#so hi honey (both of you) and hi FRIENDS (enemies of the state)

[dystopiagnome]

I would post more anaroceit things if only they weren’t so out of character and weirdly specific to me and my experiences with my partners and did not fit those assholes, we just project on them due to admittedly tragic character flaws within ourselves.

[surplus-of-sarcasm]

#32

TW: Knives, references to violence, restraints, bruises/wounds, flirty? 

I am literally sauurrr sorry for being so inactive but college is destroying me. It's been so long since I've written too, so I do hope the quality of this piece isn't affected. Missed u guys 💙

"Do I scare you?" the hero asked, her voice devoid of any emotion, all while her eyes stared straight through the villain like he was transparent, searching for something in his expression. 

Except his face remained defiantly blank, looking up at her, fire in his honey brown eyes, surprisingly not sparing any effort to attempt escaping his restraints. 

When the hero stuck one of her nails into a small, open cut on his neck, the villain bit back a wince, an irritated frown tugging at the corner of his lip. "Yes," he supplied, his tone even and calm, not even hostile, trying to render himself as passive as possible. 

Except he'd licked his lip in that quick, almost imperceptible manner, something he only ever did when he lied, something the hero wasn't supposed to know. 

But she did. 

"Stop lying," she snarled, sticking her nail again in the cut.

"The hell do you want, Hero?" he snapped, hissing as her finger left his cut. 

The breaking point. The point where the villain was done placating and playing along and already back to his normal, wild state, where he could care less about whatever earned the hero's ire. 

She'd spent the last three hours mostly in silence, only ever talking to ask the villain a question she knew would irritate him. He held up surprisingly well, even though his self-preservation instincts were usually nowhere to be found. So she wondered why he'd act so placidly in the beginning.

The villain liked to talk. He did most of the talking during their fights. The quiet drove him insane, and now he had his teeth bared like an animal, murder in his eyes and tension in his jaw.

This was the part where the hero should've laughed or slapped him across the face, or done anything just as cruel.

The truth was that they'd both been nothing but cruel to each other, enemies by virtue. The villain had beat the hero black and blue, had called her a myriad of flithy names, had screamed at her because of how much he hated that she was quiet. In turn, the hero made sure that every nick with a knife and every punch against skin had left a mark on the villain. She fought to scar, not just to incapacitate. She knew the scars were more a wound to his ego than his body, proof she'd hurt him.

And yet, the villain had pulled her out of a ditch and bandaged up her nearly destroyed leg, effectively saving her life when he had no business being there. In turn, she'd pulled him up when he almost slipped off a roof during one of their fights. 

And situations like that would only keep happening more and more often, almost a staple of their atypical relationship. The villain would laugh, would crack a joke, would be so careful with her wounds, would be anything but his usual abrasive self. 

And the very next fight, they would be even more horrible to each other, as though whatever had happened the day before had never been, as though cruelty was the only language they could speak. 

The hero didn't have friends. They were another luxury she couldn't afford. Her teammates weren't actively cruel or anything of the like, but the agency left no room for any semblance of friendship or love or all the things the hero wanted but could never really have. And the villain wasn't her friend. He wasn't supposed to be anyone. But he was genuine, almost the only person in her life who didn't sound and act like a robot. He'd had actual conversations with the hero. And maybe she was not stupid enough to think that made him any good, but maybe she was stupid enough to think that made him mean something to her.

"Answer me, Hero," he snarled coldly, tearing her chain of thought in half. 

The hero didn't consider spending any time on thinking of an intelligible response. People weren't logical when they were desperate.  Desperate was the hero's hand cupping the villain's jaw so gently that the shiver up his spine was still awfully intense, even with his numb body. Desperate was staring into the villain's eyes, watching the way his lashes fluttered, as his eyes told a completely different story from the harsh frown on his lips. Desperate was the hero's lips on his cheekbone, warm against his skin, shy, terrified, staying there for a fleeting moment that still felt like too long and retracting away with shame written all over her features. 

"I'm sorry."

Villain's eyes had widened, even though it seemed impossible they could grow any bigger. "I- come closer again," he half-whispered, all the roughness from his voice gone. "Lean down a little." 

And the hero obliged, even though it went against every single thing she'd been taught, and in turn the villain's lips were pressed to her jaw, careful but in no way timid. They weren't supposed to be velvet-soft, and hints of the villain's spicy cologne shouldn't have still managed to be distinguishable through the blood and the sweat. But of course the seemingly impossible was happening. 

"Yes," he answered, "you do scare me, but not in the way that you asked, so I was lying," he continued against the hero's jaw.

And she hated how palpable the relief was when he hadn't licked his lips. 

"This is how you actually kiss someone." The smirk on the villain's face may have been merciless as he pulled away, but it was clear he was trying to break the tension that they could have sliced through with a blade. 

God, the hero could barely breathe. She never knew something that felt almost forbidden could feel so right. She was scared the villain's response had been a trick and more scared that it hadn't. She wanted to scream at him and slam her fists into his body, to split his rose-petal-like lips with a jagged streak of crimson. But more than anything, she wanted him close enough to her that they were breathing each other's air, she wanted to kiss his face again, properly this time, so that it truly felt like something, something that set the hero's nerves on fire.

The hero had pulled out her twin knives, cutting through his ropes with one, while the other remained pressed against his carotid artery, as he still remained sitting on the chair. 

Except the villain had pulled the knife out of her hand, slightly scratching himself, and he got up, twirling the knife with his hand and pressing its cold, flat edge to the hero's jaw, his breath warm on her face. "Don't fight it. That's all you've done, all I've done, and I'm sick of it." 

And in all honesty, so was she. Sick of having no one, sick of wanting someone who was right there and yet so far away, sick of pushing a knife into the skin of the same boy who had bandaged her bleeding knuckles and made fun of the stupid kids' designs etched on them, the only thing he had, the next day after it happened.

The hero nodded, slowly putting her knives away when the villain handed her the other blade back, slinging an arm around the villain's waist, surprisingly small for someone so athletically built, but not any less attractive. 

"Let's go home. I mean, my place," the villain suggested, utterly exhausted, but a hint of a smile was still there in his words as he wrapped his arm around the hero's shoulder, his fingers gripping onto the fabric of her suit a little playfully. 

And the hero simply nodded, mirroring the villain's own soft smile.

Emotions are hard to understand, no rules or logic existent that could ever explain the power they hold over a person; the power that the heart exercises so ruthlessly over the mind. And yet nearly nothing could ever leave one feeling so certain, so absolutely euphoric to the point that not even the entire world would seem to matter compared to the one person love tethers you to. 

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[allandoflimbo]

Never Again (1)

Pairing// Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Type of story// Multi-Chapter

Bucky and Y/N hate each other. A lot. This isn’t your average enemies to lovers story. This is an enemies and lovers story. It will be dark. There will be sex.

Never Again masterlist || updated every thursday

Bucky

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Asa Nusara.” Bucky’s voice was like warm honey laced in gold.

“Your attempt at lying is becoming more unconvincing by the day, James.” Asa replied jokingly, but with a serious tone.

Bucky frowned as the back of his fingers traced over her dark beautiful skin on her cheeks. His thumb runs over her brow bone and then up over her head.

A beautiful black tattoo in the shapes of waves followed over her skull.

He traced those as well.

Asa could feel her heart accelerate as his blue eyes finally found her black ones.

Usually, he would play along with her jokes, but this time, his face stayed serious.

“I’d never lie to you, Ukatana.” He whispers.

The last word dangles in the air. The post coital energy around them envelopes the word tightly, holding onto what’s left of the conviction he’s trying to convey to her.

He feels her bare legs run in between his and she lets out a pleased sigh.

She takes his hand that’s on her face into her own hands and intertwines their fingers together.

Leaning in closer to him, she rests her forehead against his.

She thinks she’s going to fall asleep.

Bucky lets his nose slide against hers, tilting his head just slightly to capture her lips in a soft and gentle kiss.

“You really have to go in the morning?” He asks, pouting his bottom lip like a little boy.

“Ayo and Okoye need me. I need them. We need possession of the orifice necklace.” She states, her authority and dominance showing him that there is no hesitation in the matter, leaving no room for anything to get in the way.

He respected this greatly.

“I’ll be damned to find out why that necklace is so special that you must be away from me for a weekend,” he brings her hand to his lips and kisses the matte black band on the ringer finger. It was interlaced with gold vibranium, “unacceptable. you’ve only been my wife for nine days and I already have to let you go.”

Nusara chuckled.

“Forty-eight hours. It’s barely letting me go.” She leans forward and kisses him again, “I’ll return Monday morning. We have to start packing anyway to go back to Wakanda. Did you forget our beautiful home awaits us?”

“And our little goats.” Bucky adds with a small chuckle.

“The goats are to stay at the farm, James. I mean our home.”

Bucky smiles and nods slowly.

He lets go of her hand and grabs the side of her waist, bringing her in closer to him.

“I know, Asa. I know.”

Asa drapes her left arm over Bucky’s torso and rests her right cheek just over heart.

In minutes, they’re both asleep in his small Brooklyn apartment where they had fallen more in love two years ago.

~

Monday evening rolls around faster than Bucky had thought it would. With packing and getting things ready for his move back to Wakanda, it took up most of his time and it kept him busy.

He had packed most of his things. He left most of Asa’s stuff untouched as to not invade her privacy, nor the Dora Milaje’s.

The black and red cape he was gifted on his wedding day to wear is the last thing he packs away into suitcase before he hears a knock at the front door.

He’s confused as he look at the door.

All his friends weren’t in town so it couldn’t be Sam or Wanda. The Thunderbolts haven’t been together in months, and Yelena was oversees.

Asa never knocked.

Bucky, with the help of his job to the government, had special biometric locks installed at his apartment so she would just use that to get in.

A knock wasn’t necessarily normal so the uneasy feeling he gets is expected.

Letting out a deep breath, he finishes zipping up the bag and stands up on sturdy legs before making his way over to the door.

When he opens it, standing there are Nakia and Ayo holding their vibranium spear, their postures high and head straight.

Standing in front of them is Shuri.

Aside from the formal arrival, what pushes Bucky’s nerves off the edge is Ayo’s obvious tear streaked cheeks.

His stomach sinks.

Hard.

“White wolf.” Shuri’s tone when she calls Bucky his title is sturdy but soft.

He knows that tone all to well.

Bucky ignores her completely, his trained eyes fixing on Ayo. Through much training and durability, she looks strong and powerful, but Bucky’s experience quickly helps him see the falt in her facade.

Her inexperience to hide emotion is in her eyes and the way she is currently blinking.

Bucky has a gut feeling but he won’t listen to it unless it’s said.

He puffs out his chest and his eyes stay on Ayo.

“Where’s Asa and Okoye?” Bucky asks Ayo. But Ayo is staring over his shoulder, unmoving, “Ayo-”

“Sergeant Barnes-” Shuri starts again.

“Okoye is back in Wakanda already.” Ayo responds, cutting Shuri off.

Bucky’s expression doesn’t change but his left eye twitches slightly. He can feel his hand tightening around his doorknob.

Nakia, Ayo, and Shuri step foot into the apartment, forcing Bucky to take a step backwards.

The door is closed behind them.

It’s then, in the privacy and intimate setting of his and Asa’s home, that Bucky’s walls start to deteriorate a little more. His breathing picks up and his eyes are switching back and forth between the three women.

They also are less stiff and Shuri’s eyes soften.

Time goes by slowly as nothing is said.

Bucky’s practically huffing out of his nose now as he take another step back.

“No.” Is all he says. It’s a low growl.

“I’m sorry—” Shuri barely gets her words out before Bucky’s palms goes to his eyes and he closes his lids tightly.

“No.” He says loudly.

“Bucky—” Shuri tries again.

Her words this time are cut off by a very audible shaky inhale through his nose.

Oh, he was going to cry.

They watch as his fingers grip into his hair, his eyes finally opening and gaze gluing down to the ground.

“I’m very sorry, Sargent Barnes.” Nakia.

His face turns into an angry snarl as he turns around.

“Damn it, damn it,” he repeats. His left hand grabs desperately as his hair, “damn it!” He yells so loudly it bounces off the walls.

His vision is compromised now. Water is all he can see.

Pain and anger is all he can feel.

Ayo isn’t one to easily flinch, but Bucky’s kick to the glass coffee table does it for her.

“No, no, no,” he keeps saying to himself. Shuri swallows hard, wiping a lone tear off her face that had fallen during his last yell, “Shuri, no.” Bucky whimpers as he finally turns around to face them. Their heart breaks as they watch him finally burst into tears, “please.”

Bucky looks like he’s moments away from collapsing, his face paling dramatically, when Shuri’s hands goes to his shoulders. She gives him a sympathetic look as she guides them both slowly to sit down on his couch. The shards of glass breaks underneath her shoes and the soft fabric of the sofa underneath them, is the only sound for a few seconds until they are finally next to each other.

He falls apart.

Bucky brings her in for a tight hug.

She swallows thickly as his sobs echo loudly around the room.

They don’t know how long they stay like that.

It feels like hours until he speaks again.

Eyes bloodshot, he stares at his hands between his knees as he picks at them.

He’s also cried out; heart and soul deflated.

“How’d it happen?” He asks, ripping off the bandaid.

His voice is hoarse and he sounds rough.

“We had traced down the orifice. We were just about to enter the chamber it was located in when our entire system was breached,” Nakia states with a steady voice, “it caught us all off guard. He—” she stops right away and Bucky’s eyes drifts from his hands to the space above it. He knows she’s talking about whoever it was that murdered his wife, “It— we don’t know who the figure was—it wore all black, covered head to two, not nearly as skilled but it caught us off guard enough that when they came in—” Bucky’s face twists at this, he almost looks disgusted and physically repulsed by what he was hearing, “she was the one inside —it was fast. Too fast for reaction.”

There’s a long silence. They can feel his fury as Bucky slowly stares up at Nakia.

“You’re telling me,” He sounds menacing and cold, “an incompetent criminal in comparison to the Dora Milaje, caught my wife and her friends off guard enough to kill her in a fraction of a second and escape fast enough for you to not even see who the hell they were?”

His loud voice reverbs around them.

They felt guilty, and just as pained as him.

Nakia swallows thickly and blinks away the tears in her eyes.

“They were fast.”

“I heard you the first damn time!” He screams.

Ayo’s spear comes down hard in front of Nakia as a form of protection.

Bucky stands abruptly and points behind him as he stares at Nakia.

“My wife was in there alone! You let her go in alone! You left her without protection, without guarding her back. You let her with a will of your own step into that room and didn’t think to keep your guard up after a breaching, and watched her get killed!”

A spear is placed horizontally to his throat by Ayo and Bucky swallows hard.

He knows better than to react this way.

These girls weren’t just the most powerful women he had ever known in his life and deserved the upmost respect, especially after what they’ve done for him, but they were his friends.

He’s being emotional and irrational.

“James. Step back.” Ayo says. Bucky does as he is told, more tears falling out of his eyes, “Nakia wasn’t even on this mission.”

Bucky looks at Ayo. He sniffs.

“But you were, Ayo.”

Ayo swallows hard.

“I was,” her voice is less uneven, “And what she is telling you is the truth. None of us saw it coming. I don’t think the person that was there even realized we were either. I’m so truly sorry. I know you are in pain, and so are we. If we could’ve prevented it we would’ve, but it happened very quickly. She was killed before we realized someone else was even in there.”

He didn’t know what he wanted to do anymore. As his heart trembled, Bucky wasn’t sure if he wanted to set the world on fire or himself.

He steps away from them and walks over to his window. He looks outside into the Manhattan skyline.

He bites at his bottom lip as he tries to control more bottled emotions.

He refuses to look around his apartment, but it’s hard to when he sees some of the reflection of it in the glass.

It was a reminder that Asa had been here just two days ago, living a domestic life with him.

His heart pains again and he whimpers.

It takes him minutes to realize Ayo had come up behind him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I’m assuming they got away? Since you don’t know who they are.” They don’t have to verbally respond. The silence is already an answer for him, “and that they got the necklace.”

Pointless mission.

Failed mission.

With a cost- a loss.

His wife.

“How did it happen?” He asks, emotionless.

He had to find out information. He needed it. No matter how hard.

“Gun shot.”

He swallows the knock in his throat and keeps his back rigid, eyes never deviating from the skyline.

“Where?” He asks next. There’s a long silence and he can feel his anger brewing even further. Brewing for the stranger that did this to his wife, “where?”

“Her skull.”

Bucky cringes.

“Fuck.” He breathes out.

He runs a hand down his face.

“And Okoye?”

“Stray bullet grazed her cheek. She’s in recovery.”

~

Bucky’s welcome to Wakanda a week later was much more than warming.

Everyone was heartfelt and kind to him. He appreciated it, he always would from this country, but he also expected no less.

They felt pity for a young widower. For a loss of one of their greatest in their force.

The loss of a powerful woman, the greatest he’s ever known; fallen to a bullet.

He never would’ve expected this. Not in a million years.

The funeral is a nightmare. People greet him as if they’ve known him forever, some he never even knew. They don’t give him space and they mention her name each time.

He could only handle so much.

He hates thinking about it, but her coffin is gorgeous, laced in gold and red vibranium.

He watches, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, as its lowered to its resting place at the end of the evening, just before sun fall.

Bucky doesn't take off his wedding ring.

He doesn’t think he ever will.

The Wakandans still allow him to reside in the city if he chooses. He’s surprised they’ve even given him an option since what happened with Zemo. Asa had been, for the most part, his plane ticket in.

His and Asa’s beautiful apartment remains untouched and brand new. It grazes the highest of clouds as it overlooks the rivers and hills he’s learned to call home.

Now, this beauty reminds him of his lost love. It physically breaks his heart.

Looking into the bright orange sun, he’s reminded of the stolen nights in the huts.

He remembers their long nights where they would help their goats and sheep give birth to their little babies, when she had taught him how to bottle feed them.

When they had fallen deeply in love and had their beautiful Wakandan wedding.

Being here, in their apartment, without her, felt wrong.

“Hey.” Sam’s voice startles Bucky for a moment before he turns around to face his best friend.

Sam gives him a weak but genuine smile.

Bucky sticks his hands in his pockets and looks back into the setting Sun.

“Doesn’t feel right being here anymore.” Bucky feels that anger again, the one that makes him physically boil.

“What’s next?” Sam asks.

“I’m going to find him, Sam. I’m going to find who did this and stick a knife through his heart.”

~

You

Your life was destroyed at nineteen years old.

Up until then, you served as a Hydra operative. Your father was one and Hyda is all you’ve known. You were taught by them and trained by them. Willingly, you stayed. You worked as a recruited spy, performing mediocre missions for them when needed.

It had been going well for you, until your nineteenth birthday.

You were taken in the middle of the night, drugged and blind folded.

When you woke up, your living hell began.

You woke up in a dark cell.

To your left was a bolted door that probably weighed hundreds of pounds. To the right of that was a little metal bucket.

The stench was unbearable and you were freezing cold.

The walls around you were cement, molded, and so was the floor underneath you. You were terrified as you continued to awaken from your drugged state, finally gathering the energy to begin crawling at the chains around your wrist.

You were chained.

You began hyperventilating.

You became frantic as you tried getting them off.

“Hayden.” You stopped. The voice got your attention and you looked towards the door. It began to creak open. You found yourself moving away from the man, your legs flailing wildly as you tried to get away, but he kept getting closer. “Hayden.” He says again.

“That’s—that’s not my name.” You stutter out, throat dry like sand paper.

“It is now.” He crouches down in front of you and repeats, “Hayden.”

You didn’t have the patience for games.

“Where am I?” You ask, stronger this time.

“You’re at a Hydra facility, agent.”

You frown.

You were being held captive, treated as an enemy. Why were you taken against your will? By your own people?

“I don’t understand. I would’ve just come if asked.”

The man chuckles and shakes his head.

“Not for this,” he leaches forward for a strand of your hair and rolls it between his fingers, “you were chosen specifically for this, but we wanted to make sure you wouldn’t back out.”

You felt pride.

“As long as it’s in the desire of Hydra and helps us, I most likely wouldn’t back out.” You say matter-of-factly.

It’s then that you realize your face is covered entirely. The only thing peaking out are your eyes. That’s why your voice was muffled.

The dark eyed man nods his head.

“You were chosen as test subject zero eight seven six for the orifice experiment.” He says.

You’ve heard of it before.

“Human enhancement, but with the capability of healing and given any power of their choosing, based off placebo and free will. Mental. It’s energy is off psychosis.” You say.

“Correct. Which is why it needs to be a hydra agent. Your power of your choosing will side with our shared desires. Your controlled power will originate from this,” he holds something up in front of you.

It’s a gold chain, and dangling off of it is a red stone, circle shaped.

It shines, its light bouncing off your face.

It was gorgeous.

You find yourself reaching for it naturally before he pulls it away from you.

“We will train you, little girl. Then we’ll begin experiments. But between experiments, your endurance will be put to the test.”

You could only frown as you heard the door open again.

When your eyes landed on the new guest of arrival, a shiver ran down your spine.

You weren’t star struck.

You were repulsed.

Despite the urge to get away as far as possible, his blue eyes were startling in the darkness of the room. They were piercing and hard to look away from.

You had only ever heard about him.

Hydra’s biggest and best asset.

The man who not only surpassed you in every way possible, but believed in everything you didn’t.

It didn’t matter to you that he was now part of Hydra, because in reality he wasn’t.

He, Bucky, believed in everything you didn’t. This man in front of you right now was just a puppet.

You never understood how Hydra could accept that.

You hate everything he stood for as both Bucky and the winter soldier.

You were equally envious of this Weapon as you were disgusted by it.

He had only gotten so close to you before you quickly hocked up what you had in your throat and spat it at his shoe.

“Slap her.” The man instructs loudly, “Enough to hurt, but not kill.”

Oh, bring it.

You grunted before the pain escaped in your skull. Your head fell back against the wall and you could taste the iron in your mouth.

Your vision went black for a fraction of a second.

“Hayden, this is just the start. He will make you endure pain so you can build your endurance and tolerance to it. And you’ll learn to take it.”

You didn’t enjoy this part of your gift.

You spat at the winter soldier’s feet again, this time blood was mixed in with your saliva.

“Hit me again, you piece of shit.” You grit your teeth at the soldier.

The man looks at Bucky and nods at him, and as the soldier is about to hit you, you kick his arm away, making him fall forward. You wrap your legs tightly around his head.

You let out a growl as you began to choke him with your thighs.

“Fight back, soldat.” You grunt through clenched teeth.

The soldier obliged, easily slipping from your grip and wrapping his left hand around your trachea.

You gasped for breath as you stared at those soulless eyes.

Blue like the sky on a sunny day.

Your least favorite kind of weather.

“Tomorrow will be your first dose, Hayden.” The man kicks the Weapon’s leg to let you go, “Soldat.”

You gasped again as his grip left your throat and you were able to breathe again.

“Rot in hell, you disgusting pig.” You say hoarsely through burning pain.

~

You were excited to be Hydra’s next test subject, and it started off well.

After your first dose of the burning drug, you became faster and gained more dexterity. You’ve never felt anything like that very first dose. You were convinced, you were all convinced, it was going to be a success.

But that was also when the accident happened.

You knew it was an accident when it happened, and not intentional, because you knew for a fact that Hydra wanted you in prime condition. They wanted you trained, but they didn’t want anything getting in the way of the experiment failing.

It happened fast.

You had been in the room again with the soldier. Your face was still covered, minus your eyes. You figured they wanted your identity hidden.

Bucky’s eyes never left yours. Not when you were punching him or when he kicked your head.

He had stood up, stepped on your cheek with his boot, and forced your face into the ground.

You’ve never felt any pain like it.

You grabbed his leg, pulling him down onto you when you felt that searing pain in your lower stomach.

You were gasping and breathing as your wide eyes stared back into his cold ones.

What the fuck did he just do?

“Soldat!” The shout came and the soldier quickly pulled himself off of you, knife still in hand.

They had punished him in a severe way that night, as deserved, and you were taken away to the medical wing.

For the first time in your short life, you almost showed a reaction of sorrow when after your surgery the doctor that told you he had shredded your entire uterus.

They had to use 15 litters of blood to keep you stable.

After three weeks in recovery, and being of no use to your people, you were finally allowed to resume training again.

This time, the soldier was only pulled out for you every once in a while.

Each time, you wanted to kill him. Kill him for being a disgrace to existence and for taking away something you never really wanted until it was gone.

After your second dose, you were the same in terms of strength and skill, but when three weeks went by without another dosage, they could sense something was wrong.

You started getting sick.

You were dying.

It didn’t take much for everyone to realize you were being poisoned by the serum.

Wether it was the incident with the soldier that threw it off, it was never confirmed, but suspected.

After your fourth dosage, you got better again, almost like a cure, and you were able to go three and a half weeks without getting sick.

With each dosage you stayed better for longer, but that was all it did for you.

Hydra took you off the mission five months later, choosing they’d terminate the project all together. You weren’t gaining more powers and it was killing you instead.

Issue with that was you now needed the dosage to keep surviving. After your eighth and last dosage at the facility, you’d knew you’d only be okay for two months before your body started dying again.

They promised to help you by sending you what you needed to keep you going. By your first year, you noticed your cure time was no longer prolonging. After each dosage, you’d only be able to be okay for four months before you got sick again.

The feeling you got when you were sick and being poisoned was unbearable.

It’s been ten years, and you still weren’t used to it.

You never had to worry about a lack of shortage or help since Hydra still had smart scientists prepping your medicine for you.

That is, until exactly three months ago when you got the news that the orifice dose was being discontinued due to lack of certain resources.

“They expect me to just die?”

“There is one way. One way we can try. The orifice necklace. Its power is immeasurable. Some of the strongest on earth. Maybe it could even cure you.” Your closest friend, and your favorite Hydra agent partner, Ivan says.

The orifice necklace.

“Gabrïël destroyed that after he found out my mission was a failure.” You say.

“That wasn’t the real one, Hayden. I can tell you where it is, but the issue is, there are others after it now, too.”

“Who?”

“Wakanda. Even some of the lasting Avengers. Other spies working for the government. Sword, even.”

“Tell me where it is. I can get there first.”

The night before you left for Mexico for the orifice necklace, you stared at what little you had left of your medication in your medicine cabinet.

You had two doses left, one which you would need to take in four weeks.

If you didn’t get that necklace soon, you were dead in nine months.

You wouldn’t dare tell a soul, but you were terrified.

Your hand trembled as you held one of the remaining doses.

You didn’t want to die, and least of all, you didn’t want to run into anyone while trying to retrieve it.

One of the people which was a complete waste and a vermin in your eyes.

You took a deep breath, and put the bottle back in the cabinet. You walked back to your room and sat on your bed.

You began looking through your photos on your phone.

It was a photo of you and Leo, your best friend, just a week before his murder.

He was killed by the attack in New York by the Avengers nearly a decade ago.

This was your reason for trying to get that necklace.

You would keep yourself alive for him.

Placing your phone down next you, you then roll up your left sleeve.

A large scar runs down the skin.

He had done that after your third dose.

You had then stabbed him in his thigh. You felt great when you’d done it, but when you were finally alone in your cell, you cried for the first time.

…

Bucky Barnes.

That’s what his name was.

~

“Get me in, Ivan.” You spoke through your com, “I can get out just fine with my speed, but I need it open first.”

“I’m trying, Y/N. You need to bare with me. Try going a little to your right.” Ivan says.

You roll your eyes and hold your arms a little higher. You had already gotten inside the coal mine and you were standing just outside the chamber, but through the back.

To avoid any possible run ins with the cocky avengers, you both decided this was the best approach.

You were lasering thorough the thick rocks, but the laser was acting up.

Just when you’re about to to complete the circle, it goes out again.

“Jesus, fuck, Ivan.”

“I’m doing my best here. I’m pulling what power I can without the risk of calling attention. Even if that side of the freaks aren’t here, if Hydra even finds out too, we’re screwed. They don’t know we’re here stealing this.”

“Don’t know why they never tried to get it before. Also, do you really think the avengers are even here yet? They don’t have the same power of jets they used to have when their lord and savior Stark was still around. And Hydra will give me a promotion for this. That is, if this necklace really works and actually saves my life.” Your voice drifts our towards the end.

“You’ll be fine.” Ivan says quietly, “Got it!” Just as he says that, the power returns to your laser and it finishes the cut. You keep your left hand on the rock so it doesn’t fall and make a loud noise. You lay it gently down on the floor.

You stand back and look at it.

“I guess it’s big enough for me to crawl through.”

“Make it fast.” Ivan says.

With a sigh you stick the laser in your back leather pocket and crawl down onto all fours. You shimmy your way through the whole and into the chamber Ivan led you to. It’s dark, smells like wet earth, and is humid. Your eyes dart around the room, until finally you find a marble box on a stand on the far right side of the room.

You were thankful for your enhanced eye sight. You knew a regular person wouldn’t be able to see it right away.

You could feel your excitement brewing.

This was your ticket to survival.

You didn’t want to die.

You open the box, and you feel the tears brewing in your eyes when you see it.

A beautiful red stone.

You take it into your hand. You don’t feel different yet, but you figured it takes time.

A very small sound of a foot on a small rock has you quickly going for your gun on your waist.

Pulling your face and hair covering higher over your head, you blindly aim your gun behind you, giving away three shots.

You know reaction is reckless and stupid. Under normal circumstances, you wouldn't haven’t pulled the trigger that soon, or at all. But with that necklace in your hand, you were afraid of losing it.

You were desperate. Your action was irrational as you shot at whatever was behind you, and escaping through your man made hole.

And then you ran and ran in the darkness.

The orifice necklace was right there, right in your hand.

“I have it, Ivan. I have it!” You shouted happily as you ran towards your jet.

“Make it quick, Y/N. I see something here on my radar.”

“On it.” You reply back curtly.

You retrace your steps with practice. The second you’re back in your seat, the sigh that leaves your mouth is palpable.

Ivan’s already in the pilot seat, getting the aircraft ready for take off.

You pull the necklace out of your jacket and stare at it in your hand.

Then something happens.

Your stomach drops.

There in your hand, the necklace begins to unravel into several pieces.

The red stone is the only thing still in tact, but in it is a message you hadn’t seen before.

Nice try.

~

Bucky

It’s been the hardest month of Bucky’s life since he’s been back.

He left Wakanda the day after the funeral.

He had decided that Brooklyn would be the best option for him.

His first home.

He still hung out with Sam and Wanda, and on occasion he kept contact with Yelena.

Him and Sam were the closest, though. They went on rogue missions together for the government and did their part when needed.

Every now and then, Peter Parker would stop by and say hello. It’s not like Queens was far. A whole different world, for sure, but he was practically a neighbor. Peter was like the little brother Bucky never had. It took him a second to warm up to Bucky, though.

Nobody would ever get closer to him as much as Steve or Sam ever did.

Getting used to life again after Asa was terrible.

Bucky even had to clean his internet history to make it.

They had googled places for puppy adoptions and vacation spots just the days before her death.

Bucky wouldn’t think about puppies for a long time now. Nor any vacations.

He just wanted to be alone.

The scarce missions with Sam helped some to distract him, but he’d still come home tired and depressed.

Everyday he’d try to contact Shuri or Ayo to find out any status of the mystery person from the chamber. When every-time he’d hear the same thing “nothing yet”, he’d do his own research, and also ask Sam for help.

One day, the answer was different.

“Hey, Buck. We’ve got a possible lead.”

He felt several emotions.

Excitement, fear, and anger.

For some reason, the confirmation of an actual killer reminded him that this wasn’t some nightmare he was just dreaming.

This was real.

Bucky had never sped so fast on his motorcycle before. Running a few red lights and nearly getting hit by a suv was the least of his concerns right now.

When he arrives to where the mission meetings have been held lately, Fury is already sitting there with Sam to his right.

“The Orifice Necklace,” Fury starts, a photo of it is on the screen behind him. Bucky eyes it like it’s the most disgusting thing he’s ever laid his eyes on. What was so special about this piece of shit necklace? “It’s a supernatural stone that releases some kind of healing power. Wakanda has known about it longer because of security reasons. They don’t want this in the wrong hands,” Bucky still doesn't understand the hype, but he understands it’s danger now in the wrong hands. Whoever it was that killed Asa really wanted it for some self gain, “Under certain circumstances, they’ve decided to ask us for help. The orifice necklace that was at the chamber in Mexico was a fake. The real one was taken we suspect maybe months before. We actually think it’s in the position of some undercover agent in Sword, which makes this tricky. Reasons for suspicions aren't disclosed other than sword members reporting strange incidents since a few months ago.” Fury says.

Bucky scoffs

“I know, Barnes, this isn’t easy for you—”.

“What?” Bucky practically laughs out the word, “you think going after the person who killed Asa is hard for me?”

“You aren’t to kill that target. That person doesn’t even have it. Their death is no use to us. Bring them in alive and alive only.”

“Are you going to tell me where?” Bucky asks.

“You sure Bucky is the right person for this? He’s too close to this case.” Sam says.

“You’ll both go together.” Fury answers. He turns back to Bucky, “There will be a gala in Venice next weekend. We suspect that the person who knows who has the real necklace, the person from the chamber, will also be at this event,” Fury doesn’t lose eye contact with Bucky when he says the next part very slowly; “We suspect them to be Hydra affiliated.”

Bucky’s jaw clenched and his nose flares.

“I expect no less from an inhumane group of people.” He’d say worst, and he wants to, but he’s feeling emotional again. He quickly rubs his nose over the back of his hand and moves up closer to Fury, clearing his throat, “Name?”

“We only have one name that came up in suspicion, based off an experiment that was done ten years ago. It was in a file we found during one of our hydra facility raids. Experiment Orifice. The subject’s name is Hayden,” Bucky takes in a deep breath as he hears the name for the first time.

“Any distinctive features to watch out for?”

“A scar on their left arm. Starting from the palm to the elbow. That’s all we know.”

“Bucky. You’re really sure you want to be the one to do this?” Sam asks, unsure about this whole thing.

“Who else are we gonna call, Sam? Wanda’s lost her shit. Peter’s a bartender now. Who the fuck knows where thor is. We have no options anymore. Even Maria is dead,” Bucky stands up, “We’ll go.”

[liliumsabyss]

In The Small Moments

Part 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5,

Kaz Brekker x Gn Reader

Summary: Moulin Rouge/Satine Inspired!Reader and Kaz go undercover at a ball only for things to go terribly wrong.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48845809/chapters/123220936

Word Count: 5.16K

Tw: Angst and Fluff, Swearing, Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Sex Work, No Smut, Mentions of Death, Forced Marriage, Manipulation, PTSD, reader called handsome but could be interrupted as in the old timey gender neutral way, maybe OOC Kaz Brekker, and Pekka Rollins

A/n: This is inspired by Moulin Rouge the musical both adaptations and the place. I imagine the characters to be more like 25 in this.

Early in the morning of Ketterdam fog hung over the streets, while most towns would be asleep, Ketterdam never slept. There was always laughing from a bar, hushed whispers from allies, the drunken shouts of yells, screams of a not so lucky passerbye, honey sweet calls from brothels, that was the barrel, that was the life you knew. You were awake at your desk running through the plans that a certain man had given you. The certain man who was feared by many, he had created numerous enemies yet remained in power, that man being the bastard of the Barrel, Kaz Brekker. And unfortunately for you the man your heart belonged to. You hadn’t quite been a dregger or a crow more like a person of select skills for even selector hire or in other words you sometimes applied these skills but only for Kaz Brekker. Not to say you didn’t get along with the crows, in fact you got along amazingly. They quite enjoyed your “refreshing” presence as they stated, the best term to explain your relation would be friends of some sort.

Otherwise you worked as a bartender and occasional waiter when it got crowded in the Crow Club. It wasn't anything much, however you always noticed a few extra gold coins that appeared in your pocket on payday. Many days after the Crow Club closed for the night or at that point what had been very early morning, it lay empty, Kaz’s companions off somewhere leaving the two of you in amicable silence as he slowly sipped on the strongest liquor on the shelf while you did whatever cleaning up needed to be done, many of times conversations would eventually spur. And then he found out about your particular skill set slowly once on a busy night you were waiting tables when a customer was getting a little too handsy with you after you repeatedly told him to stop Kaz was about to intervene only to see you grab the customers arm twisting it behind his body and smashing his head into the hard wooden edge of the gambling table breaking his nose. Most of the crowd at the table turned stunned, you quickly dropped the stuff off, gave a quick bow in apologies as you left, Kaz stood slightly impressed. Another time you had forgotten your key to open the club before the sun had even come up, you squatted down so you were eye level with the lock, quickly you rummaged through the pockets of your heavy woollen coat finding a random thin hooped earring you picked up on the street and a paperclip you quickly unbent the paperclip and pulled the thin hool straight as well little did you know Kaz was approaching when he spotted you crouched at the door however he saw you pull out the two random objects to his own confusion as you pushed them into the locks fiddling with the tumblers till you heard a click, you stood up and to the others shock opened the door, and then walked in. The third time he was talking to Jesper after the crow club had closed for the night and not bothering to care whether you were there. Jesper was discussing how the Landercrofts, a very wealthy family that were the head of one of the gangs, were having their annual ball in which the crows were planning to rob their vault during the party. Jesper had gotten his hands on false invitations and was stating how the dress code was black and white when you spoke up stating that the dress code this year was red, the black and white dress code was a rumour to set apart who had gotten invited and who was sneaking in. When Kaz and Jesper inquired into where you had gotten that information you explained how your connections made you quite knowledgeable of the barrel and many drunks let things slip. And the fourth time, was when you were carrying a glass from a table once the club was closed when you tripped the glass shattering at your feet Kaz who was by you when you tripped at the same time as you quickly belt down to pick up the glass out of an instinct. You both immediately reached for the largest piece when your hand brushed against his glove and he flinched only he really didn't. It was a slight twinge but less than usual so he tried it out again prying the glass out of your hands and once again he was a little nerved but better than he had with pretty much anyone else. So Kaz could only see one thing to do with your talents and would hire you on the occasion he saw fit which was becoming more and more often. Tonight was the ball that the crows had prepared for months for and the one in which you provided consistent information for, Kaz only saw it fit as you would be one of the ones to directly infiltrate the ball.

Hours passed by as you ran through the plans over and over again before you knew it, it was evening just a few hours before the ball. You frantically got ready scolding yourself for being so careless with watching the time. You grabbed the blood red outfit that laid on your bed for the past day delivered personally by Kaz. The brunette male had also delivered the red mask that was decorated in black markings intricately painted and sculpted; mixed with the outfit there was no way that Kaz paid for it just for you for this one event, someone had to owe him a debt for this. You quickly got yourself ready like you had used to, it had been a long time since you wore anything like this and you were glad for it. A sharp knock came from your door as you scrambled stuffing any possible tools you’d need into various hidden pockets. Opening the old door which let out an unpleasant creak revealed Kaz in a black and red suit to match your outfit.

“ Good your ready we need to go” Kaz let out curtly which was not what he wanted to say yet it was all that he could let out in the cold streets of Ketterdam where anyone could hear anything and take things the wrong way but for what he was going to say they surely would have took it the correct way. You gave a swift nod, looking behind him to see a black horse drawn carriage, Nina and Jesper at the driver's seat waiting impatiently for you two to climb into the back.

“ I thought Inej and Jesper were also supposed to be going in with us?” You questioned, confused at Inej’s lack of presence and Jesper at the reins in a not ball ready outfit.

“ They will be going in just not with, now if we want to be on time we must move.” Kaz responded as he turned walking away climbing into the back of the carriage you followed in tow closing the door as you entered.

Sitting on the plush cushions you ran your hand against the seat and the wooden sill that elegantly framed the window, you breathed in the stale air of the carriage the feeling, the smell had all been so familiar to all those days and nights it was honestly shocking you could forget it for this long. Kaz eyed you silently, watching your face twinge in familiarity however that look was soon gone in your eyes and an eerie tint of hatred flickered. For the rest of the ride you just peered out the window mindlessly. The lights from the mansion shimmered as you approached in your carriage many other carriages also appeared to be dropping guests off. The carriage slowly stopped to a stuttering halt pausing as the carriage rocked slightly giving away that either Jesper or Nina had gotten off their seats. The carriage door swung open, Nina holding it wide open. You put the mask on quickly looking over to Kaz who had done the same, his mask being black decorated with red instead, the inverse of yours. The man swiftly climbed out of the carriage waiting with his hand outreached ready to help you out of it as the carriage hobbled. Nina eyed the two of you in surprise as you took his hand carefully stepping down the wobbling carriage, lights poured carefully out of the manor barley illuminating the pathways that led to the large doors that were cracked and every so often would open letting light flood onto the party goers entering the masquerade. Kaz left his elbow out as you tucked your arm into it carefully so as not to look suspicious to other attendees. The brunette male held the invitations in his opposite hand, grasping them tightly. Stiffly walking up to the doors large men who had large swords sheathed in leather at their sides; ready to be pulled out against any threat to the people of the manor. The guards had displeased faces as they stood tall, intimidating, snatching invitations out of the hands of masked figures. Shortly You and Kaz stood before a guard who stood with her arms crossed and the corner of her lips pulled into a tight frown. Kaz stared at her equal in expression for a long couple of seconds before swiftly putting his arm up the two pale beige invitations decorated in gold swirls with hints of red trickled on them the women to the invitations inspecting them carefully front and back before taking out a wooden plank the split into two three quarters of the way she wedged one of the invitations between the the slit in the plank harshly squeezing it together giving it back to Kaz’s outstretched hand revealing it to have a red seal marking the paper, the guard did the same to the other begrudgingly knocking on the large painted metal and wood doors causing them to slowly open. You and the stiff brunette behind you slipped through into the manor. Laughter and music filled the air swirling around the stuffy air of the large ballroom, gowns splaying out from being turned by their suit and gown clad partners. Standing at the top of the marble stairs looking down upon the people down below, the shoulder that pressed against you that was tensed loosened slightly with a relieved breath. Turning your head to look at Kaz he slanted his head to you in return giving a sharp nod before you both took equally swift steps toward the stairs before descending into the madness of the ballroom. Kaz took a step away from the stairs and away from you his red gloved hand offering his hand with his other arm plastered behind him only then did you noticed the absence of his cane, you gave him a confused look to which he took a step to you whispering below his breath.

“ We cannot afford to look suspicious.” Kaz said lowly pulling up the leg of his suit revealing a slight gleam of metal which appeared to be a brace only letting it fall quickly before taking a step back to once again offer his hand. People whirled around behind him but you could only see him under the warm chandelier light that illuminated the marble floor and sparkling cloth.

“ Of course” You replied fondly to both the gesture and his comment, gently taking his hand taking several steps out onto the floor before turning toward each other. The song that had been playing had finished partners taking a step back bowing or curtsying to the other. The music picked up again with a medium pace waltz, guests flocking toward each other for the dance.

“ Do you want to lead or shall I?” The brunette in front of you commented fidgeting stiffly once again.

“ Eh doesn’t matter to me, dealer's choice.” You shrugged in response figuring that while Kaz offered he probably only knew one of those options if even considering his aversion toward contact. Kaz took a step closer lifting your hand which still lightly remained in his to his shoulders which he set on his ridged boney shoulder his hand reached for your side placing it gently and you grabbed his other hand raising it up holding it slightly below your shoulder as well as out. Kaz moved his foot toward yours, yours moving back in response to the waltzing causing a game of call and response in your movements. Your partner moved his head closer to the side of yours leaning in his mouth by your ear, you could feel a hot breath tickling your ear making a slight tinge of fluster.

“ We need to distract the Landercrofts, Alinda Landercroft and Jerad Landercoft are over by there by the fourth column from the window,” Kaz whispered carefully stopping midway to turn you a subtle gesture you understood, getting a flash of the pale couple in their 50’s, Alinda Landercoft wore a deep red chiffon and miniver gown that was adorned with ruffles while Jerad Landercroft wore a black suit with a red suit vest that matched the same shade of red of his wife, a large top hat stood on his head causing his short grey hair to sprawl out.

“ Their son Devlin is over there succumbing to his seduction activities.” The brunette gestured with his head to the blonde haired male around your age. He was surrounded by a couple of people of all genders who were fawning over him, him just giving a lazy suggestive smile to each of them. He wore a loose black top that cut low into his chest, a red vest tightened to his figure and black dress pants that were tight around his waist leaving little to the imagination a seemingly common theme with his outfit.

“ Once this song ends we should make discussion with Alinda Landercroft and her husband, their son seems busy enough.” Kaz said vaguely referring to his flirting where now a short haired person in a dress that had a very low bust and corset that pushed their chest up, rubbed said chest against his arm as you groaned in disgust.

And as the song ended the two of you briskly walked toward the older-ish couple who were laughing as you approached. You stopped before the couple you and Kaz bowing your heads slightly as the Landercroft’s looked at you in curiosity.

“ Hello Mr. Landercroft, Mrs. Landercroft,-” Kaz started as you internally sighed at his bluntness that was going to get you guys caught before you decided to interrupt him.

“ Mr Landercroft, Mrs Landercroft! Truly this gala is lovely, every year you never fail to impress me or my husband!” You exclaim in delight to them touching Kaz’s arm affectionately at the term “husband” as the brunette give you a wild slightly disturbed look at your behaviour to which you just gave him a slight unnoticeable jab to the ribs.

“ Oh well thank you my dear! But may I be reminded of who you are? My memory isn't as sharp as it used to be.” Mrs. Landercroft said jokingly as you all(except for Kaz) let out a slight chuckle at her statement.

“ Of course don’t worry I get it, I am (F/n) Casspian and this is my wonderful husband Kazmere Casspian. Between you and me he’s not much of a talker unless it comes down to business.” You tell them fake whispering the last part to Mrs. Landercroft in which she responded with a hearty laugh as Kaz rolled his eyes in response but slightly thankful you’d be handling the small talk especially with how much of a natural you were at this.

“ Same with mine dear!” She laughed out as her husband grumbled beside her as you joined her laughter faking it.

“ Now what did you say you did again?” She “asked” or in the world of the rich she was demanding you explain how you got into the party as people these rich rarely personally invite people more so often leaving it to trusted members of the household to invite people of popularity, opportunity, or influence.

“ The Casspians own that metal company. I believe I recently heard about it from an associate, I hear that it's becoming very influential.” Mr. Landercroft spoke up in a very “knowledgeable” tone which would have been knowledgeable except for the fact that none of it was true nor was it planted information just the older man trying to show off. Both you and and the brunette next to you turned your heads slightly making eye contact with a look of confusion at what bullshit this man was spewing to which you both just shrugged your shoulders slightly turning your attention back to the couple.

“ Yes and we were hoping to establish some sort of arrangement between our company and yours.” The brunette says to the elderly couple to which both looked shocked to see him speaking however you internally smiled smug at the distraction this provided the others who should be close to the vault in the eastern wing of the manor.

“ That would be great, son!” Mr. Landercroft said walking over clapping Kaz on the back was quite hard as Kaz flinched away from the contact, inching closer to you pressing tightly against your arm as you felt his arm trembling slightly against yours. You carefully snaked your hand towards his tightly clenched fist nudging it with your pinky in a silent ask. His hand slacked open in response as your hand slid into his carefully rubbing circles onto the back of his hand as his shaking slowly started to decrease as the older man in front of you ran his mouth off about his company.

“ Well son why don’t we all head to my office to hash out the details.” Mr. Landercroft stated hearty as he laughed, putting out his arm for his wife. You looked as Kaz grimacing when the others were not looking, pointing your head towards Devlin who was still wrapped up “entertaining” the people around him. The brunette nodded in understanding at your subtle gesture.

“ Mr Landercroft I would love to join however I must leave my husband up to this, an old acquaintance of mine appears to be here and I’ve never been good at business.” You speak in fake regret towards the couple furrowing your eyebrows together and letting out a tight lipped smile. The couple nodded in understanding of your statement. You turned to Kaz one of your hands still holding his slightly trembling one, you carefully grabbed his other hand with your free one looking at him for any resistance to which you received none you gently raised both his towards each other raising them to your mouth as you bowed your head maintaining eye contact with him lightly brushing your lips against his gloved hands the thick cotton rough under your lips as you placed a soft kiss on them. Kaz's eyes only widened slightly as the corners of his lips threatened to twitch into a warm small smile so faintly you may not have even realised nothing like his manic and greedy smile but a smile that held whatever pieces of his heart had been left. And so you let him go which caused a faint tug at your own heart as you watched him leave with the couple, your eyes trailing him as much as you could before he completely disappeared through the crowd. You turned back to the people whirling in endless mindless circles in lavish gowns and suits. This is the life they know and for most of them all they’ve known but it was also a life you knew, you knew it in the twisted behind closed doors way. And so you skimmed the crowd following it all the way to the blonde man who leaned in close to one of the people that was crowded around him a inch distance from their face with a smirk on his. You made up your mind and decided you would distract him yourself to avoid suspicion of just standing in the open unmoving, unamused. So you walk up to the male swaying your hips slightly, an innocent smile that holds a slight suggestiveness undertone to it cringing internally. The blonde's eyes turned wide for a second before his entire face turned into a smirk as he stopped leaning against the pillar standing straight up, his arms still crossed.

“ Well hello,” Devlin stated seductively(?), more like an attempt to be seductive to which you internally groaned with disgust. But regardless of how cringe worthy it felt you went along with it looking way in fake flusteredness.

“ Hello,” You replied meekly, crying internally at how awful the situation was. The blonde just continued to smirk as he took a step towards you.

“ Well what caused you to wander over here love.” The man replied teasingly and unfortunately for him horribly unattractive. And so your fake waltz began with your “subtle flirting” and his prowling responses. Many of the people who had been fawning over him had walked away with their noses high in the air, scoffing, at your presence it certainly hadn’t been the first time you experienced this but hopefully would be the last. And so your little dance began with slight touches, suggestive innocent sentences, and so on, all part of your careful scheme of distraction. And oh how you dreaded it weaving a web around the playboy who only expected you to be an innocent party-goer who had been entranced by him not a thief who took the role upon themself to protect the man and friends they had come to adore.

“ Well darling how about we head to somewhere more private.” The blonde said his voice dropping as he pressed his mouth against your ear, you having to clench your fingernails into your palm to resist the urge to push him away. But of course you had a role to play and so you’d play it. Your lips turned into a slight pout as you spoke up.

“ Well could we have one dance…first?” You trailed off hugging his arm, an obnoxious move but one that charmed him and most likely only his lips turned into a gentle smile.

“ Why of course.” He responded lightly as he reached his out for yours ready for you to grasp it. You of course did as the two of you walked out into the centre which had just concluded the previous dance, some couples fled to the side, some stayed and some joined. All on the floor stayed perfectly still as they were in their spots until the musicians started to play. It was a medium paced dance and one you knew well. You sighed in relief at the fact you knew the dance and one that you knew well but not only that the dance was one in which you switched partners for a large portion of it in the middle meaning you could get a break from Devlin, what a relief that would be. Your whirling and steps began him sweeping you through the other couples narrowly missing one another, Devlin holding you to him as tight as he possibly could. You on the other hand were mentally counting down the seconds till you would get to switch partners. Then finally what felt like forever you spun away only to be caught by what you’d hoped was anyone better than him. You were wrong. The man in front of you had his hair gelled matching his thick beard and moustache, his eyes stared coldly into you, a smirk upon his lips. You knew the man, you knew him very well and you hated him, you hated him for yourself, for the people he’s hurt, and for Kaz. But there he was in front of you smirking your dance partner, any sliver of hope you’d had. He didn't recognize you went out the window when you came face to face with him.

“ Rollins.” You spat at him, your face seething with anger.

“ (Y/n)” He responded back with that stupid greedy smirk on his face causing you to roll your eyes.

“ You are looking as great as ever, tell me have you taken a visit back yet since your little runaway stunt.” He commented, the words rolling off his tongue in a fake syrupy sweetness. You gritted your teeth together as you stared at his cold gaze with one equally of coldness, possibly even more.

“ Do not even speak of that to me.” You hissed at him hating how one of his hands rested on your waist and the other touching your hand, but most of all you hated how you had to continue this charade with the man, the man that the person you cared for had despised.

“ Oh you mean the Red Windmill or Ryker Knox because both are missing their shining diamond terribly,” He started your face twisting briefly into horror before going back to being enraged “ You know nobody would have ever thought you would have run away from the man much less to the bastard of the barrel.”

“ What are you talking about?” You state sharply trying to feign ignorance in masking your terror that you might’ve put a larger target on Kaz’s back.

“ Oh you know what I’m talking about, I know you quite fancy that bastard but what would dear old Ryker say about that…” He trailed off getting closer, his voice dropping lowly.

“ If you dare do something-” You began to threaten before he clicked his tongue interrupting you.

“ Well for starters I could order my men to go capture them right now don’t think I don’t know about your little heist,” he interrupted now finally so close he was whispering in your ear as you shuddered in fear at the fact you knew why all the guards looked vaguely familiar they had been Rollins in disguise of course they had, “ or you could listen to me and your dear bastard and his group of misfits will go free unharmed, accomplishing their heist, and you won’t be dragged back to Knox.”

“ What do you want?” You said out of your clenched teeth to him terrified at his threat. You couldn’t let them be caught if you could’ve done something to avoid it and you certainly wouldn't, no you couldn’t allow yourself to be dragged back to that awful awful man. You would allow yourself to take your very last breath before you’d ever go back to him willingly or unwilling. Pekka only smirked in response from the little you had seen of him pulling away from your ear for a slight moment before leaning back.

“ To leave with me. You are to leave with me and work for me,” He started as you raised your eyebrow at why he’d possibly want you, you could offer up a decent set of skills but none he needed unless it had to do with your prior “occupation” in which you’d rather die however if thats what would save your friends and your livelihood so be it. But then the man continued, “ And when you do so, when the bastard comes for you, you will tell him no, you will reject the boy and you will break his heart.”

“ Is there anything else?” You let out monotonous, staring ahead blankly ignoring the man's disgustingly hot breath against your ear before pulling away doing the turn the dance required only to slam back into him. You hadn’t questioned his condition, you knew Kaz wouldn’t come for you, and you couldn’t even blame him for it how could you, it wasn’t going to break his heart that the bartender who had some extra abilities would end up going with Pekka Rollins his enemy sure it would piss him off in terms of loyalty but break his heart no, no it wouldn’t. But of course you couldn’t fathom how much it actually would, how would you when the only time the man would let his heart bleed for you was in the moments you’d blink and for those split milliseconds his gaze would soften when it wandered to you, or when the early hours of the morning when even the crows of Ketterdam slept but he’d be the only person up his mind drifting to you so quietly, or in crowded rooms when he could pick out your voice out , out of the many drinking it in memorising it ever so thoroughly, or maybe it was when he’d watch you clean the club late at night after closing and he‘d get to indulge at letting your name roll off his tongue not having to fear the world hearing, so yes how would you know when he loved you in the quiet moments, moments of time no one in the world could detect in his terror of someone finding out. And yet he failed.

“ All you will need to do is sit there and look handsome, with the possibility of obtaining information.” He responded back his voice slick with victory his words slithering like a snake into your ear but it wasn’t words of temptation he whispered it was venom it was the venom of the life you could not live it was the venom that would kill your livelihood, kill your soul, and ultimately kill you. But it wasn’t a choice it was a sword and a vial of poison it was death for you either way one would be slow and painful, guilt, shame, and hatred would be one or the other where only you would suffer completely it would take a bit of time to kick in but only you would be harmed without having to worry about the others. And so your choice was made you acting as your own executioner.

“ I will do it, but only if you agree that they will go successfully with the heist and you will not do anything to them directly or indirectly.” You said firmly making your final stand refusing to let any loopholes get through for your effort.

“ Fine, I agree. Let us go.” he said, grabbing your wrist harshly, twisting it a little bit as he dragged you to the door as you attempted to keep looking back a few times desperately as a final last hope that one of the crows may be there but of course this was reality they were not. And so you were dragged out into the dark night by the monster who was to cage you once again. The stars and sky of Ketterdam had never looked as cold and dull as they did tonight but you attempted to ignored them as you got into the dark carriage not caring to look around just staring blankly into the void of the night, the lights of the manor disappearing behind you and the weight of what you had just agreed to started consuming you into the void of the night.

[coco-bean-1218]

Well-Behaved Women Never Make History

Chapter One: Something In The Way

Chapter Soundtrack

Summary: Claire leaves her home and starts her journey to Camp Toccoa.

A/N: Hello, everyone!! Welcome to Chapter One of Well-Behaved Women Never Make History! I am very excited to finally start this story and share it with all of you! I hope you enjoy and feel free to like, comment, and reblog!

Warnings: Swearing, period-typical behavior

Taglist: @whollyjoly @footprintsinthesxnd @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike

Credits: Moodboard 1 made by @xxluckystrike Moodboard 2 made by @footprintsinthesxnd Thank you both so much!!!

June, 1942 Detroit, Michigan 10 a.m. Eastern Time ---

Detroit's Union Station was a bustling hub of wartime activity, its vast halls echoing with the hurried footsteps of soldiers and civilians alike. The morning sun streamed through the tall windows, casting long shadows over the faces of families clustered around their loved ones. Amidst them stood Claire O'Connor, surrounded by an imposing fortress of luggage, her dark brown hair pulled back into victory rolls, dark red lipstick painted on her lips, her stoic expression betraying none of the apprehension swirling inside her. 

"Damn, Claire, are you planning to open a boutique down there?" Emma, her older sister, teased, one hand affectionately resting on her sister's shoulder while her eyes danced with mirth at the sight of the luggage.

Claire offered a wry smile, pushing up her glasses with a finger. "Hey, you know me, I'm always prepared," she quipped, the edge of her humor tinged with nerves. "You can never have too many pairs of underwear."

Their father, Mr. O'Connor, chuckled, adjusting his glasses with a patient smile. "War or no war, I don't think the enemy will care much for your matching luggage set."

"Ha-ha, very funny, Dad," Claire retorted, a tight smile betraying her simmering nerves. Peyton stood beside Claire, a single duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her posture composed—a sharp contrast to Claire's cluttered state.

Mrs. O'Connor, Claire and Emma's mother, clucked her tongue as she adjusted one of the smaller bags atop a mountainous suitcase. "You've got enough to last through the war and back, honey bee," she said, her voice equal parts exasperation and concern. "Remember, you're going to be a medic, not a debutante."

"I know, Mom. It's just—" Claire hesitated, biting her lip. "It feels like I'm packing up my entire world."

"Because you are," Peyton interjected softly, coming to stand beside Claire. Her own belongings were neatly consolidated into her single bag, the stark contrast between the friends' preparations mirroring their differing paths. Peyton's mom stood a few feet away, her pride battling the sorrow in her eyes.

"First time for everything, right?" Claire continued, her attempt at levity falling flat in her own ears. Her gaze shifted between the faces of her family and Peyton, trying to memorize them before the journey ahead.

"Exactly. It's an adventure, Claire," Peyton replied, reaching out to give Claire's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Just think of the stories we'll have to share."

"Right," Claire forced a chuckle. "Yours will probably be publishable. Mine will be too bloody to print."

"Your sense of humor is as dark as ever," Peyton replied.

The arrival of Peyton's train sliced through the air, the shrill whistle echoing off the station walls. The machine billowed steam like a specter of change, heralding the imminent departure. Everyone's attention turned to the locomotive, its metallic body gleaming beneath the Michigan sun.

"Train for Des Moines now boarding!" the announcement cut through their conversation with the sharpness of a knife. 

"Guess that's my cue," Peyton said, her usual grace faltering just a bit. 

"Promise me you'll write?" Claire's voice was steady, but her brown eyes betrayed her anxiety. 

"Every chance I get," Peyton promised, pulling Claire into a fierce hug. "And don't go falling for any charming soldiers without telling me first."

"Who, me?" Claire managed a smirk. "Charm isn't exactly my Achilles' heel, you know that."

"I know, but stranger things have happened," Peyton said with a knowing look. "Just promise me you won't shut yourself off from the possibility of love."

"Oh, I'll keep an eye out for any dashing heroes trying to sweep me off my feet," Claire replied dryly. "But don't hold your breath."

With a final squeeze, Peyton released her friend and turned to her mother, enveloping her in a long hug before stepping back with a brave nod. 

"Go get 'em, journalist!" Claire called after her, her teasing tone belying the tightness in her chest.

Peyton turned at the steps of the train, grinning broadly. "Wait for my bylines, Claire! They'll be front page before you know it!"

As Peyton disappeared into the train, Claire watched the doors slide shut, her heart sinking with the finality of the moment. A lump formed in her throat as she waved goodbye to Peyton, her best friend whom she had known since childhood. The train let out a low rumble, lurching into motion, gradually picking up speed and pulling away from the platform.

"Godspeed, Peyton Nelson," Claire whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

Nearly an hour later, the shrill whistle of Claire's train tore through the lingering silence, signaling the impending departure and severing the last tenuous threads tethering her to home. Her family clustered around her like a protective shroud, their faces etched with pride and worry.

"Here it is," her father said, his voice thick with unspoken emotions.

"Looks like it," Claire agreed, hoisting her suitcase with a grunt. Her hands trembled slightly, the weight of her decision settling on her shoulders along with the overstuffed leather.

"Train for Atlanta now boarding," the conductor called out, his voice a steady beacon amidst the clamor.

"Remember to keep your head down and help others do the same," her father said, "And look out for yourself."

"Can't make any promises," Claire quipped, "But I'll do what I can."

"Let's just hope the Army's ready for you," Mrs. O'Connor added, a twinkle in her eye that mirrored Claire's own spark of defiance. "They won't know what hit 'em!" Her embrace was tight, a desperate attempt to imprint the feeling of her daughter onto her very soul. 

"I'll write every single day until you're sick of me!" Claire promised, offering a watery smile. "And when I come back, maybe I'll have a dashing paratrooper to introduce to you. Wouldn't that be something?"

Mrs. O'Connor winked at her daughter, “A fiery girl like you rarely returns with just tales of heroism and bravery. You're bound to turn a few heads, I'm sure of it!"

Laughter bubbled up from Emma, cutting through the tension like a lifeline thrown across turbulent waters. "Oh, brother, that poor man!" her sister said, hugging her tightly.

Her dad chuckled, the lines around his eyes deepening. "Just make sure he knows how to handle a fearless woman." 

"And don't let those men step all over you," her mother added in a firm tone, "You know what I say, 'Men ain't shit,' except for your father, of course."

"You know me, I don't like toxic masculinity," Claire replied with a smirk.

As the conductor's voice reverberated through the station once more, signaling the imminent departure of Claire's train, she picked up her mountain of baggage and stepped onto the platform. Claire climbed the steps of the train but paused at the top to cast a final glance at her loved ones. "Bye! Wish me luck!" she called out.

With a deep breath that did little to steady her heart, she entered the train. Claire made her way down the narrow aisle, finding a seat by the window in the last car, where the world could unfurl before her like a map of possibilities. As the vehicle jerked forward, she pressed her palm against the glass, maintaining eye contact with her parents and Peyton's mother until the station was nothing but a speck in the distance.

She settled into the rhythm of the rails, the clack-clack of wheels turning over tracks like a metronome counting down to her new reality. The heat was oppressive air thickening in the cramped space, sticking her blouse to her back and making her glasses slide down her nose. 

As the landscape outside blurred into a collage of greens and browns, Claire pulled out "The Great Gatsby" from her bag. She immersed herself in the opulent tragedy of Gatsby's world, finding a strange comfort in the characters' doomed pursuits. "I always thought of myself as Gatsby and Noah as Daisy." she thought to herself, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of her lips. 

Hours melded together, marked only by the rhythmic sway of the train and the occasional jostle of fellow passengers. When the heat became too oppressive, she switched to Freud, his theories a stark contrast to Gatsby's opulence and glittering disillusionment. "Id, ego, and superego," she mused aloud, her voice lost in the clatter of the train. "Which one got me into this mess? Freud would have a field day with me."

As dusk began to paint the sky with strokes of burnt orange and dusky violet, Claire pulled out a sheet of paper and began a letter to her mom. Her pen hovered above the page before it skated across, detailing the mundane aspects of her journey—never hinting at the undercurrent of fear that gnawed at her insides. "Dear Mom," she wrote, "the scenery is beautiful, although it's hard to appreciate fully when you're being slowly roasted."

Her hand hesitated, hovering above the paper as memories of Noah surfaced unbidden. Claire reached into her handbag and retrieved a photograph. It showed her and Noah, side by side, innocent smiles frozen in time under the banner of their high school graduation. Their graduation gowns billowed like hopeful sails, caps thrown mid-air, smiles wide and oblivious to the future. "Oh, Noah," she whispered, tracing the outline of his face. "Always fixing things, but never saw what was broken." 

Her fingers traced the lines of his face, the awkward angle of his glasses—a mirror image of her own. She wondered where he was at this exact moment, if the sea was kind to him, or if the churn of the engine lulled him to sleep each night. "Be safe," she whispered into the fading light, her lips brushing against the cool surface of the picture. The train carried her onward, through the dusk and into a future as uncertain as the war itself.

The night stretched before her, each mile a note in a song of departure and anticipation. Claire leaned her head against the window, watching towns and fields blur by, while inside, her heart beat a staccato rhythm of longing and fear—an intricate dance of the times.

As the morning sun pierced through the curtains, bathing the train compartment in a soft golden glow, Claire stirred awake, her cheek imprinted with the pattern of the window's glass. She blinked groggily as she stood up and reached for her luggage to retrieve a fresh outfit from her suitcase. 

Stepping into the narrow hallway of the train car, Claire made her way towards the washroom at the end. The rocking motion of the train beneath her feet quickened her pace, her hand steadying on the metal railing that lined the corridor. 

She reached the washroom door and gave it a gentle push, stepping inside and locking it behind her. The tiny room was a welcome refuge from the constant movement of the train. Claire changed into her fresh clothes — a burnt orange and white striped blouse and matching orange skirt that billowed softly around her knees — and stuffed yesterday’s clothing into a laundry bag. 

As she adjusted the collar of her blouse, the train lurched unexpectedly, causing her to stumble mid-button. Catching herself on the sink, she cursed under her breath and quickly finished dressing. 

With her heart still hammering in her chest from the sudden movement, Claire took a moment to collect herself before unlocking the door and stepping back into the hallway. 

Upon reaching her seat, the conductor’s voice echoed through the car, announcing their arrival in Atlanta. Claire collected her books and the letter to her mother, tucking them into her bag next to Noah's photograph. With a hefty sigh, she hoisted her bags—one, two, three—onto her shoulders and hips, a cumbersome dance that drew snickers from a couple of soldiers nearby. Atlanta, the city humming with the war effort and Southern charm, sprawled out before her, daunting in its vastness.

The stifling heat of Georgia smothered Claire the moment she stepped off the train, a harsh welcome to the South. She maneuvered through the bustling station, dragging her excessive luggage behind her, the clicking of her heels lost in the shuffle of footsteps and the murmur of countless conversations. 

The bus was already rumbling when Claire approached it, and as she climbed aboard, she felt every eye bore into her. She was a curiosity— a woman unaccompanied by a man among rows of young soldiers whose lives were set on a wartime metronome.

"Camp Toccoa," she said firmly to the bus driver, who raised an eyebrow but handed her the ticket without comment.

"Hey, doll, you boarding with all that?" one of the soldiers called out, nodding towards her luggage pile.

"Unless you see it sprouting legs and walking itself on, yes," Claire retorted, her voice edged with the wit she wielded like armor.

Another soldier piped up, "What's your story? Headed to entertain the troops?"

"Medic training," she clipped, pushing her glasses up her nose with a stubborn tilt of her chin. "I'll be patching up your sorry asses on the battlefield. Consider yourselves lucky."

Murmurs rippled through the bus as she maneuvered to an empty seat at the back, her bags wedged between her and the aisle. The curious glances didn't cease, though they became more surreptitious. Claire could feel the weight of their stares, the silent question marks punctuating the air around her. 

"Never seen a dame wanting to be in the thick of it," a soldier across the aisle muttered to his neighbor. "She's got guts, I'll give her that."

"Or she's crazy," the other replied, not unkindly.

"Both," Claire interjected before she could stop herself, eliciting a few chuckles. It was an odd sensation, this camaraderie laced with isolation. She hunkered down in her seat, pulling out her unfinished letter to her mom, and tried to resume writing, but the words seemed frivolous now, floating aimlessly on the page. Instead, she tucked the letter away, leaning her forehead against the cool window glass, allowing her thoughts to drift.

"Hey, combat medic," the same soldier ventured again after a few moments, "You got a fella waiting for you back home?"

Claire answered, staring blankly at the seat in front of her, "Nope."

The soldier whistled low. "Well, that's a damn shame. A pretty gal like you, brave enough to sign up for this mess," he said, gesturing to the bus full of soldiers. "There must be plenty of fellas fighting over you back there."

Claire chuckled bitterly. "Fighting over me? More like running in the opposite direction," she replied, a self-deprecating smile tugging at her lips. 

The soldier's eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "Nah, I can't believe that. A dame like you? Trust me, there ain't a fella worth his salt who wouldn't be lining up for a chance with you."

Claire sighed, her eyes fixed on the soldier's earnest expression. "Well, I guess they must have missed the memo," she retorted with a forced chuckle.

"I'm Danny, by the way," the soldier said, extending his hand towards Claire.

"Claire," she replied, shaking his hand. 

Danny had thick, dark hair and eyebrows, deep brown eyes, and a slight stubble showing he had recently shaved. He was handsome, no doubt about it.

"You said you're gonna be a combat medic, right?" Danny asked, genuine curiosity in his eyes. "At Camp Toccoa, if I heard you correctly. Ain't that where the paratroopers train?"

Claire nodded, a glimmer of defiance in her eyes. "Yeah, that's right. We'll be jumping out of perfectly good planes."

Danny whistled, impressed. "Well, I'll be damned. I could never. I'd crash land, splattering my guts everywhere like a burst tomato."

Claire laughed, "Thanks for the visual. I'll think of that as I plummet to my death."

When the bus finally came to a halt, the driver's voice announced, "Camp Toccoa, final stop!"

Claire stood and wrestled with her suitcases once more. Danny offered to help, but she politely declined. With a determined stride, she walked down the narrow aisleway towards the steps. 

"Good luck, Miss Medic!" Danny called out.

"Yeah, you too, Dollface," she teased with a wink. With a final heave, she managed to walk down the steps of the bus into the sweltering heat. 

"Watcha thinkin', Danny?" his companion next to him asked.

Danny grinned, shaking his head, “Nothin’ much," he replied, his gaze set on Claire as she stood outside the entrance to the camp.

The camp sprawled before Claire, a collection of low-lying buildings nestled amidst the dense Georgia forest. Stepping onto the dirt road, she was greeted by the stark white letters on the wooden sign: 'Camp Toccoa.'

She stood there, alone now, the dust settling around her feet. Before her lay a path lined with uncertainty, with courage demanded and comfort stripped away. To enter meant embracing her choice fully, to become part of something far greater than herself. 

---

[slippery-domjot-balls]

Our Man Bashir S4 E10

Saw this episode for the first time this week. There were so many little touches that made the episode a perfect parody of the Bond aesthetic. It payed tribute to classic James Bond (Sean Connery and it even teased the silly nature of Roger Moore's Bond).

The opening sequence of a villain crashing through glass with a follow up KO by the champagne cork was a lovely campy tribute. It had a Our Man Flint with James Coburn vibe! Try those if you like Bond parodies.

The Bondesque portrayal of Bashir works well. It both fits the desire he has to be heroic, to be more alluring and charismatic, and to take confidence in life outside the holosuite. Julian already is those things though. He just needs help realizing that sometimes. He was heroic in Hippocratic Oath when he stood for the lost Jem'Hadar. In his medical domain he is charismatic and in charge. All of his interactions with Garak show his subtle and alluring personality. He is on his journey of gaining confidence and with each passing episode he gains more self-esteem.

We all were admiring Julian just like Garak is. Look at that sweet face. Garak recognizes Julian's chance at character growth as his spy persona. By taking him under his wing, Garak can help him develop as a man of mystery!

The clothing is also perfect. Fashion was nailed for a Bond film parody. The high class tuxedos and the casual sweaters! We only missed out on the incredibly short-short-short-swim-shorts that Sean Connery seemed to love.

Miles as the main evil henchman was an excellent choice. Silly falcon eyepatch was just a bonus. It was nice to see a little spy gadget used by Bashir as well. Gotta have those!

I will make of gif of it later, but Worf blew a genuine smoke ring at one point. The white tux also looked amazing. More Klingons should wear white! It would be great for battle too. Showcases all the blood of their enemies.

Another A+ costume designed by the fabulous Trek Costume designers. The flair, the jewelry, all just works with that stunning Bajoran. She also played the Russian accent really well (not that I am an accent expert). Underneath this holosuite persona though we still enjoy Nana Visitor's warm smile. Nothing can stop her from making all our hearts melt!

Dr. Honey Bare....of course there would be a silly name like that. I wish Dax's character was treated less as plot device, but as a parody of older Bond movies I see the placement and and ridiculousness of it. It did feel like the cast enjoyed making fun of it.

This gem....I cannot even begin to state my delight over this single high pitched chort....giggle...laugh? What even is it? I knew of this gif out of context but now having seen the episode I see that Sisko was the deranged villain set out to destroy the world so he could create his human 2.0 sex island.

Above all of this, we must give the spotlight to the REAL hero. Rom. He is an absolute genius!!!! I love that he is so intelligent. Sure, Lt. Mr. Little Boy Eddington was there too, Odo helped a bunch, and Quark wanted to show off his jacket, but Rom saved the day. Rom singlehandedly saved the entire main cast. On the fly he rigged up an engineering masterpiece in a Frankenstein's monster way. Under incredible pressure with try or die high stakes, he pioneered a solution. I sure hope that Rom can be the star of the show more often in the coming seasons. He is a brilliantly written Ferengi and a well acted character. A loving and supportive father, caring brother, talented engineer, and an all around good friend to everyone.

For me, this episode surprisingly became a "wow, I love Rom" episode. Of course, I enjoyed and can see how iconic and quintessentially Star Trek the entire Bond tribute plot was, but this episode is about Rom for me as much as it is about Bashir and anything else.

I am glad that I can share my first watch of DS9 with all you lovely people. Thank you for sharing all your insights and passion for DS9 and Star Trek as a franchise with me.

Here is to many more shared laughs and warm moments together!

[mirai1269]

Vincent woke up with sore limbs, aches around his body, and a throbbing headache. He swore he didn’t go out drinking last night, did he?

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!”

That was his voice, but he didn’t say anything, in fact, when he opened his mouth, only a squeaking noise came out! He stretched his limbs and saw that they weren’t hands. What he saw when he looked up made him freeze.

He saw himself, but that wasn’t him, it was as if looking at a mirror… a giant mirror. The reflection smiled as it closed the cage he was in after giving him water and Guinea pig food.

“Welcome to your new home, I’ll get a better cage later, but this was the cheapest at the moment.” The reflection, no, imposter said as he started leaving his room to go to school.

WHAT THE F😨CK IS HAPPENING?!?! He looked around to get a better clue on what nightmare he was living in right now. He had paws for hands, he couldn’t speak l, he was in a cage, and…..

He was turned into a f*cking Guinea pig while some imposter posed as him.

——— At School ———

“Vincent’s acting strange.” MC stated, looking confused as saw ‘Vincent’ interacting with the old ���friends’ he swore he said he was done with during lunch.

“Probably nothing.” Leon said, angered that MC was paying attention to that pretentious prick over him.

“I’m going to go talk to him.” MC said as he left before Leon could protest.

“Hey Vincent, I see you made up with your friends.”

“Oh hey… you… yes! we made up.” The imposter said with a hint of awkwardness.

He felt a bit of worry because this guy definitely knew him, but he didn’t know his name. When he looked at the diary, he saw the names of all of Vincent’s ‘friends’ but not of this guy. The ‘friends’ were easy to fool because they couldn’t give a crap about the person he was imposing, they just wanted the money. Was this the guy he called “Honey” in the diary?!

“Can I talk to you alone?” MC said, interrupting his thoughts.

“Umm. We’re kinda busy right now.” One of Vincent’s ‘friends’ said to MC in a snarky tone.

The rest of the friend group stared as if warning him. Surprisingly, ‘Vincent’ didn’t do anything about it, causing the MC to scurry back to his table with Leon.

“That’s weird.” The MC said, well, at least he’s leaving him alone, which is one less thing to worry about.

Leon looked at ‘Vincent’ with a suspicious glare. When lunch ended, ‘Vincent’ went to the bathroom to fix his looks.

—— In the Bathroom ——

“You’re not Vincent, are you.” An low voice said, as a tall, athletic man shut the door and leaned on it, preventing anybody else from entering. He had pink hair, this must have been Leon, his #1 enemy from the diary, and he was likely about to die.

“Leon, w-what are you talking about?!” The imposter said, trying to mask his worry, but Leon didn’t buy it.

“You know what I’m talking about, the real Vincent never acted like this.”

While backing up, he then felt the pocket knife that Vincent carried (for some concerning reason). He wasn’t just about to let this guy ruin his plans of living a luxurious life, I sacrificed way too much to get here he thought while reaching for the knife.

“Don’t worry, I won’t spoil your little secret to everybody, I actually have a proposal.”

‘Vincent’ stops reaching for the knife and listening with both relief and confusion.

“What is it, please, I’ll do anything!”

“You know that guy that talked to you earlier.”

“You mean the one with the short dark hair and-”

“Yes, him.”

“What about him?”

“Let’s just say, the guy you’re imposing as and I have a rivalry between winning his heart. He doesn’t know that you’re not… you, so I’ll just need you to stay away from him, and I’ll keep your secret safe with me. In fact, I’ll help convince everybody to buy your act. Simple!” Leon says, raising a hand for a shake.

The impostor, with great relief, shook his hand and accepted the deal. This was going to be easier than he though.

BANG BANG BANG “OPEN UP THE DOOR, I NEED TO GO!” a student said in desperation. Both Leon and ‘Vincent’ quickly opened the door to let the student in, and headed to their classrooms.

*munching on popcorn* Oooh! This is some plot!

Imagen if the real Vincent somehow manages to escape and make his way to MC's house. Seeing the poor animal, the raven haired boy can't help, but take the poor fella in.

Once Leon visits them, he looks at the newest member of the house with confusion. The pet bites him when he tries to pet it, but snuggles up to MC with ease. With Newt, it ignores him. Leon is buffled, but soon, he notices something. The way this guinea pig squeaks at MC... it sounds terrifyingly like it tries to say 'honey'.

[crowley-the-1-true-king-of-hell]

So my absolute favourite Crowley episodes are in order from earliest to latest are ...

Wait before I get there the problem is all of them except the episodes were Crowley gets bullied or worse are my favourites. That's a lot of episodes because the bullying of Crowley, rather than just general rivalry and enemy stuff didn't happen until season 10. So I decided to change it to only the favourites where I can actually explain why beyond "I just love it just because uh yeah it's amazing"

Abandon All Hope

Okay so this is the episode where we see a demon trolling a homophobe and as one of those woke millenials it felt like Crowley was the kind of person that would have a blog on Tumblr and give entertaining rants about the unfair state of LGBTQphobias and racism in the world

The Devil You Know

Okay so this is central to understanding pre human blood Crowley's character. You cannot write accurate and informed metas of prehuman Crowley without having knowledge of this episode in your subconscious influencing you

It is basically a character study. It tells you that he is brilliant as he persuaded someone who didn't fear Crowley or the Winchesters torture or death into telling them where Pestilence is. He got Bobby who is clearly intelligent into giving up his soul

He is dramatic and funny. "They ate my tailor!"

He is quick to anger and doesn't have much patience. "Shut up the both of you!"

He is willing for his allies to get hurt to achieve his their goals. "That's what you get working with a demon."

He is flirty. "Lovers in league against Satan."

He shows more emotional range than most demons we've seen. "So come with me. Please." However his ability to feel the full range of emotions from anger to fear even before the human blood is unfortunately a big weakness of his, because he doesn't think of all the ways things can go wrong when he is feeling strong emotions as he acts impulsively, and therefore doesn't think of contigency plans for them. When he's calm he's brilliant

See most people think Crowley is smug and arrogant and he can be those things. But often he isn't and it's just a cover up for his worry

He is badass. He fought and won against an entire hive of demons single handedly before he became the ruler of fallen humanity

It is also his character centric episode

He also shrugs off being shot with a salt bullet

Two Minutes to Midnight

Telling the boys that Bobby used tongue is a well known, hilarious and iconic moment. To be fair to Bobby he might have thought he needed to use tongue for the deal to work

This is the episode where Cas' first line to him wasn't something something abomination but a surprised "how did you get that?" the first active impression that Cas has of Crowley is curiosity on his ability to gain things that should be difficult to get. That meant Cas never underestimated Crowley even in later seasons when the boys stopped being scared of him because Cas' first impression is that Crowley is very able to achieve what should be very difficult or near impossible

Weekend at Bobby's

Crowstiel is my favourite ship but the chemistry rivalry between Crowley and Bobby Singer is undeniable. It was also kind of hot. "You come to daddy." Them both mocking each other's accents was hilarious

The Man Who Would Be King

His support for Cas and the fact that he made Hell unique from the other Hells we've seen. This is also the episode where we see just how much respect that Crowley has for Cas. He genuinely believes that Cas is able to lead an army and win the war. He respects Cas in every way and even when Cas was in his honey era stage he believed in Cas to help beat Dick. How do we know he wasn't just saying that? 1. Why would Crowley team up with someone incapable? 2. We see evidence both before and after that episode of Cas' intelligence and badassery 3. Iirc and maybe I'm wrong Crowley has never called Cas a moron. Something he has no qualms using on even people he thinks of as friends post human blood like Dean for example

Season Seven, Time for a Wedding!

This is Crowley at his most fearsome and respected. Dean fears him "oh, crap". His demons fear him "oh, crap" and his unexpected speech about wall street and integrity from a demon was ironically funny

There Will Be Blood

This is the episode where Crowley is one of the most crucial characters of the season. They need HIS blood [ along with Cas and the alpha vamps ] to save the world

Crowley and Cas deserve to be important

Survival of the Fittest

He wins that episode. He gets Kevin. Cas and Dean get trapped in Purgatory and if Dean was a random side character rather than necessary to the plot there wouldn't have been a way out for him

He also doesn't get bitchy when Cas said not in so many words "no thank you" to helping with Dick Roman

The Great Escapist

Crowley sees Cas and his eyes light up. That is good acting to make even your irisises gleam. The look was very affectionate. It wasn't a smug yes I have Cas now! Angel tablet let's go! It was a soft adoring look

It was also nice for Crowley to have a win. It also shows just how good his logical thinking is and how he can draw the right conclusions from the information available to him. Plus his devil bullet idea was a creative solution to not having to get within an angel's smiting range

Clip Show

He called the Winchesters out for their collateral damage and they needed to be called out tbh. That was so satisfying. This episode is also a reminder to us that he isn't just funny dramatic Crowley as he is also "the ruler of fallen humanity" and Crowley shows that dark side of himself

Devil May Care

He had been tortured with a sledgehammer and he behaved like his nails had been painted. Badass. What a king 💅

Road Trip

There is evidence suggesting Crowley wasn't trying his best to hack Gadreel in order to force Dean into a deal where he gets to possess Sam and therefore go free

The evidence is that he doesn't do as much twisting with Gadreel as he does with Alfie. The evidence is that the pins Crowley is using to hack Gadreel vs Alphie are on opposite temples

Absolutely magnificent bastard

King of the Damned

Watching Crowley be soft hearted for Gavin was so rewarding from Weekend at Bobby's

The Foundry

The episode you point people to when they ask why do you ship Crowstiel as a friendship or a romanceship?

They play off each other well humour wise. And rather than rolling his eyes or looking disappointed in Cas for the Beyonce name like Dean would Crowley decides to join in on the joke

Crowley finds Cas fun whereas Dean can find Cas annoying

LOTUS

"I agree with agent Zappa." This is where Cas engages with Crowley like they really are partners and was the beginning potential of a friendship

I also believe Cas would prefer being Crowley's FBI partner and I know what you're thinking "but Cas loves Dean" and look I love my partner and I would choose him over my online gaming friends but some of my online gaming friends are more enjoyable to game with than my partner is. It doesn't mean I love them more but in this particular circumstance i.e gaming I would rather game with them than my partner f

For example my partner doesn't really do activities with me in the game he just goes off and does his own thing

Dean rolls his eyes and insults Cas where as Crowley joins in like it's perfectly normal to refer to yourself as Agent Beyonce. He never goes out of his way to make Cas feel embarassed and I just feel like if it wasn't for Dean Cas would really enjoy being FBI partners with Crowley after Lucifer gets defeated as well

[yanderes-galore]

If you’ve seen season 15 of Halo RvB, would you mind doing a yandere!Temple with a freelancer darling? I imagine he’d freeze their armor but keep force feeding them to stop them from ever leaving, and if it’s when Wash and Carolina show up, they beg them for help only for Temple to freeze them both and get pissed at the darling for trying to run.

I'm half way through Season 15 part 2 but come ON, how could I NOT write him? His theme is amazing and when he revealed himself? Yes! He is such a good antagionist, of course I'm going to write for him!

If he's OOC, my bad. Feel free to let me know as I have not completed Season 15 fully yet. I got really excited :)

Yandere! Mark Temple with Freelancer! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Kidnapping, Murder, Starvation, Forced kissing/affection, Manipulation, Forced relationship, Sadism, Love/hate relationship, Slight force feeding/mouth-to-mouth feeding mentioned.

You make Temple feel so conflicted.

Don't get him wrong, he hates Freelancers and everything that has to do with them.

You... he has no idea what to do when he sees you.

Agent (State Name), a Freelancer who was never all that competitive and preferred to gather intel rather than fight.

You were not up to the Director's standards compared to agents like Carolina, Tex, or Washington....

It was funny to him how innocent you acted.

It's such a shame you had to be a Freelancer....

Temple at first wanted to kill you.

After what Freelancers did to him, did to his friend, he wanted them gone.

When he lured you in with a manipulative tongue and pathetic ruse of innocence... he had one goal in mind.

Make you suffer like the others.

Have you rot in your armor and kept as a trophy.

Then you had the nerve to be so nice.

To be so sympathetic to him.

He's unstable, deranged, a soldier meant for revenge.

When he feels you pat his back and act all friendly...

It both burned and felt pleasant.

You're a Freelancer, his sworn enemy, and he can't bring himself to pull through anymore.

He prolongs your visit in an attempt to learn more.

Your skills, your armor enhancements... he lies to learn more of you, his supposed enemy.

You see Temple as the little guy.

You want to look out for him.

You have no idea what he's capable of.

Despite what Freelancers do to Simtroopers in his mind, he slightly admires how much you care.

You're different from the rest in his eyes.

But your fate is oh so similar.

He lures you in to his chamber of trophies.

You're impressed by the armor at first... before realizing they're your friends.

"Let's be honest, they were never your friends. They were killers like you. But I think they were worse than you. At least you ACT like you care."

Temple quickly drops his facade and makes his intentions clear.

The smell of rot fills your nose, making you bend over in an attempted gag.

"Pose for me, will you? I want you to look the best out of all of them."

You expect when he freezes your armor he'll leave you to die.

To let you endure the smells and pain of starvation.

Temple's merciful with you, however.

He's strangely affectionate.

Except he talks down to you, treating you less than you are.

"Poor baby... unable to fend for yourself now, huh? Can't even eat without me...."

Temple grows this twisted relationship towards you.

You're a Freelancer and he hates that...

But he also begins to love you.

Temple always prepares food for you (usually fish) and removes your helmet, feeding you.

He never takes it off long, giving you a quick kiss or holding your face for a moment before putting it back on.

He loves the pose you're forced in... like a living statue.

You outshine them all in this room, a star amongst your peers.

He stays in the room sometimes just to talk and rant to you.

If it wasn't clear, Temple is so unhinged he'd stay in a room full of corpses to watch you.

"Why so sad? The gang's all here! Aren't you happy? It's okay... I'm here. I'll make it all better for you, honey."

This is before Washington and Carolina.

When Temple freezes them, he keeps you far away from them.

"You don't get to talk with them. Only me. They aren't your saviors...!"

He insults the two other Freelancers in front of you.

He takes all his rage out on them before coming to you and being all affectionate.

It's scary... he gets so angry-

Then he calmly walks to you, holding your helmet and murmuring delusional praises.

"You're not like them... you're different now that I have you."

He probably would not take you out of the room due to the armor lock technology.

The smell of corpses no longer bothers you.

You'll also get used to Temple's ramblings and voice.

If only you could flinch away from his touch.

His kisses feel so... desperate.

As if he's trying to change his own mind for how he feels about you... or yours.

Temple doesn't tell the Blues and Reds about you.

Far as they know you're dead.

It's weird that Temple goes into that room so often though.

Temple's love for a Freelancer! Darling would be a love/hate relationship.

He doesn't want to acknowledge he feels different about you... yet-

He can't stop obsessing over you in that room.

He even tried to mouth feed you at one point.

Overall, Temple keeps you alive like a living statue.

The idea of you needing him to survive excites him...

Keeping you is the sweetest revenge.

"Love you, baby... love the pose, too~ Did you do it just for me?"

[runawaymun]

Ooo Celebrían for the character ask but can I add an extra challenge in which you can only use Elrond as the otp answer and none of the others? (Or even also who would you otp her with if it wasn’t him?) 🥰

1: sexuality headcanon

comfy straight & very very switch/vers

2: otp

Celrond <3 naturally

3: brotp

Prev stated on the Erestor ask but I really love her (headcannoned) relationship with Erestor, though I'm also super fond of my headcannoned relationship with my Gil-Galad as well! Especially in any OT3 verses with Elrond/Cel/Gil -- they're very much "hi this is my husband and this is my best friend & husband's boyfriend"

4: notp

Celebrian/Gil is just...so....wrong to me. I can't explain why. Even in an OT3 situation I just don't vibe with them being sexually or romantically involved in ANY way.

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

She invents fabrics and uses spells (Music) in her weaving in the same way that healers might use Music to coax flesh to knit, warriors might use Music to combat their enemies, and Smiths might use music to create items of Power, and she successfully invented water-repellant bandages for Elrond's use in the healing halls (and has since evolved into experimenting with using this fabric weave for cloaks and coats)

6: favorite line from this character

Well she doesn't have any any direct lines from or about her in canon texts (if we're being honest the canon lines are much more about Elrond). So can I cheat and use one from my fics?

“Shame on all of you! [...] That is my son. And he is hurt. And you draw a weapon in my husband’s city and threaten another kinslaying?” She crossed over to Elrond and addressed both crowds with a voice normally reserved for her children, when they were in the middle of an argument. “Have you not had your fill of death? Go home. All of you."

7: one way in which I relate to this character

STRONGLY vibe with feeling sometimes that my talents aren't really meaningful or w/e because they're on the softer/creative side, and feeling kind of...idk what the word is...just, not-quite-enough because I'm sleepy and like my peace and quiet and am quite content to be on my own a lot of the time? That's how I headcannon Cel to be.

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

Bristles very easily when she's younger at perceived insults because to be honest she's a little insecure. Every time I'm just...honey...no....

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

cinnamon roll!

[mochatheangelkiller]

thoughts on The Man Who Would Be King

Oh good episode, great episode

I love this one, its got all the angst, betrayal and destiel one could want in an episode. And it all started with superman going darkside.

As stated in my previous thoughts on spn below the cut is all my thoughts on the episode as I watch it. Again warning, there is a lot.

Starting off with Cas praying to his Dad for help. Hoping he'll listen. Hoping he'll help. Not knowing that he just doesnt care. Poor angel.

Dean telling Cas that he's going to Omaha to help Sam with a djinn is just so interesting to me. This is the angel who helped you stop the apocalypse, who threw everything away because you told him to. Because you told him that this was right. And now you're lying to him so you can see what he's doing? If he's betrayed you? You're the one betraying him, not the other way around.

Crowley arguing that Cas shouldnt be hanging out with Dean like a jealous lover.

Oh Cas. Honey, Chuck didn't bring you back because he wants you back. Hell I'm not even sure why he brought you back.

"I said no." Crowleys smirk lowers a bit and I honestly think he's a little bit afraid of the angel here.

Crowley is possibly the only smart character on this show. Sam and Dean, with a TON of help from Cas and Bobby, killed Azazel, Lilith, Alistair, trapped both Micheal AND Lucifer at the same time. All of that happening in the span of a year and yet, the angels, demons, vamps, all the non-human beings here still aren't afraid of them because, what, because they're human? Theyre the two most powerful beings in your world, they took down every major game piece in less than a year and you’re still not concerned for your safety? Idiots. At least Crowley is smart enough to recognize that they pose a major threat.

These demons are so dumb. Who do you think has Rubys knife? Crowley? You just said hes dead so who does that leave? Oh right, the people who nabbed you.

Poor Dean, trying so hard to be loyal with every instinct telling him otherwise. He thinks that Cas is the superman gone darkside when the reality is he's the batman who left him to die. Sorry pal but if you wanted to be loyal you should've helped him when you realized he was dealing with a civil war. This is on you. So what hes working with Crowley? Its not like you're helping him at all and Cas can't take on an archangel on his own. If you think he can then you're even more deludional than I originally thought.

Something about seeing Cas eradicate Ellsworth with no more than a hand over his mouth? Thoughts and feelings and ideas.

"Its simple, freedom is a length of rope. God wants you to hang yourself with it."

Raphael!! Oh how I love them. Raphy saying "Hes devout. Trumps everything," is so funny to me.

Raphael quote of all time: "You know better than anyone, Castiel. Theyre soldiers. They weren't built for freedom, they were built to follow."

Cas got tossed like beanbag at a kids party. He's all bloody and broken nose now.

Okay so sue me, I'm a Castiel Apologist all the way. He did ask the Winchesters to help and they haven't even tried. Its appaling, you'd think you would help the man you call your best friend when he comes to you and says "I need help, heaven is in the middle of a civil war, Raphael is trying to jumpstart the apocalypse and I can't take him alone," that you would be there for him. That you wouldn't say " he's playing with the enemy, hes gone darkside" all because YOU WOULDN'T HELP HIM WHEN HE ASKED! This is on you, you forced him to go to outside sources for help when you didn’t give it to him. Don't blame Cas getting Crowleys help on him "going rogue" because if you had just helped him when he asked we probably couldve avoided this and every other shitty thing that happens.

I'll give it to Dean for not immediately thinking Cas is the bad guy. At least he's trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Crowley going behind Cas' back to get his demons to kill Sam, Dean and Bobby is cruel and so in character I kind of admire it.

Cas you're adorable. "I come with news, I firmly believe Crowley is alive," He says after smiting three of his demons. I love you buddy

And just as he gains their trust back, he goes and loses it all over again. Cas why do you do this to me.

The way they know. Just by looking at him. Even before he said anything about superman they knew. It was in the way they said "yeah, thanks Cas," that made it clear. They knew amd Cas saying that just solidified it.

Cas angy hehe

"Well I got news for you kitten, a whore is a whore is a whore." Crowley serving the BEST lines.

"I'm only gonna say this once. If you touch a hair on their heads I will tear it all down. Our arrangement, everything. I'm still and angel and I will bury you." Go off babe

If only Cas had asked Dean for help instead of going with Crowley it would've been okay but he didn't.

"I'm an angel you ass, I dont have a soul to sell."

This episode hurts my soul. Everything about it just hurts. Cas' attempts to keep the boys in the dark, Deans attempts to keep his loyalty to Cas, to not jump into any conclusions before its solid, all of it. I hate it but I can't get enough.

"Submit or die? What are you, French?" Damn, Crowleys got something against the French?

"Theres a lot of angels swooning over you. Gods favourite. Buddy boy, you've got what they call sex appeal." We're well aware of his sex appeal trust me bud. Hes got a lot. Like holy damn.

Castiel and Crowley is the best pair for this. Toxic and bloody and messy and angry and hot. My favourite team up of all.

The Devil You Know, what an episode

Cas takes 50k souls from hell and bitch slaps Raphael with them. Amazing. That shit takes balls cause you know if he missed he would've been dead meat.

OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS MAN. *Blasts Raphael to somewhere far far away* "Let it be known, you're either with Raphael or you're with me." And struts away like a gay bitch with somewhere to be.

'And so went the long road of good intentions." Cas, darling, you've always had good intenions and you still do. You want heaven in good hands and the apocalypse to not happen, thats good.

"Look me in the eye and tell me you're not working with Crowley." Yes because thats what we should focus on here. How about "why are you working with Crowley," that way you're getting the full fucking picture.

At least let him explain whats happening. I get you have trust issues, buddy I do too, but you need to let people explain why they did something before thinking it was against you. Especially when its someone who you put a lot of trust into. Let him explain damn it!

This scene make my heart hurt. "Where were you when I needed to hear it?" "I was there, where were you?" Just nail me into the coffin already omg.

This episode is so homoerotic. Between Cas and Crowley working together then Dean and Cas trying so hard to believe in eachother and failing.

"You gotta trust me man." No! Because trusting you will ultimately get us all killed. Trusting you will stop Cas from opening purgatory and killing Raphael. You can't politics this Dean. You can't just throw Raphael in the cage with their brothers and expect all to go well because it wont. It never does and the fact that you can't see that what Cas is doing here is in everyones best interest kills me.

The fact of the matter is Dean, you can't take Cas. Every single angel and demon, the big players, you took them all down with his help. Without an angel to help you stop Cas you're just asking to get hurt.

God fucking damnit. That hurt.

[gigantomachylesbian]

saw your storygraph post, and now i'm wondering, do you have any favorites amongst the LGBTQIA+ books you've read so far this year? would you recommend any of them? i'd love to hear your answer!

Yeah absolutely! I'll try to recommend a variety of things (without going overboard) but I must admit that I'm very biased towards epic fantasy and horror in my reading (also wlw stuff more than anything else, though I'm trying to broaden my horizons a bit!) Under the cut because I have so much to say about books literally all the time every day.

She Who Became the Sun by Shelley Parker-Chan.

This is my absolute favorite book I've read so far this year, and it probably makes my top 3 overall! This is a historical fantasy novel inspired by the rise of the real-life Hongwu Emperor in the 1300s in China. It follows Zhu, a girl who takes on her dead brother's identity to also claim his fate of greatness, becoming a skilled tactician and ruthless enemy along her rise to power. This book has some of the best scheming, back-stabbing, and vying for power I've ever read--I cannot possibly emphasize enough that a guy gets drawn and quartered and it was delightful to me <3. In addition to just being deeply compelling and well-written (Zhu is SUCH a good, complex character, she is absolutely ruthless and clever and perceptive), it has some really interesting representation! Because it's set in historical China, a lot of this stuff isn't stated explicitly in the way it would be in, like, a contemporary novel, but it's absolutely clear in both how the text is written and its themes. Zhu does have a romance with a woman which I really enjoyed, and at a certain point she acknowledges that, while she's not a man despite living as one to maintain her power, she's not really a woman, either. At the same time, our other POV character (and Zhu's narrative foil, which is done so well it makes me BANANAS), is Ouyang, a eunuch within the Mongolian army who, while not transgender, faces a unique, interesting, and incredibly degrading position of gender within this society due to his status as a eunuch, and it drives everything he does. He's literally my favorite character in the entire book I need to study him like a bug. ALSO he's gay. She Who Became the Sun really explores, through Zhu and Ouyang, this theme of "like recognizes like," where, despite being on opposing sides, Zhu is able to recognize in Ouyang this sort of precarious gender status she herself experiences, and understand him better for it. This book is complex, extremely well-written, and delivered everything I want from a historical fantasy, from rich settings, cut-throat politics, complex and morally gray characters and, of course, ghosts! The sequel (I believe the series is a duology?) comes out this summer and I AM going to flip out about it.

Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers.

Now, on a totally different note, I've got a contemporary romance! But not really of the rom-com variety necessarily. This novel follows Grace Porter, who recently completed her Astronomy PhD and celebrated by letting loose for once in her life--which results in her having a vegas wedding with a girl she just met. As silly as that premise is, much of the novel focuses on, yes, Grace's developing relationship with Yuki as the two connect, but also on the effects that Grace's perfectionism and burnout have on her mental health. The novel explores her feelings of uncertainty about her future, as well as how the scientific field she loves is 10 times harder for her to succeed in as a queer black woman, even when she's dedicated her whole life to it. It has some incredible discussions of both the beauty of science and of storytelling, a delightful and fleshed-out set of side characters (including a fantastic queer friend group that I adored), and absolutely beautiful, rich descriptions and prose. I absolutely adore Grace as a character and find her to be just so incredibly real and believable, and this was a book I could just sink right into with its beautiful descriptions.

Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White. Now we're onto a YA dystopian horror! This novel follows Benji, a trans teenager whose eco-fascist, Christian cult has destroyed most of the world, and turned him into a bioweapon to destroy the rest. He's on the run, and finds refuge in a group of survivors based out of a local LGBT+ teen center as they fight to survive when faced with the murderous cult members, horrible conglomerations of flesh and bone made to kill them, and a damaged, burning Earth. This novel has some absolutely fantastic body horror! It's very gnarly, and combines a lot of meat with Christian imagery in a way that was just delightful. The tension and horror elements definitely worked for me, and I really enjoyed Benji as a protagonist. Benji's experiences as a trans kid are pretty heavily focused on, especially combined with the community he finds in the other survivors and his relationships with them. Also, his love interest is canonically autistic! Overall, Hell Followed With Us has a great balance of nasty body horror, the challenges of fighting to survive, and the hope found in community.

Okay those are the only books I'm letting myself write extensive recommendations for because otherwise I'll be here all day, but here's some bonus recommendations: The Burning Kingdoms series by Tasha Suri (lesbian epic fantasy series, 2 books so far, Indian-inspired fantasy world with incredible world building, action, and complex women <3. Also in my top favorites from this year!), A Strange and Stubborn Endurance by Foz Meadows (mlm fantasy romance, explores cultural differences really well+a powerful trauma recovery narrative (with a touch of vengeance <3), first book in a series but the second isn't out yet, I LOVED this book and its characters and the romance so so so much, but do heed the trigger warnings as it starts out pretty dark), Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth (Horror that plays with metafiction, weaves together narratives of past tragedies at an all-girls boarding school with the making of a contemporary film about those events, lesbian+bi+polyamorous rep, grossnasty bug stuff+picnic at hanging rock vibes. An absolute blast!).

Okay those are all my recommendations for now (and limited to just what I've read this year) BUT if you're looking for a specific genre, type of representation, or even just something more lighthearted than most of what I've mentioned, please don't hesitate to ask! I definitely have way more things I could've recommended if I didn't want this post to be a million miles long. Also thank you for asking! :^D

[thehalfbloodedwitch]

→𝐶𝒉𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔~ draco and reader not talking before the ball, but when draco seeing reader dancing with another man he gets jelly and dances w her? (also she/her prns)

Let's show them what's mine (D.m. x reader)

Pairing- Draco x Femreader

A/n- Clo, I got the best idea for this one so I really hope you like this one!

"Do you think this is good?" Draco muttered to Blaise as he tried to adjust his tux, "Man, you look better than I do right now," Draco mumbled as he stared in the mirror and ran his fingers through his silky blond hair, "Shut up, you look a lot better than me anyways"

"Do you think Y/n would like this?" Draco asked, "She would, of course!  Now I have to go get Pansy, see you at the ball," Blaise stated as he exited the room.

Draco was alone, so he took one last look in the mirror before heading out to find his date for the night, Y/n.

"H-Hey, is Y/n around?" Draco asked hesitantly "No, she actually left for the ball," Y/n's friend replied to which Draco nodded and left for the ball to find Y/n, who was dressed in a beautiful gown.

He couldn't wait any longer and pushed the entrance Hall door wide without hesitation; he didn't even need another second to figure out where she was because she was always a fascinating girl who stood out from the crowd.

But something wasn't quite right; she was laughing with someone else. "Of fucking course, Potter has to ruin it every time," Draco murmured as he watched Y/n, his date, dance with Harry Potter, his sworn enemy.

Her laughter, smile, elegance, and grace, everything about her was stunning. But, for once, Draco couldn't take it all in, so he stood there watching the two dance.

As Harry's grip on her waist tightened, his grip on the whiskey glass tightened, and his other hand coiled into a fist, tightening till it left imprints on his palm. How could his date be dancing with someone else?

Just as the song ended, Draco stormed over to them, clearing his throat and saying, "If you don't mind Potter, but I'd want to dance with my date" as he extended his hand to Y/n, who smiled and replied, "Yes Harry, it was great dancing with you" as she accepted Draco's hand.

He led them to the dance floor, where they danced in unison as the music began to play. "Couldn't you just wait for me, hm?" "Oh Merlin, you were late, and he asked me for a dance, how could I say no?" Y/n replied as he clutched her waist harder than ever.

"It's not that hard, honey," he whispered as he turned her around, her back turned to Draco, and they both swayed to the music. "Remember that you are my date, not his," he said as he swung her over, their lips just touching and their faces only a few inches apart.

"jealous, are we?" Y/n smirked as she lingered a little longer in the position "Me, jealous?  You've got to be kidding me.." he looked her in the eyes, his stare slowly descending to her lips. She pulled away "We're dancing dear, concentrate on that," Y/n said and tightened her grasp on his shoulders, smirking, finally taking control of him.

"Ah, bold are we?" "You can say so," she said, but as the music faded, he drew her in for a kiss, saying, "Play time is over baby,"  She didn't pull away this time, their mouths entwined and tongues tangled, his taste of green apples and mint plastered all over her mouth. Draco grinned as they both backed away, "You have no idea how badly I wanted to do that in front of Potter," he said, and she giggled, her hand still resting on his shoulder.

[crazysheeplyca]

hii!!! could i have a minho and reader fic with the classic enemies to lovers trope?? shes co keepers of the runners and theyre always competing with each other, and everyone else ships them and always try to get them together? and maybe they have to share a bed at one point and they wake up cuddling and everyone teases them?? happy ending please!! Thanks💕

Hi of course, I love your idea and it was really fun to write !!! I hope you’ll like it, enjoy ❣️!

Slinthead

Minho x femal!Reader

/!\ English is not my first language 

Warning : None

Summary : Reader and Minho spend their time fighting and competing while everyone in glade ships them. But one day one of their friends decided that give them a bit of help, to make each other realise their true feelings.

A/N : I am so bad at summary, anyway I hope you guys will enjoy it. Let me know what you think.

-----------------------------------------------

“I bet she isn’t even awake at this time” Said Minho with a little grin, checking his watch while waiting in front of the gates of the labyrinth. 

He looked at the other runners and counted them in his head to make sure everyone was there and on time. 

“You know before saying anything that would make a fool of yourself you should think, or at least verify that what you are saying is right.” 

A honeyed voice raised behind the young man. Minho rolled his eyes and scoffed, then turned around and looked at the girl who spoke. She gave him a little wave with a playful smile, Minho looked at her up and down. 

“You’re late, shorty” Minho stated, crossing his arms.

“You are the one who’s late slinthead. You perfectly know that I am always the first one to arrive. Is it because you can’t beat me in a race that you look so frustrated ? It’s not a big deal you know, after all I am the keeper of the runner” Said the girl with the same honeyed voice.

“Yeah right, first of all you are the Co-keeper of the runners, secondly I am faster than you Y/n, don’t take your hope for reality” Minho scoffed in disbelief.

“If it helps you to sleep at night, i’ll pretend it’s true” Y/n winked at him and turned to face the gates that are opening soon. 

Minho scoffed again while going beside her, preparing for another day in the maze. Some whisper and giggle can be heard coming from the other runners mocking them as they look like a married couple. Since Y/n and Minho are the fastest runners Alby decided to make them co-keeper, a decision that they had hardly accepted. They argued with him for two hours straight, the poor Alby couldn't take it anymore and threatened to throw them off the cliff if they didn't stop. The two runners stopped arguing but still weren't enjoying this situation. Since that, their little competition grew into a great rivalry, but for the gladers it looks as if they are just flirting. 

A deafening noise followed by a violent gust of wind alerted the runners that it was time to get in the maze. With a last provocative wink Y/n start running, Minho grins saying he won’t let her outrun him, he runs and rapidly catches up with the girl, returning her provocative wink. They engaged in different hallways, running in between the giant gray walls, sometimes covered by ivy. While working they couldn't stop throwing puns, challenges or insults at each other. The keepers turned every little thing into an argument from the moment they stepped in the maze till they finished working. 

Today was no different, when the time came to go back to the glade, they bet they would be the first one to arrive. After counting to three they raced home, on the way Minho tried to block Y/n so she would stay behind and Y/n tried to push him aside, they pinched and nudged to get in front of the other. Running as fast as they could, their legs starting to ache, their breaths becoming short, they were finally seeing the glade. In the last hallway Minho and Y/n pushed themselves at their maximum. 

Entering in the glade Y/n pushes Minho to the side while he trips her, they both fall hard on the ground. Newt, who was waiting for them like every day, sighs deeply and closes his eyes, praying his friends would be more mature one day. He took the two teenagers to the med hut, even if this was for minor injuries. After Clint and Jeff heals the shanks they left, letting Newt all the time he needed to scold them. As the second in command asked the runners what happened, they started to argue saying it was the other fault. The more the time passes the less what they were saying made sense or was simply understable. 

“Enough ! I’m starting to have a headache” scolded Newt while he pinched the bridge of his nose. Why the shuck can’t the two of you get along ? You are the exact same idiots !”

“I’m not like him/her !” protested the teenagers looking disgusted at this idea.

“Finally something you two agree with” said the blond with a malicious smile “Why don’t you stop pretending you hate each other when everybody else sees that you’re just flirting ?” 

“I beg your pardon ? No shucking way ! Him ? Of all the boys that are here ? Impossible.” retort Y/n crossing her arms.

“Right even if she and I were the last people on earth I’d rather die alone than be with her !” claimed Minho.

“You’re just talking” Newt observed before turning his back to them “come on it’s almost dinner time”.

The three gladers ate their dinner with the other in a friendly ambience. Y/n and Minho didn’t argue or fight once, they just decided to ignore each other. At least that was what everyone thought. During the dinner they sent little provocative signs at each other that are left unnoticed by the gladers. When Y/n finished eating she got up and cleaned her plate, before she could get out Newt asked her to wait for him outside. The girl nodded and kept going. After a minute Minho arrived and waited beside her, she glanced at him, sighs and took a step away from him. Minho looked at her raising a brow, she could feel his gaze on her but ignore it. The boy decided that it was time for payback and a bit of fun, harboring a mischievous smile, he approached her. 

“Hey shorty, what’s the problem ? You can’t stand my incredible presence ? Or are you scared that I will discover that you're in love with me ?” Asked Minho.

“Leave me alone slinthead, between the two of us you are the one who's in love with me. I got away because you stink” Y/n replied with a smirk.

“Say it again, I dare you.” Challenges the boy, hovering over her. 

Y/n straightens, looking at him dead in the eyes with a bright smile repeating “You. Stink. Slinthead.”

Minho was about to speak when Newt clears his throat to make his presence noticed, they both looked at him and Y/n ran to the glader giving him a big hug. She took a false sad face and told Newt that Minho was mean with her, the boy in question rolled his eyes and called her a crybaby. The second in command holds Y/n to prevent her from attacking her co-keeper.

"Okay stop it you two, no fight or there will be consequences." Informed Newt

Minho grunted and Y/n mumbled, crossing their arms and turning their back at the other. Looking like two pouting children, Newt giggles giving them a tap on the back.

"Anyway, why did you ask me to wait for you ?" Asked the girl

"You asked her to wait too ?" asked Minho

Newt noded with a small smile, and gestured to them to follow him. As he walked away the keepers asked him where they were going or what he needed them for. But the blond remains silent. Arriving in front of a small shack, Newt pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door.

"I need your help to search for something in there, it'll be faster to find if we do it together." Decided the second in command to finally explain as he motioned for the two rivals to enter.

"Alright and what are we searching for ?" Demand Y/n as she entered the shack followed by Minho.

"Good question, I hope you'll find it on your own." 

Minho gave a wandering look at his friend, while Newt wink at him and closed the door, not forgetting to lock it. The co-keepers rushed to the door and tried desperately to open it, trying to push it, hit it, kick it. But nothing worked. 

"Newt let me get out of here or I swear I will make you regret this !" Screamed Y/n banging on the door

"Silly me, I dropped the key and I can't find it now ! How clumsy can I be ?" Newt took a false apologetic voice while playing with the supposedly lost key.

"I'll ask Gally if he got another one but I doubt it, and since it's starting to get dark I won't be able to find it before tomorrow morning. Guess you two will have to spend the night here, I am sooo sorry guys. Goodnight." And with these last words Newt walked away giggling to himself.

Y/n and Minho cursed him, they tried to open the door for another twenty minutes before giving up. Y/n took a deep breath and looked around the room but there was no other way out, and nothing could help break or open the door. Actually there wasn't much in this shack, just two beds, another one in construction and some other furniture not totally done. This shack is probably used as a storage for the builders. She took another deep breath and walked to the bed at the other side of the room and sat on it. Minho stood against the wall, hands in his pocket, thinking about how he will take his revenge on Newt, then he looked at the teenage girl. He thought about bothering her, if he has to spend the night with Y/n he could have at least a bit of fun. 

"Guess you're stuck with me shorty." Smiled Minho as he approach her 

"Yeah, I couldn't be more happy, I suggest you leave me alone. You stay on your side of the room, I'll stay on mine, everyone's happy and nobody gets killed." Y/n rolled her eyes at him, knowing what he wanted.

Minho grins, he is going to annoy her as much as he possibly can and the better part is that she can't escape. The young man sits on the opposite bed, but as he does so a crack can be heard and before he knows it Minho finishes on the floor, not really understanding what happened. The bed was probably not finished. Y/n burst out laughing, after a moment tears started to form in her eyes, her stomach aching as she couldn't stop laughing. Minho stood up, jaw clenched, and asked her to stop, which the young woman didn't. The runner stood in front of Y/n, he then placed his hand on each side of her frame, leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"If you don't stop laughing in three seconds, I'll make you shorty." 

Y/n slowly stopped and looked at him wondering what he could possibly do. But didn't push it, knowing nothing good would happen. She shrugged and told him that she doesn't fear him. The boy scoffed, and layed down on the bed, Y/n furrowed her brows and nudged him. The runner grunted but didn't move.

"It's my bed slinthead, go sleep somewhere else."

"Where am I supposed to sleep ? There's no other bed shorty."

Retorted Minho his eyes closed

"Then sleep on the floor, I don't care as long as it's away from me." Y/n pushed him off the bed and got under the covers almost ready to sleep. "If you wanted a bed you shouldn't have broken the other one, goodnight loser." She winked and blew him a kiss with an arrogant smile.

Minho got up, took a deep breath and repeat a few times to himself that murder was not the solution. Suddenly an idea popped in his head, one that would bother his co-keeper and get him a bed. The boy goes quietly behind Y/n and gets in the bed with her. The girl slightly jumped in surprise and looked at her co-keeper in disbelief. 

"What the shuck are you doing, go away !"

"I won't move a finger shorty, get used to it." Minho replied with a provocative wink.

Y/n tried to push him off the bed again but Minho grabbed her wrist and pinned them to the mattress, hovering over her and looking at her eyes he winked again saying it was a nice try. The girl bit her lips and tried to get rid of his hold unsuccessfully, which made the runner laugh. After a few minutes she gave up knowing that Minho is physically stronger than her. 

"You're finished ? You are gonna let me sleep on the bed or you're gonna make me hold you all night ?"

Y/n huff and mumbled with a light blush "fine but don't get too close to me". The boy let go of her wrist and lay down next to his rival, savoring his victory. About an hour passed and Y/n couldn't fall asleep, she kept moving and fidgeting, not finding a comfortable position. Minho, having had enough, snakes his arms around the girl and pulls her against his firm chest. She was about to protest but he hushed her. 

"You are moving too much, I can't sleep. Now stop moving and let me cuddle with you so my incredibly reassuring presence will calm you down and lull you to sleep, is that alright Y/n ?" Asked Minho with a sleepy voice

Against all odds she agreed and buried her face in the crook of his neck. Minho blushed at the sudden action and placed one hand on her back to hold her close while the other went in her hair. He started to absentmindedly play with Y/n's hair until they both fell asleep.

The next morning they wake up because of whispers and giggles. After adjusting to the light of the sun they notice Newt and some other glader looking at them cuddling. Y/n blushes and hides under the covers while Minho throws them his shoes to chase them away. Newt wink at the runner, laughs and closes the door without locking it this time. The young woman got out of bed and took her head in her hand in order to hide her blushing face. Minho gets up, straightens up a bit and approaches her.

"Come on Y/n, it's not because you hide your blush that I can't see it." Chuckled Minho

"You know it's quite nice to hear you calling me by my name, it's the second time you do it. Be careful, or I might start thinking that you love me Minho." She said, looking at him briefly while biting her lips.

The runner stood in front of the girl with an affectionate smile and murmured yet again in her ears "I can say it as much as you want Y/n. And by the way I love the sound of my name on your tongue." 

Minho took a step backwards to look at her face turning red again. He chuckled and gave Y/n a kiss on the cheek and said "I knew you loved me" before taking her hand to get out of the shack.

[sashi-ya]

my dear sashi. hello 🧎🏽‍♀️ i hope all is well with you and that you are having an amazing week 💞

i’m SO HAPPY that the royal event was chosen by the majority (i chose it also hehe)

i would love to request a prompt with sabo, please 🫠

sabo x f! reader, “the prince of the enemies kingdom” prompt, NSFW. Kinks: Praise/Degrade & Choking.

i am so excited to read the rest of the stories you create for this event 🥹🦋 thank you so so much.

-Minka

Hii honey!! of course!!! I hope you enjoy this fic! I kinda get excited with it, it's full of plot twists too! so pay attention to little details :3 thank u for requesting!!! 💖💖

👑 Oh, Royal Lust Event ~ Royals AU event.

𝖓𝖘𝖋𝖜 ~ 𝕾𝖆𝖇𝖔 𝖝 𝕱! 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 ~ 𝕽𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

tw: NSFW. Degrading and praising, hatefuck with an interesting twist. oral sex. vag. choking. hate/love. conspiracies. Based on OP universe. My princess are all badass, none of them are whiny little mannequins :P

wc: 3.3k

Want more? visit the masterlist

You were not a typical princess. You have never been one.

And your Kingdom was so proud of you, because the Princess fought for their land, because the Princess ride her white horse and lead the troops and she would wield the sword like the bravest men.

In the front line, the war had been set. The enemy was once part of your own kingdom and fighting against them felt specially out of place. But they had a new commander now, and after some years they had declared war to you as a rebellious faction.

The are called the RA, or Revolutionary Army. Dragon, once dear friend of your father, the King, leads them under the premise of a new free land. And the prince, a kid that had grown up next to you, now holds the title of Chief of the troops…

“Sabo, I wonder what you look like now that you are a grown-up adult?”

The sound of your horse’s hooves against the mud of the battlefield guides your troops. They follow you with great passion and a big sense of loyalty, hoisting the flag of your nation like threaten emblems of patriotic feelings.

“Knights, ready to honour the freedom of your Kingdom!” you shout, pointing  your sword up to the stormy clouds above your head. Even if it’s cold and gloomy, the raindrops over your cheeks feel refreshing. Meeting thousands of enemies with sharp blades pointing towards you always makes your adrenaline levels rise up.

You, known as the best strategist, were of course the main target. “Kill the princess, once you kill their best soldier you will be able to defeat the whole army, and the King himself!” But it hasn’t been easy. Their best men weren’t able to kill you, not even to scratch you.

Cutting every soldier in your way you open your own path towards the enemy’s squad formation; your main target is him. Their general, their Chief… Sabo.

You remember him with golden locks and a missing tooth, cute little noble who was always getting in problems. He always rejected his noble family, and instead he would spend his time with Dragon. You still ask yourself why him, your father’s best friend, an uncle to you would turn his back to your family.

The battle continues for hours and hours, and as the sun comes down the time to stop has come. Both armies have set an hour to seize the fire until next day to start again. Your army has the advantage but yet -as your kingdom nor you are known for being bloodthirsty- you respect the time off, nevertheless.

You return to your base camp, annoyed because you haven’t seen your special target. How comes he hasn’t appeared yet? Who is commanding his squad then?

You walk side to side on your tent, your hair soaking wet and your clothes too. But you don’t care. Strategy is what matters the most, or maybe was just the fact that you wanted to see his face again? In any case you don’t seem to hear your helpers who are calling you.

“Princess!”. “Huh?”

Captain Koby, your most loyal subordinate pulls you out of your inner state of annoyance. He is holding a silver tray with some food on it. If you were to keep fighting you should get some rest and some food… even if you clearly weren’t planning on sleeping that night.

“Princess, you have to eat. Please” he insists, depositing the tray over the little table with your maps and sword. “Right, thanks Captain” you mumble, still thinking where the hell that bastard might me.

You devour the potato soup and the piece of rye bread. You shouldn’t be eating like the soldiers, you are Royalty, but you don’t care at all. You are not a princess to wear fancy dresses and smile in events, you are a true ruler, and someday you will be a Queen, a Queen of a free land.

And that was exactly what you hated the most of this situation, the RA hoists a flag of true freedom fighters when you consider your King to be one of the fairest rulers of all those lands. People aren’t used as slaves, nor even are required to pay any tribute to nobility. Why Dragon, and specially Sabo, had to act that way?

You could hear outside the changing of the guard and you knew it was pretty late already. The gloomy weather had now turn into a persistent rain creating some difficulties for next day’s battles but nothing you aren’t used to.  

A candle is the only source of light in your tent, a candle that burns bright accompanying eyes that won’t close. Your body feels the extreme exhaustion, but you can’t stop thinking about where their commander must be… and then, a sudden idea comes to your mind.

“What if he wants me to get into their camp? Maybe… maybe they want to stop this!”

What a naïve way of thinking, my dear princess… But there you are, riding your horse in the middle of the night, ploughing throw the immense lands of your kingdom. Hair flowing with the wind, your eyelashes collecting rain drops, the cold makes your fingers feel as if they were about to fall off.

You have told your subordinates not to follow you. The orders were clear, if you were not to return in exactly three hours from your departure, break the truce and charge against the east military settlement.

Your heart beats faster than ever, “is this excitement?” you ask yourself, getting carefully closer to their side. You decided that appearing before the guards riding your horse might me a little too much, and it will definitely put yourself in danger.  

“Chestnut, wait here” you tell your loyal companion, caressing her muzzle. She responds neighing and you hide behind and oak tree. You can see a lot of movements on their camp, red flags waving with the wind and apparently nobody is sleeping.

You narrow your eyes to find the main tent, that’s where Sabo must be. “Are they up because they are waiting for me? Or are they up because they are planning on attack during the night?” you whisper.

“They are awakened because they don’t know where I am”

A subtle voice announces you from behind you aren’t alone, and a gloved hand is now over your mouth preventing you from speaking. Your hand quickly tries to reach your sword, but you can’t. That stranger turns you around and pins you against the muddy log of that huge oak tree.

The subtle light of the moon through dense steel clouds allows you to see his golden locks falling over his face. A frilled shirt, top hat with a pair of blue goggles. “Hi” he whispers, still pressing his palm over your lips. The smell of leather invades your nostrils, and soon you realize who he is.

Flashbacks of that little sweet child of curly hair and a missing tooth come to your mind. His eyes look just the same, but now, over his left side you see a reddish burnt scar. You try to free yourself from his grip, but you can’t. Somehow you have become weak against him. Perhaps it’s the fact of being surprised, or even recognizing him after so many years… or maybe, just maybe, seeing your teenager year’s crush right in front of you looking now like a handsome man.

The pain he caused you when he left made you stronger, and now he is right in front of you… as your enemy.

“Don’t shout, and don’t try anything. I recommend you not to try to catch their attention or else you will be in disadvantage” he whispers before taking his hand off your mouth, but never letting go your wrists that are now pinned between your back and the tree.

You nod and maintain your calm. He is right. If his men knew you are there you would fall prisoner or worst… you will end up dead.

“S-abo?” you ask, stuttering. “Yes, my princess” he whispers so sarcastically.

“You were waiting for me?” you inquire, recognizing you sound more like a little child waiting for Santa than a General. Sabo smirks, his eyes become sloppy, his lips are a little chapped from the cold.

“I was waiting for you, yes. And you know? I wasn’t wrong… after all these years I’m still able to read your mind… Did you think I wanted to wave the white flag?” he asks you, laughing at you. It feels humiliating, and in fact it is. You’ve been tricked, and you let your own feelings get in the middle of your duties.

You look to the side; the closeness of his sight makes you nervous and frankly your cold upper limbs hurt from the wet wood carving on them. Sabo chuckles, he enjoys being in control. You’ve always knew.  His index and thumb grab your chin to make you look at him again. “Princess, how come that you a woman of such intelligence and strength could have fallen in such stupid trap, hm?”

You sigh, a fire lighting up inside your stomach coming up to your face. You aren’t able to say anything, what would you say after all? He was right, you were now his war prisoner. The Revolutionary Army have won the war by simply playing with the feelings of a stupid woman.

Your eyes get watery, it’s not sadness, it’s the impotence you are feeling. “Are you going to cry? Really? I thought you were stronger… but, oh well, you have always been a whiny little princess” he mocks you, pressing you harder against the tree as he detects your increasing motions under him.

“Kill me once and for all, Sabo” you tell him, spitting at his face after. He lets go of your chin and cleans the side of his mouth from your disrespectful act looking at the ground. His gloved hand suddenly -and violently- ends around your neck. The back of your head hits the log and you gasp.

Sabo presses his forehead against yours, the pain in his eyes is as strong as yours. “You want me to kill you, huh?” he grunts, choking you harder. You can hear the sound of the leather friction against your skin, the lack of air makes you dizzy, and you don’t even manage to grab your sword.

Your body… your body wants his proximity; your body wants his touch… even if that touch was violent and harmful.

“I have planned this for so long, (Name)… You have no idea” he spits, with accelerated breathing and hidden meaning behind those words. His warm breath mixes with yours, the gap in your lips begs to be filled by his.

You blink and a tear fall from the corner of your eye, mixing with the rain drops making you both wet. “Are you gonna cry for me, aren’t you?” Sabo asks and without hesitation he kisses you. His tongue violates you, his grip presses harder around your carotids, his body pressed against yours. Chest going up and down, desperate unleash of sexual desire in just one kiss.

Painful lips remain after his impulsive bites and nibbles, his hand has loosened the pressure around your neck, so you are able to grab some oxygen from the humid atmosphere of that green, mouldy forest.

“You are my prisoner now, you know that?” he asks, with his lips grazing yours, panting like a beast. “I know I am…” you accept your faith, watching as he takes the sword from your hip and throws it to the ground.

“Then walk with me” he says, pushing you to the dark path of the forest. You stumble upon your feet, but you don’t fall, he got his strong hand grabbing both of your wrists against the small of your back.  

A little tent, well hidden behind a bunch of bushes waits for you two. He pushes you inside, letting go of your hands. You land on all fours, hands and knees to a carpet covered soil. Some candles burning over a little table and nothing more.

“What- What is this place?” you ask, sitting on the floor and facing him. “A neutral spot for us to discuss” he says, leaving his hat over the table. You can appreciate the beauty of his manly face, and yet, he still looks like that cute little boy and later young man that would create ruckus around your father’s castle.

The warming light of the candles show the new scar that garnishes his eye, and you wonder how he got it. You also remember the day you kissed for the first time. You were still young; you were kids playing to be in love. Your first kiss, exactly one day before the revolution started.

“Why are you doing this, Sabo?” you ask, unable to stop your own tears from falling. “Stop! Stop crying!! You are pathetic, you know that?” he shouts, taking his wet coat revealing a see-through white shirt. He has grown strong, his body is the body of a man, of a real man.

He realizes you are looking at his abs peeking through the transparency of his clothes, and he can’t stop himself, not anymore.

He almost rips his shirt off, exposing his milky skin, also covered in burns tracing a path from his left eye down his collarbones and into his ribs. “You like this? Don’t you? You have become such a slutty princess” he grunts, already unbuckling his belt.

“Wh-at?” you act surprised as if your body wasn’t asking for that. “You know how many times I’ve seen you wearing those fancy dresses acting as if nothing had happened, the fucking newspaper showing you like the perfect princess… half your kingdom left, you know that? Huh? And you acting like a disgusting royal” he spits, with a huge pain and hatred in his words. Sabo crunches in front of you, pants semi open, hardness trying to free itself.

Your hands on the floor at each side of your hips, eyes wide open. “You have no idea how much I cried for your treachery, Sabo!!!” you cry out loud. “I haven’t betrayed anybody!! Your father had!!” he screams back, grabbing your hair and pulling your head back.

His lips land on your mandible, biting, licking, kissing you down your neck. “Sabo… what are yo-?” you ask, but you aren’t able to keep talking as his hands began tearing your clothes. “A princess wearing pants? You have always been a fucking rebellious bitch!” he chimes, getting more and more excited as you let him come closer and undress you.

Breasts exposed, so ready for him. The cold making your nipples hard and your skin bristle. “How much you have grown… princess” he moans before attacking them. His lips around them, sucking hard, nibbling on them. You whine, burying your nails on his arms. “Sabo… what are you doing?” you ask, moving forward so he can worship your chest more easily.

“You are gonna get fucked by the enemy” he says, taking his gloves off with his teeth. “And I will use your body as much as I please, that beautiful perfect body”

You, submitted to the most lustful confusion can’t stop him from kissing you so violently, you feel humiliated by your own self. He is the enemy now, why are you allowing him to tell you, no, to use your body?...

Because you want it as much as he does. Since forever, you’ve wanted him, you’ve loved him. Deeply, a treacherous desire

He crawls between your legs, kissing first your spasming belly. “Let me see how wet you are for me, because I know you want me, my dear slutty princess” he mumbles, discovering indeed the pooled wetness in your sex. You tremble, not sure if it’s because of the cold or because of the exhilaration of having the man you love, for which you have given up your nation, about to devour your body like a thirsty beast.

Lips land on your anatomy, he gloats at such dripping mess. Sabo smirks, the peak of his victory right before his eyes, served like a winning banquet. Legs held open by his strong fingers carved on your thighs, his tongue collecting your arousal manifestations. Tracing circles on your most sensitive point. Taking you slowly to heaven, praising without words a woman’s intimacy.

Succumbing to his oral skills, you are on the burst of climax. Not even you, the strongest general of your army can hold back such intense sensations. “Sabo I-“ you try to tell him, because you don’t know exactly if you want him to stop overstimulating you or for him to keep going.

“Are you coming? Huh? Well, you won’t then. I’m gonna use your body and I won’t let you come whenever you want” he says and stops eating you out. You feel frustrated, as if a canon was about to explode but someone would suddenly wet the spark.

You try to touch yourself; you need to finish. Sabo pushes your hand off, you are not allowed to cum, and he wants to show you how much he despises you… but does he really?

“Stop, slut. So needy to cum? Look at you, trying to touch yourself!” he smirks and laughs, but you know he would prefer to be making love to you instead of treating you like this.

And you take your chance.

“Make love to me, Sabo. Make love to me, I love you. You can claim my head after, you can win. You have said my father has betrayed yours… and I believe you. Kill me, but first, love me. Make love to me”

Sabo sits back on the floor, he pants, and his hatred expression turns into the saddest you have ever seen… “I hate you all, I hate you all! You are freedom slaughters! You, your dad, my biological father, mother! You, you will have to marry my brother you know that?!” he screams, taking his pants off, revealing finally his whole nudity.

He crawls once again on top of you, his hard, dripping sex lingers over your pelvic bone. His hand caress your cheek, but the other has your wrists pinned against the ground. His lips graze yours, breathing desperately, his thorax goes up and down. You can even see his ribs moving as he pants.

Sabo’s dark grey eyes fix on yours, and you understand exactly why Sabo was doing all of that… you know, you understand now.

Why the sudden attack? Why the sudden declaration of war?

Because the princess will get marry soon, to his disgusting brother. Not to him.

Because he had chosen freedom instead of monarchy, but his heart never left your side. And he prefers to break the world before seeing you getting married to another man. You are his, and he knows he is yours. And Sabo doesn’t hate you, and Sabo only loves you, and Sabo only wants you for himself. He only hates that you took so much time to come back to him.

And he makes love to you so passionately, melting both of you in one. A salty tear falling on your cheek, while the thrusts of his needy body hammer into you. Your nails carved on his back; your lips crushed against his. Muzzled I love yous mixing with grunts and moans.

The inevitable climax of two lovers that were finally free to love each other, filling and getting filled. Explosive, skin to skin, hearts beating so fast against each other’s chest.

Sweaty and exhausted, you rest on his arms as he plays with your hair.

“Your family wants you to marry to my brother, because they have associated to the Celestial Dragons…” he says, as if you didn’t know that already and your orders were for your troops to attack the east camp… and not the west one, where you are now…

No matter how, the hearts will always find their way to freedom ~

[inkandpen22]

Dating Klaus HC List

A/N: while I’m working on the next part of OF/OF I figured I’d make this for y’all

You’re  equally as insane and equally a genius as Klaus 

You’re sweet but also have a side people fear 

When you go quiet that’s when people should be afraid 

You def would have resting bitch face in meetings 

When you’re relaxed around the family or friends you’re as sweet as honey 

Vampires much rather speak to you than go to Klaus because of this 

You’re not an Original but hold the same respect by association 

You’re one of the few people who isn’t afraid to talk back to Klaus 

He values your opinion and seeks your counsel on matters 

You were actually really innocent as a human, Klaus and the other Originals toughened you up -- taught you their ways 

You’re really good at reading people -- something Klaus loves about you 

He also loves to spoil you — you’d have the best wardrobe and the best cars… best everything! Money is no object

Don’t even mention the ROCK on your ring

It makes a lot of vampires jealous… Including Katherine when you first met her

Btw… YOU FUCKING HATE KATHERINE PIERCE 

No one dares to mention her name around you 

You were a part of the Originals long before she was a thought and once she screwed over Klaus she became enemy #1 

You also can’t stand Elena Gilbert -- she just annoys you and it doesn’t help that she looks like Katherine 

In fact, you almost killed Elena on sight when you met her because you thought it was Katherine 

Stefan doesn’t approve of you just like he doesn’t approve of the Originals but back in the 20s you all had loads of fun 

Damon thinks you’re humorous and admires your precision against your enemies but thinks you’re kind of nuts... you lowkey are... 

Damon would call you ‘Batshit Beauty’ 

You’re one of the few people who call Klaus ‘Nik’ 

You also him Baby, Sweetheart, Lovie (only in private bc he thinks it doesn’t sound tough) 

He calls you more formal things: Love, Darling, Dear, Angel 

You’re both terrifyingly protective of each other

You don’t like to think of yourself as a violent vampire but you’d rip someone into pieces if they ever hurt Klaus 

Whenever you get to that state of blank rage he has to calm you down otherwise you’d tear apart a whole town 

��Love, Love! Relax... okay? It’s over! Breathe with me. Come back to me.” 

He’s easily jealous so he kills for you nearly weekly

“He wasn’t even looking at me, Nik!” “You’re always giving people the benefit of the doubt. He was practically undressing you.” “Let him.” “Excuse me?!” “He can only imagine... you get the real thing...” 

Makeup or angry sex dominates your love life 

You two are about as stable as a teeter totter. One day you’re on cloud-nine the next all you’re doing is argue 

At the end of each day you always end up in the same bed 

One of your favorite things in the world is laying in bed with Klaus’s head on your chest as you comb through his hair -- you love how relaxed he becomes 

He says he’s only truly relaxed when he’s cuddling with you in bed Klaus isn’t a fluffy person but he loves to give you forehead kisses When he cries you cry and vise-versa (which isn’t often so when it does happen you both worry) 

Klaus loves to leave hickeys on your neck and all over your chest so people remember who you belong to though you both wear wedding rings 

You love wear red lipstick and leaving a kiss mark on his neck 

When he sleeps in late you love to wake him up with kisses all over his chest and taking him in your mouth -- he doesn’t mind it either 

He returns the favor --- obviously! Klaus is very generous 

Risky public sex --- bc that man doesn’t give two shits 

The siblings def get annoyed with you two constantly needing to hold hands or be around each other or straight up disappearing 

Klaus is def a dom since he always has to be in control 

Sometimes you take control like when you wake him up with a surprise -- but once he’s satisfied he immediately takes over 

The dom/sub dynamic is the foundation of your relationship 

You’re a brat sub fs and he wouldn’t want it any other way 

You’re strong, vocal and independent and Klaus encourages that but you also do 95% of what he says 

When you do disagree you lowkey look forward to the argument 

Almost everything becomes sexual between you two — especially when you physically start fighting which happens on occasion

You two are like ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’ of the originals

“Oh no, Mom and Dad are fighting again” - Sassy Kol

You’re the Yin to his Yang, the light to his darkness — you balance each other out

He’s the only one who can convince you to turn off your humanity and turn it back on

You would die for each other but you also live for each other

Masterlist

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