won't be too much longer. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
Goodbye, Ryan. I won't be coming back here to visit ever again. After all I've got a vast fortune to invest now! Enjoy the rest of your life!"
Bucky Barnes x Reader
You and Bucky are imprisoned together
Trigger Warnings: Imprisonment, violence, drugs, starvation mention
This is my first time posting a fic that needed trigger warnings so if you think I've missed any please please do let me know!
You wake up, disoriented, your throat dry and scratchy. Were you drinking last night? You don’t normally get headaches after a night of drinking but it would explain the dry throat. You reach out blindly for your bedside table but your hands only collide with stone, cold and smooth. Your eyes open groggily as you adjust to your surroundings. You’re in a small room, windowless, the only light from the dull bulb hanging above you. You sit up slowly, looking towards the door, putting a hand to your head with a soft groan as it throbs in protest.
“Good Morning.”
Your heart nearly leaps out of it’s chest as you hear a voice and realise you’re not here alone. You quickly pull yourself away, your back hitting the smooth, cold wall. You look for the source of the voice but your attention is drawn away by something else – a chain around your ankle. Heavy and tight, keeping you connected to the wall.
Your breathing is coming out quickly and ragged “Fuck… What the-”
The voice comes again, calm and level-headed “Hey, hey, don’t panic. It won’t help.”
You finally look over to the corner of the small room where the voice is coming from. It’s a man. Your captor? And then you notice the chain around his ankle too. No, another prisoner. Like you.
You glance around the small room again. There’s not much to look at, just four white, smooth walls, a light bulb and a large reinforced door “Where are we?”
The man shakes his head “I don’t know. But it’s no where good.” He studies you for a moment “I woke up in here about an hour ago if I had to guess. You were already here. Do you remember how you got here?”
You think for a moment, trying to remember where you were before you woke up here. What had you been doing? You shake your head in return “No… I remember… Going to work. Walking home. And then just darkness.” You hug your knees to your chest “Oh God-”
“Hey, hey, no, don’t panic.” He sighs “Look, just… What’s your name?”
You meet his gaze, your expression wary “Y/N. You?”
“James. But everyone calls me Bucky.” He runs a hand through his dark, messy hair “Looks like we’re stuck in this shithole together for now Y/N.”
You look him up and down, taking in his appearance. He’s nearly twice your size, wearing black jeans and a leather jacket, and he has… A metal arm? He catches you staring at it and you quickly look away. You swallow hard. This guy could be anyone. He could know more than he’s letting on, he could’ve been the one to lock you both in and now he’s trying to earn your trust.
“You got anyone who would be looking for you?” Bucky asks. You glance at him wearily “Look, I wanna get out of here just as much as you do. So the more people looking the better.”
You shrug your shoulders “I guess work will notice when I don’t turn up for my shift. My best friend, he’ll probably notice and... Hopefully call the police.”
Bucky raises his eye-brows “Parents? Partner?”
You shake your head “No partner.” You don’t elaborate on your parents and he doesn’t ask “What about you?”
He shrugs a shoulder “I got a couple of friends.” He doesn’t go into any more detail than that.
“Do you remember anything?”
He shakes his head “No. Maybe we were drugged or knocked out.”
You raise your eye-brows. Whoever had managed to knock this guy out clearly wasn’t someone to be messed with. You both sit in silence for a while before you ask quietly “So while I was out… Did you see or hear anything? Give us a clue of what we’re dealing with?”
He shakes his head again “I tried the door, it’s obviously locked and we’re not breaking it down. And even if we did, we’re stuck with these around our ankles.” He gestures to the chains “I tried ripping it off but they’re strong.”
You shift a little on the floor. You’ve been awake barely ten minutes and you’re already uncomfortable, the chain digging tightly into your ankle “Who do you think it is? And what do they want?”
“I thought maybe Hydra.” He replies honestly, watching you “But if it were them… I don’t think I’d be sat in a cell, fully coherent. I’d be under their control again.” He looks at you “And doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“Hydra? Holy shit, I hope not.” You don’t know loads about Hydra but you knew enough to know that if it was them who brought you here… You’re both in a lot of trouble “I can’t even-”
You both fall silent as you hear footsteps outside. Bucky quickly pulls himself to his feet, ignoring the way his head throbs, clearly gearing up for a fight. You swallow, looking fearfully between Bucky and the door. There’s a moments silence before a hatch at the bottom of the door opens and a tray of food is pushed in before the hatch snaps shut again.
Bucky swears under his breath and sits back down “Figures. Cowards.”
You look at the tray and groan. Your throat is drier than the desert and your stomach growls with hunger. But they’ve only pushed through one bowl of soup, one small bread roll and one bottle of water. Bucky looks at the tray with disdain “And they’ve already got us on rations. Perfect.”
“Maybe they’re trying to turn us against each other. See if we’ll fight each other for the small amount they’re providing.” You pull the tray in between you both “Well, we won’t let them win.”
There’s a moment of tense silence. You both know that if Bucky disagreed, if he decided that he was going to take the meagre offering and keep it for himself… Well, he would win any fight that you had. You would slowly start to starve to death and there would be nothing you could about it. He meets your gaze and eventually nods “Yeah. We won’t let them win.”
You breathe a sigh of relief and pick up the bread roll, tearing it in half and handing him his share before dipping it into the soup and taking a bite “The first thing I’m doing when I’m free is ordering a fat Chinese takeaway.”
He gives a half smile “Oh yeah?”
You nod “And I’m eating it all in bed whilst I watch a movie.” You look at him “What about you?”
“First thing I’m doing when I’m free?” You nod and he thinks for a moment “Checking on my cat.”
Your expression softens as you take another bite of your roll “You have a cat?”
He nods “Her name’s Alpine. She’ll be at home right now, meowing loudly, wondering where I am.”
The thought of his cat sat at home waiting for him to return makes you tear up a little “Shit. I’m sorry. Will someone feed her while you’re not there?”
He shrugs “I hope so. She’s a smart thing, she’ll figure out a way to survive I’m sure.” He’s shrugging it off but you can tell that beneath it all he’s genuinely worried “Hopefully we won’t be here long.”
Famous last words. That night the bulb flicked off, clearly signalling the end of your first day and you both curled up on the floor, both uncomfortable, both cold and both unable to sleep. Eventually the light came back on and you scratched a mark into the wall to signify one day had passed. The marks had now increased to thirteen. Thirteen days you had been stuck in this hell. Meals are brought three times a day, the portions barely big enough for one person let alone two. Every time you wait with your breath held, waiting to see if today’s the day Bucky decides to prioritise his survival over yours but every time he helps you divide the food and you share.
You’ve seen no one during this time. The door hasn’t opened once, only the hatch in the bottom for food to be pushed in. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Neither of you is afraid anymore, only cold, uncomfortable, bored and irritated. At whoever has done this to you.
You both get up and stretch several times a day but mostly you sit and talk. At first Bucky was closed off, not wanting to share much about himself but one night he woke you up. He’d been having a nightmare and you’d shaken him awake. The next morning he’d opened up – about the war, about his best friend Steve Rogers, falling from the train, how he’d realised he’d survived the fall and then he’d heard voices. For a moment he’d been hopeful – Steve had found him, he’d be home and safe before he knew it… But he was wrong. He was so wrong.
You opened up too. Telling him about how you’d fallen out with your parents and you were all too stubborn to be the one to apologise first, to make the first move to repair what happened. How you’d moved to New York and were surviving day in day out – how you barely had enough money to pay rent but you’d rather die than ask your parents for financial help. Bucky had listened – not interrupting, not prying, just listening. Letting you talk, vent, get everything that's been building up off your chest. It would be nice if you weren’t literally being held hostage.
You’ve both not long had breakfast – one small bowl of porridge with fruit and one bottle of water – when you hear the footsteps returning. You push the tray near to the door, both of you assuming it’s your captor back to take the empty tray. As expected the hatch at the bottom flips open and a gloved hand pulls the tray away. You both wait for the sound of retreating footsteps – but today is different.
Voices are heard by both of you – male, two of them, speaking a foreign language. You and Bucky glance at each other when suddenly you hear the sound of the lock being turned in the door. You both stand up quickly – neither of you is in peak condition. You’re both hungry and exhausted but Bucky is posed, ready to fight and you… Well, you’ve never been much of a fighter but you’ll do what you can to back him up.
Two heavily uniformed men step into the small cell and in one swift movement undo the chain around your ankle. Before you can react they begin dragging you out of the room. You scream and struggle against them but they’re stronger, their grips on your arm firm.
Bucky steps forward “Hey! Where the hell are you taking them? You can’t just-” The guard turns back around and pulls out a cattle prod, shocking Bucky in the chest. He grimaces and grunts in pain, slumping back against the wall as the door locks shut, sealing him inside by himself. His eyes widen and he throws himself against the door, thumping it with his metal hand.
“NO! NO, DON’T HURT THEM! Bring them back! Bring them back NOW! I swear to God if you hurt them-”
He screams over and over again until his throat is hoarse, his metal hand denting as he slams it repeatedly against the reinforced door. He barely notices, his mind filled only with worries of what they’re doing to you – whether they’ll bring you back… The only thing worse than being imprisoned here would be being imprisoned here alone. But more than that… He’s grown fond of you. He’s grown to like you. They can’t just take you away, they can’t.
The minutes turn to hours and eventually Bucky slumps to the floor in defeat, his cheeks wet with tears. He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a strangled sob. You’ve been gone too long and he feels sick to his stomach with fear and guilt. He let them take you. They were right there and he was too weak, too slow to protect you. He’d failed you and now you were gone, maybe forever-
Suddenly he hears the click in the lock and he’s instantly back on his feet. The door swings open and the guards drag you back inside, throwing you to the floor and relocking the chain around your ankle. Bucky growls “What the hell did you do to them? I swear-”
The guard pulls the cattle prod back out and he quickly backs up, his eyes wide. The guard sneers and the two of them leave, quickly locking the door behind them.
He’s by your side in an instant, pulling you into his arms, up and off the cold hard floor. It’s the first time in all your days of imprisonment that he’s initiated physical contact. You’d tried a couple of times, wanting comfort, wanting warmth but he’d resisted. He’s not resisting anymore.
He sits down on the floor, cradling you in his lap “Y/N? Shit, what did they do to you? Talk to me, please. Did they hurt you? I swear to God-”
You groan softly in his lap, looking up at him with wide, frightened eyes “Bucky?”
He sighs with relief as he looks down at you “Shit, Y/N, I was so sc- What happened? What did they do to you? Did you see anything that could help us?”
You press close to him, taking comfort in the only familiar face you have in this hell hole “Lots of corridors. I think we’re underground, no windows, no way to see where we actually are. They strapped me to a chair. Injected me with something and then just watched me. I begged to know what it was, I screamed, I cried, they all ignored me. Spoke to each other in their own language; I don’t know what it was…”
“Shit.” He doesn’t like the sound of that “How do you feel?”
“The same… I think. They watched me for ages. I tried to get up from the chair, I struggled so damn hard.” He looks down at your wrists – they’re red raw and chaffed, and he runs his fingers over them gently “Keep an eye on me and make sure I don’t sprout a tail or anything, yeah?”
He nods, giving a small, humourless laugh “Yeah, yeah… I’ll keep an eye on you.” He hugs you closer “I won’t let them take you again, I swear.”
“We have to get out of here Bucky.” You mumble tearfully.
He nods “Yeah… Yeah, I know. I’ll get you out of here Sweetheart, I promise.”
The light flicks off, signalling the end of another hellish day. Bucky shifts on the floor, holding you tight, making sure you’re comfortable and warm in his arms as he lightly strokes your hair, trying to comfort you as best he can. He doesn’t know who these people are, what their intentions are but one thing’s for sure… He’ll get you both out of here. And then he’s never letting you go again. He’ll figure out what they injected you with and he’ll keep you safe. No matter what.
Speaking from experience, being strapped up tight in a PVC straitjacket is an awesome experience, but if you struggle around, you soon get mighty sweaty! It welds itself to you. I have even had trouble getting out of a jacket even after all the straps have been unbuckled. It felt I had been super-glued into it!
Here, Zac and Jamie are taking turns enjoying the experience!
