#the tenderness with which they spoke of their first meeting paralleled with the violence of that scene is amazing writing

[in-kyblogs]

“The coven master has the power of life and death over all his flock.”

Interview with the Vampire, S2 E2 // S2 E3

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Witness : 33

Undone

Character(s): dark!Bucky, dark!Steve, too

Masterlist

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. Some violence as well at the beginning. It goes without (and with) that this is 18+. 

Summary: The reader is forced into action.

Notes: It’s been a long road and it so bittersweet to post this. I don’t want to say goodbye but all good things must come to an end. I really hope you guys enjoy the ending. Please see the notes at the end of the chapter as for now, I just want you guys to read and process without any worry.

Also, a short epilogue will be posted later today. Please, reblog, reply, inbox as usual. I think we’ve all shared this journey and I’d hate to end it alone. I love you guys and can’t wait for you to read. :) <3

You were running out of patience. You knew you had to wait for your window but it was seemingly nailed shut. It took more than a week for you to go through the reel of pics on your burner. You would sneak to the washroom at work or rise when you knew Bucky was asleep and pore over the images. It was a desperate search at first, your hands shook as you frantically hoped for something; anything. And then you got to the pages written in Russian. Google translate was a godsend but deciphering the words was still tedious. You repeated them, over and over, until you were a perfect mimic. You had one shot and you couldn't miss.

Even so, you were still trapped. Your keeper was ever vigilant and even more rapacious than usual. He clung to you even when he wasn't using your body. He was touchy and you were still unused to it. You longed for those days of rough detachment. You didn't want to lose your nerve. He was making it harder as he grew tender towards. You sometimes caught yourself slipping further into his grip. Forgetting that he was your oppressor and not your lover.

You were at your desk, chin in hand as you blindly scrolled through e-mails, ignoring the small font as your vision blurred. When would be the right time? Really, how were you ever to match a super soldier? You were hopeless. This had all been for nothing. A last glimmer of pathetic resistance in a dark pool. You sighed and tapped on the butt of the mouse, think!

The sound of the elevator doors brought you back to earth and you jolted up in your chair, glancing at the clock. Almost the end of the day. You were barely surprised when Bucky appeared, he had taken to checking in on you more often; in person and on the phone. You weren’t sure why he had the compulsion as you lived with him and rarely had time away from him. You still hadn’t told Allie about that, insisting on her place for your last hangout. A rendezvous which Bucky had so graciously approved.

Not far behind was Steve, he winked at you over his friend’s shoulder and you chewed your lip. You couldn’t help but think of what you had done with him in Bucky’s absence. Regret was an understatement but it needed to be done. Realization dawned on you as you looked at the pair of super soldiers. You could guess they had been conspiring for another tryst that night. Well, one of them at least. There was a seeming tension between them but you couldn’t imagine why.

“Hey,” Bucky leaned on your desk, Steve watching from the other side. Other than his usual flirtatious smirks, he was overtly irked about something. You swiveled in your chair as you looked between them. “I figured I could catch a ride home with you. Steve and I have been running around doing Tony’s errands all day.”

“I told you, I could’ve just taken you back to yours,” Steve grumbled. 

“And I told you not tonight,” Bucky lashed and you were shocked by his tone. He had only spoken to Steve like that when had nearly choked the life from you. You could gather that this was an ongoing argument, the same which had permeated the air around you. “Which is why I’m wondering why you’re still here.”

Steve chuckled. You didn’t like the sound of that. “Ah, you know I always have to make sure you get your work done, Buck,” He crossed his arms, biceps bulging.

Bucky pushed himself away from your desk and you watched him approach his oldest friend with malice; shoulders set, jaw squared, vibranium fist clenched. You were shocked by the scene, seemingly forgotten for the brewing animosity. You hadn’t seen them together in quite some time and so you felt like you had missed something. When had this all happened?

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky snarled.

“You tell me. When’s the last time you fucked her?” Steve dropped his arms, gesturing to you. Your head perked up and you stared between the two soldier. No...

“That’s not your business. She’s mine. I take care of her.” Bucky pushed his shoulders back and the pair approached each other like dogs rearing to fight over a bone. “You worry about her when I say you do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Steve laughed and shook his head, glancing at you as he licked his bottom lip. “Is that why I had to take care of her when you were away, hmm? She said you wouldn’t touch her.”

Your mouth fell open and you braced the desk, readying to stand. Bucky looked over at you, furious. Your expression confirmed Steve’s admission. His eyes flashed back at Steve and he spoke in a low voice. “What?”

“Just a couple times,” Steve boasted, “Should’ve gone a few more. She couldn’t get enough.”

Now you were on your feet, slipping out of your heels as the air thickened. They stared at each other and you tiptoed around your desk, hoping Bucky’s anger blurred his awareness of you. As you reached the other side, he turned and you fell into a run. Your nylon-covered feet slipping on the polished floor as you made for the door next to the elevator. Before you could push through into the stairwell, you were pulled back, Bucky’s metal arm around your stomach. You beat on it but only hurt your fists in the struggle.

“I fucking told you,” He hauled you back into the empty lobby. “Steve was right. You fucking slut!”

You flailed as you tried to latch onto anything. “Please,” You reached out to Steve who sighed, amused by the scene. He made no move towards you and watched with blatant delight. “You can’t blame her, Buck, the girl has needs.” Steve taunted. 

Bucky tossed you away and you crashed painfully into your desk. He turned on Steve and charged towards him, the two of them meeting like bulls in a pit. They crashed into the wall and began to stumble around. “I fucking warned you. You don’t fucking touch her.” You could hear Bucky’s growl and you rubbed your midriff, searching out your purse as you leaned over your broad desk.

You quickly retrieved it and charged back towards the door. Your feet slid down the stars, the door slamming in your stead as you tried not to fall on your way down. You heard the door again as you started down the second flight and Bucky's voice barrelled around you, “Get back here!” 

You couldn’t stop. You raced on and on until you were dizzy, knocked forward by a sudden force. The air was forced from your lungs as you struggled to keep on your feet and slammed into the wall. You were turned around, vibranium fingers around your neck. 

“Looks like you’ve outlived your usefulness.” He spat and you picked at his hand desperately. “Come on.��� He spun you, his hand on the back of your neck as he led you down the next flight. “Say a fucking word and I’ll snap your neck right here.”

You had tears in your eyes as you were forced onward, holding back a sob as you reached the parking garage. Everything was flooding in; the last few months of horror bleeding from you. “Keys,” He snapped and you frantically dug in your purse and handed them over. He shoved you into the car and took the driver seat. The silence was deathly as he drove; taking the the streets back to his. You were at least reassured that he wasn’t headed for a landfill.

When you arrived, he snatched you out of the car by your arm, never letting you go as he dragged you inside. Your shoeless feet were scraped and sore, the soles of your tights shredded. He marched you into his apartment and locked the elevator behind him, whipping your keys onto the floor. “Get down on your knees right now and beg me not to end it here.”

You were shaking. There was no other choice but to listen. You doubted you would be spared but you were too afraid to do anything but follow the path to its end. Your ears were ringing and you felt entirely numb. Everything around you appeared in double; as if a shadow cast by some parallel universe.  You dropped your purse and fell to your knees and hung your head, wishing you had called your mom one last time.

“I told you.” He hissed, walking circles around you, “Don’t mess with Steve.” He stopped before you, crouched and waited for you to look him in the eye. “Don’t you understand. He’d fucking kill you and throw you away like a rag doll.”

Your lip trembled as you shook your head slightly, your mind spinning. “And what are you going to do?” You challenged with a sniff, your last sliver of defiance rising to the surface, “Hmm?”

“I was protecting you,” He shook his head, “Don’t you understand? If Steve had seen that video, you’d be dead. If I hadn’t trained you first: dead. Without me, you’d be long gone.”

You dropped your head again, your bottom lip drooping as the tears streamed down your cheeks. “I’ll deal with Steve in due time. But you…” His words died off and he walked away as you wracked your brain. Remember, remember! He walked back in, a gun in hand and pointed it at you. You were quaking, ready to melt into a puddle. You stared up at him, the barrel looming in your vision. Your heart beat in a flurry and a sudden burst of clarity cleared your head. It was now or never.

“Longing,” You whispered, “Rusted,” You set your chin, “Seventeen,” Bucky tilted his head as you sneered at the gun barrel, “Daybreak,” Your voice grew louder with each word, “Furnace,” The gun trembled, “Nine,” You slowly began to rise, “Benign,” Bucky’s eyes widened, “Homecoming,” You reached out and grabbed the end of the gun, “One and Freightcar.”

The gun came loose and Bucky staggered before his entire body locked up and he stood alert before you. His blue eyes bounced back and forth and his lips moved without his permission. “Ready to comply.” He uttered in a monotone. You lowered the gun and backed away carefully. You blinked and dared to lean in closer; he was still in there but his body wasn’t his. Just like you.

You turned and set the gun on the table. “Sit.” You pointed to the air chair. He walked mechanically over and sat like a machine. You came up before him and stared down at him, wiping away your tears. “Look at me.” His eyes snapped up and you could see the realization. You were sure it was the same look he had seen in you that first night in your apartment. You inhaled and tried to steady yourself.

You closed your eyes and your hands bunched into fists. You opened your eyes and let out a holler, punching him as hard as you could across the jaw. “Fuck you!” You hit him again but he was barely effected, “Fuck you!” You struck him four or five times before you were out of breath. “I hate you!” You sunk down onto your knees and sobbed into your hands. “I hate you,” You repeated and looked up at him, “You knew what it was like; to be a shell of person. To have someone else pulling your strings and you just didn’t care.” You rasped, “You did it anyway.”

You rose weakly and stood over him, bending to look him straight in the eyes. “It’s over. I hope they find you like this. I hope this takes everything you have.” You spat, “I hope they use you again.” You pushed his chest so that he sagged in the chair, your gaze settling on his shining arm. Your lips curled as an idea rose in your head. “Disengage your arm.” He wanted to resist, you could see that much, but he wasn’t in control anymore.

He reached over and removed his arm, the vibranium falling across his lap. You approached him carefully and grabbed it, lifting it with effort. It was heavy. You held it up before him and smiled. “Fair trade for my soul,” You hissed, “James Buchanan Barnes, you will never see me again.”

You lobbed the arm over your shoulder and turned away from him. You glanced at the gun but thought better of using it. He had taken everything but not that. You, unlike him, were still human. You couldn’t cross that line. You went into the bedroom and pulled out the duffel you had hidden beneath the bed. You changed into the hoodie and jeans, slipping into the sneakers as you zipped up the metal arm in the bag.

You unlocked the elevator and hit the button. As you waited for it to rise, you found your purse and keys on the floor. After a moment’s consideration, you took the gun from the table. You never knew. You looked at Bucky still sat robotically in the chair. You could see his blue eyes watching you; afraid. 

“Actually,” You said as the doors slid open, “I hope they never find you.”

With that you turned and stepped out of your prison.

---

Further notes:  I know we’ve all been hoping for different things but I always knew what the ending was gonna be and I hope it can kinda bring the series as a whole into a new perspective. As more than dark! smut. In the end, this wasn’t just a series about Bucky and Steve being dark!, it was as much about our reader and her perseverance and I hope that shines through here. 

I look forward to hearing from you guys!

*

tags: @they-call-me-le @holylulusworld  @petit-funsize @ladyofmyst @kellyn1604 @thelostallycat @grayxswan @collette04 @butteryoptimisticpeanut @buckycaptspideypool @blackpantherimagines @lilithhellfire @captainfreecandyvan @spaghettirogers @phoenix21love @sathlens @iheartsebastianstan @bethanyzed @breezy1415 @alexakeyloveloki @beautiful-and-strange @momc95 @luvmeijii @biasedtittes @thosecikinnn @justballoonfishthings @thepettyavenger @tuyetnhivo@bbyspiiice

[thecloserkin]

fic rec: Dante’s Stars by Pretani

fandom: A Series of Unfortunate Events

pairing: Violet Baudelaire/Klaus Baudelaire

word count: 94k, complete

Is it canon: Yes

Is it explicit: Yes

Is it endgame: Yes

Is it shippable: I’m fucking crying it’s so beautiful

Bottom line: The one and only Violet/Klaus epic, read it and bawl your eyes out (def read the warnings first tho)

It’s a canon-divergence AU where the Baudelaires stage their own deaths to escape Count Olaf. In canon the three Baudelaire orphans—inventor Violet, bookworm Klaus, and baby Sunny—are hounded from guardian to guardian by cartoonish villain Olaf, who will stop at nothing to get his hands on their fortune. Olaf murders or incapacitates every single adult who spares two seconds of sympathy for these kids, leaving a wide swathe of destruction in his wake. In this fic the Baudelaires have decided to wipe the slate clean and assume new identities.

I have mentioned in the past how salty I am about the Baudelaires’ characters being sidelined for Snicket the narrator, Olaf the villain, and/or sundry other bit-players (in the Netflix show the Henchperson of Indeterminate Gender p much steals every scene they’re in). In canon we’re not really privy to the kids’ inner lives. This fic avoids that pitfall by sticking with tightly focused third-person Violet and Klaus POVs.

The thing this fic does really well is instill a pervasive sense of dread/paranoia which is remarkable because for the first 25% absolutely nothing ominous happens. The orphans get taken in by a slightly addled, very nice old lady and they just … live in her house. For free. While she cooks for them. And every morning Violet and Klaus hook up in her barn.

Ok back up so the ship they’re passengers on goes down in a storm, all hands lost, the Baudelaires are presumed drowned with the rest. Which is positively providential. The first event of any import to occur is that Klaus swipes some cash from a dead man’s wallet. Violet has ethical qualms but Klaus quashes them by pointing out that Sunny’s starving:

”I’d do anything for her,” he said. “Even become a thief or a murderer.”

Then his dark eyes found Violet’s. “I’d do it for you, too.”

So on the one hand I think this is rather extra. I mean, what possible use could a dead man have had for that money? Money that could put actual food in Sunny’s stomach. The Baudelaires are keenly aware that justice does not equal unquestioning obedience to authority and I think their exposure to a raft of tyrannical and unjust authority figures has hammered that home. They’re down with bending the rules because they know the rules are never even-handedly applied anyway (ie. the show trial at Hotel Denouement, the farcical final exam at Prufrock Academy). On the other hand I remember how uneasy they felt about stealing Hal’s keys in Hostile Hospital, and that was barely a misdemeanor! A friend of mine astutely pointed out how Violet is always trying to behave in any given situation the way their parents would have wished, whereas Klaus takes a pragmatic approach: do whatever keeps his sisters safe. And that is a very interesting contrast and one I want to see explored further.

They get on a train. Things that happen: Klaus notices when Violet is down in the dumps or angry or upset or in this case, wistfully jealous of other people who lead “normal” lives, bustling all around them. He’s not in love with her yet but noticing is the first step. Violet atm is super focused on being the elder sister, the adult in the room, the One In Charge. They get off the train and as soon as they blow into town Violet gets catcalled and propositioned. One of the themes of this fic is the horrendous baseline level of violence against women, some of it normalized and casual like the catcalling. The Big Bad Villain of the piece is literally a guy who’s murdered multiple girlfriends on account of them fridging his ass, since he appears to think that women owe him sex. And this man’s driving ambition is to add Violet to his list of conquests.

So often, men treated her as little more than an object … Klaus was different. He saw her, the woman she was inside.

HOW COULD SHE NOT FALL FOR HIM?? Is there another man she could learn to trust enough to fall in love with? However I’m getting ahead of the story. Klaus is still in the phase where he’s awakening to his attraction to Violet:

She was mother and sister, soft skin and tender strength, and he hid his face in her neck. Like a child, she rocked him gently, cradling his head.

I have to protect her, even if it’s from myself.

He couldn’t take this, his brave, beautiful sister, so near … the knowledge of what those men wanted to do to her. I”ll kill them … And what he wanted …

God but it kills me, Klaus thinking that his attraction to Violet is as noxious as those vile men and their rapacious stares. Klaus himself otoh is president of the Violet Baudelaire Fan Club. The contrast could not be more marked. Look at him building her up when she’s about ready to to give up on picking a lock because she’s lost her hair ribbon:

”I’m done, Klaus. I don’t have anything else to give”. ”Vi … “ he was pleading, willing her to believe in herself again, because he did. “You’re a brilliant inventor,” he told her. “It’s who you are. Nothing can take that away. You don’t need your ribbon.”

The unwarranted parallel that he draws between himself and a bunch of sexual predators is the source of so much angst and pining:

Is that what I am? A pervert?

She’ll blame herself for this

Well, well, well, if it isn’t ye olde I’m-Leaving-Her-For-Her-Own-Good-Lest-My-Perverted-Attraction-To-Her-Despoil-Her-Innocence. I am absolute trash for it every time, film at 11.

”I love you, Vi … I’m in love with you.” He said it like he was confessing to a crime, and she wanted to scream, to laugh and cry all at once.

THEIR LOVE IS A CRIME!!! Could these babies be more pure??

They’d always had an extraordinary connection. It was the reason for their seamless partnership, their ability to support one another … But now, the bond that had kept them alive was killing him. How could anything ever be right again?

”Vi, I’m sorry … I want to be your brother, but I can’t … I want to be more than that … I don’t know what to do.” ”Kiss me,” she said, “and be both.”

THATS IT THATS A WRAP I CAN NOW DIE HAPPY. That “kiss me and be both” is PERFECTION.

And she knew she’d never willingly give herself to anyone but him.

she’d loved him even then. Who could tell when they had crossed the line? It was already too late.

cross the line what line??? they were made for each other.

”You know, we missed the sunrise,” he said, nose to nose with his sister.

Violet and Klaus carve an extra hour out of their morning to go make out in the barn. I shit you not these kids spend a whole month without progressing past first base because Klaus doesn’t want to “pressure” Violet into anything she’s not ready for. Violet, for her part, is beginning to suspect there’s something wrong with her person; why hasn’t he even tried to take her top off? Thank you #Patriarchy for teaching us that desirability is the measure of a woman’s worth. God they are so thirsty. This bitch almost fell over the first time he touched her tits:

“Vi,” he spoke into her hair, voice breaking. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me to —“ But she only titled her head, to meet his mouth in a feverish kiss.

So Klaus and Sunny are having a snow fight and Violet tugs her glove off to tousle his hair and it’s THE SEXIEST THING I’VE EVER SEEN BYE. True story after I read this fic I legitimately thought that “Vi” was a pet name Klaus called her by in canon, and when I finally finished the books much much later and realized that it wasn’t—well, it should have been.

There is a fairy tale about a princess who disguises herself in the skin of a donkey to escape the attentions of her lecherous father the king. Violet and Sunny discuss it. Violet points out that rape is wrong because rape is rape, because it is coercive, not because it’s incest. I love it when fic highlights the fairytale parallels to the Baudelaires’ situation, and I feel like Donkeyskin was such a spot-on choice because it’s all about surviving sexual assault and learning to make oneself vulnerable again afterwards? Klaus is the prince who sees through her disguise and falls head over heels in love with her CHANGE MY MIND. On the subject of happily ever after:

”Is that what you think I want? A fairytale? A walk down the aisle in a white dress?" He felt a lump forming in his throat. "Most girls think about those things, don't they?" "I don't," she told him. "I prefer not to. And as for children…well…I love them. That's why I don't want any of my own … how selfish would I be, to bring another little life into this? Another hostage they could use against us. Imagine how awful it would be if…" She shook her head. "No children… not ever. I couldn't protect them." And she turned to him with a soft look. "It's no sacrifice, Klaus. Not for me. I've already been through a… a wedding, you know." He felt her shudder, and she averted her eyes. "I won't be sorry if I never see another wedding dress again."

My dudes, when you have children each and every one of them is a hostage to fortune because of course they are. Also, Violet’s traumatized by the whole idea of being a bride, after going through the wringer of her fake wedding to Olaf. Olaf put Sunny in a cage to compel her compliance, and that’s what the Big Bad in this fic does too. He says things like “You’re a sick little bitch, aren’t you? Spreading your legs for your own brother” which turns their beautiful relationship into this ugly depraved thing to be ashamed of. I mean, this guy was literally a voyeur who would watch them from his hidey-hole while they were being intimate?? My god I would feel so unclean. And the worst part is, he overheard them calling each other by their real names not their aliases, so now he knows who they are and since the Baudelaires are still on the lamb this is bad. It gets pretty dark pretty fast.

“He won't want you anymore! No one's gonna want you when we're done!"

So he kidnaps and rapes Violet. Klaus and Sunny rescue her, dispatch the villain (Klaus’s earlier “I’d do anything” for his sisters, including becoming “a thief or a murderer,” acquires sudden resonance), and that’s when fucking Count Olaf shows up!!!! These kids just cannot catch a break. Turns out the Big Bad was actually working for Count Olaf all along. Olaf’s plan is still the same plan from The Bad Beginning where he plotted to steal the Baudelaire fortune by marrying Violet. Since Count Olaf has never in his life paid a henchman a salary, he was keeping the Big Bad sweet by promising to let him ravish Violet first. Let the full enormity of that sink in. Oh wait a minute Olaf isalso bent on knocking Violet up asap so the union can’t be dissolved on non-consummation grounds, or somesuch:

"You look at me as if I were a usurper, boy, about to steal something of yours. Tell me…" He gestured at Violet. "Is she yours?"

Why would you do this to me??????? This is so, so painful. Olaf uses an electric cattle prod on Klaus and makes Violet watch??? It’s ok though the Baudelaires prevail in the end, and emerge from the bloodstained ordeal as the family they are. My kink will forever be Violet and Klaus praising each other’s bravery and resourcefulness. They! Are! So! Proud! and! Supportive! Of! Each! Other! This line from earlier in the fic gets me every time:

I’ve failed them. This was his greatest fear, worse than death or any torment fate could devise. In his head, he imagined the struggle, saw his girls beaten and shot, felt each blow and bullet as if his own body were the target instead.

Klaus Baudelaire laying down his own body between the world and his sisters is really the only thing I care about:

And then her gaze fell to the marred canvas of his body.

I bet his back is a mess of burn marks ugh. Four weeks after Violet’s discharged from the hospital (practical Violet made sure to get the green light from the medical professionals) they finally have sex again, which is a relief—after the rape they were both hesitant to initiate sex because she thought she was damaged goods and he thought she wanted space? Silly kids. Oh and and here they are being mistaken by strangers for a pair of lovebirds:

One of the women sighed dreamily. "Did you ever see a more likely pair of turtledoves?" "Of course not," Mr. Poe sputtered, dabbing his brow with a handkerchief. "The very idea!" And he excused himself hurriedly, to make some phone calls. "Don't be silly," said the other. "They're siblings. Haven't you heard? … They're the Baudelaire orphans." "Well, I daresay," the first one went on, "anyone would've taken them for sweethearts."

I CANNOT WITH THESE TWO

The Baudelaires finally, finally come into their fortune free and clear. They put on their parents’ wedding rings and move to Canada. A cat (!!!) leaves baby Beatrice II in a basket outside their front door, and that completes their family. Nobody deserves good things more than these kids, and this fic ends exactly where it ought, describing “a rural life of moral simplicity.”

I read this fic years ago and it was w i l d rereading it again, thanks for coming along for the ride. If anyone wants to scream/cry about this fic in particular, or Violet and Klaus in general, feel free to send me an ask or message me ANYTIME