#however orpheus??? and eurydice ??

[jewishregulus]

too much achilles and patroclus jegulus. orpheus and eurydice are RIGHT THERE you guys …….

[demigod-shenanigans]

The thing about my Orpheus Eurydice fic is that it will end well. I’ll spoil that part right from the beginning.

Leo will get Jason back. And he will realize just how much he’s loved and that he deserves to be loved exactly like that. Leo gets to be happy in this house.

That doesn’t mean much of the journey isn’t going to suck though!

[braisedhoney]

some tragic love stories be like: if i could bottle the galaxy, i would pour it into a cup so it would be easier for you to drink. do you want them? do you want the stars? or do they suit you better as adornments for your eyes than glitter on your lips?

but they don’t want the stars. they don’t want the galaxy. but how can they not? is that not enough? (it’s too much, that’s the problem. it’s too much.)

[love-birds-stuff]

Hadestown can be something so personal

[longlivechips]

Orpheus and Eurydice AU

Where Merlin is given the opportunity to lead Arthur out of Avalon.

However, if he turns around and looks at Arthur before they reach the surface he forfeits their destiny and Arthur will never return.

Merlin can. He looks straight ahead. He's suffered worse than this for Arthur's sake and he won't throw it away now for a glance. He knows Arthur, he knows he will follow.

Arthur on the other hand ....

He's fresh off the betrayal of a magic reveal. He died in Merlin's arms with so much left unsaid. He follows, of course he does it's Merlin how can he not.

But he's not used to this Merlin. The Merlin that gets shit done, the Merlin that's been defending him and his kingdom for a decade. The cold, calm, ruthless man Merlin has forced himself to be for Arthur's sake.

He NEEDS Merlin to turn around. To flash him that goofy smile that lets Arthur know that despite everything Merlin is still there. His Merlin. Kind and affectionate and trustworthy. Merlin who would cry over the death of a stranger. Merlin who is always by his side.

He doesn't know the Merlin in front of him and he's scared. And maybe he begs Merlin to turn around. Fueled by grief and fear and isolation.

But Merlin doesn't. He keeps going forward.

[crypticminx]

Please pleasee do felix x pregnant reader smut, ily ur writing ur so talented 💌

Thank u my loveee! Here you go xoxo

AN: smutttt, eating u out, sex, breeding kink! Xoxox

Felix is ravenous for you.

Actually, ravenous is an understatement.

He’s so damn starved for your touch since you’ve become pregnant, his internal famine grows more and more as does the swelling of your bump.

He desires you more than ever, finding you as beautiful as all the goddess he ever studied in his Greek mythology class. Like the tragic tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, Felix was so unearthly in love with you that he vowed to do anything for you, but even more so now as you were the one carrying his seed.

So alluring—yet sentimentally fascinating, for the man to watch your body and physique evolve in the most glowing way possible.

Felix just wouldn’t be able to contain himself in a manner that wasn’t touching you all over with his exceedingly needy hands. No restraints could keep him apart from you.

And when you were naked, it was like he was in heaven and you were his angel.

He adored seeing you so full and round with his seed, your once petite breasts now full and swollen. He’d gently cup them, stimulating a nerve inside of you that felt relaxing as your boobs were constantly sore. And when he felt like his hands could only provide so much for his lover, his tongue would ease its way to your hard nipples. He’d be delicate, not wanting to suck on them in a way that would hurt you. So as he’d swirl his desirous tongue round and round, you’d moan for him in agony to just fuck you already.

Making love was a strong suit of his, he was a master in the bedroom and could get you off in a hurry with a few powerful thrusts and some aggressive hair pulling. However, sex while being pregnant was different. It brought out a more sympathetic side to Felix, he was stimulated to no end, but didn’t let his rough, usual pace take over.

Slow and steady, he’d make you feel warm and losen all your tension by eating you out. Plunging his tongue in and out, by taking his sweet time in devouring your delectable cunt. Taking a few sweet moments to glance at your sweaty, pink cheeks before letting his hands roam freely around your protruding bump, his head retuning back to his favourite meal that was sprawled in front of him.

His throbbing cock had no seconds to spare, patiently waiting to enter the insides of your needy pussy, except Felix didn’t rush his stamina to slide it in. Cautiously taking his time, he lightly thrusted his solid cock into you, loving the slow feeling of letting his cock be surrounded in your inner walls that were already so wet for him.

He groaned seeing the image beneath him, your eyes squinting trying not to roll back with how pleasurable he was being, but most all, he loved seeing your bare bump on display for his eyes only. If you’re weren’t pregnant at the moment, there was no doubt in his horny little mind that would stop him from knocking you up this instant.

You were so gorgeous. Your heart was pure, filled with generosity and you had to have been the most selfless person he ever encountered—something so unfamiliar to him.

“Look at you, my little dove,” he proclaimed in between his erotic pants. “All full of my baby….oh so beautiful you are.”

His eyes were full of passioniate fire as his ears were overflowing with the beautiful sounds of your delicate whimpers and divine moans.

He’d get lower on you to the point where his toned abdomen would collide with your swollen stomach, skin to skin, he felt so connected to you.

“I wanna keep you like this,” he truthfully whispered, “keep cuming in you with my seed one after the other…”

A line of Catton heirs, now that was something worth talking about.

He loved everything about you being pregnant. He loved how you needed him, he loved your cute mood swings, he loved seeing your nurturing side blossom.

He was definitely getting you pregnant again.

[jayahult]

Not to get too intense about it, but I really do love a good retelling, but my criteria for good retellings are... not high, but perhaps more specific than they are for most people. If I had to make a list

A good retelling must understand the original text and its context. If one is retelling a Greek myth, you must understand not only the plot of the myth, but the author should also at least understand the intent behind the myth, both in charitable and uncharitable interpretations.

A good retelling must add something new by telling this story again. You can't just say that this is the same story... but in space! You have to know that the creation of a different context for a story fundamentally creates different themes and understandings, and take advantage of that. To go back to Greek myth, Hadestown is fundamentally a retelling of the story of Orpheus and Eurydice. However, instead of solely focusing on Hades as a figure representing Death, Hadestown focuses on Hades as a patron of the wealthy, the lord of all wealth hidden beneath the earth as much as the bones that also lay there. The story is then reframed as not just the story of Orpheus and Eurydice but also of the story of an early 1900s company town wherein Hades is the exploitative boss. Orpheus is voice of the downtrodden, traveling to this place of the downtrodden and trying, in his own way, to affect some tiny bit of change. In what I'd consider one of the seminal songs in the musical, "If It's True," where his simple action of singing this question about whether this is the only way things have to be awakes the deadened workers and their collective force makes Hades respond.

A good retelling must stand on its own even if the audience is unfamiliar with other tellings. Knowing the original should enhance the experience, but it should not be necessary. Sorry to keep using musical examples, but The Tain by The Decemberists is still a great song with solid lyrics, even if they're abstracted from the original story of The Cattle Raid of Cooley. They change the lyrics to more modern ideas, with references to Charlemagne, cars, and so on, but the through-line of the story is very clearly there. The story even ends with a direct question to Medb - was all that really worth it?

I dunno where I was going with the rest of this, but those are my thoughts on the matter.

[jointherebellion215]

His Kiss, The Riot

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x female!reader

Summary: When you and your secret lover make plain to Feyd-Rautha your wishes for a life together, despite the proposed arranged marriage, he surprisingly acquiesces. But he can't let you go so easily, can he? Loosely based on the song from Hadestown.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: manipulation, Dark!Feyd-Rautha, arranged marriage, NONCON elements, gore, violence, she/her pronouns, female!reader, tragedy, star-crossed lovers, songfic, not quite a happy ending (oops), dark dark dark interpretations of Hadestown and the story of Orpheus and Eurydice.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read If It's True and liked, reblogged, or commented. I appreciate every single one of you. As always, I would love some feedback, likes, comments, and reblogs if you can :)

This is Part Two to my Feydestown trilogy (I'm so sorry for the pun). You can read Part One here.

AO3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Dune properties, characters, or storylines-- nor do I own anything related to Hadestown. The images used in this are not my own, and any similarities to stories or events other than what are directly referenced are strictly coincidence.

The devil takes this Orpheus

And his belladonna kiss

“So you wanna get married? Take away the woman I just offered my hand to, to whom I all but have legal claim?”

Your beloved’s replied words of affirmation to his words hold the slightest tremor, but like a dog to fresh meat, Feyd-Rautha sniffs this out immediately. Another smile graces his face. Feyd speaks to the crowd now, “Yes, I was promised the Lady’s hand in marriage. But! I am a benevolent figure, so I guess I’ll let the lovebirds go.”

The crowd starts to give polite applause, while your knees grow weak at the news. You can go? Has love really prevailed on this day?

“However,” and with that, your heart drops “I have some conditions for these… nuptials.”

You could sense the air growing thick with tension as the reality of the na-Baron’s ruling twists out of your favor.

“Conditions?” You whispered.

“Of course, my darling! I can’t make this too easy on you, now can I?” Feyd paces back and forth on the steps from which he speaks, making your eyes dart back and forth with each step he takes. Vigilance overtakes your body in case of any rash decisions.

“You two can leave the city, but it won’t be hand in hand. This pair will have to walk in single file, with the boy in the front and my darling Lady at least thirty paces behind. No ships, no speeders, no running. Walking.”

The energy of the room starts to grow more electric as the points of this term seem to set in.

“The Lady cannot speak out or make any indication of her following behind. You’ll be faced forward the whole journey. Once you reach the edge of the city and passed the threshold, you can be together for eternity.”

Your breath hitched. Seems easy enough, right?

“But, if the boy so much as turns his head to check and see if the Lady is following, the deal is off. She’ll return to me, and we will be married.”

Nothing makes a man so bold

As a woman’s smile and a hand to hold

“Is this a trick?” Your beloved asks plainly.

Feyd tilts his head, pacing down the steps to ground level. “Now, what makes you say that? I’m being generous. I’ve set my terms.” He is now nose-to-nose with the man attached to you. 

“Now meet them or face the consequences.”

The hand holding yours is now pooled with sweat. You quickly and subtly jerk the arm of your beloved when he starts to protest, not recognizing a gift when he sees one. You bow, the picture of poise and grace that you were raised to be. There is still time to leave with all of your limbs intact, you could not afford to slip up now.

“We offer our most sincere gratitude, my Lord na-Baron. Thank you for this most auspicious opportunity. We will not squander it.” 

Your beloved gives a clumsy bow to match yours. Feyd’s manic smile grows as he clasps his hands together. The sound echoes through the hall.

“So it shall begin!” 

But all alone his blood runs thin

And doubt—doubt comes in

The pair of you hold hands, side-by-side, at the entrance of the palace gates. A crowd has followed you to the edge, with onlookers from the outside spectating the unexpected appearance of a noble. Occurrences like this did not happen often, if ever.

“You heard the terms. The Lady must walk thirty steps behind. She must not speak to you.” Your hands reluctantly separate, following the orders you were given. You can feel your heart pounding with each step that you take away from each other.

“Some of my guard will accompany you, to ensure that you comply to the letter.” Four Harkonnen warriors step forward and encase you in a square formation, leaving the love of your life alone and vulnerable. He looks back towards you, fear and doubt creeping into his eyes. You nodded at him, believing that you could succeed in your task. That you would prevail.

“You may begin.” Feyd voices, and with that—you start your journey. Step by step, you walk further through the foliage that immediately surrounds the castle gates and into the city square.

Once you and your beloved reach the horizon, Feyd turns to walk past the crowd and back into the corridor.

Your father, the Duke, bows quickly and offers his gratitude, but is ignored as the younger Harkonnen goes to gather his blade and shield. With a yell, he summons his guards to formation. As Feyd checks the integrity of his weapon, one of the Baron’s advisors tentatively steps towards him.

“My Lord, perhaps you should consider letting them go—” In the blink of an eye, the man is silenced with a swift slash to the throat. Blood spills through the advisor’s hands as he struggles to put pressure on the opening. His body flops to the floor and Feyd carelessly steps over the writhing body to march forward.

“Let’s go fetch my bride.”

Dangerous this jack of hearts

It had been almost an hour of walking by this point. There had been almost a dozen times where you wanted to give any audible indication to your lover that you were here. A whisper, a whistle, a stomp of your foot. Anything. But now you could see the edge of the city, you could almost taste it. 

A life with your love was within reach. 

The guards accompanying you shifted inward, almost boxing you in. You were hopeful, but nerves were creeping in.

This was going well. Too well.

The grand arch signifying the edge of the city was above your lover now. The field that you used to meet at in secret lay just beyond it. You’re almost there. Just twenty more steps and you could be together, forever. 

He steps over the threshold, you see his shoulders lift and fall in an exhale. Then, the man you had fallen in love with— who you wholly believe in— slowly turns his head to lock eyes with you. A pale figure steps out from behind a pillar accompanying the arch.

The growing smile on your face immediately falls. You call out his name.

Oh no. 

The na-Baron tsked and shook his head, as if scolding a child. Harkonnen troops flanked the area, giving Feyd-Rautha enough berth to have his fun. The three of you were surrounded, but only one really had the advantage.

“You were so close!”

Your beloved held out a hand, “Wait, wait! I made it over!” He started to back away in fear, unarmed and exhausted from the long walk. Colorful, ripe foliage brushed his legs as he back into your field.

“Ah, but she didn’t. So, face the consequences.”

Then his blade pierced the man you love. 

Your ears started to ring, throat working itself raw as you wailed. Tears blurred your vision, you could hear the gurgles of the blood leaving your fiancé’s mouth and the slosh of his newly disemboweled entrails hitting the lush field before you.

With his kiss, the riot starts

His body made a sick thud on the floor, and your body jumped along with it. 

You ran towards your dead lover, cradling his face and sobbing for the soul that was just ripped away from you. He didn’t deserve such a violent end. His only crime was loving you and being loved in return.

A chuckle sounded from above you, and you turned your tear-stained face to the brutal Harkonnen. He was covered in the blood of your lover, his spoils of war staining his pale skin. Black teeth on full display, his shoulders gave a slight shake as he expressed his humor. His laughter sparked a rage in you like you’d never seen before. It didn’t matter what bonds you may or may not have formed over the conversations you had the last week. He’s a monster. He needs to pay for what he’s done. 

Red flooded your vision.

With a roar, you lunged for the man. His laugh grew more manic as you smacked, punched, kicked, and hit every visible part of him that you could identify. In your grief, every ounce of training that you received flew out the window. He took every blow with a smile, as if he enjoyed the punishment you were attempting to bestow on him.

“There we go, my darling. Show me your pain. Your rage!”

Your mind started to clear with the more hits you landed. With a quick swipe, you had the weapon that killed your beloved against the naBaron’s neck. The Harkonnen soldiers immediately stepped forward, but Feyd stopped them with a wave of his arm.

“Ah ah ah! Leave her be.” His grin almost split his face in half, specks of dried blood making a painting of his face. 

“Do it. Go ahead, come on.”

He pressed his neck forward, purposefully putting pressure on his own blade. Fresh blood started to trickle down his neck, adding to the gallons already spread all over his uniform. 

The shock of his willingness to put his life on the line made you hesitate, which made him cackle in your face. Your anger made you draw the blade back and slice it across his chest. A groan left Feyd’s mouth, 

“Good girl.”

An unexpected thunk to the head made your vision start to spin. Feyd’s arms braced around you, slowly lowering you to your knees and down to a lying position. He cradled your head as if you were a precious commodity, when he leaned forward and captured your limp lips with his. 

As black started swallowing your vision, you heard him say,

“Don’t worry, my darling bride. It’ll all be alright. You won’t feel a thing.”

[eddiewithcat]

i know we always talk about the scene of charles saying “this is one of those orpheus and eurydice moments, yeah?” on the stairs (and how he literally turned around)

but have we ever considered

edwin did the same for him in their scene in the attic?

he was ready to turn away, and forget his encounter with charles, but charles made him turn around

edwin told him he wasn’t good with people, and charles countered that by saying he was, and that he wanted to be by his side for however long they had (before death caught them- if it ever got to that)

so yeah.

idk just something to think about

and another parallel of them being orpheus/eurydice this fucking show i swear to god

[mournings-stars]

doubt comes in

happy valentines day, here's my apology in advance for the angst. this is heavily based on the story of orpheus and eurydice specifically in the musical hadestown (my fav) with inspo from the lyrics so a lot of this is written with the intention to rhyme and be in a hadestown-esque song.. I probably wont write like this often, but i hope y'all like it there's one mention of pronouns (she/her) with lilith since i basically swapped the reader for orpheus and luci for eurydice but other than that i don't think there's much to indicate this is a fem!reader but this is an angel!reader if anyone would like a precursor with fluff, i'll compensate yall for the dramatic greek angst

part 2 (prelude) part 3 (prelude pt. 2) part 4 (prelude pt. 3) part 5/finale (semi-alt ending)

It was a long way down; winding, golden steps in a narrow hall that you didn’t know the depth of until you reached the bottom. Your legs ached with each step, and your wings fought not to fly the rest of the way. You could see it in the distance when you reached the ground, the red heat of the pride ring, and the home you were headed to. 

It hadn’t been long since Lucifer fell, maybe a few months since he and his love were banished to the darkness he created with the worst of humankind, but you were given a blessing. 

Sera, the oldest of the angels, allowed you to go down to Hell to retrieve him. There was a catch, however, one that made you wary as you now neared his home. 

You could only retrieve Lucifer. He had to leave his love, and you had to trust that he would follow you. You had to lead the way back up the golden staircase she created for you, all the way to the very top where the golden gates you knew so well waited for you. Lucifer had to walk behind you without a sound; he couldn’t assure you that he was there. You just had to trust one another. To follow, and not to check. 

You couldn’t turn around. 

Finally, you reached his home, knocking on the door and waiting patiently before it was opened. “It’s you…” You knew his voice well, the sound of it making your heart swell as you wrapped your arms around him. 

He was quick to return the embrace, the ache in your legs vanishing for a moment in his arms. “It’s me.” He sighed, hugging you tighter and shutting his eyes with his head on your chest. He could hear the drumming of your heart, and he knew if he held you long enough he’d be back in Heaven when he opened his eyes.

But he had to let go.

“How are you here?” He asked a question and it was like a melody, clear as day and symphonic as the winds that flowed beside you as you descended that steep staircase down to Hell. He stepped back, hands lingering until you stepped away. 

“Sera allowed me to come down,” you said. “She said I could bring you back — that you could leave this place…” You looked around, shifting uncomfortably in the unnatural heat before you turned back to him with a gentle smile. “Come home with me.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “It’s a trick. She’s never liked me—“

“No!” You grabbed his hands, forcing him to look at you. “It’s a trial — or a second chance at one.”

It had taken you days to get down. You hadn’t seen Lucifer in months. A few days without looking back at him would be nothing if that meant an eternity back home.

He squeezed your hands, looking down at them and suddenly feeling that it might just be possible. “How?”

“It took a while,” you said quietly. “She didn’t want to listen, but I knew you had the best intentions. I convinced her, and she’s letting you come home.”

“She’s letting me try.” He looked down, dropping your hands and frowning at the ground. “What’s the catch?”

“You have to follow me—“

“I can do that,” he said quickly. 

“And you can’t touch me, or speak to me. You just have to trust that I’ll get us there and that I won’t look back—“

He cut you off with a dry laugh. “Just?” He laughed harder. “We both know how this will go.”

“I trust you to follow me. Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I do!” His hands went to your face, holding gently. You moved out of his grip, feeling the coolness of the band on his left hand. “We were always close; I trust you, I just… don’t trust her—“

“You should go, Lu,” a voice came from behind him, and the woman you recognized from Eden stood there. Her hair, long and blonde, flowed behind her in non-existent winds. Her smile made you understand why he fell — why he would for her. “Go home with her.”

It was decided then. Just one encouraging push from his love and he was prepared to leave. He looked back at her, giving a smile that made you look away as you turned. 

As they said their goodbyes, you waited quietly, kicking at the ground absentmindedly until Lucifer put a hand on your shoulder. “Ready?” You nodded. “Alright.”

“We can walk together until we reach the stairs… Then, from there, we’re on our own.”

“I won’t leave you alone,” he assured. “I’ll make sure you get back home.”

You frowned at his wording, taking his hand. “We’ll both go home.”

He nodded, correcting himself and squeezing your hand, “I’ll make sure we both get home.”

You nodded. “Let’s go.”

The walk was quiet before it had to be, doubt already coming in and making its way between you. What would happen when you reached the stairs? Would he follow behind you? Who were you to think he would, when his love had to stay in a place like this? 

“How bad was it?” Lucifer asked you. “Are you sure you want to go now?” You nodded. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I can rest when we’re home.” You gave him a smile that made him do the same. “You want to go back, don’t you?”

He had his doubts. He doubted that he could. He doubted he could make it all that way. He hadn’t seen you in months, and all he wanted was to talk to you — all he could do was touch you — but there was silence now. Didn’t that mean it’d be easy not to speak? Not to touch you… After all this time. After he found someone to love—

“Sera said if we make it, she’ll listen to you,” you tried, hoping he’d respond. He hadn’t even realized he didn’t answer you. “Maybe we can bring Lilith up soon.”

“I’d like that.”

The smile you gave him made him reach out his hand, the look on your face forced and sorrowful as you walked ahead of him. He wanted to take your hand for comfort — to both of you — but how was he supposed to go days without it if he couldn’t fight a simple urge now?

“We’re here…” You stopped some time later, silence blanketing the two of you a long time ago. 

But now it was for a different reason. 

Great golden steps stood before you, spiraling high up into thick clouds that shielded the true height of the stairs. 

But even from here they looked endless. 

“We can’t fly, can we?” Lucifer asked, half joking. 

“That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?” You laughed, but it died out quickly. “Are you sure you want to do this? You can turn back now…” You swallowed your pride. “Go home to her… It’ll be days of walking, and going back up is much harder than coming down.”

He took a moment to understand what you were telling him, but surely told you, “If you were down here, I’d come to find you, too.” That brought a smile to your face. There was another pause before he asked, “would you follow me?”

You nodded. “Anywhere.” Even here. 

He smiled, taking your hand like he wanted to before. “Then show the way.”

You squeezed his hand before turning to the stairs and letting go, savoring that last touch until you could do it again; back home. You took a deep breath before taking the first step. 

Immediately, a marble wall surrounded the staircase, and you could only imagine that the steps were shielded, a wall blocking off the first stair as you started to go back up. 

You couldn’t hear a thing, not even your own footsteps as you climbed step after step. 

Lucifer, on the other hand, could hear your footsteps echoing; one after the other, each of your steps right after the other, and sounding like the dull pounding of a drum. He couldn’t tell if it was comforting or foreboding, but he listened anyway. This was how he’d make it through, he decided. To the steady sounds of drumming. 

But you were struggling. Coming down and back up so soon had made you tired already, but doubt weighing you down didn't help any. You let out a breath before beginning to hum as a way to ground yourself to these hellish stairs. 

It was a song both of you knew well; there were no words or swells to make you know what came next, just an endless melody that the winds would sing as they carried the seasons through the Earth. Long before Lucifer went to see the world, this was how you knew it. Through the songs nature sang. 

But now he knew the world much better than you did. He didn’t need this song anymore. You doubted he even remembered it,

but no, he was humming along, hoping you could hear that he remembered your song. He remembered how beautiful it was, and how when you sang it, the entirety of Heaven could feel your warmth — your love. It was why you were given the task to change the seasons, your song persuading nature into the most beautiful summers and captivating winters. But what else could he expect from an angel of Virtue? Could he expect that the love that he felt all throughout Heaven would ever be for him? How could he expect anything from you? 

Pride does not deserve Humility. 

And doubt comes in; he thought about turning back, letting you go alone, but even when he stopped for just a moment you kept walking. You trusted him to follow you, and as you hummed the song of nature, he felt that same love that he used to. The same warmth that was now pushing him up the endless stairs after you. The same winds that made him want to reach out and touch you, just to remind you that he was there. Just to see you look back at him. 

But he knew what you were doing, using your gift of song to bring nature into this empty place so it could push you to keep going. You hoped the winds would push you up, but they weren’t strong enough. 

You weren’t strong enough for this. 

The song stopped after a while, but you continued to climb, up, and up, and further up to no avail. If it hadn’t been that there was only one path, you would’ve questioned whether or not you were going the right way. 

It was harder going back. 

But there was hope; a faint, golden light that led you back home. A faint, golden light that told you you were so close. A faint, golden light that made you want to turn, smile at him, and say, “we’re almost home,” but you stopped yourself and kept going. 

You were much further than almost, but you were getting there. And this light pulled you to keep. Going. 

You didn’t care for the exhaustion, or the pain, you didn’t think about the hunger, or the thirst. You kept in mind that you would sleep, rest, eat, and drink when you made it home with him. 

When he made it home with you. He would worry about how tired you must’ve been. He would worry how much pain you were in — and he would worry about his own once he made it home with you. But he saw how you faltered, hand on the wall to keep yourself going, and he knew he couldn’t make it much longer like this. 

But you trusted him, he had to try. 

And doubt comes in. 

He doubted how much longer he could take this. He doubted how much longer he could watch you fade into exhaustion and pain without doing anything about it. 

He doubted that Sera didn’t expect this to happen.   

He doubted, and doubted, until you were finally there. Until you were almost sure he hadn’t followed you. Until your legs gave out on the final step and you felt him rush to keep you from falling. You felt his hands keeping you up and his wings bringing you onto the pale clouds of your home. 

And you turned back. 

But he was happy that you did. He gave you that same smile he gave her and his hands held your face gently. You reached up to grip his wrists as your eyes pooled. Regret; regret for doubting, regret for tiring, for failing. For turning back. “Why would you?” You asked and it was like a broken melody. Clear as summer rain with no symphony to push away the doubt that just kept coming in.

And he spoke to you. He broke every rule. 

“I couldn’t let you fall,” he said, and you knew how he meant it. You knew he never trusted Sera. She knew he’d fail. So did he. But not you. You were the fool that made him put his trust in you.

And now you knew he had to go. And he knew he could never return. 

He tilted your head down, wings fluttering and lifting him off the clouds. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head and said, “Visit again if you can.”

[lupuslikethewolf]

in honour of being promoted to Deputy Stage Manager in my school's theatre department, top gun high school/sixth form au:

Dr Kazansky rules the drama department with an iron fist. always wearing black turtlenecks. never seen without his glasses, his coffee, and his terrifying glare (which earned him the moniker Dr Iceman). do not show up to rehearsals if you don't know your lines. death be upon the poor students who fuck around during tech and dress, because they will find out. he loves the crew tho.

Mr Call-Me-Mav Mitchell is the head of sports. you name it, he's played it, and he could absolutely give you pointers, also, do you want a protein bar with that? it's chocolate flavoured :) even the kids who Hate (capital H) sports love him. he is sunshine and adrenaline in human form. endless energy. no one knows why he is called maverick, but even the principal does it, so.

Mr Kerner is the principal. he is also the only person who can interrupt rehearsals and survive. dr kazansky loves him. inexplicably, maverick hates him. nough said.

Jake Seresin is the school's golden child, not even because he's Kazansky's nephew. he’s head boy. he’s on the school’s football/rugby team. he writes regular articles for the internal magazines. and this year, he’s playing Orpheus in the school’s production of Hadestown. everyone thinks it’s nepotism. it is and it’s not, jake just lost a bet to his Uncle Tom, and must now reap the consequences to said uncle’s delight.

Bradley Bradshaw has been stage crew since he was thirteen and an overworked runner, thank you very much. it’s his final show, he’s the DSM, and if fucking seresin ruins this for him, he will riot. dr kazansky should never let that happen. however, this is the same man who, last year, laughed when revealing that a screen on stage had turned off and bradley had to go on stage during the show to fix it. hm. maybe bradley should have re-thought his life choices. also: the turntable. the goddamn turntable.

other characters include: phoenix as eurydice, bob doing lighting, payback and fanboy as ASMs who flirt over the comms to everyones misery, cyclone as another drama teacher/stage manager,

maverick keeps turning up to rehearsals and trying to help because his favourite (cough only cough) godson and his favourite player are both interested in this stuff, so he should at least try, right? kazansky hates it until he doesn’t. kerner thinks it’s all fucking hilarious. bradley is embarrassed but its kinda endearing do NOT tell him i said that.

kazansky and maverick both bare witness to A Moment between their respective pseudo sons and decide the two simply must get together for their sakes and also so they never inflict that on another person ever.

bradley and jake both bare witness to A Moment between their respective pseudo fathers and decide the two simply must get together for their sakes and also so they never inflict that on another person ever.

kerner is cackling. Cackling.

[nighttimeclassics]

so im just thinking about the Orpheus and Eurydice metaphor in Dead Boy Detectives again...

so i really cant get over the symbolism in the show's comparison between Edwin and Charles and Orpheus and Eurydice. I'm sure someone else more succinct than me has already talked about it but man i just have to because as a classicist it has been consuming my brain since it happened... this is going to be a shitty ramble, but we vibe

so in the show, it is Edwin who first realises his feelings for Charles, and is the first to to truthful about them. Given that, in most translations of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice, Orpheus' devotion to his wife is seen as the "stronger love" between the pair. highlighted in later adaptations such as Hadestown, as Eurydice makes the active choice to go to the underworld and leave her husband rather than their wedding being overshadowed by issues "worse than any omens". therefore, Edwin could initially be seen as the Orpheus parallel. particularly when you consider that Edwin 'guided Charles from the darkness' when he was dying of hypothermia with the lantern

however, unsurprisingly, given that is it Edwin who escaped from Hell, and is returned to it, Charles appears as the Orpheus parallel, with Edwin being his Eurydice. this is obviously then made super explicit in the show with it being Charles rescuing/ leading Edwin out of Hell. but even then it is not that simple

In Ovid's Metamorphoses, when pleading with Hades and Persephone, Orpheus states "my wife is the cause of my journey. A viper [...] robbed her of her best years. I longed to be able to accept it, and I do not say I have not tried: Love won." and obviously at the core of both of these relationships, is a deep deep love between them, regardless of how that manifests. Something i think is a massive parallel that i haven't seen anyone talk about yet is the willingness to remain in the Underworld/Hell for their respective partners.

going back to Metamorphoses, when Orpheus is requesting Eurydice's return to the mortal world, he gives Hades and Persephone an alternative solution of sorts. he says "if the fates refuse my wife this kindness [of returning to life], I am determined not to return {to the mortal realm]: you can delight in both our deaths." now is this not effectively the same thing Charles says to the Night Nurse when bargaining with her to open a door to Hell??? Charles says "then open up a door and I'll go get him, then we're stuck in Hell and you know where we are, or, I bring him back and we're all yours. It's a win-win." tell me that these aren't the same. you cant.

But i do think the most interesting parallel is when Charles and Edwin are running up the spiral staircase. i am not mentioning the times when escaping Hell, Edwin overtook Charles running, because let's be honest, we all know he is the faster sprinter of the two given the 70 years he spent practising. so I am disregarding that. but what I do find fascinating is this - and why I said it was more complicated earlier; in the metamorphoses Orpheus is obviously given the stipulation that he must not look at Eurydice when guiding her out of the underworld, or the agreement "would be null and void". and its here that we see another reversal. during the majority of the run up the staircase, Charles is behind Edwin, because like we have established, he's speedy. but in this key moment, Charles takes the lead in their escape, walking in front of Edwin whilst making it clear that they need to keep moving. just like in the tale, Charles, fulfilling Orpheus' role, "Afraid [they] was no longer there, and eager to see [them], the lover turned his eyes", turns to look back at Edwin, delivering the ridiculously romantic, 'sorry, no version of this where I didn't come get you is there?'. however, after this he refocuses on continuing up the staircase, which is where Edwin steps in:

as you can see in the gif, currently, Edwin is in, what I'm going to call the 'Eurydice position', following the lover out of the afterlife. and it is Edwin, as Eurydice, who basically chooses to condemn himself to the underworld/ hell, allowing the demon to catch up with them just to 'see [his] lover' and ensure Charles knows that '[he] had been loved'. t

im just going to put the section where Orpheus looks back at Eurydice in here because I think its all relevant:

"Afraid she was no longer there, and eager to see her, the lover turned his eyes. In an instant she dropped back, and he, unhappy man, stretching out his arms to hold her and be held, clutched at nothing but the receding air. Dying a second time, now, there was no complaint to her husband (what, then, could she complain of, except that she had been loved?). She spoke a last ‘farewell’ that, now, scarcely reached his ears, and turned again towards that same place"

by forcing Charles to turn around and face him, Edwin is fulfilling the roles of both Eurydice and Orpheus. in this instance, he is the one 'stretching out his arms' to hold Charles, but he is also the one that could be sent/ dragged back to the afterlife for this, but he just had to make sure Charles was aware of his feelings for him, to know that he was 'loved'. and I think Edwin was potentially prepared to return to the Doll House, or at least believed he would be able to find it more bearable knowing that he had been able to bear his soul to Charles, eve if that meant Charles couldn't come back again and try to rescue him for a second time, which Orpheus tried to do in the Metamorphoses, "Orpheus wished and prayed, in vain, to cross the Styx again, but the ferryman fended him off" and I feel like we all know Charles would have also kept trying if he lost Edwin again.

i guess, what im trying to say, in the most long-winded way, is that Charles and Edwin don't fill binary roles of one of them being Orpheus and the other being Eurydice, they are both of those things to one another throughout the show and I think that's really beautiful and I have to give massive credit to whoever did episode seven because I really feel like they did their homework. even after all the ramble I have written I still feel like I haven't fully made the point I was trying to make, but I definitely got some of the way there I think

[head-empty-just-ace]

Renovating my room means I'm blasting music through the speaker. And I am also just stuck on Hozier's music (if u don't know him— now you do). So, here are Hozier's music that I think suits the following OP men!

Featured Characters: Ace, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Brook, and Usopp

CW: Suggestive Content (it's Hozier. Ofc, there're going to be some feral undertones)

Note: I might edit this and add more if I feel like it.

Portgas D. Ace

I had a thought, dear However scary About that night The bugs and the dirt Why were you digging? What did you bury Before those hands pulled me From the earth?

I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

To Ace, you were the one who brought him back to life and away from the darkness of his own mind. There was that understanding between the two of you. Both knew the other had a past haunting like a shadow.

He won't pry. He won't undo the stitches of whatever had hurt you in the past. Let the ghosts stay as they are— just let him love you now. Two people that simply fell in love with each other.

The two of you feel like broken pieces of a whole to form a mosaic in each other's embrace. It becomes a chaotic madness that only the two of you could understand the raw beauty of it.

Monkey D. Luffy

Boys workin' on empty Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat? I just think about my baby I'm so full of love I could barely eat There's nothing sweeter than my baby I'd never want once from the cherry tree 'Cause my baby's sweet as can be She give me toothaches just from kissin' me When, my, time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

As playful as Luffy can be, he's fiercely loyal. He'll go through hell and back just to have you in his arms. May it be against the world, heavens, or even the universe its— he won't let it take you away. He can't lose another loved one.

He's already done this for so many people. No pain nor torture could stop this man from being with you. Not even the gods can help the ones who even dare try to.

The guy won't die for you. Luffy would make sure he's alive to make sure you're safe and happy. That's why not even death could keep him away.

Roronoa Zoro

You know better, babe, you know better, babe Than to smile at me, smile at me like that You know better, babe, you know better, babe Than to hold me just, hold me just like that

I know who I am when I'm alone I'm something else when I see you You don't understand, you should never know How easy you are to need

Don't let me in with no intention to keep me Jesus Christ, don't be kind to me Honey, don't feed me, I will come back

A man of solitude finally found the place to call his home. Zoro keeps to himself, and yet you wormed your way into his life without realizing the effect you had on him.

There's a silent intensity to it. He's a man of strict self-discipline. He knows who he is. But with you? Gods, a switch turns on in his brain that makes him feral.

The warmth of your soul seeped deep into the crevices of his bones and warmed him from the inside. How could he not need you and the warmth you've shown him?

Sanji

I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus When her body was found (hey ya) I'd be the choiceless hope in grief That drove him underground (hey ya) I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee That made him turn around (hey ya) And I'd be the immediate forgiveness In Eurydice Imagine being loved by me!

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you

Oh, everyone knows Sanji isn't by any means silent with his affections. But behind those honey-like words of adoration? Behind the hands that hold you so tenderly? There's an underlying heat to it that consumes him whole.

He won't tell you— not yet. Too afraid to scare you away by the growing desire in his chest. He doesn't just want you. He needs you.

That's why he'll put up a front of a dignified lover to you. Fawning over every little detail of your being while his fingers ache to feel the warmth of your bare skin.

Brook

She's gonna save me, call me "baby" Run her hands through my hair She'll know me crazy, soothe me daily Better yet, she wouldn't care We'll steal her Lexus, be detectives Ride 'round picking up clues We'll name our children, Jackie and Wilson Raise 'em on rhythm and blues

Lord, it'd be great to find a place we could escape sometime Me and my Isis growing black irises in the sunshine Every version of me dead and buried in the yard outside We'd sit back and watch the world go by

In the vast lonely life Brook lived, there was something about you that made him forget what loneliness ever felt like in the first place. You're just it to him.

No matter how peculiar he may seemed— you were always there by his side. Laughing along his jokes. Even matching his humor and love for music.

You are his muse. And he'd gladly play the ballad of your love until the end of time, if you'd let him.

Usopp

Remember once I told you 'bout How before I heard it from your mouth My name would always hit my ears As such an awful sound And the soul, if that's what you'd call it Uneasy ally of the body It felt nameless as a river undiscovered underground

And the first time that you kissed me I drank dry the River Lethe The Liffey would have been softer on my stomach all the same But you spoke some quick new music That went so far to soothe this soul As it was and ever shall be Unearth without a name

Some part of me must have died The first time that you called me baby And some part of me came alive The first time that you called me baby

Usopp knew that there was this part of him that felt hollow with all the grandoise stories he tells. And the way you would always listen to him as if you truly believed his words made him feel as though he was saved.

Bit by bit, he no longer lived in the tales he spun in his mind. He lived in the moment— with you. All the adventures you two would go on together were all he could ever talk about now.

It felt great because it was real. You were real. Choosing him despite all his flaws and quirks. To have given him the honor to hold your heart in his hands and be the one to protect it.

~~~~~~~

Okay, I might make a part 2 for this w/ Jimbei, Shanks, Law, Kid, and Yamato. Here's my masterlist to check it out!

~~~~~~~

Taglist: @that-student-that-has-homework @captainportgasdace @ofoceansandtombsanew @lynndt-chocolate

[reve-writes]

—of antidotes; kaz brekker.

ʚ kaz brekker x reader | grishaverse | 1,5k words. ʚ you and kaz were separated from the rest of the crows after a job went wrong. ʚ physical injuries. ʚ a/n i just love the little things, especially with kaz brekker. he's definitely the type to go out of his way and do the little things. this is a repost!

“There are worse things that could have happened,” you said, trailing after the disheveled Kaz Brekker as he limped ahead with his cane. An acquisition gone wrong in so many different ways, you were starting to think your luck had run out.

He didn't reply for a moment, but the silence seemed to bother him more than your statement did. He indulged in your attempt at finding a silver lining, “Like?”

“Like—” Honestly, this was as bad as it could've gone. “Like all of us dying.”

Inej was taken to Saints-knows-where, but you were quite certain she slipped away. Matthias might be well on his way back to Hellgate by now. Wylan was smart enough to stay in hiding. Neither of you had any idea on Nina or Jesper's whereabouts. You were forced by Kaz to retreat after being hit by a slow-acting poison. There was a growing swell on your thigh where the dart hit.

“Isn't it great that you're the only one dying then?” he sneered.

“I'm fine,” you mumbled, although the tips of your fingers were starting to feel numb and tingly. It took more effort to clench your hands into fists. “You do have an antidote, though?”

“Yes,” he replied. “The poison was commonly used a few years back and I'd kept a few just in case.”

He could be lying and you wouldn't know, anyway. Kaz Brekker was always one step ahead of you in that way. You could never read what went on in his mind. The few times he had let you take a peek were all on his terms.

“Thank the Saints you're paranoid,” you joked. Suddenly, there was a sharp pain in your left leg. As quickly as it came, it was gone, along with any feeling you had on said leg. You stumbled forward with a yelp, barely catching yourself in time with your hands.

Kaz turned around, his eyes widening with worry, before he limped briskly towards you. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

He searched you for any kind of injury. You shook your head.

“Poison.” You were struggling to speak now. Each breath was a chore.

He clicked his tongue. “The safehouse isn't far from here. Can you hold for five minutes?”

You nodded. Kaz weighed his options. He could go by himself, pick up the antidote and bring it back to you. However, he didn't think he would be physically able to leave you here. Not knowing if you were still okay, having no idea whether the poison had reached your lungs or your heart. Orpheus' decision to look back and check if Eurydice was there suddenly made some sense to him.

“Lean on me,” he said, gritting his teeth as he pulled you up. The two of you hobbled forward down the dirt path through the field. “Tell me if anything else starts to feel numb, okay?”

You were sweating bullets, way too much for the current weather. Your head was starting to pound painfully as well. You gulped. “I'm sorry.”

He continued to hobble you forward. “It's not your fault.”

“I'm sorry anyway.”

Your head started to droop. You could feel yourself slipping further into unconsciousness.

“Hey. Hey, ___. Don't pass out on me now,” Kaz frantically warned. He called your name repeatedly, occasionally shaking you as he quickened his pace.

“I'm trying, Brekker.”

“Try harder,” he hissed. “Do you remember the one time you told me that?”

Your focus was drawn to the event, clearing some of the clouds that were hanging over your head. “You got yourself locked up with me.”

“I was trying to get you out,” he retorted. “I had a plan.”

“The whole plan hinged on you picking the locks of the jail they kept me in,” you argued. “You couldn't pick the locks.”

“I was trying.”

“I told you to try harder.”

“I continued trying—a moderate amount of trying,” he said, spotting the small barnhouse that he had turned into a just-in-case safehouse. “I got us out.”

You hummed in response.

“I got us out of there. I got us out of Pekka Rollins' meticulous plan. I'm getting us out of this, too,” he said, more to himself. “Come on, we're close.”

“You've always had my back, Kaz,” you slurred. “But who has yours?”

“We're here,” Kaz announced, barely letting a second to let your words ring. He set you down against the wall of the barnhouse, unlocking the doors. You lost consciousness sometime around when he got the door open.

When you woke up, you had a splitting headache, but you could feel your left leg again. Your eyes found Kaz, his coat and vest thrown aside. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a cut on his shoulder blade. He was struggling, twisting his body around to assess the damage.

You cleared your throat.

“You're awake,” he stated, straightening up on his chair. He must've moved too fast because he winced ever so slightly. “Have some water.”

He nodded towards a cup of water by your bedside. The bed was unsurprisingly hard and it smelled like old laundry, like if you'd kept your clothes in the dresser for too long. You thanked him and downed the whole glass in one go.

"Where are the others?"

"Hopefully somewhere safe."

The silence that followed was anxiety-inducing.

“Are you okay?” You asked, wiping your lips on your sleeves. His eyes followed the movement and settled on your lips for a second longer.

He shrugged, which was a bad idea because he immediately hissed. His hair fell over his forehead as he hunched over.

"I'll take that as a no."

You slid off the cot, intending to walk over to him. He seemed to have decided to place himself as far away as you did in the tiny hut. His chair was placed by the window in the opposite corner of the cot. While your legs were fully mobile, dizziness washed over you when you stood. You stumbled, catching yourself on the small table by the cot before you fell.

Kaz abruptly stood up. "You should be resting."

"As should you. I wasn't the only one hurt."

He sighed, running a gloved hand through his hair. "Go back on the bed."

You were about to sound your protest when you heard the screech of his chair dragging against the floor. He brought it and a tin of medical supplies over to you. He set the chair down and straddled it. His back was angled towards you, while he leaned his chin on the back of the wooden chair.

"How bad is it?" he asked, barely tilting his head back to look at you.

"How did this happen?" you asked back.

"Someone thought plunging a knife to my back was a good idea," he grunted. "I wasn't fast enough."

You didn't quite know what to do with your hands. "It looks bad."

"It feels like it looks bad," he scoffed. He looked at you and saw your hand tremble. He added, "The other guy had it worse."

You huffed out a laugh. "No one can best Dirtyhands, it seems."

"Yet."

The thing about Kaz Brekker was that he was notoriously bad at lightening up situations. That was your role. You didn't quite want to think about the implication of yet.

"Do you have gloves around?" you asked. "Because, you know—"

He threw his gloves at you. "Don't get too much blood on it."

It felt strangely intimate, but you pulled them on wordlessly before he changed your mind and decided to avoid you like you were a plague. Aside from occasional curses under Kaz's breath, the two of you were silent as you dressed his wound and put a bandage over it. It was two times harder than it needed to be with the gloves, but you managed it anyway.

"It's done. We should find a healer, though. To be safe," you said. He shrugged his shirt back on before turning around. You stared at his hands—they were pale with a lot of visible veins running through them. His eyes were fixated on your hands as well, clad in his gloves which were a loose fit. He wanted to hold his hand up to yours to see the sizes of your hands.

He coughed. The ridiculousness of his thought dawned on him. Impulsive thoughts that stemmed from somewhere deep within him—the place where he kept Kaz Rietvield.

He held his hand out. "Gloves."

You pulled them off and gave it to him. "I quite like them. Perhaps I should invest in a pair or two."

He hummed. "Get some rest. I'll try to gather news about the others."

"I can help—"

He was already buttoning up his vest. "I don't want to have to drag you back here again."

You frowned. "I am sorry."

He sighed, pulling his coat on. "Get some rest, ___. I'll pick up food on the way back."

You nodded. It wasn't until hours later that you woke up again, feeling more refreshed. Kaz Brekker was nowhere to be found, but you suspected that he had been back at least once because by your cot, there was a pair of gloves—new ones in the colour that matched your outfit.

[]

[antiquarianfics]

Taken pt. 10

If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would go back to that morning. He would hold you a little tighter in his arms, and he would kiss you a little deeper. He would pull your daughter in between the two of you, letting her giggle as loudly as she wants whilst her parents kiss her cheeks and tickle her belly. If Bucky Barnes could time travel, he would have told you not to go to the park—to go anywhere else. But Bucky Barnes can’t time travel, and his wife and daughter are gone.

a/n: sorry for the hiatus. here’s this. it’s not proofed. yay!

warnings: swearing, blackmail, mention of murder, themes of conspiracy, canon typical violence.

note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters. Any and all characters are a work of fiction and any likeness to real persons is wholly unintentional.

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

previous part | series masterlist | next part

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

“Well, my targets are gone,” you sigh, glancing down the hallway you had seen Steve run. You click your tongue and return your focus to Bucky, shaking your head slightly.

“Sorry, honey,” you say, knocking him out.

—

Bucky comes to with a groan, sitting up from his position on the floor, a hand holding his head. He blinks a couple of times, scanning the room for any sign of you. You’re nowhere to be found. Shaking his head, he pulls himself off the ground, and starts heading to the meetup spot he and Steve had agreed on months ago in case Becca had to be taken somewhere safe.

As Bucky travels, he replays the conversation he’d had with you. Why the hell would you bring up a Greek myth? He struggles to make any sense of it, but then his brain picks out a particular part of your story:

“Orpheus didn’t get a second chance to save Eurydice. Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid Orpheus would tell the humans all the secrets of the Underworld. Some versions say that the Muses kept his head, though, to sing songs forever. They managed to hear his voice even after he died.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Don’t turn around, James.”

Your warning—“Don’t turn around, James”— was certainly a code. After all, if you had struck a deal with Frost, and if you were working with HYDRA, then you were probably being watched, listened to. You couldn’t speak freely. But why Orpheus and Eurydice? Why that story?

“Don’t turn around, James.”

Orpheus turned around… Why is that important?

“Don’t turn around, James.”

“This has to be a metaphor for us,” Bucky thinks. “Does she mean I’m Orpheus, then? Eurydice was trapped in the Underworld… Y/N is trapped by HYDRA… Does she mean to stop looking for her? Or does she mean to trust she has a plan? That she knows what she’s doing?”

Zeus killed Orpheus because he was afraid he would tell all the secrets of the Underworld.

Then, it clicked. Bucky isn’t sure exactly what it is that changed how he interpreted your story, but, suddenly, everything made sense:

1. Chance one to save Y/N: Russia. I didn’t save her. I only saved Becca. She is saying I don’t get another chance to try for her.

2. Y/N is picking off people Frost is afraid will come between him and HYDRA. Right now, I’m not apart of that list. Proof: She let me go. If I attempt a second rescue, she will have no choice; they will tell her to take me out. Besides that, they will certainly threaten Becca, and we agreed when she was born that Becca always comes first.

3. The muses kept his head? They won’t kill me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they will just capture me. She won’t give me up, but she’s more likely to slip up if it comes to me. A slip up is more likely to lead to… They’ll wipe me. She doesn’t want me to come after her because they’ll wipe me if they capture me.

Bucky sighs as he arrives at the rendezvous he and Steve had agreed on. He feels a little better now that he understands more of what you were saying, but he still feels like there is a piece of the puzzle missing.

—

The team goes into hiding. You had revealed a lot about the dangers of HYRDA’s plans, but they still know so little. The team knew you had targets—important targets—that you were being forced to eliminate. They discerned the targets were people HYDRA feel are threats against their mission, but they still don’t have a definite list.

“We’re sitting ducks!” Tony shouts angrily into the room.

“Stark,” Fury says gravely, “watch it.”

“I’m sorry, but we are. We have no new intel. HYDRA is AWOL. The world is looking at us to do something, and we’ve got nothing.”

“Buck,” Steve says, “did Y/N say anything else that might give us a clue as to who she’s after?”

Bucky sighs, thinking back over the whole interaction from the moment you got there to the moment you knocked him out. It was as he replayed your conversation on the roof that it clicked: the missing puzzle piece. Bucky meets Steve’s eyes.

“She told me who she’s after.”

“Well?” Tony questions impatiently. “Who?”

“When I met her on the roof,” Bucky says, “Y/N told me she was marking 3 names off her list. That means her next three targets were in the Compound.”

“FRIDAY,” Tony says, “get me a list of every person who was in the Compound at the time of the break in.” FRIDAY responds in the affirmative.

“Then,” Bucky continues, “she asked me…” Bucky trails off as he tries to remember how exactly you worded the question. “She asked me: ‘You’re not all that close to Captain America, are you?’

“I thought it was weird how she worded that. I’ve known Steve longer than anyone, and it was weird she called him ‘Captain America.’ But that was her clue. HYDRA has no problem with Steve Rogers—”

“But Captain America has been ruining their plans since the ‘40s,” Steve says, arms crossed as he puts together what Bucky is saying. Bucky nods.

“So the other two targets have to have been in the Compound at the time of the attack, and they have to be people that have significantly messed with HYDRA somehow,” Sam thinks aloud.

Bucky thought. Who else could HYDRA consider a threat to their cause? Who else has been foiling HYDRA’s plans time after time? Bucky scanned the room, eyes carefully considering each person. It could be any of the Avengers, he thought, but then you would likely have more than 3 targets. His eyes settle on Fury. Bingo.

“Fury’s a target.”

All eyes are on Bucky.

“How you figure?” Someone asks. Bucky doesn’t clock who, his mind still attempting to fit puzzle pieces together.

“Captain America is an obvious choice. It can’t be another Avenger because you’ve done equal damage to their cause. It’s not me because they don’t want me dead—I’m valuable to them. But Fury? Fury created the Avengers. Fury is the leader. He’s also the director of SHIELD: HYDRA’s number 1 obstacle. It makes sense.”

Fury hums in agreement. “Rogers and I make the most sense. We still have a third target to identify, though.”

Bucky nods in acknowledgment, but his eyes settle on Coulson beside Fury.

“Coulson.”

Coulson’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, as if he never would have expected he could be so important to Bucky. He swallows and composes himself, and when he speaks, he is calm, confident.

“I do make sense. My team and I have given HYDRA a real headache, and, like Fury, I’m the leader.”

—

With a list of targets that the team was agreed upon and confident in, it was time for a plan. They’d been idle too long. The plan is simply to get you back first, stop HYDRA second, but the way Bucky see is it, you are crucial to Frost’s plan. If they get you, Frost will be scrambling.

“Okay, team,” Steve says into a huddle. “Stick to the plan. The tip we sent out says I’ll be on a solo recon mission, so they’ll be waiting. Y/N will be waiting.

The goal is to get Y/N and bring her home.”

“And we’re sure she’s not just going to kill you?” Sam asks, facetiously. Bucky scowls.

“We have to hope that she really is just playing HYDRA’s game to stay alive,” Steve says solemnly.

—

“Any sign of her?” Natasha asks into the coms.

“No,” Clint says.

“Redwing and I got nothing,” Sam says.

The coms go silent as the team waits. Steve carefully walks through the hallways of the abandoned HYDRA facility. He’s careful—he half expects you to step out of nowhere and shoot at him.

He turns the corner into what appears to be the facility’s security room. Computer monitors line the walls, each showing different hallways or facility entrances. The room is bland and dark except for the monitors and the light emitting from them.

Steve’s eyes take in the security footage, the room, and the woman sitting in a large desk chair in front of the monitors, legs propped up on the desk the security equipment rests on.

“Y/N?” Steve asks.

“You found her?” Bucky asks quickly, heartbeat picking up. He had been ordered to stay behind in the quinnjet, but if Steve found you, he’s leaving.

“Hi, Cap,” you say pleasantly. “Been a while.”

“You tried to kill me a week ago.”

You frown. “You still mad about that?”

Steve scoffs. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on, Captain America,” a third voice chimes in, “is the fall of the Avengers, of SHIELD, and the rise of HYDRA.”

“Frost,” Steve says, presuming he’s meeting the “mastermind” behind the whole endeavor.

“Captain Rogers,” Frost says with an over animated grin. “A pleasure!”

Steve turns back to you, ignoring Frost’s greeting. “You missed.”

“I won’t miss this time,” you say, the corner of your mouth twitching.

“I don’t doubt it,” Steve replies. “I’ve never known you to miss. Best sniper on the team.”

“Steven,” you say, an edge to your voice that confuses Steve. He opens his mouth to answer, but the sound of a gun cocking beats him to it.

Behind Steve, and then behind Frost, stands Bucky; he has a gun to Frost’s head. It’s clear that Bucky had snuck up on him.

“Well! Isn’t it nice of you to join us, Sergeant Barnes,” Frost says. “I just love a little family reunion. Tell me, how is the Mini Asset? Hmm?”

Still holding the gun to Frost’s head with his right hand, Bucky’s left hand goes around Frost’s throat.

“Watch it.”

“Buck, we need him alive,” Steve warns. Bucky releases Frost’s neck. However, in the small amount of time that this interaction took place, Frost had, unbeknownst to the three of you, snuck something out of his pocket.

“Well, this has been fun. I’m sure we will meet again soon,” Frost’s tone is sardonic. “Just know, Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, that you may have gotten your little bitch back today, but this is far from over. HYDRA will rise again. SHIELD will fall.”

Then, Frost throws what he had pulled from his pocket to the ground and smoke quickly billows up into the room, filling your lungs and making you cough. You hear footsteps—Frost running. He must have taken Bucky by surprise, too.

When the smoke clears, you face your husband and run into his arms for the first time since being kidnapped.

—

After being rescued from Frost, Bucky and the team take you back to the Avengers’ makeshift headquarters. They (with profuse apologies) blindfold you on the way so that you’re not able to leak any information if you have actually turned against them, or accidentally give something away if HYDRA is watching somehow.

“I’m sorry, Doll. Y’know I trust you with my life, but we gotta be sure,” Bucky says. You rest your hand on his and squeeze.

“It’s fine. I understand.”

Upon your arrival to the HQ, you’re taken to an interrogation room where Fury and Coulson ask you about the kidnap, the torture, the deal you struck, HYDRA’s plans, and everything else up to your rescue. They hook you up to a lie detector machine, even, and ask you if you are working with HYDRA, if you had gone dirty.

“I promise I only did what I had to survive and to keep my daughter alive. I had to do what HYDRA asked. They’re everywhere. They’re within SHIELD, even. I didn’t know who could hurt her,” you swore.

When Fury and Coulson are finally finished interrogating you, they tell you they think you have a chance of being acquitted. You were a prisoner of war, and, surely, the U.S. government would see that. However, until then, you were in SHIELD’s custody and to be locked up. You agree without protest.

As you’re walking out of the interrogation room, hands cuffed in front of you, you see Bucky holding a sleeping Becca in his arms waiting for you. Your eyes widen.

“What is she doing here?” You panic.

Bucky frowns. “I thought you might want to see her. She misses you.”

“Bucky, if she sees me right now, what will she think? I’m handcuffed. The last time she…” You trail off. “I don’t want to see her. Just… put her to bed. Give her a kiss for me. Tell her I love her. Don’t bring her by my cell.”

Bucky says nothing as a couple SHIELD agents lead you away.

—

It takes 2 months for you to be acquitted. You stay locked up in a SHIELD cell, refusing to see your daughter, barely speaking to anyone for 2 months. When you are finally acquitted, it is because a private grand jury hears your testimony, Becca’s testimony, and the testimony of the Avengers’, security and personnel from the White House there the night you assassinated the president, and the families of the deceased. The ordeal is heart wrenching. You are sentenced to a year of probation (including not going on missions as an Avenger) and weekly court mandated therapy, but you are free.

When the judge tells you, “Mrs. Y/N L/N-Barnes, you’re a free woman,” you let out a sob and feel yourself yanked into a firm chest that you’d recognize anywhere: Bucky.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. You’re coming home.”

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

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[dogbites-puppylove]

Hi! I’m new to your bling and was wondering How do you think Dick Grayson(Yandere) would react to his s/o being a dragon but they stay in there human form more than there dragon form because the form is too large for Blüdhaven? (If ya want to inspiration think of Drogon from Game of thrones. Black scales blood red horns and spinal plates. Red eyes. There flames are black and red?)

Dick Grayson w Dragon! Darling

TW: description of yandere mentalities and actions (obsession, possessive tendencies, stalking, etc)

Tags: Yandere! Dick Grayson x Dragon!reader

Dick Grayson is a man deprived - always craving and hungering for his darling in ways that melt his brain from his ears until they drip on the sidewalk below. He licks up your identity and devours it from your highest dreams to the blood beading your scraped knee during a spring of your childhood - everything you are is also Dick’s - just as everything he is is yours. Hiding anything from him is a task impossible perhaps even to the divine - he’s addicted to you, his high’s are your breath in his lungs and his lows are when you're just feet away. With this in mind - his darling being a dragon doesn’t so much as change his opinion then change his approach. 

Dick is a man who is bound by the pleasure principle - his ultimate bliss is the idea of life and death in your arms - conjoined as if you entered this earth connected. Like Orpheus is never known without Eurydice - like the legend can never be told with only one of them - he needs this love to define him.  He feels the need to writhe, the way he feels bugs under his skin that chatter into his bones - eating him hollow until you can fill it. Dragons by principle are tougher - they can take more, last longer, and bigger in every sense - and this is something Dick loathes and delights at. 

He’s rougher with you - he knows you can take it - and he experiments more. What pleasure is best - what sounds can you make - how far can he push until he can see just a glimpse of what you are outside of flesh that mimics his own. It’s simply not an option to not know you inside and out - not when he rips himself open everyday to allow you inside - not when you have his organs clutched between your teeth. Don’t grow surprised when one day he comes home with a collar and a leash - but don’t be afraid he has one for himself too. 

However - Dick is a selfish man, and while he loves his Darling so painfully his heart might beat his ribs raw - he can’t bear the idea of separating from you at his death. He grows far more obsessed with how to take you with him - oh but don’t be scared. It’ll be soft, sweet - like cyanide in apple seeds - he’ll coddle you through any pain. Just as he is rougher with you - he’s also more fatal. His hands begin to mimic dulled swords that sharpen themselves against your skin - he feels for soft spots and pulse points - and at night he whispers about joints graves with a devastating need. Your train ride to hell had been confirmed the moment he laid eyes on you - the moment Dick Grayson fell in love. Not even being a dragon will let you fly. 

Dick Grayson is also delusional - just as strong as Nightwings ideals are. This means that Darling can physically do nothing that breaches the moral threshold of wrong - and if he must rewrite heavens law to have it ring true he shall. Dick not seeing Darlings full form is not an option  - you own each other - you’ve vowed yourself to each other. Nothing must take a higher presence in your life than that, if you don’t want to move far enough to shift without casualty then death becomes far less of a problem. To put it in simple terms - Dick Grayson will consume every last part of you - should citizens and Gotham itself have to perish under your form it would be a shame - but of no consequence. 

Though, the Darling should be warned to not get cocky - wings are just as beautiful on your back as they are mounted on the wall. He knows you’ll survive - and he has forever to beg for your forgiveness, so you can’t blame a starved man for taking a bite.

Author's Note: This is so out of my field and I'm so out of practice omg. I hope you enjoy it though.