Chromietriestowrite - Chromie - Tumblr Blog

I love the Hobi in this fic, he and y/n are so cute together 🥰

Thank you for making it a story where honesty is the solution, doesn't come after years of pining and doing nothing about it ☀️

You're a really skilled writer ! 💜

Crash Landing

Summary: Jung Hoseok. Notorious hot dude on campus. Excellent dancer. Bad boy. Tattoos. Your best friend’s older brother. There were a lot of reasons why he was a terrible idea. Scratch that, fucking awful life ruining idea. But hey, you’re here to win ‘dumbest idea of the century’ award apparently.

Pairing: Dancer!Hoseok x  Uni Student!reader (fem)

Genre: Slow Burn, best friend’s older brother AU, Uni AU, smut, romance

Warnings: mentions of divorce, mentions of Hobi having been cheated on, protected sex, oral sex (fem. receiving), Hoseok with tattoos 

Word Count: 13.4K

   Meeting Hoseok had been a freak event unlike anything else in your mostly uneventful life, and in that way, it was completely fitting. He had quite literally stumbled into your life. Well, crash landed is more like it. While seated on a bench spacing out into another dimension that was void of any sentient thought after finals he had face planted into the bush right next to you. You’re not sure how long you’d been sitting there on the bench, possibly long enough to grow moss, and really you didn’t think that anything could get you to move from your spot. You were on the fast track to becoming a Buddhist monk until Hoseok’s ill-timed passing out had finally gotten you to move. At a lightning speed that you didn’t think was possible after five finals back to back in one day fueled by sheer willpower and too much caffeine to be safe for human consumption you were next to him.

   You had been convinced at the lack of protest or noise at falling face first into a very thorny bush that the man had most certainly died. Fight or flight responses had miraculously kicked on and as adrenaline surged the first thing you thought to do instead of asking him if he was okay was to slap his face as hard as possible. He groaned but otherwise didn’t stir until you started to pull out your phone with trembling hands to call 911. You recognized him as his hands suddenly came up to move the phone away with surprising strength. The man you were sure was dying in front of you was none other than Jung Hoseok. Your best friend’s older brother, who normally looked the spitting image of the sun and good health in all of the pictures you’d seen of him but now looked closer to a strung out druggy who took one hit too many. You’ve also noticed that he has a ton of tattoos that weren’t in any of the pictures you’ve seen of him. Intricate poke and needle types, all littered around his arms.

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I love your story so muuuuch ! I keep reading it again and again and it's amazing every time 🥰

You write so beautifully, it's incredible ❤️

Thank you for sharing that story ☀️

To Be Loved - 01

Here's where she meets prince charming.

⤑ pairing: namjoon x reader ⤑ genre: hybrid au, romance, hurt/comfort ⤑ rating: 18+ ⤑ word count: 5.2k ⤑ warnings: DEPICTIONS OF READER IN A TOXIC RELATIONSHIP (i.e, manipulation, domestic/verbal abuse, threats, degradation, violence toward reader), bullying toward reader, the "gaston" character is a straight-up asshole lmao, hyrbids are treated as second-class humans, description of bodily harm, sexual harassments, minor violence, based off 2013 namjoon in this chapter lol. please be mindful of the warnings!!⤑ note: happy birthday, namjoon!! while i was taking a break from magic shop, i've been working on a couple other projects and i finally finished one. it's truly a coincidence that i completed this story today lol. this story is loosely based off beauty & the beast but with hybrids.

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 (End)

It was a dark and stormy night.

Flickering fluorescent lights. The heat of the jeering crowd. Grey concrete in the old warehouse. Speakers reverberating a deep bass that fills the room. Thunder is drowned out as two amateur rappers spit lines on the small stage, eliciting reactions from the audience before them.

One of the contestant’s attention drifts to the crowd until he makes eye contact with you. It seems like he was looking for you. The moment you raise your hand to offer a tiny, half-hearted wave, the corners of his lips tug to a haughty smirk. Then, with the microphone to his lips, he puffs out his chest, turns back to his opponent, and begins rapping.

You’re less than impressed when he finishes his turn and is declared the winner of the round.

To be fair, however, this isn’t your scene. It’s too loud. Too rowdy.

If it were up to you, you’d be at home. Safe and cozy in your warm bed, curled up to a good book or movie. Initially, you didn’t even want to come, complaining that the weather is awful, the venue is too small, the floors are sticky, and that there are too many people.

But he insisted that you come tonight. For him.

One of his friends has her arm linked with yours, anchoring you to her. Her eyes are bright with excitement as she screams in your ear, “Fighting! Kangdae!”

The one you’re all here to see stands on the stage, relishing in the audience’s attention. There’s a smug look on his face when he meets your gaze, as if checking to see if you’re just as impressed with his performance as the rest of the audience is.

Politely, you clap your hands, not quite sure what the etiquette for these types of things are.

The host continues to rile up the crowd, daring any of the other contestants to step forward and challenge Kangdae.

No one does.

Except for one.

Silence follows as a lanky, tall contestant comes onstage. One that no one has heard from yet. Sunglasses cover his eyes, but you can make out some of his predominant features: his full lips, the deep dimples in his shy smile, his tanned skin.

“Okay, kid,” the host says, intrigued. “Show us what you got.”

The kid is handed a mic. Kangdae looks him up and down and scoffs.

The difference between the two is telling. 

Kangdae lives for the attention, wildly gesturing and getting into his opponent’s face. He encourages the crowd to cheer him on like that. Their hoots and hollering pumps the adrenaline in his veins as he verbally attacks the guy ballsy enough to challenge him.

His opponent, to your surprise, stands quietly as he’s thrown insult after insult. Then, when it’s his turn, the room falls in awe. His flow makes him sound professional, even though he sounds quite young. You’re impressed with his wordplay, how he keeps up with the rhythm, how he delivers the lines.

He’s by far your favorite of all the ones you’ve heard tonight.

There’s a clear winner after the boy with sunglasses is done, though rather than shove his victory at his opponent’s face, he holds out his hand to Kangdae and offers a dimpled smile.

Rap Monster.

That’s what they call him.

And as Kangdae bitterly shakes his hand, stunned at the turn of events, you’re beginning to see why they call him that.

In your small, provincial town, Kangdae has it all. He’s a handsome young man, athletic and popular. His family is well-off; so much so that he can indulge in expensive clothing brands, own the newest models and gadgets, and party every weekend at some bougie club or resort. Guys look up to him. Girls are in love with him. He lives off the attention and praise from his big circle of friends.

And yet, for whatever shallow reason, he seems fixated on you.

Unlike Kangdae, you hate being in the spotlight. It makes you shy. It makes you feel nervous. You tend to keep to yourself because of that, reading books or watching animal videos on your phone. You feel like you hardly have any friends in the town.

Then, one day, seemingly out of nowhere, Kangdae declares he wants you to be his girl.

And suddenly, you’re on everybody’s radar.

Why would someone so brilliant and outgoing even be interested in a boring and quiet person like you? 

That’s a question even you often wonder.

Finding the answers to that, however, becomes unwarranted.

People start to talk to you. People you’ve never spoken to before suddenly act friendly toward you. People who’ve never spared you a glance suddenly want to know all your dirty secrets. People who don’t even know you begin to spread rumors.

“The whole town already knows you’re my girl,” Kangdae tells you one day, while you’re sitting on the steps of your house, eyes red from tears of a recent bullying incident. He doesn’t seem to care about that though. In fact, you’re certain he’s even laughed about it at your expense. “Why don’t we just make it official? You’re not dating anyone, are you?”

“Are you even attracted to me?” you ask him seriously.

He shrugs. “Yeah, you’re hot. I heard quiet girls can get quite freaky too.”

“No way,” you cut in, repulsed by his insinuation. You stand on your feet, turning to go inside. “I’ll never–”

Before you could open the door, you’re suddenly shoved against it. Kangdae towers over you, anger burning in his eyes. He’s never been rejected. He always gets his way. 

It’s something you learn the hard way.

“Then I’ll make sure your life continues to be a living hell,” he threatens before he releases you.

More than before, unwanted attention is thrown at you. As soon as you enter the classroom, people stare and sneer. You hear them whisper about you in the hallways. You’re confronted in small groups. Accusations that you think you’re too good to be dating someone like Kangdae. How there must be something wrong with you.

In the eyes of many, Kangdae is perfect. Objectively handsome. Popular among his peers. Comes from money. All the guys you know want to be him. All the girls you know want to be with him. What makes a nobody like you think that you can do better?

You hardly had any friends in the town, but not once have you ever felt this isolated. You’ve never felt this singled-out. It feels like the whole world is against you.

You can’t take it.

“Kangdae,” you call out to him, stopping as he’s about to head to the field. He’s dressed in his sports uniform, about to go into a match against another school. “One date.”

A Cheshire smile spreads across his face. “I knew you wouldn’t resist, babe.”

You try not to cringe when he plants a wet kiss on your cheek.

Maybe you’re naïve. But maybe that’s why Kangdae is after you.

You’re quiet, soft-spoken, and incredibly shy. You don’t have a lot of friends, and you haven’t had a serious relationship before him. You don’t know anything about what love really is. Yet, despite what an odd loner you are, you’re a beautiful girl. Innocent and loyal to a fault. An easy target for Kangdae to walk all over. 

With his hand around your waist, you feel like an accessory. Before you ever considered dating him, he already declared you as his girlfriend, telling even strangers that he passed by that you would one day be his.

“Right from the moment I saw you, I think I fell in love,” he admits on your first date, taking you to a nice, upscale restaurant. It’s different from anything you’ve experienced in your small town. The menu items are so expensive, it doesn't list pricing, and each course that is presented at your table is like a work of art.

What’s most interesting about this restaurant, however, isn’t just the food. But the staff.

Gorgeous women in white blouses and black skirts that show off their voluptuous curves and long legs. Poking at the back of the skirts are tails. And on their heads are pairs of animal ears. Some of them have stripes or spots on their skin, some have nails as sharp as claws, and some have unique eyes like cats and reptiles. 

Hybrids.

Neither human, nor animal. But something in-between.

In your town, coming across them is rare but not unheard of. They usually dwell in the cities, where sanctuaries housing them are. Some are adopted into families or are hired to do difficult and dirty work with an employer willing to work with them. But most aren’t as lucky, and are treated as sub-human. Worse than how some people care for their beloved cat or dog.

“What makes you say that?” you ask Kangdae as a bunny hybrid brings out the next course. She, like the other hybrids, is quite beautiful.

“Because you’re gorgeous,” he simply states as he sips on some liquor. Then, suddenly, he smacks the hybrid’s ass. “Hey, isn’t my girlfriend gorgeous?”

“Kangdae!” 

“Yes, sir,” the hybrid quickly answers before practically running away from the table. You feel awful, but Kangdae cackles as if it’s the most entertaining thing he’s seen all evening.

“Babe, don’t be mad. She’s just a hybrid.”

One date turns into another. He showers you with expensive gifts, and takes you out to luxurious places. Sometimes, it’s nice. You never imagined you’d be leaning against the railing of a yacht, feeling the salt air against your skin as the boat cruises through deep blue waters. Or fine dining at rooftop restaurants in the big cities with a breathtaking view of the skylines.

You find yourself watching underground rap contests, and witnessing the skill and poetry of a particular contestant that caught your attention once. A tall boy with a thick pair of sunglasses and a dimpled smile.

Other times, it can feel overwhelming. Like you’re undeserving all the things that he bombards you with, and you owe it to him for one more date. One more party he wants you to come with him too. One more ‘this is the last time’ before he asks you again.

He introduces you to his friends, showing you off to them despite how out of place you feel among them. He texts and calls you all the time, wanting to know where you are and who you’re with, and letting you know that he’s thinking about you in persistent, long messages. He posts about you on his social media, calling you his girl, as engagements of likes, views, and comments fill underneath it.

People tell you all the time that you’re lucky though.

Of all the girls he could’ve been with, he picked you. Someone handsome, rich, and popular fell in love at first sight with a boring, quiet, lonely girl like you.

And maybe that’s why you stay. Who else would love you if not him?

Next week, you find yourself in the same, abandoned warehouse. Another night, another show. Another chance for Kangdae to redeem himself.

One thing about him is that he hates to lose. His pride just wouldn’t allow it.

Yet, once again, he doesn’t stand a chance.

This time, Rap Monster seems to be the crowd favorite. Everyone cheers for him once he steps onstage, wearing the same dark sunglasses over his eyes. He seems a bit more confident as he raps, his flow and rhythm even better than last week.

You feel like a fan as you and your group stand close to the stage. Although you’re supposed to be there for Kangdae, you can’t help but cheer his opponent on. Your heart jumps when you see Rap Monster catch your eye and give you a dimpled smile, bowing like a prince when he ends his round.

A shift can be felt once it’s Kangdae’s turn with the mic. People in your group and some of the audience make some noise, but the majority of strangers in the crowd are merely nodding along or quietly listening. 

Until the first heckle comes. Followed by someone else yelling at him to get off the stage.

Mean laughter fills the room, and you almost feel bad for Kangdae.

Had it not been for what he does next.

Gasps and exclamations of shock are followed when he suddenly punches Rap Monster.

“Hey, no! You can’t do that shit!” the host yells as the security guards make haste to handle the situation. They pull Kangdae away, trying to de-escalate, but it’s too late. The crowd gets riled up, shouting and egging him on. Two men have to hold Kangdae down, but he’s strong. He nearly manages to break free and get to Rap Monster’s face a couple times. Rap Monster’s sunglasses are knocked off, and he’s holding his face with one hand, covering an eye.

Because when he opens the other one… it looks strange.

It doesn’t look human.

A couple people up front scream in terror as they point at him. “A monster!”

“He’s one of them!” another shouts in disgust. “He’s a hybrid!”

Suddenly, the room seems to quiet down as they all look at him, stunned, horrified, disgusted. You could see him trying to hide his face as the host snaps at him, “This event is for humans only!”

The sunglasses have fallen near you, and without thinking, you quickly grab them and climb onto the stage. You don’t know what’s gotten over you. You hate attention. You hate being in the spotlight. You’re often shy and insecure, and always stay in your lane.

But you have to help.

“Here,” you tell him gently, pushing the broken sunglasses toward his hand. Up this close, you feel so small standing next to him. “You should get out of here.” 

He nods his head and takes them from you, seeming grateful and a little scared. His eyes look reptilian like a serpent, but they’re pretty. You feel like you can’t forget them.

In the innermost area of the iris, near his slightly vertical pupil, is a hint of warm brown, but the rest is a mix of deep blue and purple. The color of indigo. 

“Get away from her, you beast,” Kangdae commands, but Rap Monster is already walking away from the stage. Away from you.

Somehow, the rain outside seems to pour harder as he leaves.

It’s been years since that night.

Kangdae seemed over it, wanting to chase his fifteen minutes of fame elsewhere. And while you were interested in one of the rappers, you aren’t keen enough to keep going back. It isn’t like that Rap Monster would be welcomed at the future showings anyway.

However, you start listening to hip-hop music more than other genres these days. Secretly hoping that, if you’re to meet him again, maybe the two of you could talk about some of the artists you like. Books that you’ve read, movies you’ve seen.

But you haven’t seen him since.

You end up working for Kangdae’s family. In such a small, provincial town, there isn’t much of an option. His family seems to own and have connections to everything.

To the point where even your family tells you how lucky you are. Kangdae is a catch. Marrying him would guarantee a well-off life with someone objectively handsome, who thinks you’re the most beautiful woman in town, who you’d be out of your mind to leave or break things off with.

Although your father and your siblings mean well, you could only nod in defeat. You can’t bear to tell them how miserable you are with Kangdae.

The same man who tells you you’re the one for him, but flirts with other women in front of you. Who gets angry over little things and takes it out on you, screaming at your face, throwing things that nearly hit you, punching holes in walls and doors, or leaving you confused and worried for days without a word until he finally decides to come back. He’d shower you with expensive gifts and affection to make up for it, but his sweeter side never stays long before the cycle repeats.

And you can’t seem to find your way out of it.

The constant pressure to be with Kangdae has you wishing you could just disappear from the town.  To run away from it all and never go back.

But you’re a coward, and you don’t know where else to go. Everyone in town likes Kangdae, and even your family wouldn’t believe what a monster he really is.

In the apartment you share with him, it’s dark and empty. Empty bottles of soju and beer are on the coffee table, dirty dishes are in the sink for you to clean, there’s still a gaping hole in the pantry from an argument a couple weeks ago that hasn’t been fixed. But Kangdae’s shoes aren’t by the door, and you don’t imagine he’d be back anytime soon.

With a quiet, defeated sigh, you take off your shoes and your coat, place your purse down, and begin cleaning up the mess. You go through the motions of it, exhausted from work, from having more to do once you get home, and as you gather the bottles, you see that he’s placed some on top of a book.

A fairy tale story about a far-off place, daring sword fights, and a prince in disguise.

It’s your favorite. The local librarian gave it to you as a gift, and Kangdae is using it as a coaster. And one of the half-empty bottles has spilled over, soaking through the pages.

Angry, you drop the bag on the ground, letting the bottles clatter against each other, and pick up the book, trying to salvage the ruined cover. But rings of liquid stain the front, and the pages are wrinkled from the liquid, blurring the texts so they’re unreadable.

Even before, the book is already a bit worn-out when it was gifted to you, but it still makes you want to cry. Kangdae doesn’t seem to care about you at all anymore.

How much longer are you going to put up with this? Shouldn’t you deserve your own happiness? Shouldn’t you deserve to be loved? 

You have to leave him. You don’t know when. You don’t know how. But you have to. 

That much you know.

Your plans are foiled by a single question.

“Will you marry me?”

Horror strikes your face. Down on one knee before you is Kangdae with a beautiful diamond ring. You could feel every person in the room staring at you, waiting for an answer. All his friends, your family, and even random strangers at the venue are gathered unexpectedly and witnessing his proposal. Wide smiles and excited looks surround you, as if they already know you’ll say yes.

Do you want to say yes?

Are you going to tell him no? In front of all these people?

“Kangdae, I—” you start to say, your voice trembling. You could feel the pressure weighed upon you, setting you close to a panic.

Your boyfriend doesn’t notice how uncomfortable you are. He’s busy flashing a bright, charming smile at the anticipating crowd for his big moment. His smile starts to falter when you take too long to respond.

Behind the smile, you could almost sense it. The heat of his anger.

You have to say something. You have to decide.

You have to tell him no.

“I…” you begin again. Your gaze catches Kangdae’s family, and how they nod their head, encouraging you to continue. Your voice is very soft and almost defeated when you say, “Okay.”

“Yes? You’re saying yes?” Kangdae exclaims loudly as the people around cheer and clap. You even see some girls start to burst into tears. Girls you know Kangdae frequently talk to. Your family seems relieved, worried that you’d reject him, that you’d shame and humiliate them with your refusal.

But it’s when you look at Kangdae’s family where your blood runs cold. They whisper to each other and nod, gauging the reaction of those witnessing the proposal. It feels like they’re in a business merger, and it occurs to you that maybe, to them, it is one.

You feel numb as Kangdae pulls you into a kiss and a tight embrace.

You’re engaged now.

And it makes you want to throw up.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Kangdae whines, trying to pull you closer to him. “Why are you upset? We’re engaged now!”

“Is it because you want to marry me? Or because your family made you?”

He scoffs. “What are you saying?”

It’s been years since the two of you have been together. Years of you being compliant, years of you arguing behind closed doors, of you silently suffering and hoping that things will get better. That, perhaps, one day you could convince yourself that he’ll change his ways. That he'll love you.

Perhaps in front of your family and friends, the two of you act like a happy couple.

You’re the girlfriend he brags about. Arm candy that he can show off because you’re the prettiest girl in town. Someone that his parents approve of, and often question when he’ll pop the question to you. A question, you suspect, puts his inheritance on the line if he hadn’t proposed so soon.

“Kangdae, do you even love me?”

Kangdae laughs. It’s a dark, biting chuckle that makes your skin crawl. “For a pretty girl, you sure say a lot of stupid shit. What kind of fucking question is that?”

Your mouth snaps shut. Until he snaps at you to answer him. “Kangdae, I…”

“Didn’t I propose to you? What more do you want, huh?”

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you realize how lucky you are to be with a guy like me? I spent so much money on you! I buy you nice things. I take you to beautiful places. I’ve helped you get a job at my parents’ company. I’ve bought you a home. And this is how you repay me?”

“Kangdae, please, just hear me out,” you plead, but the guilt and fear are already eating at you. It’s true that he’s provided you with so much. Are you being foolish? Ungrateful?

“Don’t forget, stupid bitch,” he threatens, his voice low as he grabs your face, squeezing your cheeks with his grip. “You will be my wife. You’re nothing without me. I will make your life a living hell. If you think this is the worst, then you’ve seen nothing yet.”

He storms out. 

And as the door slams shut, you slowly sink to the floor, trembling as his words of a very bleak future run through your head. Crying in misery and frustration that you, once again, couldn’t stand up for yourself. That you still feel too scared to just leave him and all you know behind. That his anger and selfishness will continue to wear you down.

That, soon, you’ll be married to a monster.

It’s after a long day at work when you see Kangdae again. However, he isn’t alone.

“What’s going on? What is this?”

You frown at the sight before you. Kangdae is on the couch, and kneeling by his feet and wrapped in a ribbon is a young man.

No, a hybrid. A bunny hybrid.

He’s very muscular, with bruises and scratches covering his golden skin. His hair is dark, matching the long, black ears on his head. And his eyes are big, round, and full of fear as he stares back at you.

“Don’t you like him? Watched him in a fight last night. He’s pretty tough for a bunny, but lost in the final round. His owner was pissed! Nearly knocked him out himself!” Kangdae cackles with laughter, seeming to have found it amusing. "But babe, remember our first date? Remember those hybrid servers you kept staring at?”

“Yes,” you reply with a frown, not really sure what he’s getting at. What do they have to do with the bunny hybrid currently in your living room?

“I convinced the owner to let me borrow his hybrid for the night. As an apology gift,” he states with a proud smile. “Had to fork up a lot of money, but the guy wasn’t too pleased about his prized fighter losing the match anyway.”

“I-I’m not… he’s…” You’re at a loss of words. How could he explain this to you so casually?

“I wanted to make it up to you, babe. Girls dig shit like this, right? Owner kept bragging on and on about how obedient he is and how much stamina he has.” Kangdae can see you’re not into the idea and comes up to you, touching your arm. “I don’t mind. I’d love to watch. Hell, I might even invite the girls over to give him a try.”

“Stop. You’re disgusting.”

How could he think you’d be okay with this? How could anyone?

Hybrids often get treated like pets, but they’re still human. 

“Ungrateful cunt. Can't you see I’m trying to do something nice for you?!” Kangdae roars, and you feel the sting on your face before it registers what happened. He just slapped you.

You’re still in shock and a bit of pain as he grabs his car keys and a jacket. You cradle your cheek as you numbly ask, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going for a drink. Don’t wait up for me.” He slams the door on his way out. You blink back the tears as a deafening silence follows the roar of his engine, the squeals of his tires as he takes off.

Is this all your fault again? Are you being ungrateful?

No, no. Kangdae is the one taking things too far. And you’re so fed up with it.

You've always been afraid to speak up for yourself. You’ve always been a coward, and wanted to play things safe. You’ve always let him walk all over you. You could never save yourself from such a miserable situation.

You’re so preoccupied with your thoughts, you almost forgot you aren’t alone. The sound of rustling catches your attention, and you see the bunny hybrid trying to unravel himself from the ribbon binding him.

“I can help you,” you offer, and he flinches at your voice. You soften your tone and try again. “Would you let me? I promise, I won’t hurt you.”

He thinks about it for a moment, glancing at you with suspicion and weariness. But he nods his head. Despite how bruised up he is, he probably figures he could overpower you if you really intended to harm him.

The two of you are silent as you untie the long ribbon from his wrists and slip it off his torso. But being this close to him also gives you a good view on all the cuts and sores he received from the fight.

Your heart sinks for him. Not only is it highly illegal, but this one is a prey. They’re not supposed to fight in the first place.

“Wait here,” you tell him once he’s free from the bondage. He rubs his wrist, but continues to sit on the floor. Nothing is really stopping him from leaving on his own, so you hurry to find a first-aid kit.

When you return to the living room, the bunny hybrid is still there. He hasn’t moved an inch from his spot. He eyes the little box in your hands, seeming to recognize it.

“I think this should help with some of your wounds. Is it okay if I help you with this too?”

This time, he nods his head more eagerly.

Again, a silence falls between you two. But it isn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it’s been a while since you’ve been in the presence of someone else and the silence felt natural. Every now and then, you’d give him a head’s up about the sting of a topical spray or ask him if the bandage you’re wrapping around him is too tight. And he watches you the whole time, nodding and shaking his head when prompted, seeming used to this. You wonder how often he has to treat his own wounds after being thrown in battle.

The silence is cut when his stomach growls loudly. He looks incredibly embarrassed as you offer a small smile. “I have some food in the fridge if you’re hungry. Let me just finish doing this.”

It doesn’t take too much time at all to treat his wounds and wrap fresh bandages on his injuries. You’ve only encountered hybrids a couple times, so you’re not entirely sure what he’d like to eat. You assume fruits and vegetables, but would that be enough?

You start to pull them out and you’re startled when you see the hybrid standing over your shoulder. You see him eyeing a jar of kimchi and take that out as well.

“Does kimchi fried rice sound good to you?” you ask him, and he nods his head more excitedly. His eyes look brighter too, as if you guessed exactly what he’s craving.

Endeared, you begin to get to work. You pull out the leftover rice, sauces, and the ingredients needed to cook it. The hybrid watches as you chop the vegetables and first cook out the onions before adding in the other vegetables and rice. In another pan, you fry a couple eggs to serve over the rice, and sprinkle some toppings of sesame seeds, nori, and sliced green onion. You ransack your fridge for some side dishes you could pair it with, serving some yellow pickled radishes, pickled cucumbers, and seaweed salad in small bowls.

The hybrid watches with big, round eyes and a jittering leg as you set the food before him. You tell him to eat and you barely take a bite of your own dish before he picks up his bowl and devours it like he hasn’t eaten in days. His brows are furrowed and he starts huffing, but he’s quick to grab the side dish closest to him and cleans that as well.

“Is it good?” you ask him tentatively. 

He gives a brief nod, mouth too full to answer, and fills his bowl with seconds.

“I’m glad. I would’ve made more if I had known you’d be this hungry,” you tell him, heart full just seeing him eat well.

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. You can’t imagine what he’s been through, and you don’t want him to be sent back to his owner. You don’t want him to be put in another dangerous and exploiting situation.

“I’m sorry about him. That guy that was here earlier,” you begin. You’ve barely eaten, but you push your share toward him. “He’s not a nice person.”

The bowl he takes from you covers his face, but his ears twitch toward you. They show that he’s listening to you.

“Your owner isn’t a nice person either, huh?”

The hybrid freezes at the mention of his owner. He lowers the bowl a little and he looks terrified. For the first time, he speaks to you. His word is barely a whisper. “Don’t…”

This time, your eyes widen. “What?”

“Please…” he begs, putting the bowl down. Grains of rice stick around his mouth as he looks at you with pleading eyes. “Please don’t let me go back to him. Please help me.”

Thank you for reading ♡ Comments & reviews are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist | Next

Relate

Daydreaming about my book:

Writing my book:

Wildflower | KNJ

Pairing : Namjoon x gn!reader

Genre : fluff, slice of life, husband!namjoon, non-idol!au

Summary : On a beautiful Sunday morning, you and your husband pick out flowers to make crowns.

Word count : 2.6k

a/n : fluffy comfort drabble. Namjoon is adorable. This is my first BTS fic. English is not my first language. Enjoy !

You woke up to the feeling of the sun warming up your skin. Your eyes fluttered open as you welcomed the morning light seeping through the white curtains. You smiled listening to the soft breaths of the man behind you, holding you delicately, an arm draped over you, hand resting on your lower stomach. 

  You turned to face your sleeping husband, moving quietly so as to not wake him and took the time to admire him. How his soft obsidian hair fell over his closed eyes, long eyelashes delicately kissing his cheeks. How the sun shined on his tan skin. With fondness, your eyes traced the line of his long charming nose, stopping at its cute little button. Your eyes followed down to his soft supple lips, waiting to be kissed. 

  As he slept, his breathing even, you could see a small smile crawling its way on his face, which made his adorable dimples appear. It warmed your heart, the love you had for him beaming out of you as you watched him sleep peacefully.

  You finally got up, put on your favourite fluffy pyjamas and headed to the small kitchen. 

  Your cottage was a simple one, made of one main room separated to your bedroom by a sheer snow-white chiffon curtain you had embellished with embroidered flowers. The living room held three cotton white walls decorated by bookshelves and various craft items you had created over the years. 

  Your absolute favourite space was the book nook you had installed under large windows. Adorned by fairy lights, homemade scented candles and a beautiful terrarium your beloved had made. A soft mattress and fluffy pillows made it the perfect space for you to escape to your latest fantasy novel, or work on your crochet projects while your husband was deep in a literary book or writing poems and lyrics, letting his brain flow naturally.

  A light blue accent wall painted with white clouds and a bright moon was the home of a piano and music equipment for your husband to write and compose. Oftentimes, you would find him lost in his work, focused eyes, teeth biting his inner lip as he typed away, breath heavy. You loved those moments when you got to be with him while you both worked on your own projects, enjoying the peaceful domesticity. 

  Waking out of your contemplation, you found your way to the kitchen to prepare a special Sunday breakfast. Just as you were finishing up, you heard a yawn, followed by featherlike footsteps coming in your direction. You turned to see Namjoon approaching you, hair tousled from sleep, eyes half opened, a sloppy grin on his face, dimples greeting you lovingly. You grinned as he came up to engulf you in a big hug, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. You could smell his flowery scent, relaxing instantly in his arms.

  'Good morning my love.’

  'Good morning Yeobo.' you could feel the smile on his lips as he answered you. 'Smells good, I'm so hungry' he said, his stomach growling in agreement.

  'I know, I made crepes!' you said excitedly. Namjoon beamed at that. His hands came to cradle your face 'Do you have any idea how much I love you ?' he asked dramatically. You giggled as he closed the distance between you and kissed you softly. 

  After a delicious breakfast spent in light conversation and loving touches, you both went to get ready for the day. It was warm and sunny outside, spring gifting you with a delicate weather for your day off. Which meant, you got to put on your favourite spring outfit. 

  Namjoon came out of the bedroom wearing a simple white tee tucked in loose egg white linen pants.

He had put on the light ivory jacket you had knitted for him. He looked stunning. Of course, he always did, but there was something about seeing him in comfortable light clothes, balancing his obsidian hair and caramel skin that made him look angelic.

  'You look so beautiful my love' you whispered, circling your arms around his shoulders bringing him close to you. He looked at you lovingly, caressing your nose gently with his, you could feel his breath on your lips. You closed your eyes, feeling at home in his arms as he closed the distance and kissed you deeply. You melted into the kiss, your hands coming to softly weave in his hair while his hands pressed on the small of your back bringing you impossibly close. Breaking the kiss when you ran out of breath, you were greeted with a wide gummy smile and you took the opportunity to kiss both his dimples.

  'Are you ready?' he asked, wiggling his eyebrows to which you nodded excitedly.

  You had a little tradition for the first Sunday of each month. No matter what, you would always spend it together and pick a new activity to try. 

You would pick an activity to do together. It could be anything but it had to be something that you wouldn't usually do. Last month, you painted flower pots and filled them with each other's birth flowers. They now stood proudly right by the entrance of your cottage. 

  You hadn't planned it that way, but after a few months of doing this, you realised that you always chose activities where you made something to gift the other. Thanks to that beautiful tradition, you now had so many tributes to the love you shared displayed in your cosy home. You absolutely adored looking at them and in a way, you loved all the empty spaces tool. They represented Sundays to be had and love to be shared. The empty spaces were your future and you couldn’t wait to fill them.

  Namjoon had a bright smile this morning leading you outside, a wicker basket in hand. You both walked peacefully to the meadow, holding hands, chatting lightly. The sun was bright, enveloping you in its warm embrace. It was a beautiful morning.

  When you got to the meadow, you set off to pick out flowers. Your husband, in all his romanticism, proposed that you would make flower crowns for each other. You absolutely loved wildflowers and was so excited to spend your morning picking them for your lover. 

  You had started by picking out clematis, Namjoon's birth flower. You then chose flowers in different shades of blue, his favourite colour. You mainly pick forget-me-nots, the very symbol of true love, representing perfectly the aura you wanted to give his crown.

  When you were satisfied with the different flowers you had picked out you sat down on the grass, enjoying the sun, watching your elegant husband walking around focused, stopping here and there to pick a flower. When he was done, he came to sit next to you, bumping your shoulder, a big smile plastered on his face.

  'You are so beautiful Yeobo. All perfect, surrounded by flowers almost as pretty as you are. I'm so lucky to have you'

  You smiled bashfully, cheeks heating up. 

  'I think I'm the lucky one, my love. I've never been as happy as I have been since I met you.' 

  'Maybe it's not luck at all,' he said dreamily, taking your hand in his. 'Maybe we’re just meant to be' 

  'I like that idea' you replied, squeezing his hand. 

  You stayed lying on the grass for a little while, enjoying the sun, making each other laugh, exchanging tender kisses. 

  As you got up to go back, you noticed Namjoon had mostly picked purple flowers, your favourite colour along with a few small sunflowers, his favourite flower. Your heart grew and a beaming smile appeared on your face. 

  When you got back home, you went to prepare two glasses of iced tea, while Namjoon got the supplies ready. He layed out some craft wires, a hot glue gun, some pearls, ribbons and a very large amount of glitter. 

  He had put on soft music and turned on fairy lights, creating an ethereal atmosphere as you both got to work quietly. You stayed focused, your crowns hidden from the other's view. 

   You carefully mapped out how you wanted the crown to look. Alternating between large clematis and smaller forget-me-nots. You covered a few bluebells with glitter and put them all around the crown. Attached some ribbons to the ends of the crown to make a cute bow. You were very thorough when you handled the flowers, watchful not to damage them. You put as much love as you had into the making of this crown and you were very proud of the result. 

You couldn’t see what Namjoon was doing, but you would sometimes sneak a glance and find him completely enthralled by what was between his hands. You could see the dedication to what he was doing. His focused state making him slouch slightly, while his brows furrowed and a cute pout appeared on his heart shaped lips. You knew he was determined to make this the most beautiful crown he could while also focusing on not ruining his meticulous work with his clumsiness.  

  You cleaned the table when you were both satisfied with your work, then proceeded to go outside, sitting on the bench swing by the cherry tree at the back of your garden. 

   You sat legs folded, facing each other, your fists levelled to decide who would be sharing their work first. Much to your delight, your scissors beat Namjoon’s paper. You smiled knowing you would be the first to show your creation. You carefully picked up the crown you had hid behind you on the bench and presented it to your lover. 

  He beamed when he saw the mix of bright blue flowers, perfectly arranged together and a few clematis here and there embellishing your work of art. A light blush came on his cheeks as he let you delicately place it on his head. He grabbed one of your hands, brought it to his lips to place a tender kiss there.

  'I love it, thank you so much Yeobo. This is the most beautiful flower crown.'

  'A perfect match for the most beautiful human' you answered proudly.

  You kissed him quickly before sitting back with a huge smile plastered on your face. 'Now my turn!' you said excitedly. You absolutely adored flower crowns, having so many different ones matching varying outfits for different occasions. You knew this was the reason why Namjoon chose this activity and you were so grateful for it. Not only was it incredibly romantic, but it also meant one of your many crowns would have been handmade by the person you loved most in this world. You didn’t need to see it to know it was already your favourite one.

  Seeing you so eager made your husband chuckle. He would do anything to see you so happy and he would bask in your happiness for as long as you would let him. Which would be forever if he had his way. He made you close your eyes which you did happily, waiting impatiently for the moment he would let you see his work. You giggled when he took advantage of your closed eyes to kiss your nose. He then whispered for you to open. 

  You gasped seeing the flower crown. You were breathtaken. Namjoon had positioned the flowers in the cutest way, each one complementing the next to perfection. You had tears in your eyes seeing the small sunflowers tangled with -your favourite flower-. The crown was beautiful and you told him as much. 

   He leaned in to put it on your head and you took advantage of that new position to kiss him deeply. He melted instantly into the kiss, cradling your face with one hand while the other came to bring you closer until you were straddling him. Separating when you were out of breath, you stared lovingly into his eyes while your fingers came to lightly trace the soft features of his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, humming softly. You whispered praises to him, thanking him for the crown. 

You sat back admiring your beautiful husband and took his hands in yours. ‘I love you more than anything’. He knew that of course, but you would never stop reminding him. And he would never stop saying it back to you, for the rest of your lives.

a/n : Thank you for reading, i hope you liked it! Don't hesitate to give me some feedback.

My dad sends me. Doctor Who character analysis sometimes and here's his latest:

11, more than any other Doctor, is the reason that River says, "Never let the Doctor see you get older." Rose, Martha, Amelia, Clara, Billie, Ryan, and Yaz are all young, all full of a sense of wonder for the things that the Doctor shows them. Donna is an adult. She first decided to become a companion because she was in a rut and wanted to run away from that. So 10 thought she would be like the the others. On their first trip, 9 showed Rose the end of the Earth. When she assumes that he is going to save the Earth, he corrected her. Stating that this is an unchangeable event. From the beginning, he trains her not to question his judgement on what he says cannot be changed. Donna was too old to fall for that and pushes back constantly. Okay, so you can't save everyone in Pompeii, then just save one person. It isn't an all or nothing proposition. He learned from that and tried to do better. Until he got too arrogant and tried to save someone he really should have let die. But then he became 11, the Doctor who forgets. The one who keeps running away more than any other. 200 years running away from Lake Silence. Years in a cloud over Victorian London. Years spent in a monastary.

If he can't save everyone, then fine. He won't save anyone.

Then he became 12, with a face to remind him of Donna's lesson.

Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what 

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader. 

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another” 

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on. 

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once. 

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose  

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc. 

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with. 

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details. 

Don’t try to describe everything. 

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

HEEEEELP

Donna and the Doctor are the best 🔥🥹

Forever obsessed with how Donna Noble was supposed to be a one off Christmas special character and then it was like "OOPS! We accidentally wrote The Doctor's soulmate and home. We should probably get her back on huh"

Be kind. 🩷

Mr. Gaiman, is there any advice you would give to a fellow human being? (asking for a friend)

Be kind.

I don't know how to be me anymore

Pairing : platonic!Buckyxgn!reader

Summary : Bucky's always felt different. When he finally starts being ready to figure out what it means, he turns to you to try and find out where to go from here.

Warnings : Nb!Buckyxnb!reader, tiny bit of angst, comfort, fluff, dragcreature!reader, Buck trying to figure out who he is

Word count : 2,494

A/N : Hi guys, I finally decided to post my second fic! I tried to write something as wholesome as possible. Hopefully some of you will find some comfort reading this.

English is not my first language. Don't hesitate to tell me if something is incorrect.

Bucky opened the door abruptly. His hair was a mess, as if he had been running his hands through them for a while. You could see he was nervous.

He had been cryptic in his text asking you to come over. You weren't sure what it was about but seeing his trembling hands, you knew it had to be important. You looked at him with a smile, trying to ease his nerves.

'Can I come in?'

He then registered the fact that you had been standing in his doorway waiting for him to move his body out of the way. He look at you sheepishly.

'Sorry. Please do come in. I'll get you some water. Are you hungry? I should have made us something to eat. I can heat up some leftov-'

'A glass of water is perfect. And I just ate before coming, thank you though'. You stopped his rambling, a reassuring look on your face. 

He went to the kitchen to fill up two glasses with water.

'So, what did you want to talk to me about?'

He looked at you surprised. 'How do you know I wanted to talk to you about something?'

You smiled. 'Well I guess I know you that well. Or maybe I'm clairvoyant. Also, you might have sent me a text saying are you free, I need to talk to you about something.

'Oh, right' He chuckled a bit, his hand finding its way behing his neck, a slight blush colouring his cheeks.

You could see how hard this was for him, his hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he eyes looking everywhere and nowhere all at once. 

'Hey, whatever it is, it's me you're talking to. I understand you're nervous but I’m here to listen. I'm not here to judge or give you unsollicited advice. I'm your friend, and I here, always. You can count on me.'

A small smile found its way on his face. He figured he might as well dive into it, no point in delaying it.

He had known he needed someone to talk to about this. Not just someone, you. And he felt ready. No matter how hard it was to actually say the words out loud, he wanted to. 

He sat down on the sofa gesturing for you to do the same. He took a big breath, and started talking.

'Do you remember when you dressed me up and did my makeup for your show?'

A few weeks back, during one of your shows as a dragcreature, the public had to come wearing at least one item a drag queen/king/person/creature. Bucky had wanted to go all out. He always loved coming to your shows and was hell bent on being the fiercest in the audience. 

You nodded. He had been praised by all your fellow drag performers, having shown up looking like a dark priestess, slaying makeup, hair, outfit and demeanor.

'I felt something as you were doing my makeup. I felt powerful and amazing when I looked at myelf in the mirror'

'I know. I saw how you face lit up. And I noticed how you kept staring at your makeup in the rear view mirror.'

Bucky blushed looking down. 

'Don't be embarassed, I do it too.'

Bucky took a breath, you could see he had started to relax a bit. What he said next showed you he felt safe enough to open up. 

'Back in the army, with the howling commandos, we went out for a drink one night.

We were exhausted, both physically and emotionally and it felt good to take a break. To not be soldiers but a group of people, having a drink, not thinking about the war raging around us. 

Steve was having a hard time relaxing. He didn't know how to put the shield down, not even for one night. So the guys and I, we decided to go do a little private show for him.

We went to the dancers' tent and tried their USO costumes on. The amosphere was light, we were having fun being silly together.'

He took a pause. Looked down, his hands trembling harder. 

'When I put on the costume, I felt that thing. The same thing I felt when you dressed me up. I felt b... I felt beautiful. It felt right. 

And I had the biggest smile on my face. I twirled, I danced, I laughed. I felt like there was nothing that could take that feeling away. 

Steve noticed. Of course he did. He knew me better than anyone. He didn't say anything though. Well, not with words anyway.'

A small, nostalgic smile crept up on his face. 

'He stole one of the USO uniforms, the one I had on that night and gifted it to me. He said it was to remember that night by, but we both knew there was actually a way deeper meaning to it.'

Bucky looked at you, for the first time since he started talking.

'Did you know they kept it? It was in the museum along with the howling commandos' stuff from the war.'

You knew his question was rhetorical so you just nodded, urging him to keep going. 

'While I was recovering in Wakanda, Steve visited me often. Well, he said he came for me but we all knew it was the goats really.' he joked.

The atmosphere felt lighter. Like the more he talked about this, the less scary it became. 

You knew the weight of what he was telling you and it moved you to know you were the one he felt safe to talk about that with. 

He kept going.

'After Okoye helped get rid of he trigger words, he came to celebrate. We spent the night drinking, laughing, remeniscing about our childhood. 

He told me of his life since he'd been in this time. What he had learned, how he tried to build a life for himself here without really ever succeding. How he missed our world. 

He felt that Captain America was all he was anymore. Steve Rogers had died that night on the plane and he never managed to get past that. He never really tried to give himself a new life here. 

He was stuck in this time. I'm so happy that he got his chance to go back. To live the life he was always supposed to live.'

You could see how much he missed his best friend. He had talked to you about that before. The first time the two of you had talked was actually after Steve had gone. You were both overtook with emotion, sad to see a friend go and happy that he finally had a chance at happiness. 

'We both knew I wouldn't want to but he did ask me if I wanted to go back with him. But I knew I didn't belong there anymore. 

I don’t belong anywhere anymore... But I could and I want to. 

'The night before he left, he came to me with a gift. It was that very same costume from all those decades ago. He had stolen it from the museum a few years back. 

He told me that night when we dressed up was one of his fondest memories. One he held close to his heart. Because he understood that I had found a part of myself that night.' 

A tear made its way down his cheek. His voice starting to get uneven. 

'We never really talked about what I felt, what it meant, what I wanted. I think we didn't know how to. But he did tell me something that stuck with me.'

'He said that now, it was my responsibility to bring back the Bucky I was. Or to discover the Bucky I am. Maybe a bit of both. 

This time suited me better than it ever did him. And here, I could actually have a chance to figure out who I wanted to be. Who I had been all this time without knowing, without having the luxury to be. 

'I'm so grateful for that night. And I'm so grateful I got to meet the Steve you knew, even for a little bit.'

You looked at each other and smiled. Steve was the reason you two had met. Even gone, he had found a way to make both your lives less lonely. 

More confidently now, he kept going. 

'I made him a promise that night. To learn to never let anybody define or decide who I am. To learn that only I had the power to do that.'

A tear escaped you. 

'That's beautiful Bucky. And really brave too. 

I'm glad you had those moments. Even if they were few and far between.'

Bucky smiled. He took a moment to think back. He was grateful to have been able to experience those tiny little moments where he felt whole. But he wanted more. 

He looked at you expectedly.

'I asked you here because I need your help. I'm trying to figure out who I am. How to be the person I want to be now. How to be a person now. I know what I want to learn but I don't know where to start or what to ask.

Or who to talk to, exept you. I trust you, I have since the moment I met you. And you have taught me so much already. I'm asking you to teach me more. To support me and guide me through this journey.’

You smiled and took his hands in yours. 

'You are so brave. And you should be so so proud of yourself. I know I am. 

This is a potentially difficult and terrifying journey but oh how beautiful a journey it is. It won't always be easy, but no matter what you find out about yourself, it is worth it. Believe me. 

We've talked about what the gender spectrum is and how it can express itself. How it's vast and both very simple and quite overwhelming. And how you don't have to know where you find yourself in it. 

And the way you're feeling today, how you would define yourself today doesn't have to be the same as the way you feel tomorrow. 

That's part of the beauty of gender.'

'Was it hard for you? Did you always know?'

'It was hard. Very hard at times. But it was also so easy. I didn't know, not for the longest time. 

It came slowly at first.  When I would read about transgender people, non-binary or otherwise, sharing their story, I would understand. I would relate even. 

After a while, I allowed myself to realise that if I felt like I understood, like I knew where they came from then maybe it was where I belonged. 

The more I thought about freeing myself from the binary, the lighter I felt. The closer to myself I felt. 

I was lucky enough to have very supportive friends who were by my side as I naviguated all the questions and changes that came.

They never rushed me or asked me to know exactly who I was or to have any sort of answer. They understood that I was trying to figure out my identity. That I felt as lost as much as I felt found. 

I can't tell you it will go well with everyone because unfortunately it won't. But I hope you know you can find that kind of support with me. I think you can find it with Sam too, if you want.’ 

He nodded. He might not be ready to talk about that with Sam yet, but he did know he could. 

'The world has evolved, but there are still some people who don't want to accept it or who don't want to see it. And they can be so violent in their need for us not to exist. 

And then there are people who will love you and accept without ever really understanding. Not because they don't want to. They just can't seem to, i guess? 

My family is that way. When I came out to them, they asked questions. Tried to understand what it meant, how it felt like. And no matter how much they tried, they never really did understand. 

You looked down.

'They are the only people who still use my deadname you know.

Some of them because they are having a hard time wrapping their heads around the idea that I'm not the person they saw me as. Some of them refusing to accept that I'm not actually the person they saw me as.'

'I'm sorry y/n. I know how much it hurts you.'

'Yes, it does hurt. When they use my deadname, when they don't use the right pronouns. When they invalidate me feeling bad when they do that. 

But they still love me. Me being me has never changed the way they love me. 

Of course I wish they would respect who I am. And I know my situation would not be acceptable for some people. And I get that I really do.

Having your parents still love you after you come out shouldn't be something to be grateful about. But for now, I guess having their love has to be enough for me.'

You took time to reflect. Thinking about how your family is handling your transition hurts, and it's hard to navigate not wanting to lose them while asking for them to respect who you are.

You tried to find the right words. 

'My family is the one I made. The one I'm making, the one I'm choosing everyday. Composed of both relatives and the amazing people whom I love and want to share my life with. 

And you are one of them you know. One of the people who sees me for who I am and loves me unconditionally. 

And I love you and I see you.'

You were both crying. Not sad tears, maybe not happy tears either. But the tears you get from beeing seen. Truly seen. The tears you get from feeling the love someone has for you. The tears that make you feel like maybe you can learn to love yourself that way too. 

He smiled. 

'I love you and I see you.'

'I'll by your side, Buck. Through this journey and any other, always. I'll support you, I'll be there when you need a hug, a book, a sickening makeup, a person to cry with, a person to laugh with. When you need my wonderful vegan banana bread.'

He laughed. You loved hearing him laugh.

'I mean it. I'm here, for it all. I love you.'

He came closer and took you in his arms. Held you so tight. You stayed like that for a while, neither one of you ready to let go. He was crying. You could feel a wet spot growing on your shoulder. You didn't mind. He put his head in the crook of your neck and whispered

'I love you.'

Thank you for reading and remember you are loved ❤️

You can always come to me if you need someone to talk to. We have to be there for each other 🥰

Already Gone

Pairing : Bucky x gn!reader

Summary : You wake up one day to find that Bucky's gone. You don't know why, or what happened. When he comes back, you sit down to have a much needed conversation.

Warnings : angst, established relationship, lack of communication, heartbreak, hint of eating disorder, Bucky doesn't talk much, he knows it's too late

Word count : 460

A/N : Hi guys, this is the first fanfic I wrote, I know I have a lot to learn so don't hesitate to give me feedback ! English is not my first language.

'Do you still want us to be together?'

'I don't know anymore...'

The words you'd both had been dreading to hear.

Bucky had been gone for a week, this is the first words you've spoken to him since that time. Your heart broke when you said them, but you couldn't ignore this, not anymore.

'You left.'

'I needed space.'

'But you didn't tell me. How do you think it felt when I woke to find out you were gone?'

You took a breath. You didn't want this conversation to be a fight.

'You needed space, fine. You need anything, that's okay, we talk about it and we figure it out. But you have to talk to me.'

'I didn't know how to say it.'

'We're in a relationship Bucky, without communication we don't have anything!

It's okay to need space. In fact, it's good to realise when you do.

What is not okay is for you to leave in the middle of the night without saying anything. No note, no nothing.'

'I texted you I was okay.'

'Yeah, the next day. After I'd been worried sick. And all you said was not to worry. I didn't know when you'd be back, or if you'd be back. I didn't know wether I'd done something wrong.

You left without telling me. I spent the worst week because of you. My last meal was the day before you left, I haven't slept, I was at my worst, I needed you and you weren't there.'

'I know, I screwed up, I'm sorry.'

'Sorry's not enough. Not anymore. You can't hurt me and then come back with a 'sorry' and expect everything to be okay.'

'I know.'

'I don't want it to keep happening either. I never want to hurt you. I'll do better, we'll do better.'

'This is not the first time I was hurt because of you, of us. We keep hurting each other no matter how much we try not to.

I cried all the tears I have. I don't want it to keep happening.'

'I don't know that we can.'

'What can I do to make it better?'

Bucky was in tears, you could see the hurt in his eyes. He was pleading, begging you to give him another chance. But it was all too much. You knew this was going to be some of the worst pain you've ever felt, but eventually you'd both be okay. You believed that. What you didn't know was if you'd both survive hurting each other again.

'I don't know that there's anything you can do.

We've built a relationship on the fear of losing each other. I don't know that we can come back from that.

We're unhappy when we're not together. We can't spend too much time apart.

I don't have a life outside of us and that's not fair!'

'I know it doesn't mean anything anymore, but I'm sorry.'

'I'm not saying all that's on you. It's on me too.'

You couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't be an us anymore.

'I love you. More than anything in this world. I don't want to lose you.'

I know it's missing a lot. It's basically a conversation with not enough description, not enough of an understanding of what the characters are feeling. I don't know how to do that yet but when I do, I'll rewrite it.

'I love you too. I'll always love you. But I'm already gone.'

It felt so good writing this. I hope you'll like it!

i’ll never get over how gorgeous the interior of 13’s tardis is 🥺🥺

Being the change I want to see in the world by making more doctor who memes

💙

"it's always you and her, isn't it? long after the rest of us are gone..."

- the TARDIS and her Doctor

Hey Neil! Do you have any advice for aspiring authors around dealing with tropes? I'm writing something but at times it feels like everything is too trope-y. I don't want to go against the tropes though just for the sake of it! Cheers - A very self critical writer

I kind of wish that the whole "TV tropes" thing had never happened, to be honest. As far as I'm concerned it's like a website that analyses word use or letter of the alphabet use, with the additional function of making people self-conscious.

There aren't a lot of story shapes. In a love story, people get to meet. Either they meet dramatically or they meet in a way that is interesting by being undramatic. Either they fall for each other or they don't, or one falls but the other doesn't. Something had better prevent them from getting together, whether it's pride or a guard with a gun, because otherwise you don't have a plot, unless they get together and then something goes wrong... and on and on. Everything is going to be some kind of trope, and none of that actually matters. What matters is the story. Pretend you've never heard of tropes.

Tell your story. Tell it new, tell it freshly, have fun telling it. Make characters we care about, give them interesting problems to solve, sort it out in the end or at least make the ending, whether happy or sad, feel satisfying, and you'll be fine.

Anyways here’s some positivity for trans people who go by their birth name. You aren’t any less trans for using your birth name and you are 100% valid and wonderful. It’s okay if you dont feel uncomfortable with your birth name, and it’s okay if you don’t want to change it you are wonderful and still part of the trans community ily <3

transmeds don’t you dare fucking breathe near this post

Tips for kids online

Pseudonyms! Use them! Even if it’s a nickname, a favorite character’s name, a letter, your username, use a pseudonym. Especially if you have a unique name

Private information is PRIVATE. Last name, age, full birthday. Things that could be used to identify you should not be shared. Remember those “enter anyone’s name and learn everything about them” websites? They aren’t kidding around, and they’re dangerous.

Your house is your business. Don’t share your home address, school name, city, even sharing what state you live in could be risky. There’s no reason for people online to need to know this, there’s no reason for people online to ask for it. This is a red flag

Pictures are worth a thousand words. Take note of what’s in pictures you post. Can you see a state flag? A pet’s collar with a home address on it? Does that screenshot have your phone number in it? Be careful with EXACTLY what you post.

Once you post it, it’s not yours anymore. Anyone on the internet can share a post, take screenshots, repost to other websites, send to other people, etc. Once you post something, what happens to it is out of your hands. Make sure you be careful with what you post.

Face and voice can reveal a lot about you. They can reveal age, agab, in some cases they can be used to determine where you live (accents anyone?) be careful.

Please kids on the internet, BE SAFE. Remember these are strangers. Remember the internet is full of real people with their own motives and intentions. Remember that you can’t control the internet. Please please PLEASE be safe!

Are you sad that June is over and you don't have a pride month anymore? Fear not, friends! There's a different pride month just beginning! lgballt

This scene is so important and that's something I never had with my parents when I came out. They never understood that the hurt they caused with their remarks was actually there. They just think that since it happened before they knew, it's on me.

Seeing that scene felt sooo good because I actually saw a parent, taking responsibility for the hurt they might have caused and try to stop any kind of guilt Simon might have been feeling.

Happy Pride Month everyone, I'm sooo excited 🏳️‍🌈 💙💛💖

uh oh my hand slipped

Happy Pride Month! 🐝

I'm feeling sooooo many emotions right now. I cried so hard, this was beautiful ! I didn't know how much I needed Zemo to see his family one last time 🥺

And the way her past trauma is affecting her now has me completely hooked, I wanna find out more ! And I definetely like her slowly opening up, I'm so glad Zemo's here and so soft and understanding 🥰

I can't wait for the rest !

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 13

A/N: Y’all this took me forever to write and it was heartbreaking as well. 😭 Be prepared to cry I guess. Let me know if you would like to be tagged. 🖤🖤🖤

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside.

Warnings: language, angst, blood, nightmares, supernatural, brief mentions of past trauma

You had awoken with a start that night, sweat beaded at your forehead and your chest heaving with jagged breaths that felt like icy daggers piercing your lungs. You choked back a sob, throwing your cold and clammy palm over your lips that were wet with the salt of your tears and sweat as you tried to suppress the cry that dared to escape your throat. You had yet another nightmare, but this wasn’t the same ones you had of Ares. No, this was different. You had instead dreamt about the time you received the scars on your back. But it wasn’t so much this dream that had you terrified to your core, no, it was the one that followed that filled you with the utmost dread and horror.

You could still see the images of your dream playing vividly in your mind. The way everything was dry and devoid of water and life, covered in ash everywhere you looked and surrounded in this eerie darkness. Thick, dark clouds blanketed the sky, banishing the sun out of existence where not even a single ray of sunlight could pass. The clouds moved at an unnatural pace, which you thought should have accompanied winds of an incredible speed, but no, the air was deadly still and silent. The only sounds were the cracks of lightning that would strike the earth, yet there wasn’t any signs of rain as far as the eye can see. You remembered seeing how the earth beneath your feet was split open in cracks, from which fire would occasionally spring forth through the openings at the surface.

And as you neared one of the cracks to investigate, you found yourself peering down at a pit so deep, that if you had dropped a coin in it, it would have taken nine days just to reach the bottom. And there at the bottom was an ocean of flames and lava, and what you found at the very bottom filled you with this cold chill that you never wanted to ever experience. There at the bottom lay thousands of souls of the wicked, wailing in torment as they were chained to the ground, their bodies naked and skeletal looking as they reached their arms out above them, desperately grasping and clawing for anything they could use to climb their way out.

You’ve seen this place many times before. You were in Káto Kósmos (underworld) where you used to work with your uncle Hades, your role was to guide souls from the mortal world to Káto Kósmos and Elysium, hence one of your nicknames ‘torch-bearer’. When you had first came to this place with your uncle, you had never been more terrified of the scenery. And though you spent many days here, you could never get accustomed to the anguish that surrounded it.

But this abyss in particular was none other than Tartarus, where your grandfather Kronos was locked up. And as you looked to the corner, there you saw him, Kronos, chained up to the walls of the abyss, his skin reminiscent of the lava and dark cracked walls around him. You stood frozen to your spot as he turned to face you, his eyes blazing like the fires of the pit as he bared his sharp teeth in a sinister grin, lava dripping from the corners of his mouth. You saw him glance down to where your arms were, and as you followed his gaze your eyes widened in horror and your blood ran colder than the iciest parts of this hell. There in your arms lay your daughter, devoid of any color and paler than the vampires you had known, her body stiff and cold.

And that is when you woke up.

You were currently still sat on your bed, your face resting between your hands as you shivered from the bundle of nerves. You felt like throwing up from the ocean of emotions that made you feel like you were drowning. With a shaking breath and trembling hands, you peeled the covers off your body, moving over to get off the bed as you repeatedly told yourself how it was all just a dream, nothing more, just a dream. It’s just a dream. With knees that felt like they were about to give away, you wobbled over to the bathroom, clutching the walls as you went. After turning the lights on, you nearly jumped at the sight of your arms. That deathly color had returned to your arms once again, that charcoal gray mauve purple hue that started as jet black from your claw like fingers and hands before fading out to the previous color, now spread to your biceps with a movement similar to vines.

You squeezed your eyes shut against the violent throbbing in your head as the voices of the tormented from beneath the earth below, filled your ears like a wave had come crashing down on your head. You clasped your hands over your ears, the throbbing increasing in intensity as you slid down the bathroom door, muttering the repeated words of a spell over and over until everything started to ease. As the headache and voices died down like the passing of a breeze, you opened your eyes back up, reaching over to turn the bathroom lights off. You rubbed your temples, a string of curses and a groan leaving your lips before glancing down at your hands to see that the color was fading away, crawling back down your arms like vines and leaving your skin back to its natural tone. You sat there for a minute with your head leaned back against the door and your legs spread straight out on the cold tile floor. With a shuddered sigh, you grabbed onto the cold counter and pulled yourself up with a grunt, turning on the faucet and tying your hair up in a loose bun before washing your face with the cold water, drying yourself off with a towel straight after.

After stepping out of the bathroom, you navigated through the dark bedroom and went to open your bag that was on the table, pulling out your bottle of aged Olympian wine that your sibling Dionysus made specially for you. The wonderful thing about Dionysus’s wines were that they never ran out, the bottles always managed to remain full. Though that could have posed as a problem since most of the attendees at Dionysus parties were always passed out drunk on every part of his house imaginable. You once found someone passed out cold on one of the ledges near the tall ceiling, you wondered at how they even got there in the first place. But Dionysus was always known for throwing the wildest parties and that was what was to be expected when others attended them. You had only been to one of their parties because you weren’t a fan of them in the first place, but Dionysus had insisted, telling you how much of a blast it would be. You ended up spectating with horror in the corner of the room as everyone trashed the place and pulled the most absurd stunts and pranks. At the end of the night you made sure no one rode their pegasus home drunk.

But the reason you pulled out the wine in the first place was because you needed something strong after the visions you had, you weren’t looking to get drunk but you at least wanted to calm your mind after what you saw in your sleep. With your bottle in hand, you went to sit on the window nook, your feet perched up on the other side of the wall that was connected to the window. You looked like a mess with your unruly hair and the hem of your lace trimmed calf length nightgown ridden up to the top of your thighs while one of the thin straps had slipped down your shoulders, almost exposing the entirety of your breast. You sat there for a while, taking occasional sips of the wine and closing your eyes from the deep rich berry flavor that still lingered on your tongue as you stared out at the neon city of high town Madripoor. You prayed that what you saw was just a dream, nothing more, just a simple yet incredibly petrifying nightmare and not some twisted prophecy. But though Olympus may had been gone, the underworld still remained. That is why you had taken every precaution in your power, spell after spell, and enlisted every demon and monster under your command to make sure the doors to the realm below remained chained and locked so that none of the evils from it could escape. Some time had passed until you heard a light tap on your door, making you almost choke on the wine as you swallowed it down, closing up the bottle and rushing over to shove it back in your bag.

“Come in.” You said out loud enough for the person outside your door to hear but not to the point where everyone else could. You grabbed your robe and turned around, adjusting the strap of your nightgown before slipping on your robe just as you heard your door open and shut. Whoever it was, you didn’t want them to see you like this, and most importantly you didn’t want them to see the scars on your back. Tying the belt of your robe around your waist, you turned around to see.........

“Zemo?” You raised a brow at him, seeing him standing at your door in his matching pajamas and robe. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink and his hair looked out of place for the first time. “What are you doing here?”

“I apologize if I had disrupted your sleep.” He looked to the floor with a slight bow of his head. His voice was quiet and he didn’t meet your eyes, his gaze still focused on the floor. It almost looked as if he felt rude for coming to your room and disturbing you at this ungodly hour.

“Well I’ve been awake for a while now so you’re not the one to blame.” You sighed, gesturing over to the window nook. “Have a seat. Do you need some water? You look like shit.”

“Please, if you don’t mind.” He scoffed lightly at your observation of him as he finally looked up at you, thanking you as he went over to sit by the window.

You went over to the table that had your bag and opened up the bottle of water Sharon had already placed there, filling up the two glasses that were there. Zemo watched you as you fixed up the glasses, but unbeknownst to you, his eyes were more so trained on your back instead. He knew. He had caught a glimpse of them when he stepped into your room, right when you were slipping on your robe in a hurried fashion. You were too late. And from the way they were lined across your back, Zemo knew there was only one way you could have gotten them.

You stood there for a moment at the table, contemplating on an idea before you made up your mind and reached into your bag, pulling out a small glass vial and swirling the glowing blue contents around. Popping open the cork top, you poured just a drop into Zemo’s glass, watching it dissolve into the water. Grabbing both glasses, you walked back over to where Zemo sat and handed his glass to him.

“What’s in it? Poison?” Zemo quirked, he saw you drop a strange liquid into it and you weren’t even trying to be sly about it.

“Nah.” You scrunched your nose. “I’m too tired and lacking motivation to poison you. I added a tonic, to help you with whatever the hell you are feeling. It’ll make you feel and look less like shit. You gotta finish the whole glass though, not that it tastes bad. Ice?”

“Oh, um sure. Thank you.” Zemo looked up at you. Well that was kind of you.

You waved a hand over his glass and a clinking sound was heard as three cubes of ice formed in his drink. Zemo stared at the glass, he really had to start getting accustomed to your strange ways. You formed ice cubes in your own glass as well before sitting down on the other side of the nook.

“I want to apologize about the gestures I made towards you and putting you in that predicament. You didn’t deserve to be put on display like that, especially near Selby.” Zemo spoke up.

“It’s fine, really.” You shook your head. “I have your ring by the way.”

“Keep it. As a sort of compensation.”

“I can’t. That ring looks expensive. You could at least return it and get your money back.”

“Keep it, I insist. It looks good on you anyways.”

“Oh........okay then. So what’s really bothering you?” You questioned as you took a drink of the cold water to help waken you up.

“I saw my family again in my dreams. Or at least, what I last saw of them.” Zemo glanced down at his glass before taking a sip of the tonic you prepared for him. There wasn’t much of a taste, maybe a slight hint of a berry, but right after doing so, he already felt slightly better.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered.

“And what’s keeping you awake?”

“Things that were...things that are...and some things...that have not yet come to pass.” You leaned back against the window.

“Did you really just-“

“Yes I quoted Galadriel. I didn’t know how else to put what I’m going through.” You sighed before sitting up abruptly, staring at him like he had asked you the most bizarre question before dropping your expression to that of a solemn one. Did he just? “You want me to contact your dead family, don’t you.”

Zemo whipped his head towards you. Did you just read his mind? You said you wouldn’t do that unless absolutely necessary.

“Well your thought was incredibly loud might I add.” You answered. “I can’t do anything about it when you mortals like to scream in your heads.”

“I apologize.” Zemo shook his head. “It was a ridiculous thought. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“No.” You stopped him. “I.....I can do it. If you want to of course. I....can’t bring your family back, it’s too risky and won’t end well. But I can contact their spirits.”

Zemo looked at you as if you had lost your mind, unable to form words at the moment. Were you really going to contact his deceased family? He was a bit uneasy about it at first, but at the same time, he needed to see them again, even if it was for one last time.

“I......I would like to see them again, but mostly so I can properly say goodbye.”

You nodded your head in understanding, going over to set the glass down on the table before pulling out your dagger.

“What is that for?” Zemo eyed the dagger in your hand as the blade glinted in the moonlight.

“Well I’m going to have to open up a portal to the dead, and in order to do that, I need blood. But don’t worry. I’m using my own blood.” With a wave of your hand you made five lit candles appear in a circle on the floor, representing the five points of your pentagram, the burning flames stood still from the lack of a breeze. “You don’t have to watch this process if it disturbs you.” You turned to him, to which Zemo shook his head. He wasn’t going to back out now, in fact, he was curious. Never had he thought he would be seeking the help of the goddess of witchcraft herself to preform an act of necromancy. You kneeled down on the floor in the center of the candles, holding your arms out before you with your dagger clutched in one hand. Muttering a few words in Ancient Greek, you dragged the tip of your dagger through your palm, wincing from the pain and using your blood for the the runes you painted on the floor. After the last incantation, you sat there in silence as Zemo did the same.

“What are you-“

“Shhh.” You hushed him, putting a finger to your lips as you waited for the telltale signs. And there it was. There came a small chilly breeze, flickering the flames of the candles though there wasn’t the slightest opening in the room for a breeze to pass through. The temperature of the room dropped to where you could see your breath escape your lips in a cloud of fog. Zemo shivered, and as you looked ahead, three silhouettes began to take form in front of you, taking the shape of an older gentleman, a beautiful woman, and a little boy who looked like a much younger version of Zemo and the woman, until they looked fully human like they haven’t touched or seen the slightest shrivel of death. Their presence instantly brightened up the room in a warm, comforting glow.

Zemo held his breath at the sight before him, he thought that his heart might stop, or that he was just in another dream, that none of this was real. The three spirits bowed their heads to you in respect as you gave them a kind smile, the same smile a mother would give a child. You looked over at Zemo as they did the same, following your gaze until their faces lit up once they saw who sat before them. You stood up and went over to Zemo, taking the glass out of his hands and setting it down before he dropped it, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Go say hi.” You smiled down at him.

Zemo looked up at you, unable to form words from the emotions he was currently feeling. You swore you thought he looked like a scared young boy at that moment, his eyes filled with this slight fear and surprise. Zemo gulped, looking back at his family as he choked out their names, his voice hoarse and dry.

“Papa!” The little boy ran to him.

Zemo jumped out of his seat as he frantically rushed over to the boy, kneeling down to hold him in his arms.

You widened your eyes at Zemo’s sudden movement, secretly flicking your wrists to solidify their forms before they came in physical contact with each other. You couldn’t bear to see their expressions, especially Zemo’s, if he had come to find out he couldn’t even touch them, that his hands would pass right through his loved ones. You’ve seen it happen before, they were only spirits after all, no longer mortal.

“Carl. Oh Carl.” Zemo sobbed as he kissed his son’s forehead, clutching his son’s small frame to him with his hand cradling his head like it was the last thing he could do.

“I missed you Papa.” Carl smiled at up Zemo. “Princess Hekate helped us, did you know! She’s so nice! She gave us a beautiful place to live in........in......” The boy furrowed his brows as he tried to remember the name of the place they currently resided in before looking at you for help.

“Ēlýsion my child.” You smiled, tears brimming the corners of your eyes at the heart wrenching scene before you.

“Yeah! El.....El......Ēlýsion!” Carl grinned as he got the name right, making Zemo chuckle.

You almost gasped at the sound that left Zemo’s lips. You had never seen him genuinely smile, or even laugh. But this, seeing him like this made you feel a sense of peace within yourself, and yet, there was that guilt, because this was only temporary.

“It’s sooooo beautiful there dad! And there’s so many nice furry animals there that are my friends!”

“That’s wonderful Carl.” Zemo smiled down at his son as he stroked his hair. He wished he could freeze time, so he could live in this moment forever.

“Helmut, my love.” The woman now softly spoke as she smiled down at him.

Zemo looked up at her with wide eyes before standing up and embracing her, holding her as close to him as possible. “Heike, schatzi.”

You turned away as they shared a kiss, looking down at the floor and playing with the silk fabric of your nightgown.

Zemo went to embrace his father next before holding them all as close to him as possible, afraid that if he let go, they might disappear at his fingertips.

You glanced at them once more smiling at seeing them so happy together before starting to make your way towards the door to leave them some privacy but Zemo had stopped you in your tracks, calling you by your name. “Wait, don’t go. We would all like it if you stayed with us.”

You turned back around, seeing them beckoning you back with kind smiles, and so you did. Even though Zemo knew you had already met his family, he still wanted to introduce you to them like he would if they were alive. He was able to do what he couldn’t do before, he was able to look at his family in a much more lively state, he was able to catch up on events with them, he was able to tell his son more stories, he was able to tell them how much he loved them. But the last thing left for him to do, was to tell them goodbye, for the final time.

You placed a hand on Zemo’s shoulder, “I’m sorry Zemo, but time is almost out.”

Zemo nodded his head as he understood what you told him, the same saddened expression returned to his face, but this time it was different, it was almost a peaceful kind of sadness, one that signified a sense of acceptance. Zemo embraced each of them for one last time, keeping a memento in his mind of their individual scents and the feeling of their frames in his hands as he told them all goodbye and how much he loved them for one last time. His father, wife, and son held hands with each other as they stood before him, each of them wearing a glowing smile on their faces.

Heike looked to her husband with an expression that held much more meaning behind it, one that you had seen the deceased give their loved ones. “It’s not your time yet.” She told him before turning to you with a smile that said thank you, though her eyes told you there was something more she wanted to share with you. So as you glanced into her thoughts, you saw her mention one thing. ‘Be there for him, he needs you.’ And then they faded away, returning to the Elysian Fields and leaving your room in the darkness it was before, the moonlight being the only source of light since the candles had burned out.

“Goodbye.” You heard him say farewell once more, and for the very last time.

You looked over at Zemo to see if he was okay and saw him still standing there, staring at the same spot they stood at not too long ago.

“Thank you.” He muttered as he now turned to you.

“No need to thank me. You both needed to see each other.”

He stepped closer to you now, his eyes scanning the floor as he searched for a way to thank you. You had done so much for him, maybe it was a simple task for you, but it meant everything to him, how could he ever repay you. You glanced down as you saw his hand reach towards you, he was much closer now, merely inches apart as you could almost feel the heat radiating of his body. If you moved just an inch towards him, your chest would have brushed against him, the only thing separating you two would be a layer of fabric. You shivered as you felt Zemo’s fingers brush against the side of your neck as he moved away your loose strands of hair that had fell out of your bun. His fingers left a trail of goosebumps as they went over your bare collarbone and shoulder, before going over the fabric of your robe and down your clothed arm before brushing up against the bare skin of your hand, the same hand where you had just sliced yourself.

You watched as his fingers wrapped delicately around your wrist as he brought your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles before gazing down at you. Your face was hot as you finally gathered the courage to look up at him, you felt as if you would melt into a muddle at his feet from the way he held you before him. He made you feel entirely vulnerable and you did the same to him. Zemo thought you looked absolutely radiant in the moonlight, perhaps being the goddess of the moon had something to do with it, but you looked entirely ethereal. Zemo’s eyes never left yours as he turned your hand over before breaking his gaze to glance down at your palm, tracing a finger over the area where you had sliced yourself, the fresh wound that was there was now replaced with a scar. Zemo placed a soft delicate kiss on your scar that had formed, afraid that it might have still caused you pain even though it had healed over.

“Thank you.” He whispered before looking into your eyes once more.

Your hand was still held in his as he used his other hand to caress your cheek, cupping your jaw softly while his thumb brushed along the skin that was there. You reached your free hand up to where his was on your jaw, placing your hand on his wrist and seeing the softest smile on his lips as you did so, you stood there, held in each other’s gaze before he started to lean in. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you knew what was to come next. You parted your lips, desperately wanting to cave in to the feeling of his lips on yours but you turned your head, your eyes closed and your jaw tight.

You couldn’t.

Zemo saw the way you turned and the expression that was held on your face, feeling your grip on his wrist become firm. Zemo let out a soft breath he was holding in, not knowing why you had turned away from him in the last moment. Did he upset you? He didn’t mean to upset you.

“I’m sorry Zemo, I just.......I can’t.” You refused to look into his eyes or else you’d burst into tears in front of him.

“I understand Schatzi.” He whispered to you before placing a soft kiss on your cheek instead, his lips lingering there for a minute as he let go of your hand after placing another kiss to your knuckles. “Get some sleep schatzi. You deserve it.”

You heard your door close softly behind him as he left your room, the tingling sensation on your cheek still lingered like a phantom, from the feeling of the kiss he left behind.

Tag List: @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thebivirgin @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @Gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky @mylifeispainandiloveit @fillechatoyante @padmoonyfeorge @montypythonsholysnail @pollynx @aziraslowlylosestheirshit @roundbrownlover @awesomeowlbook @bookloverfilmoholic

Thanks @a-edgar-allan-hoe for tagging me, this is my first prom 🥰 Everyone looks so good ☀️

Tumblr Prom 2021

in honour of today’s Tumblr Prom 2021, here’s my picrew outfit <33

@verose-queen-of-hell​ @thetoddanderson​ @coffeelovinggayidiot​ @erniediangelo​ @user-with-a-name​ @omglord1​ @limp-wrist​ @do-gay-dont-be-crime​ @moobrvoobl-moobmoob-oobmpoobroom​ @bisexual-apocalypse​ @rosadiaz-givesme-bipanic​ @petrichornmoreee​ @whythefuckdoiexist​ @palindrome-k​ @13-taylor-swift​

Another amazing chapter, I L O V E this series, thank you for writing so skillfully 🥰🌻

The Last Chthonian

Bucky x Reader, Sam x Reader, Zemo x Reader

Part 10

A/N: I can’t believe I’m already on part 10 for this series and to be honest it’s fun to write. And in all seriousness, the tumblr mobile app needs to allow you to put a read more link. But anyways love you all and let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! Mwah! 🖤🖤🖤

Summary: Imagine being Hekate, the Greek goddess of magic and witchcraft, the night and the moon, doorways and crossroads, creatures of the night, and ghosts and necromancy. You stumbled upon Earth many centuries ago and since then have resided on the foreign planet. During the recent years you created an alias for yourself to hide your true identity and after the war against Thanos you chose to live out your days in the Scottish countryside.

Warnings: language, some violence, and blood

“Im sorry, did you just say Madripoor?” You blinked at Zemo, dreading the destination ahead of you.

“What’s up with Madripoor? You talk about it like it’s Skull Island.” Sam questioned, looking between you and Zemo.

“Imagine Mos Eisley from Tatooine but without the aliens and blasters.” You tried to make an analogy. “In other words, a shithole. And to be honest, I’d rather be in Mos Eisley.”

“It’s an island nation in the Indonesian archipelago. It was a pirate sanctuary back in the 1800s.” Bucky explained to Sam.

“It’s kept its lawless ways.” Zemo added before turning to James. “But we cannot exactly walk in as ourselves. James, you will have to become someone you claim is gone.”

You had a feeling Zemo would suggest all of you going in with different identities, and being the only woman in the group, you already had a wild guess you weren’t going to be ecstatic about yours. You looked to Bucky with a frown on your lips. You knew what Zemo had meant towards him, and you didn’t know how it would affect him to transition back into the person he tried so hard to deviate from. Bucky saw the sympathetic smile you gave him, and he returned it with a look that reassured you that he would be fine.

“Y/n.” Zemo now spoke to you, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “I’m sure you are aware of the conditions.”

“Zemo if you...” Bucky trailed off as he glared at him, silently warning him to watch what he says next.

Sam and Bucky kept their eyes on Zemo, waiting to hear what his suggested persona for you was and ready to beat his ass if he dared to suggest something that would be demeaning to you.

“No way in the pits of Tartarus. I am not going in as an escort.” You voiced with a clenched jaw. “And if it’s eye candy you need, you have Sam.”

Sam gave you a surprised look from your comment, flattered to have you recommend him to be the designated eye candy before going back to the topic at hand. “Hell no Zemo. You’re not having y/n pretend to be an escort.”

“I’m afraid Sam is already going as someone.” Zemo sat back with his hands folded in his lap. “And don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on having you go as an escort, it isn’t befitting of a baron like me. Plus, I figured it would be uncomfortable for you, so I was going to suggest you act as my fiancé, if you are willing of course.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering on the subject. You were a bit relieved in all honesty. But to pretend to be Zemo’s fiancé and be in close and almost physical proximities with him?

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to y/n.” Sam uttered to you.

“I’ll do it.” You confirmed.

“Are you sure?” Zemo asked you again, making sure you were comfortable with acting the part.

“I thought Zemo might step out of line with this one, but we don’t want you to do something that will make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m sure. I’ve had to do things I wasn’t comfortable with plenty of times in the past.”

Once you had all landed, Zemo decided to stop by a place so that you all may get dressed. You had already packed a dress and a pair of heels with you just in case for situations like these, since this wasn’t the first time you had to dress up for a mission. The dress you wore was a black, burned velvet silk slip-like dress with the velvet print being dark red roses. The dress wasn’t too tight to be constricting of movement and fit perfectly around around your curves. If the situation should arise that you needed to defend yourself, you needed the freedom to be able to move. Going down, the fabric flared slightly at your hips, brushing barely against the floor with your heels on. The skirt was slightly sheer from the bottom of your thighs and down with the floral velvet print, and had a slit going up your right thigh, perfect for kicking and concealing your dagger. The top torso portion of the front of your dress was a spaghetti strap cowl neckline that stopped just above the curve of your breasts, allowing for just a bit of cleavage. Your back was left bare, stopping at your mid back with thin straps that came across in a pattern. Your dress almost had a Grecian/witchy look from the way it draped over your chest and hips. It wasn’t too formal or too scandalous, it was elegant and classy, and showed just the right amount of skin where it wouldn’t be too revealing.

Even though you completely loathed and detested heels of any kinds, your heels were fairly simple, made of black velvet with straps that came across your ankles and toes. You dreaded heaving to wear them but at the same time you’d stick out like a sore thumb if you wore your docs with these. Perhaps you should’ve brought your nicer sandals, but it was too late now. You kept on your mother’s necklace and wore a set of amethyst drop earrings, throwing on a silver cuff bracelet on each wrist. Your hair was let loose to conceal your short sword that you hid on your back underneath your dress, the hilt resting right between your shoulder blades. You prayed that having your hair down would cover the scars and the sword you had on your back. But you were mostly focused about the scars, you failed to mention them to the guys about it since it was something that was hard for you to share. The only makeup you had on was some eyeshadow and mascara to darken your eyes, very little blush, and a lip tint.

The last thing to do was to put on some perfume, so you spritzed on your favorite oil based one that you had from Olympus on your pulse points. The scent was filled with incense-like scents like dragon’s blood, sage, crushed red roses, sandalwood, ghostly white musk, absinthe, almonds, and heady gardenia. It wasn’t as harsh as the common alcohol based ones, this one was more earthy and ancient, and every time you wore it, the scent lingered and heads turned. You gave yourself a once over when you were done, taking in a deep breath before heading out to join the others.

You became nervous as you saw them gathered together, talking amongst themselves as they haven’t noticed you yet. You rarely ever wore dresses these days, especially of the kind you were wearing now which left you feeling bare and exposed even though the dress wasn’t at all much revealing. So as you approached them, you couldn’t help picking at your fingers in anxiety.

The men turned at the sound of your heels clicking against the ground, and when they laid their eyes on you, they couldn’t help but gawk with their mouths parted open, as if they had seen the most beautiful creature to ever walk the earth. You chewed on the inside of your cheeks as you saw how they stared at you.

“Wow.” Sam was the first to say something. “You look like a million bucks.”

“What? Never seen a woman in a dress before?”

“No, I’ve just never seen you in a dress before.” Sam answered. “You’re always dressed like some hippie/librarian, with your bands shirts, sweaters, plaid pants and jackets.”

“Haha vary funny.”

“Also since when did you have muscles?” Sam noticed as he poked your bare arm. “And since when did you have a tattoo?” He observed the mark you had on your upper right arm, right below your shoulder. It was the mark that was given to you to signify your Olympian status and what you represented. It was about the color that henna left behind after you wiped the paste off your skin, the color of ginger and bronze. The center of your mark was a lightning bolt, which represented a child of Zeus. Below that was your symbol, the torch and the triple moons.

“Since when did you start asking so many questions? But yeah, I’ve always had muscles Sam, I was trained in combat since I was, you could say 9 years old in human years. Also, technically everyone has them, it’s what allows us to move and lift things. And that.” You pointed to your tattoo. “Is my goddess mark, not a tattoo. Every Olympian god has one and they each have their personal symbol that represents them.”

“Wait, so you’ve been trained since you were a kid?” Bucky looked at you to clarify what he heard as they all started to head out.

“Technically, everyone on Olympus starts training that young. Then, when they become of age, a tournament is held to display their skills, following a ceremony after, to celebrate their victory.” You explained as you walked beside them.

The four of you were currently walking on the bridge that led to Madripoor. You could see the city’s skyline out in the distance, the cyberpunk like buildings lighting up the night sky.

“Do you need my coat?” You heard Zemo say beside you, making you look at him.

“Sorry?”

“Do you need my coat?” He repeated himself, referring to how your arms were bare against the cool night. “I wouldn’t want you to get cold.”

You stared at him, stunned from the kind gesture as you tried to form words to say. “Oh uh.....I appreciate the gesture, but I’m fine actually. I’m not that cold.” Though you didn’t want to admit it, you actually would’ve liked to try on his coat, because in all honesty it was a damn nice coat.

“We have to fix this.” You heard Sam say with irritation visible in his voice. “I’m the only one who looks like a pimp.”

“Only an American would assume a fashion-forward black man looks like a pimp. You look exactly like the man you’re supposed to be playing.” Zemo mentioned as he pulled out his phone to show Sam. “The sophisticated, charming African rake named Conrad Mack, aka the Smiling Tiger.”

“He even has a bad nickname. Hell, he does look like me, though.” Sam observed the photo.

“You smell this?”

“Yeah, what is that? Acid?” Sam sniffed the air as you did the same.

“Smells rancid.” You scrunched your nose at the smell.

“Madripoor. No matter what happens, we have to stay in character. Our lives depend on it. There’s no margin for error.” Zemo instructed as a black car pulled up in front of you. “High Town’s that way. Not a bad place if you wanna visit, but Low Town’s the other way.”

“Let me guess. We don’t have any friends in High Town.” Sam remarked as he opened the door for the back seat.

“Y/n. A moment please, if you will.” Zemo uttered to you.

You stopped in your tracks, seeing Bucky and Sam stand on either side of the car doors, looking between the two of you and especially Zemo, with caution. You nodded your head at them, signaling you were fine and that they can get seated. And though they sat themselves inside the car, that didn’t stop them from keeping their eyes glued to Zemo to make sure he didn’t pull anything stupid.

“What’s the issue?” You turned to Zemo, giving him your attention.

“Since you will be portraying my fiancé, there’s a certain key element you will be needing to complete the image.” You watched as he pulled out a ring from his coat pocket, displaying it in front of you. “If I may?”

You stared at Zemo blankly before nodding your head and holding out your left hand for him. You knew this was only for a show, but you couldn’t help but stiffen as he delicately held your hand with his gloved one before slipping the ring onto your ring finger.

“There.” Hi smiled softly at you, his hand still holding yours. “Now you look the part.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, his thumb brushing against your knuckles, leaving behind a trail of warmth as he gazed down at you. Zemo swore he could have gotten lost in the violet swirls and gold flecks of your eyes forever, which now sparkled against Madripoor’s lit up skyline, the neon city and the places he’s visited not even coming close to the beauty he held before him.

You tried not to blush under his gaze as you gave him a polite smile before slipping your hand out of his. “I should probably change my eyes huh.” You remembered, changing your eyes to a normal color known to earth. “Should I hide the scar?” You asked him, referring to the one on your face.

“I think you should leave it. It suits you, and besides, you never know who might recognize you without it.”

Nodding your head at him, you headed to the car and settling in beside Bucky as Zemo followed, getting in the passenger seat in front of you. In the car ride there, you glanced down at the ring Zemo slipped on your finger, it was definitely a beautiful elegant ring, with a rose gold band and a pear cut garnet in the center that had diamonds that accented the bottom. Once you arrived in the city, you walked through the neon lit streets beside Zemo while Sam and Bucky followed behind. You loosened up your body as you went, swaying your hips slightly as you tried your best not to walk like a bodyguard and look threatening as everyone’s eyes followed the four of you strolling through the streets.

“Here we are.” Zemo announced, stopping in front of a bar before speaking to Bucky in Russian. “Ready to comply… Winter Soldier?”

As you went in, Zemo leaned in to whisper in your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck and startling you as he spoke in a hushed tone. “I want to apologize in advance, forgive me.”

You looked at him with furrowed brows to question what he meant until you felt his gloved hand slide across your back before resting on your waist, pulling you closer to his side. You noticed how his hand fumbled after brushing across your sword as he gave you a questioning look. What was that on your back? Did you really conceal a full on sword on your back underneath your dress? On your way to the bar table you saw people stare as you went through, some of them gawking in surprise at Bucky, or the winter soldier as he was now portraying, while the slimy men in the area roamed their eyes over your body hungrily. Zemo noticed your uneasiness from the way your muscles tensed, though your face didn’t show a sign of it, and glared at the men who dared to lay their eyes on you, only pulling you closer to him to prove that you were with him while Bucky and Sam noticed this as well and positioned themselves where you were blocked from the view of your peers, allowing you to breathe a little better as you approached the bar.

“Hello, gentlemen.” The bartender greeted you all. “Wasn’t expecting you, Smiling Tiger.”

“His plans changed.” Zemo answered for him. “We have business to do with Selby.”

“The usual?”

Sam nodded his head.

“And for the lady?”

“Um Something fruity.” You answered with a flirtatious smile, silently hoping they had something like that on the menu and that you hadn’t blown their cover by ordering the wrong drink.

The bartender handed you what looked to be a pineapple martini and you internally thanked the gods for your sheer bit of luck, taking the drink and thanking the bartender with another smile. You watched as he went to work on Sam’s drink, pulling out of a jar what definitely was a snake. You gulped, your stomach feeling nauseous as you saw the bartender cut open the dead snake, taking out its guts and throwing it in the shot glass. You were mortified to say the least, snakes were one of your symbols and you had owned plenty of the gentle little creatures. You shot Sam a sympathetic look once you saw his expression.

“Cheers.” Zemo held up his glass while Sam stared at his before gathering the courage to drink it all in one go. If Sam wasn’t going to throw up, you were going to do it for him.

While your eyes were trained on Sam’s expression, you felt someone breathe over your neck before feeling a clammy hand graze across your ass.

“Hey baby-“

Your eyes widened before you grabbed the wrist of the man behind you in one quick motion, twisting his arm to an unnatural position as you yanked it away from your body, causing the sleazy looking individual let out a yelp of pain. You would’ve crushed his wrist like crumpled paper if Zemo hadn’t put a cautionary hand on your arm as he whispered to you. “Careful now.”

You let go of the man’s wrist before shoving him aside like a pile of garbage. If their identity wasn’t at risk of being revealed, Zemo, Sam, and Bucky would have gone over there and beat the guy up after you were done with him.

“I got word from high. You ain’t welcome here.” You watched from behind Zemo as a bearded man approached him.

“I have no business with the Power Broker, but if he insists, he can either come and talk to me…” Zemo gestured towards Bucky.

“New haircut?”

“Or bring Selby for a chat.”

The man glanced between Zemo and Bucky before leaving.

“A power broker? Really?” Sam turned to Zemo.

“Every kingdom needs its king. Let’s just pray we stay under his radar.”

“Do you know him?” You asked.

“Only by reputation. In Madripoor he is judge, jury, and executioner.”

Another man was approaching in your direction, most likely to kick you all out or worse, and after following your gaze, Zemo turned to Bucky, speaking to him in Russian just as the man laid a hand on his shoulder. “Winter Soldier. Attack.”

You stood back, watching as Bucky grabbed the dude’s arm and twisted it back. You refrained yourself from intervening as Bucky took down the men that fought against him.

“Didn’t take much for him to fall back into form.” Zemo commented to you and Sam.

Bucky slammed one of the men down on the counter. And as you heard the clicking of guns being loaded, your defensive mode nearly kicked in as you almost reached for your sword before Zemo stopped you.

“Stay in character or the whole bar turns on us.” Zemo whispered to you both before turning to Bucky and speaking in Russian again. “Well done soldier.”

You let your arm drop back down to your side, not a single change in your expression as you eyed everyone around you.

“Selby will see you now.” The bartender spoke up after getting off the phone.

Zemo gave him a thanks, nodding you over and holding out his hand for you to take as you went to his side again, Bucky and Sam following after you. You went through a back door, going down a dark corridor with Zemo’s hand on your back as he guided you through.

“You should know, Baron. People don’t just come into my bar and make demands.” You heard a woman’s voice speak, turning your head to see an older woman in a suit with short white hair lounging back on the coach with her security around her.

“Not a demand. An offer.” Zemo sat down on the couch before waving you over when he saw you standing near Sam. “Come sit schatzi.”

You straightened up, plastering a smile on your face as you went over to him. Selby’s eyes followed you curiously as you placed your hand in his, your eyes rapidly moving in nervousness for what area would be the most appropriate area to sit. Were you......were you supposed to sit on his lap? Is that how couples work? No, that would be inappropriate. Before things got awkward, you quickly plopped down on the empty spot next to him, crossing over your leg in a way so that it draped over his, leaving your thigh completely exposed from the slit in your dress, save for the dagger that still remained hidden. Sam and Bucky widened their eyes at what you just did, while Zemo stiffened at this sudden movement from you as you also draped one arm around his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him. Were you even doing this right?

“A lot has changed since you were here last.” Selby observed the two of you before her eyes landed on your ring. “Who’s this pretty little thing?”

“This.” Zemo looked at you with a loving look, throwing an arm around your waist to draw circles on your bare back, while his other hand rested on your thigh, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps on your skin as you felt shivers go down your spine. “Is my fiancé. Gorgeous isn’t she?”

How long has it been since you were this close and personal to someone? The last you could remember, women still wore corsets and people still rode carriages. You felt your body heat up from being this close to him, and from the way he stroked your back. How was a mortal man able to leave you feeling like this? If he was able to send shivers down your spine with the mere touch on your back with his gloved hand, you wondered how it would feel to have his bare hands on you, just skin to skin. And if you were being honest, you never really were a fan of cologne but his smelled of a deeper earthy tones with hints of musk, and you were surprised and almost ashamed to say you liked how he smelled. You returned the same loving look to Zemo, trying to make it as believable as possible as you ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his head before placing a kiss on his jaw close to his ear. Sam and Bucky couldn’t believe their eyes at the scene before them, the same you who preferred to be a hermit and didn’t go on dates because it involved human interaction, was cuddling up to none other than Helmut Zemo himself. Zemo’s breath faltered a bit from from your touch as he swallowed the lump in his throat, struggling not to break character. Being this close to you, he was able to get a whiff of your perfume and my goodness, Zemo felt as if he could drown in your scent, you smelled like the heavens, not overbearingly sweet, but dark and luxurious and even seductive. Is this what vampires and sirens smelled like when they lured people to their deaths? You raised a brow at Zemo, your heightened senses were picking up on his breathing patterns and heartbeat. Was he getting nervous?

“Extremely.” Selby commented, smirking at the two of you before roaming her eyes over your body. You could feel her taking you in but you kept your eyes trained on the side of Zemo’s face. “Where did you pick this one up? She looks like a fighter.”

“As they say, why not get a woman who can do both. She was part of the Sokovian armed forces, I met her through there.”

“By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?” Selby added after finally taking her eyes off you.

“People like us always find a way, don’t we? I’m sure you’ve already figured out what I’m here for.”

“You’re taller than I’d heard, Smiling Tiger.” Selby turned to Sam with a flirtatious grin, using her hand in a claw like manner as she let out a purr. “What’s the offer?”

“Tell us what you know about the super-soldier serum.” Zemo got up off the couch, going over to Bucky and holding his chin between his fingers. “And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want.”

“Now that’s the Zemo I remember. I’m glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right. The super-soldier serum is here in Madripoor. Dr. Wilfred Nagel is the man you wanna thank. Or… condemn, depending on what side of this you’re on. The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn’t go as planned.”

“Is Nagel still in Madripoor?”

“Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you, Baron. And before you get all cute, don’t think you can find Nagel without me. But.....” She turned you with a sly smile which made your insides turn. “Throw her in with the package and you have yourself a deal.”

Zemo, Sam, and Bucky turned to look at you with dread upon hearing her words. This wasn’t at all part of the plan.

“No, no no. That wasn’t the deal.” Zemo stepped over to where you sat, blocking you from her. “She’s not for sale.”

“Why not?” Selby raised her brow at Zemo. “I’m pretty sure a man like you could pick up someone else to be your plaything or fiancé or whatever. I like this one in particular.” She turned to you again.

“That’s not-“ Zemo started before he was cut off by Sam’s cellphone vibrating.

You breath was caught in your throat and it felt as if the room had dropped in temperature. You could feel the tension floating around the air as everyone’s eyes were trained on Sam now, making you sit up straight and uncross your legs so that they were planted firmly on the ground. Your hand rested on your thigh just above where the hilt of your dagger was as your eyes darted around the room, watching each and every person like a hawk about to swoop down on its prey. You had a feeling this wasn’t going to end well.

Tag List: @girl-obsessed-with-things @aerynchromie @sunshinepower17 @viviace @kakimakiloh @thebivirgin @gambitsqueen @spookycereal-s @lulu-yuming @mochminnie @gabitanaka47 @s00nhi @vanteguccir @tomhollandsslilslut @dracoxxyoflam @suchababie @uhhhcrypticbastard @on-my-way-to-erebor @thewinterrbucky @mylifeispainandiloveit @fillechatoyante @padmoonyfeorge @montypythonsholysnail