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buckybarnesb-tch · 1 month

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Aemond T. Yandere A-Z

(For the multiple people who asked for a Yandere Alphabet for our favorite little War Criminal)

A stands for AFFECTION: how would they show affection?

•Aemond is a gift giver to the extreme

•From the moment you found out about your betrothal to your Uncle, you had been receiving gorgeous dresses, fantastic shoes and jewelry you could never have imagined wearing. All of the jewelry you were gifted containing large sapphires in the necklaces or earrings, staking the One Eyed Princes claim on you

B stands for BLOODY: how bloody are they willing to get for their object of obsession?

•He loves getting bloody on a normal occasion so getting bloody for you would be a joy for Aemond

•He would slaughter any and all men who dared even think they had a chance with his girl and he even killed a few women who thought it their place to ‘warn you’ about what he’s like and insist you needed to get out of the marriage proposal, even though you all knew that was impossible

C stands for CRUELTY: would they ever hurt their object of obsession?

•Aemond would avoid harming you as much as possible, he never liked to see pain on your face or bruises on your perfect porcelain skin but if you thought you were going to defy him then he needed to teach you a lesson

•Normally locking you in your rooms was enough after two days of isolation and eating all of your meals alone

•Only once did Aemond ever really hurt you and it was only after you had pushed him too far, something even you admitted he couldn’t ignore in public

D stands for DARLING: would they cross their object of obsession’s limits?

•Aemond is as patient as he can be with you but if you give him no other choice, then yes, he absolutely will

E stands for EXPOSED: how much do they expose their own feelings to their object of obsession?

•Aemond talks to you about almost everything

•One of your jobs as his wife is to listen to him and you quickly find out you’re the only person that he really tells about how he feels about everything from his mother to his brother to even his father

•He is also very open in how he feels about you, making it clear from the moment you are betrothed that you are his and he is completely obsessed with you loves you dearly

F stands for FIGHT: how would they react to their object of obsession fighting back?

•Aemond absolutely thinks it’s funny…for about 5 minutes

•You are his wife and him your husband, you will behave as a lady is expected to behave within the confines of her marriage so ‘fighting back’ isn’t really much of an option

G stands for GAME: do they think this is just a game?

•You are Aemond’s everything, this is no game

•Anyone who thinks it is will get a painful wake up call sooner than they think

H stands for HELL: what would be their object of obsession’s worst experience with them?

•Your worst experience would be the one time you made the mistake of refusing his demands in front of the small council

•Aemond didn’t want to harm you, he was trying quite hard to get you used to being his wife and doing your duties/behaving how he expected you to but you didn’t give him much of an option before you felt his hand strike your face so painfully you briefly thought he had broken your jaw

•He apologized for hitting you so hard later in the privacy of your rooms but informed you that you shouldn’t have said anything against him in front of anyone especially the small council and even you knew how badly you had messed up as soon as the words left your mouth

I stands for IDEAL: what are their plans for their object of obsession?

•Aemond’s plan is impregnating you

•That has been his plan since the moment he insisted his mother ensure you were going to be his wife

J stands for JEALOUSY: how they react when jealous? Do they get jealous?

•When Aemond is jealous someone is going to die, he is a violent man when he thinks another man is getting close to his wife and he will often publicly punish any man who he thinks is looking at his Princess wrong

•You learned very quickly to talk to other men as little as possible

•However you also learned that if you wanted a man dead you had a sure fire way to make it happen

K stands for KINDNESS: how they act around their object of obsession?

•When you and Aemond are alone he is much different than he is in public

•Aemond is usually a sweet, gentle person with you when he isn’t in a bad mood or you’re not being difficult

•Even when in public he is gentler with you than most men are with their wives, he’s just far more quiet and somber

L stands for LOVE LETTER: how would they approach their object of obsession?

•He made sure his mother knew he would only accept you as his wife, and that if Rhaenyra made the mistake of trying to marry you to anyone else he would steal you away before any wedding could take place and burn the Lords house to the ground, ally of the Hightowers or not

•Aemond was quite sweet to you, he always had been when you were children however he was a proper gentleman now and he ensured you were as happy as you could be…obsessively so

M stands for MASK: how different are their public persona from their true selves?

•He is quiet for the most part in public, and if he must say something it is usually a snarky comment or a backhanded insult

•With you he is very attentive and often needy for your attention which is actually what makes you fall for him in the end, loving his desperation for you

N stands for NAUGHTY: how would they punish their object of obsession?

•Aemond locks you in your chambers until you can’t stand being alone anymore and admit you were wrong for whatever, you never really need anything more than that

O stands for OPPRESSION: how many rights would they take from their object of obsession?

•Rights?

•What are rights?

•You are Aemond’s wife. You will do what is expected of a highborn lady wife or be punished. Even so, Aemond tries to make you as happy as he can and doesn’t order you about as much as he could

P stands for PATIENCE: how patient are they with their object of obsession?

•Aemond tries his best to be very patient and to his credit he does very well until you push too hard

•Compared to other men and even other Targaryen men, he is quite patient with you, wanting you to actually learn lessons and want to be a good wife for him in the end

Q stands for QUIT: if their object of obsession died or escaped, would they ever be able to move on?

Died: He would be a complete basket case without you and he would refuse to remarry for any reason what so ever

Escaped: He would go on a rampage until he got you back. No one would be safe until he found you and had you back in his arms

R stands for REGRET: would they ever regret harming their object of obsession? Would they ever let them go?

•Aemond will Never let you go

•He would only ever regret how hard he slapped you once in a small council meeting, he hated how afraid of him you were in that moment

S stands for STIGMA: what made their yandere tendencies bloom?

•You had always been the only one in the family who was kind to Aemond, being his best friend as kids

•He knew you would be his wife from the moment you first stuck up for him during the pig prank to your brothers and uncle, that was the day he fell completely in love with you

•He decided that night that he would do whatever he needed to do in order to make you his wife, even though he knew his mother would want to marry him to another house and that Rhaenyra would never want you to be with him

T stands for TEARS: how would they react to their object of obsession crying/breaking?

•Anger

•Your tears brings out a rage in Aemond that is not often seen and he will slaughter whoever has made you so upset

•If he were the one to upset you however, he wouldn’t really know how to fix that. He would typically hold you until you either calmed down or cried yourself out and then get you a gift as an apology since “apologizing” isn’t really something he knows how to do very well

U stands for UNIQUE: something different they would do compared to others yanderes.

•In the beginning of your relationship, before the wedding was set and you were staying as far from him as you could, Aemond came up with a plan to make you dependent on him and feel safe with him to ensure you wouldn’t try and run back home to Rhaenyra and Daemon (who was the only man you seemed to trust which enraged him to no end)

•Aemond had Criston Cole hire a man to sneak into the castle with the intent to kill you. He planed it out meticulously to ensure you were never in any real danger though you wouldn’t know that

•The man entered your chambers as you were getting ready to sleep and you shrieked, backing towards the window, pleading with him not to harm you and telling him that he could leave and you would forget he was ever there. Suddenly your door flew open and Aemond ran in, he was on the man before you could blink, beating his head in as he shouted about how he would never let anyone harm his wife

•It was that night that you really began giving Aemond the chance to win your love, realizing that you were truly safe with him. The entire plot was a secret that Aemond would take to his grave

V stands for VICE: what weakness their object of obsession could use against them?

•His jealousy, 100%

•If you want someone, anyone dead, all you need to do is make it seem like they’ve been looking at you for more than a second too long, it gives you a feeling of absolute power and you love it

W stands for WIT’S END: would they hurt their object of obsession?

•Aemond would never hurt you in any kind of serious way

•If he has to he will lock you in your chambers for the rest of your life, but he won’t do you serious harm

X stands for XOANON: would they worship their object of obsession?

•He definitely has a way of making you feel like a Goddess

•Especially when you’re pregnant as he worships the ground you walk on. He is constantly getting you whatever food you’re craving, fluffing your pillows, rubbing your sore feet, anything to make his precious Princess feel better while she is carrying his baby inside of her

•You are the most precious thing in the whole world to him and even when he is upset with you Aemond never lets you forget it

Y stands for YEARN: how long would they pine after their object of obsession before they snap?

•Aemond has always loved you, and always had a bit of a crush on you however he has been head over heels since he was 10

•He keeps it together and hidden until he is 16 and he demands you as his bride upon hearing that Rhaenyra was considering marriage proposals for you, the idea of you being married off to someone else sending him over the edge

Z stands for ZENITH: would they ever break their object of obsession?

•Aemond doesn’t want you broken, he wants you to be his compliant little Princess and that’s exactly what you are

•You had always known what was expected of you as a women and a wife in a marriage from the time that you were a little girl (though you never expected to be married to your Uncle) but Aemond ensured that you would be exactly what he always wanted in a wife and you are absolutely Perfect to him

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

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sitp-recs · 28 days

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Hullo! I was wondering if you have any good recs for extremely magically inclined Draco or Harry? Or both? Like they exude badass, and they are in awe of each other. Maybe with a hint of morally grayness? I've ran through quite a few tags of the like and have deeply enjoyed them and was wondering if you had a few goodies.

Hi anon! I definitely got a few recs for you, some with morally gray characters as a treat 🙌

Powerful Harry:

Under Pressure by VivacissimoVoce (M, 21k)

Harry Potter has quit magic and left the wizarding world. Draco, a top-notch Tracker, has been hired to find him and save his life.

And One To Play by @tackytigerfic (E, 21k)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter are the best team in the Auror Department, even when they're driving Gawain Robards up the wall. When Malfoy is injured on a mission, it causes Harry's magic to go haywire. Meanwhile, a mysterious criminal is draining people's magical cores and turning them into Squibs.

If an Injury Is to Be Inflicted by @shealwaysreads (E, 45k)

Harry Potter disappeared a year after the Battle of Hogwarts, and with him went all hope for true change in magical Britain. Three years later, Draco indulges himself and attends his first Dog Fight—the infamous underground fights with no rules, no referee, and no points system bar blood on the floor. The game was simple: you win, or you die.

REVOLVEVLOVER by @firethesound and @lol-zeitgeistic (E, 46k)

The work Harry does is justifiable. It’s justice. He works for his country, and his country is a republic—the magical side, anyway. It’s not laudable work, it’s not work he’s proud of, but it’s necessary work. Harry has always taken the necessary jobs that no one else has the stomach for. It’s just that he’s never deciphered a kill sheet and seen Draco Malfoy’s name on it.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

Powerful Draco:

check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous by @lqtraintracks (E, 8k)

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

you look so fine by michi_thekiller (E, 16k)

In which Draco is a Veela and Harry is his mate. Dark!Humor or Crack!Horror, you decide.

The Foxing Ring by @vukovich (E, 24k)

Harry's got no magic, one good ear, no great dating prospects, and a nice little wand workshop. Draco's got too much magic, a history of biting off ears, no great dating prospects, and a growing fondness for wandmakers. And a very fetching tail.

A Pocket Full of Stones by @amywaterwings (E, 68k)

A curse is spreading through the wizarding world, erasing memories of the war. Harry Potter is on the case! Where Draco is the DMLE’s most wanted dark wizard and Harry is the private investigator tasked with bringing him in. It goes as well as one might expect.

Threshold by @kbrick (E, 126k)

Unspeakable Draco Malfoy finally gets his chance to consult with the Auror Department when a series of mysterious doors covered in runic symbols appear all across the country, only to fade away minutes later. Draco’s eager to help solve the mystery of the doors until he’s partnered with Harry Potter, who still treats him like an enemy.

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (E, 150k)

Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #powerful Harry #powerful draco #morally grey characters

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inhuman-obey-me · 10 months

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Diavolo & The Loyalty Thing

Alrighty everyone, we're going to be blunt here -- if there is one character misunderstanding in this fandom that has always pissed us off (jk there are many actually), it is how people interpret Diavolo's deal with Lucifer after the war.

We know a lot of y'all don't like him because of that agreement. We know a lot of you think that Lucifer is magically bound to Diavolo's will because of it, as with a pact, and is unable to defy him. We know that many of you dislike Diavolo because you think he was taking advantage of Lucifer in that scene.

Well, the devs have made it plain time and time again and even more so in Nightbringer: that is not the case.

You are wrong, and here's why. (Or, to put it more nicely, please let us convince you otherwise.)

(spoilers including Nightbringer Lesson 17 below the cut)

Let's start by reviewing the situation from Lucifer's side:

Lucifer, a guest to the Devildom many times before in a diplomatic coordination context, has just led, and subsequently lost, a civil war in the Celestial Realm. The catalyst that pushed him to start this war was the impending punishment declared against his sister, Lilith. Seeing that sister get fatally wounded in said war, he flies down after her falling body, where both of them land in the Devildom.

Diavolo then shows up with Barbatos, presumably because they, you know, saw two war-wounded angels falling from the sky into his domain. Lucifer turns to Diavolo and starts shouting that he knows the prince has the power to save his sister -- and pleads with him to do exactly that.

Diavolo makes a point of telling Lucifer that it may not be in the way he expects or wants, but he agrees to do it on the condition that Lucifer swears loyalty to him. Barbatos attempts to interject against the idea, to which Diavolo responds that he's aware already that this is a big risk for him. Lucifer, upon realizing that he is becoming a demon himself as a consequence of the war, agrees to Diavolo's terms.

(OG Scene on left, Nightbringer scene on right)

Diavolo then takes Lilith before she dies and reincarnates her as a human. This then remains a secret between the three of them from that moment all the way until the events of OG Lesson 15, when Lucifer finally confesses the whole thing to his brothers in the first timeline, and then OG Lesson 16, when MC reveals it (in the second timeline).

So to recap: Lucifer started a war with Lilith's punishment as the catalyst, lost, showed up in the Devildom, and then demanded the prince of that realm save his sister from essentially the same punishment he was fighting against in the first place.

To be clear about Diavolo and Lucifer's relationship at this point, they had been communicating about diplomatic affairs, as a governmental head and a top representative respectively. They are friendly, but not close friends yet. They are not allies in this war. Diavolo is not involved at all in the Great Celestial War or the situation with Lilith. And with this rebellion, Lucifer no longer holds that diplomatic status -- in fact, as mentioned in Nightbringer Lesson 8, the brothers were essentially war criminals in the eyes of the Celestial Realm, with Lucifer as the leader.

Moreover, Diavolo's goal as prince is that he wants to establish peace and cooperation between the Devildom and the Celestial Realm. These two realms were enemies for the vast majority of history, and although there is a nonaggression agreement between them currently, it's a tense sort of truce, not true peace.

Helping Lucifer defy the Celestial Realm is in direct opposition to that goal. Taking in the brothers at all is pretty risky in terms of that goal, as Barbatos makes clear above, but there's at least a sort of implication that it is the Demon Prince's business what to do with new demons. Interfering in the Celestial Realm's punishment of one of its angels though? Well, Asmodeus and Leviathan understand right away when they learned the truth from Lucifer back in OG Lesson 15.

There was a very real risk of pissing off the Celestial Realm that he had to calculate against here, and it's a risk that threatens not only him but everything that matters to him most -- his realm, which is a responsibility he takes very seriously, and his goals, for peace between the realms.

And then there's Diavolo's own precarious political situation.

Though Nightbringer retcons this a bit with Diavolo's father falling into a slumber and leaving the realm to Diavolo more suddenly, the original OM actually established that Diavolo was in charge before the fall, with the Demon King going off to sleep shortly after giving the brothers' their titles. And Nightbringer has shown that his position as the de facto leader of the realm is very much in question.

The nobles of the House of Lords are very blatantly unhappy about Diavolo and his goals, especially in regards to the now-fallen angels. Really, the whole realm doesn't really approve of angels -- they've made a clear point of it in NB, and even well into OG's main story, approval ratings for the exchange program are mentioned as being better but still pretty low, with various references to demons threatening to eat the angels.

But more to the point, the House of Lords has power over Diavolo. Though he is the rightful heir to the throne in terms of birth, they are able to challenge that right, and they even choose when he will be allowed to ascend to the throne -- something which, even in the distant future of OG, they still have apparently never allowed him to do, seeing as he's still not the king even after all this time. And just between his goals for peace and his taking in the fallen angels, they already maneuvered to punish him with suddenly demanding he go through the Kingsblood Crucible to potentially prevent him from ever becoming king. And as Diavolo says, even if he passes, they could still decide against appointing him king.

Now imagine if they found out that he risked the safety of the entire realm to help save a dying angel. If they knew that, they probably wouldn't stop at just challenging his fitness to rule.

So, to be clear, when Lucifer showed up with Lilith, yelling at Diavolo to save her? Diavolo was NOT free to just do whatever he pleases. When he said he's taking a big risk by helping Lilith, he really was. There were so many reasons why he shouldn't, and no real reason why he should -- but Lucifer was begging him to do it anyway. So, he needed something in return. Some kind of reassurance, some kind of protection in the potential consequences.

And there certainly are consequences for helping Lucifer. Even with the Lilith deal being a secret, there are consequences. We saw that already with the House of Lords' increased animosity -- as said above, he was nearly removed from power over it. And as for the Celestial Realm?

Well, that brings us to the end of Nightbringer Lesson 17, where Raphael comes bearing a message from the Celestial Realm -- or, more aptly, a threat.

(We could go into a whole thing about why the Celestial Realm is threatening this but that's for another time)

So, here we are, at the very dangerous crossroads that Diavolo finds himself at now in Nightbringer -- the Celestial Realm coming into his domain with blatant threats of war, while the nobles of his own realm just tried to remove him from power. Threats that are being made against him over helping Lucifer and the brothers. And that's without any of them knowing about Lilith, which would only make all sides even angrier.

You know what he could really use, amidst all those threats? An ally. Someone he could depend on to have his back. Someone he could rely on to be unequivocally on his side, in that very precarious balance of powers.

So that's what he asked for -- loyalty. For all that he was putting on the line for Lucifer's request, he asked for Lucifer to stand by him in turn. What he asked was simply this: "Don't stab me in the back. Don't leave me to deal with the consequences alone. If I'm going to help you, promise me you will be there for me too."

P.S. Lucifer himself has said he agrees with Diavolo's goals. Talking with Diavolo about the peace and cooperation plan was a huge part of why he started having doubts about the Celestial Realm! He was not being asked to do anything he disagreed with; Diavolo knew Lucifer feels the same about his goals as he does. Lucifer takes the loyalty thing too far in OG Season 1, but it was never the only reason for him supporting Diavolo!

#meant to post this right after lesson 17 and here we are moments before lesson 18 drops loool #anyway yes one of our biggest pet peeves #we'll go into more about the celestial realm and why they're doing this in another post probably #they're another thing we want to yell about because THEY SUCK ACTUALLY #obey me #obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #omnb #obey me nightbringer spoilers #obey me diavolo #obey me lucifer #om! diavolo #om! lucifer #obey me analysis

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therenlover · 8 months

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Always For A Second (Usually At The Start) - A Helmut Zemo x Reader fic

"And when I imagine life when it's mine / I can try to picture faceless folk to love a thousand times / But always for a second, and usually at the start / You're in the image posing with a cradled beating heart" - Katie Gregson MacLeod, i'm worried it will always be you

Synopsis: Leaving Helmut for good had been the biggest, most final choice you'd ever had to make. Two years later, he's in your living room again. This time, though, things are different.

Tags: Explicit Smut (+18), Exes, Getting Back Together, Enemies to Lovers to Exes to Lovers, Enthusiastic Consent, Switch!Zemo, Oral (Fem Receiving), Service Top!Zemo, Aftercare, Bucky is Mentioned Too Much

Rating: E (+18) Minors DNI

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 8,600~

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

“I didn’t expect you to come crawling back so soon, schatz,”

The restaurant was crowded enough that nobody heard Helmut’s words, curt and cloying and so fucking familiar. Still, my face heated. It always would for him, no matter how much my common sense protested by body’s reactions. How dare he be so damn effective at getting under my skin?

Some over-expensive brown liquor sloshed against the rim of the glass in my hand as I lifted it less than gracefully from the table, dribbling down the edge of my mouth as I guided it to my lips and drank deeply. “For one, two years isn’t soon,” I started, swallowing. “Two, you’re the asshole who showed up in my apartment like a robber, which makes you the one who came crawling back. I was just nice enough to let you take me for a free meal to get you the hell out. Three,” I set the glass down sharply, “don’t call me that. We’re not friends. We’re not anything. I still haven’t forgiven you,”

“Apologies,”

He didn’t mean it.

“Still, it’s too soon to expect any sort of kindness from you,” he continued, “If I recall correctly, you said you’d rather die than suffer through another night with me for the rest of eternity. I believe an eternity has yet to pass… and yet, here we are,”

His matter of fact tone left little up for debate, unless I wanted to reach for my fork and maim his smug face. Instead, I bit my tongue and swallowed another mouthful of whatever I was drinking.

For once I was glad to be surrounded by the kind of noisy, faceless jumble of humanity that usually made my skin crawl. F. Scott Fitzgerald was on to something with his theories on large crowds and intimacy; there was no better place for two war criminals to meet than the corner booth of a hazy restaurant, lounging and drinking, covered by the blanket of sweet anonymity. Anyone who glanced our way would see two normal human beings sharing a meal in peaceable silence, sharing sparse conversation between bites of this and that.

They would see lovers.

The thought left a lump in my throat.

Maybe I looked uncomfortable enough that they would presume, correctly, that we were ex-lovers. I wasn’t hopeful about it, though.

Helmut noticed, of course, but I knew he would. He had always had an almost supernatural sense for these things, like he could tune into my emotional radio on a frequency I didn’t even fully know myself. Enemy or ally or… otherwise, it was a constant to be seen through and picked apart like carrion. An appetizer for the fights to come. Thankfully, though, he chose to have mercy on me this time in a rare show of respect. Instead of wrapping his lips around another snide comment- even though I could tell it was burning a bitter hole into the tip of his tongue behind his clenched teeth- he chose to pick up a ring of calamari from the plate between us. He held it up to examine the crust in the dim lamplight before placing it delicately against his lips, pulling it from the fork in one bite. Still, he couldn’t be too gracious. Helmut held eye contact as he went.

I could only managed a disgusted sigh but found myself mirrored as his teeth sunk into the squid and his brow furrowed.

“Bad?” I asked.

He chewed for a good while before managing to swallow the offending clump down, gagging all the way. “Despite my recent diet, that might be the worst thing I’ve eaten in a long while,”

A laugh escaped me before I even knew it was there. “You managed to pick a restaurant where our appetizer is worse than prison food? Serves you right for ordering seafood in the midwest,”

“I suppose it does.” He nudged the plate towards me with a growing smirk, “See for yourself. I’d hate to see it wasted, and as you said, it is ours. I can’t be expected to finish it alone,”

As if under the spell of his charisma all over again, I followed his instructions without a second thought. It was just as bad as I anticipated.

Things were off to a bad start from the moment the tines of my fork hit the batter. The breading seemed to squelch under the pressure, sagging and giving way into meat that was somehow both rubbery and gelatinous, if that was even possible, and if the texture seemed bad outside of my mouth it was even worse inside. Somewhere between its fishy tang and the overly salted batter, there was a bitter, almost sour note that seemed to permeate further with every chew. I spit the macerated glob into my napkin before even attempting to swallow down the remaining spit.

Across the table, Zemo grinned at my misfortune. “Let’s hope our entrees are less offensive to our palettes,”

“Fuck off,” I muttered, lips turning up at the edges.

“You can curse all you want at my poor choice of venue, but I can tell you’re glad you’re the one who ordered the pasta instead of the steak,”

I went for my glass again, letting the liquor with a name I couldn’t pronounce burn all the way down my throat and into my chest. “I hate that you’re always right, Helmut. Can’t you be wrong, just once? Leave some correctness for the rest of us,”

Maybe it was the lighting, soft and amber against the dark wood of the table to mask the bloody steaks that would sit below, or maybe it was the music, something old and swinging that I couldn’t quite put my finger on but knew from the radio in my grandmother’s car as a child, or maybe, just maybe, it was the crows feet that popped up around Helmut’s eyes when he smiled that hadn’t been quite so prominent the last time I’d seen him, but no matter the cause, the solid iron wall I had put up around my heart when I walked out of the Baron’s life those two year sago seemed to soften. Weakened, somehow. It was like someone took a blowtorch right to the center of my defenses. Something in me screamed that they had never been all that strong to begin with.

I only noticed I’d been staring when he looked away, clearing his throat and wiping his thin mouth with the napkin from his lap.

There went my hand. Helmut, 1. Me, 0… Well, 1, if leaving him those years ago counted for anything, and I refused to believe that it hadn’t. That the blow to his ego hadn’t given me at least a slight upper hand compared to the naive girl I had been in comparison when I first met him. There had been so much good in the world then.

The silence dragged on as if the structural flaws of my guarded heart could patch themselves up with the defenses created from just a few silent moments between us. That’s all it would take for me to remember all the reasons this would never work: all the pain, the sleepless nights, the snide comments that turned into biting replies that grew into massive, earth-shattering fights that exploded into days or weeks or months living alone in a house with him. One by one, the memories flooded back, reminding me exactly why it had taken me almost two years to find enough peace within myself that I wouldn’t decide to shoot the man in front of me on sight. My heart hardened by the second.

“I saw your concert,”

I was simultaneously thawed and frozen all over again. “How did you-“

“James mentioned it,”

“You still talk to Bucky?”

“Here and there,”

The conversation lapsed into silence.

He had… been there? I didn’t even bother to think about the talk I’d have to have with Bucky about my privacy, too focused on the more important matter at hand.

The venue was grungy, a basement bar with a small stage serving the communities aspiring comedians and desperate punk-rock garage dwellers just waiting for their big break. I had barely had the guts to pay the booking fee, though. It was just me, a piano, and my guitar for an hour and a half set of mostly cover songs that had gone better than I’d expected, but hadn’t been anything crazy. The crowd was appreciative and respectful. Several people had left tips, even more giving me a congratulatory clap on the back as I left the building that night, promising to “stream my EP” whenever I released it, despite the fact that I had no plans to do any such thing. Still, I couldn’t imagine that I hadn’t seen his face in the crowd. I couldn’t name what I was feeling as I imagined it; visualized his face on the other side of the smoky room, leaned against the bar with his dark eyes catching hold of mine…

“You came and you didn’t say anything? Not even a hello?”

Helmut laughed, but there wasn’t much humor in it. “And risk my life over a free concert? No.” He paused, “Despite my tendency to sometimes be… less than kind, I knew it would rattle you to see me. I didn’t want to throw you off before your performance.”

I didn’t have much of anything to say in response. Instead, I picked at the paper straw wrapper in my lap and tried to look anywhere but in his direction, shoving down whatever was welling up in my chest. He wouldn’t let things go, though. He never could. That was half of why we’d never work. Every time I tried to drop an uncomfortable subject he’d be there to pick it up with a snide comment or two. It was an easy rhythm. Too easy. I had never wanted to fall back into it and yet, here I was, almost excited to snipe his next words down.

“Cain misses you,” He continued.

I folded the straw wrapper in my hands, pulling at the crease as I thought about the doberman puppy I had left behind. He would be so big now, as big as the one I’d taken with me was now. My heart ached at the thought.

“I doubt he remembers me after all this time,”

“Of course he does,” Helmut’s voice was low. It was almost hypnotic, the way he carried himself. He could fool anyone. I realized, with a sinking feeling in my stomach that couldn’t have been the calamari, he could still fool me. “He’s quite the troublemaker. More times than I can count he’s evaded me in the house, only to be found asleep in your old closet. I think he remembers your scent,”

“Thats…” I sat quiet for a moment, pursing through choices of words in my mind, mulling over the sharp accented way he pronounced the t in scent, “Sad. Really sad. Makes me wish I could’ve taken them both,”

“And what of Brutus?”

“He’s good,” A smile crossed my face. “Big, as you saw tonight. I remember when we got them, they told us they’d be 60 pounds at most, but I swear Brutus must’ve snuck in with the rest of those puppies, because he’s massive. Headbutts me every time I walk through the door wondering where I was. He’s a good boy, though. Keeps watch while I sleep, just in case.”

“Just in case I decided to let myself in through the window one night?”

I let myself laugh without judgement this time, reaching for my water. “Looks like it was all for nothing, then. Who knew he’d just let intruders come waltzing in off of the fire escape?”

“Am I truly considered an intruder in your home?” He asked it as if the answer wasn’t obvious. As if there were any other answer I could possibly give. As if I could’ve wanted him there. His earnestness almost hurt as much as his taunting did, maybe more, because even if I didn’t want to admit it to myself, there was a soft ring of truth to his words.

I took the cowards way out. “I don’t know, what do you think?”

It was a vulnerability to not give a straight answer, the kind of weak spot that Helmut would catch wind of in an instant before using it to unravel someone piece by piece. Not a no, but certainly not a yes, and the fact that it hadn’t been a resounding yes was enough to glean that maybe, deep down, I wasn’t hating this dinner. He would see through me. Rip me to shreds for the subtle admittance that I hadn’t hated seeing him waiting for me on the couch when I walked through my door, even if I hadn’t expected or wanted him there in the first place.

I found it was better to lie by omission than to fully lie and let him see through me to the more important truth; For as much as I despised everything about him, I had missed Helmut Zemo. I had missed his stupid expensive taste and the tilt of his stupid head and his stupid shiny white smile. I had missed seeing his coat hung up beside the door and knowing what waited for me inside. It was sick how I had loved him. How I had loved every minute of him picking me apart by the seams and putting me back together. Who could possibly crave their own destruction? Who could live knowing that to be loved was to be deconstructed down to the bone and laid bare as something lesser, something so small compared to the great destroyer I devoted myself to.

How could he let me live like that if he truly saw through me?

And that was why I had to leave.

Loving Helmut Zemo was no way to live. I knew that. I had known that the day I picked up my dog and walked out of our home with nothing but my wallet, car keys, phone, and a polaroid picture of his silhouette. Somehow, I knew that he knew that too. Why else would I move on so suddenly, so sharply, removing every piece of the life we’d built to start myself fresh? A new me, I had said. A new chapter. Yet here I was across from him, shredded bits of paper littering my lap as he puppeteered my heart right back into his arms.

No. I couldn’t let it happen.

Not again.

“Listen, baron,” I didn’t let him answer my rhetorical question. It wouldn’t be wise to let him gain the upper hand again. It wouldn’t be smart to let myself stay weak. “I appreciate dinner. It’s been surprisingly lovely to catch up with you. I’m glad to know you’re not dead, and its great to know Cain is doing well, but I know you weren’t here to tell me that over a plate of mediocre pasta,”

Helmut smiled, his head in its signature tilt, and swished his own glass a bit. The ice was all but melted giving the liquor an almost clear quality as it diluted. Not a sip had been taken. “Ask the question, schatz,”

“Why are you here? Why did you stalk me here and break into my apartment when I made it clear that you weren’t welcome in my life?” My words came out so matter of fact even I almost recoiled at them. Not unemotional but detached.

“Um, who had the chicken alfredo?”

I could feel the blood drain from my face as I looked up at the poor waiter, hot plates in hand, as he took in our table at just the wrong time. Five minutes earlier he would have walked in on polite conversation about the dogs or the shitty appetizers. Now, though, he stood between a man who was known to kill for the things he wanted and me, the one thing he could never have again.

Surprisingly, though, Helmut waved a hand towards me as I froze. There were none of the usual dramatics, just polite chatter with the waiter as he set my plate in front of me and left Helmut with his, taking the offending calamari plate away with him as he scurried away, surely to tell his coworkers about the crazy exes at the corner table. Helmut didn't even carry on with his answer. He just started tucking in to his steak and potatoes, not sparing me a single glance. If I didn’t know better, if I hadn’t memorized the way his eyes looked in the low light of a restaurant across from me, I would think he’d been replaced by a skrull.

Where was the tearing? The shredding? The utter evisceration of my waiting throat as he drank deeply of my darkest, most shameful thoughts only to spit them out for the world to see. Where was that shame? In the before times, in the times that the two of us had been a we, he never would have paused to mind a waiter. The world would have revolved around him as he laid me bare, no matter who watched or waited in the wings. What changed?

How had I not noticed his docility until now?

The pasta was decent. It was better than anything I would’ve made at home, at least. I barely thought about it, though, letting my body go through the motions of eating mechanically while my mind went over a million things I could say. What could I say? There was nothing left to. We had gone over every possibility before I had left, at least I thought we had. Whatever we were was dead. That was certain. But what we could be…

I swallowed hard before I could choke on a relatively large piece of broccoli I neglected to chew in my trance.

Helmut seemed to be in a painfully similar situation. One look at his plate showed a steak cut into tiny pieces. Almost none of it looked eaten, just diced into a pile and shuffled around a bit on the plate to mix with the potatoes, smashed down from their neat ice cream scoop globe and spread with the back of a fork.

With a sigh, I set down my fork, pasta already forgotten.

“Lost your appetite?”

He paused his fiddling with his fork and knife, mirroring me and letting the utensils rest on the table beside his plate. It was odd to see him rattled. Strange to watch his eyes roll up to the ceiling and pause there, as if he was searching for the right words to say. He always knew just what to say to cut the deepest. Maybe it was foreign for him to not want to cut; To find a soft word, instead of a sharpened one. His mouth opened one… two…three times. Open and shut, open and shut. I couldn’t help but hurt for him. The man of many words was finally struck dumb.

Finally, it came.

“I’m sorry,”

I had anticipated a selfish reply, a demand for me to come back and put the past two years behind us, but time had changed him. It had changed us both. He was no longer the man he had been when he was first freed from behind bars, vengeful and biting and so deeply afraid of being alone again, but I was no longer the lost girl I had been either. I did not need to be destroyed to breathe. I could feel tears pricking up in my eyes as he reached a hand across the table to search for my own. It was such a familiar sight in a time of uncertainty. I kept my hands firmly in my lap, though. I would not give him the satisfaction.

More, I would not give him hope.

“Come home, schatz,”

There it was.

I couldn’t hold in the bitter, wet laugh that bubbled up through me, more at my own foolishness than at anything else. He had changed, yes, but some things never would.

“Helmut,” The word hurt to say. It was altogether both familiar and unfamiliar, covered in a thick layer of dust from time, but nothing could erase the fact that it had once been used over and over, like a prayer, as easy as breathing or saying my own name. “You know I can’t,”

He let his hand slink back to his side. “I had to try, you know,”

“I know,” The words were a whisper.

So this was closure?

The table was quiet. There was no desperation from Helmut’s side, no attempts to sway me or sudden outbursts of resentment. It was almost peaceful. His voice was sad but there was no manipulation in it. We laid our cards of the table as the game we’d played for years finally came to an end.

“You were right about us, when you left,” he laughed, “I was, as you so aptly put it, a massive ass. I was still so deeply disillusioned about this world and the horrors of it. It was as if everyone around me was just another cog in it all, even you. I thought if I could puppet it all, make things go my way, everything could just be quiet. The horrors would finally stop. The memories would finally stop. I took it too far, though. I took it out on you. For that, I will never be sorry enough,”

I put up a hand. “Helmut, you don’t have to do this-“

“I want to,”

His voice was delicate but didn’t waver. For the first time I wondered if this was more about what he needed to say than about what I needed to hear. I nodded him on. Without me even thinking about what I was doing, my hand caught his across the table.

“I wanted to run after you the same day you left. I nearly did, too, before I thought better of it. Then I really thought of what you said. What I did. It was then that I decided I had to change for the better, not for you but for myself. Only then would I allow myself to try again. So I did. I spent my time deconstructing the things I had seen and done and finally facing my own demons. I’m not perfect- believe me -but there are many things I have… worked on, for lack of a better word. James was surprisingly helpful throughout it all,”

“Is that why you’ve been talking?” My thumb stroked over his knuckles, pausing on a scar.

“More or less. I needed advice on how to overcome my atrocities, and I owed him an apology either way. He told me about your concert because he thought I would be ready to make amends, and yet I found myself unable to speak to you because I knew that if I did, I would have to beg you for forgiveness, and that is not something I will allow myself to do from anyone. Not now, nor ever,”

I let myself pull away. This was not a movie. There was no happy ending for the two of us at the end of this conversation. It was a chance to clear the air and let go of our grievances before going our separate ways. Treating it any other way would only hurt us both. “Why break in, then, and drag this all out over dinner? Why not just knock on my door, apologize, and leave?”

“I couldn’t have you slamming the door in my face and leaving me to apologize to the wall, now could I?”

We shared a sad smile, a knowing one. “I guess that’s true.”

“I needed to know you would hear what I had to say until the end,” he paused, “And one last confession. I must admit, I could not walk away without sharing dinner with you one last time. It’s selfish, as I am selfish, but I could not see you again without truly seeing you, more than just as you shouted at me and threw me to the curb,”

“You think so little of me?” I asked. There was no bite in it.

“No, I think so little of myself,” he finally took a sip from his glass, “Any anger on your part is warranted,”

We did not speak again for a long while. Helmut methodically went through the bite-sized pieces of steak on his plate as I finished the alfredo, which had grown cold in the time it took to sort things out. There was no quiet conversation, no jokes or shared stories in the glow of the lamps overhead. Instead we sat in peaceable silence and breathed in the finality of it all. I was almost grateful for it. I never would have imagined sharing a meal like this with him in all of the years I had known him and loved him. If it was to be the last, and it was, we would savor every moment of each others company. Every moment not spent on my meal was devoted to memorizing the line of his jaw and the shape of his eyes as he did the same for me.

By the time the waiter came to ask about dessert, I could have written sonnets about his face alone, and by the time he returned with the check, paid discreetly with a 40% tip for his troubles on Helmut’s card, I had committed the sound of his breathing to my mind. I could only hope the memory would last this time.

Realistically, I knew it wouldn’t.

I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as we approached the front of the restaurant together, pausing awkwardly outside the door as we exited out onto the street.

“So, this is it,” My hands found the pockets of my coat as I rocked onto the balls of my feet.

Helmut smiled softly in the lamplight. “Let me walk you home,”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,”

“Says who? I have to follow you either way, my car is parked down the block,” He offered me his arm.

I took it far quicker than I should have, relishing in the scent of his cologne. Even after all these years he had never switched to another brand, and I refused to admit to anyone else but myself that I was grateful for it. Instead I leaned into his warmth. “Well, it’s only a few blocks anyways. I guess it couldn’t hurt,” and with that, we were off.

The night was cool. Summer had given in to the pull of a lush fall, the temperatures dropping to a comfortable but windy chill when the sun fell below the horizon. The leaves were not yet falling but they’d begun their slow transformation from green into a mosaic of reds and yellows and greens, forming a rustling canopy above the sidewalk that allowed a flash of stars and moon through the foliage every few steps.

We were not the only pair walking through the streets that night, but if you had asked me about it later I would have said we were the only two people in the whole city, matching each other step for step under the flickering streetlights. Helmut’s crows feet were in full force as he laughed at my terrible jokes, and I couldn’t help but feel warmth rush through my neck and cheeks as he recounted the moment we first met.

It had been fall then, too. A brief, chance encounter in the streets of Paris was all it was, a night spend with a stranger, until I had seen him again in Sibera, and again in Germany, and again on the Raft, and again, and again, and again, and again…

He had been younger then, much younger, and still raw with grief, but I had loved him even then.

I was so lost in my own memories that I almost missed the stairs up to my apartment, but Helmut paused there, keeping me rooted with him even though the look in his eyes told me he almost kept walking past, hoping to gain one more turn around the block before he had to let me go. He didn't, though. This was the end of the line.

My arm slipped easily from its place against his own, hand catching briefly on the crook of his elbow. “Walk me to my door?”

His laugh felt almost nervous, a paid mockery of my own earlier reticence. “I don’t think that’s wise,”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a gentleman, baron?”

“I have never claimed that,” For a moment, when he paused, I thought that would be that. I would turn my back, ascend the stairs, and turn around to find he’d shifted back into the shadows from whence he came, but then the moonlight caught on his soft, wet eyes. “But for you, schatz, I try to be,”

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find the words I wanted to say as we walked up the front steps and into the building.

It had been so angry last time. I had vomited up every hateful, raging, repressed thought that I had shoved down into my chest over the course of our turbulent time together all at once and left without a second glance. This time, though, it felt wrong to end things without giving him credit for all of the other things, the things I had forgotten in the midst of all the chaos that surrounded us. How could I thank him? How could I tell him every wonderful thing about himself only to close the door in his face a moment later? I spent the whole trip up to my apartment trying to find a way to express even an ounce of what I felt, and then it was far too late.

We stood there on my novelty doormat, boots settled over the dirty cartoon chickens, hands in our pockets, and breathed in the stale hallway air.

“Thank you for dinner,” I said. If I shut off my heart and my mind and every other little betraying ache in my bones it was like it had been all those years ago. We were just meeting. This was the end of our very first date. There was a future instead of a past in the time that lay beyond us.

Helmut averted his eyes from mine. I could tell he was pretending too. “Of course,”

“I’ll see you again,” I lied, “I mean, it’s inevitable. We’ll end up at Bucky’s place at the same time,”

“Or run into each other at a busy cafe,” he offered.

“Exactly! Or our cells will end up next to each other in maximum security prison,” I laughed, but it caught, pathetic, in the back of my throat.

He took a step back, boots leaving my doorstep. “I look forward to it, whenever it may be,”

My shaking hands found my keys, an autopilot motion I had done a million times, and the door to my apartment swung open. I could hear Brutus in his kennel, beginning to whine the moment he heard me come home, but I paused there for a moment, one foot in and one foot out.

“Goodbye, Helmut,”

“Sleep well, schatz,”

I stepped inside and locked the door without turning around for a last look.

My tears came quicker than expected as I took in the room around me. It was the antithesis of my home with Helmut, all whites and beiges and grays from the sparse walls to the lonely couch against the wall. There was one great shock of black, though; a solid footprint on the windowsill. One last souvenir to remember him by.

I had done the right thing.

I had to have done the right thing.

Life with Helmut was hell. It was exciting and lush and romantic and alluring but it was destructive and painful too. It would mean being seen and unseen for the rest of my life, living with the ghosts of those lost in Novi Grad. He would never stop being the man his grief had created. He was just too broken… wasn’t he?

All at once I knew I had to see him again. This wasn’t going to be the end. There were still so many chances to make it right.

Before I knew my own feelings, I was undoing the latch and throwing my door open, only to find him there, feet planted solidly on that stupid welcome mat and fist raised to lift the knocker. Our eyes locked.

We didn’t need words then.

No, all I needed was his lips on mine and my hands in his hair. It was a need easily rectified.

He didn’t pull away as I grabbed the edges of his ridiculous fur coat and dragged him in for a kiss, letting the remains of that day’s lipstick smear against his chapped lips as the parted and made way for me. It was like a piece of my puzzle fell back into place, like the thing that had been lying dormant in my empty chest for the past two years had jumped to life and jumped into my throat. The tears weren’t coming anymore, though Helmut’s cheeks felt wet when I guided one of my hands to rest against it, dragging him closer. I needed him urgently. I needed all of it. Every moment I had missed.

At least one time in my entire tiny, useless life I needed to know him as he had always known me. I had to see him through eyes that would know every atom of him by heart.

It could have lasted second or hours. I was lost in it; lost in every heartbeat and the messy clack of teeth on teeth as we remembered exactly how our mouths locked into each other. There was no need to breathe. I would happily drown in him if he would let me. Through the passion I distinctly remembered this fervor, the endless need for him. It wasn’t frightening anymore, though. I knew how to walk away. We both did.

This time I didn’t want to.

Helmut was the first to pull away. His mouth was wet and red as he panted there, just a breath away from diving in for more, but he pulled away when I advanced again, instead choosing to speak between placing kisses on my cheeks and down my jaw. “I couldn’t let you walk away from me. Not again,” his voice shook as he kissed me, “Does that make me a bad man? Does that mean you can’t love me?”

I could only breathe a laugh as I pressed my chest to him. No measure of closeness was enough. I needed him to cover every inch of me. “I don’t think I could stop loving you if I tried, and I’ve tried,”

“Please, stop trying,”

With that, he caught me in another kiss.

“We should probably go inside,” I panted, gesturing towards the apartment with my head and Helmut nodded, maneuvering us over the threshold and into the barren entryway of the home I’d made without him. It didn’t matter, though. That wasn’t what I was focused on. Instead, my hands were more focused on pulling his coat from his shoulders and discarding it loosely in the direction of the coat rack between fevered kisses.

The old Helmut would’ve pulled away and make some snarky remark about keeping the place clean. This Helmut, though- my Helmut, as I had selfishly started to refer to him mentally in the past few moments -just dragged me in closer after his arms were freed, letting his hand drift to the small of my back but not even an inch lower.

Suddenly, though, things seemed to cool. The kisses grew shorter, softer. His arms still held me but seemed to loosen their grip.

“Tell me you want this,” He whispered softly against the shell of my ear, “That you want me,”

Ah. So that’s what this is.

“Helmut, of course I do-“

“That’s not enough,” his voice was laced with a rare seriousness as he pulled away to look at me properly. His brown eyes glowed a million honeyed colors under the shitty, flickering overhead lighting I should have replaced months ago. They flitted from my swollen mouth to my cheeks to my watery eyes as his hand came up to cup my cheeks again. “Tell me this isn’t a mistake or a bad decision you’ll regret the second we finish,”

The rest went unsaid.

(Tell me you’ll stay. Tell me this means something to you, even if it doesn’t mean as much as it does to me. Tell me I won’t wake up alone tomorrow morning. Tell me anything and everything except the cruel reality that neither of us really knows what the future looks like once this is over)

I simply nodded my head, coming in for one closed mouth kiss. “I want this. I want you. Whatever I choose to do next, you’ll be a part of the decision. No more running away,”

Like a shot, we were off to the races again.

It was hard to detach our bodies long enough to give Brutus a treat to quiet him down, harder still to lead him to the bedroom and drop his hand long enough to turn on a nearby lamp, but somehow I managed. For all of the small things I’d forgotten about Helmut in the two years we’d spent apart, his bitten nails and the silhouette of his nose and the sound of his labored breathing as he took in my body with something akin to animalistic hunger, it was easy to fall back into the rhythm we’d always found ourselves in intimately.

His shirt came off first, exposing the soft curve of his stomach. I kissed down from his neck to his chest, letting myself pause on each and every pinkish scar that graced his flesh. I made a mental note to ask him about a few new ones, including a wicked one across his collarbone that still puckered into an inch long divot in his flesh. My fingers followed my mouth, mapping every inch of his flesh. They caught on every soft yielding place he offered, a worship on the altar of his body, dragging his flesh ever so slightly but never enough to leave a scratch or bruise.

I would not mark him any more than the world already had. It was not my purpose to remold him into my image. Instead I would venerate what he was, what he had become.

Helmut had put so much effort into changing himself, rebreaking the things that had never healed correctly and setting them right again. I refused to let him break down to splinters again. Not on my watch.

He shuddered at my attentions.

“Let me see you?” It was a question, not a demand, and how could I deny him when he asked so nicely?

I stood up again, relishing in the feeling of his fingers against the hem of my t-shirt, the gentle scratch of nails on skin as he lifted it over my head. When he looked at me, it was like he was looking at the most precious thing in the world. Usually he was so hungry for it that there was never a pause once my shirt was discarded. My bra would be thrown off with it, then my pants, then my underwear, all in such quick succession that I barely distinguished one article from the next in the order of things. This time, though, he paused, hands just inches from my bare flesh.

“My sweet girl,” he whispered to me like a prayer, a confession, “I don’t think I can hold back much longer,”

Slowly, deliberately, I stepped forward and pressed my body into his awaiting hands. He squeezed my hips once, gentle, and twice. Then they were roaming up to the clasp on my bra with that usual hunger again, freeing my breasts for his attentions. I don’t exactly recall how he manhandled me on to the bed, I was too busy feeling the hard press of his bulge through his crisp dress slacks. The first thing I was fully cognizant of was his hot breath on my sternum as he hovered over me, still standing but bent at the waist, boxing me in with his knees.

“So fucking sweet,” he whispered before taking one of my nipples between his lips and laving his tongue over the hardening tip.

I felt like a live wire. Heat was building everywhere. Dazzling electricity shot through my head and fingers and toes and cunt and gods especially my breasts. They were always my weak spot, and how he knew it, how he knew me. I wanted to thrash against him, to buck and gain his attention where I really needed it, but his body above mine held me fast, keeping me right where he wanted me, vulnerable to him and his specific brand of torture. With a particularly sharp pinch and a well timed suck he had me keening against him, curling into his every move.

How had I lived without him? It was hard to imagine a night not spend here with Helmut, wherever here was, not that that mattered. I was embarrassingly wet. The slickness had gathered enough that I could feel it on my thighs despite my jeans. When I tried to relieve myself, though, the baron caught my hand, tutting softly.

I expected to have to ask permission. Soft begs escaped my mouth. I needed him. I had no patience for games. Instead, though, he lifted up off of my chest and smiled, pulling my hand to his lips. “Let me help you, love,”

There are no words in the human language that could adequately represent the sound that escaped my mouth. I could not even begin to try. It continued even as I lifted my hips to shimmy free from my jeans and underwear in one fluid motion, only ceasing when Helmut was on his knees with his face buried in my cunt. I was making different noises then. Loud. Guttural. If I had any mind left at all I would worry what my neighbors thought, to see me out on my doorstep desperately pawing at a man only to hear the noises we were making in tandem now. Thankfully, any sensible thought I had left seemed to fly out the window with Helmut’s first lick to my cunt.

It was clear that he hadn’t forgotten me, and if he had, the muscle memory was coming back quick. His tongue was deft as it worked its way over my aching nub in a pseudo-figure eight; circling once, twice, and three times before dipping back through my folds. I held him in place this time, though, rocking into his mouth. At some point my hands found their way into his hair. It was so soft between my fingers, so pliable as I pulled against him, desperate for more of him, anything he would good.

Every time he relented to me. Each sharp jolt was rewarded with a kiss against my thigh or a muttered curse in Sokovian, hot breath teasing my glistening mound.

He was so giving, so attentive to my every need. He had always been a generous lover, never leaving me wanting for anything, but this felt… different. The way he sucked bruises into my thighs, relenting to each and every sobbing please that escaped my soft lips, was a new and devastating experience. There were no power games left to play, no lording his sexual prowess over me as he brought me slowly closer and closer to the ever distant goalpost, just his mouth on me over and over and over again as he wrung the first orgasm of the night out of me, then the second in short measure, barely ceasing from one to the next.

By the time he decided I’d had my fill, my legs were a trembling mess against his shoulders and my cunt was a sopping mess.

He grinned a crooked grin at his masterpiece.

“How was that, my love,”

I could barely catch my breath enough to speak. My heartbeat thundered in my ears, thrumming a frantic drumbeat even as the room quieted. “So good- really really good, Helmut,”

Slowly, he rose up from his knees, undoing his belt. “Please say my name again, schatz,”

“Helmut,” My voice was hushed. Reverent.

He undid the button at his fly, pulling at the band of his boxers. “Again,”

It fell from my lips like a prayer. “Helmut,”

His cock bounced free, bobbing as he took a sharp, steadying breath. He placed his hand at the base and squeezed slightly.

“Again,”

“Helmut,”

“Fuck, that’s good,” The trance broke momentarily as I gazed up at him, watching the sweat roll down his forehead in shining rivulets despite the chill in the air. He wiped at them with the back of his free hand and smiled sheepishly. “Scoot back and get comfortable, please. I don’t think I’ll last long,”

I did as he asked, settling against my pillows on the still-made sheets. “Neither will I,”

“Where are your condoms?”

“Bedside drawer, way in the back. I’m on the pill too, so no worries,”

He moved quickly, grabbing a foil package from the small pile I’d accrued, just in case.

It felt odd to have him be the one using them.

There had been a few other men who had been invited here, fewer still that made it to the point that Helmut and I were at now. Every time, though, I hadn’t been able to go through with it, because every time they had finally settled themselves above me, I would close my eyes and, just for a moment, see Helmut in their place. It was unsettling the first time, enough so that I sent the guy home right away. The next time, though, it was more thought provoking than anything. I chalked it up to him being my longest lasting sexual partner and left it at that, but now, watching him roll the condom onto his length and crawl into his position over me, I knew.

I would never get over him, even if I tried for years. My heart had a space carved out in the shape of his own. No matter how long I stayed away, I would never find something quite like what we had. He was it. This was what people dreamed about. And to think, I had almost let it slip away…

He slid one hand into mine, lacing our fingers together in the gentle lamplight. “Are you ready for me?”

“More than ready,” My thighs spread as I canted my hips up.

Physically and mentally and every other possible way I needed him. I was prepared.

So Helmut pumped himself once with his free hand before guiding himself into my wet heat.

It was impossible to last long once we were finally complete.

Feeling him inside me was like knowing the truth of the universe. It was comfortable, and thrilling, and so deliciously enough. He filled me well, finding his rhythm as he swore and released my hand to prop himself up more comfortably. We were linked together like the final pieces of a puzzle. I closed my eyes at let myself relish in it.

There was nothing left to worry over while Helmut was inside of me. All thoughts that weren’t of him were banished. It was something to be cherished, every thrust paired with a whispered confession of love from one of us, a fleeting kiss, a curse, a plea… We laid ourselves bare. I let my legs wrap around his warm, soft hips as he rutted into me, bringing a hand between us to circle my clit once more. Even after everything he refused to leave me behind while he chased his own pleasure. It didn’t take much to send me tumbling over the edge into oblivion.

As always, Helmut followed me down.

His thrusts quickened, then stilled as he came to rest upon me, panting and heaving and begging for breath. I didn’t care much. He smelled of cologne and sweat as I buried my face in his shoulder and closed my eyes. I could feel him soften inside of me but I was far too spent to urge him to move.

We only shifted apart when he slipped free of me.

Helmut quickly kissed my forehead and gathered himself up, shuffling to the trash can to discard the used condom and grab a tissue to wipe himself up. I didn’t let myself move an inch. If I moved, would the bliss run away? Would I realize what I’d done? I let myself lay instead, eyes closed, panting in the autumn chill as my lover approached and wiped up our beautiful mess as gently as he could manage. With one last kiss to my thigh, he discarded the rag, opened the window, and crawled back into bed with me.

The process was indelicate, a lot of awkward shuffling of sticky limbs, but we were settled beneath the blankets soon enough. Helmut stroked his fingers down my arm languidly while kissing the back of my neck.

I broke the peace between us.

“I don’t… I don’t know what this means for us,”

He sighed gently. His breath was soothing and familiar against my shoulder. “That’s not something we have to decide at this very moment,”

“But I just don’t want you to think this means something… or at least something more than it does? If that makes sense? I don’t know,”

“Schatz, please,”

“I want to keep my own place, at least for now. I don’t know what that means for when I’ll see you or if we’ll keep doing this,” I gestured vaguely to my nude body beneath the sheets, “or if we’re even a thing anymore, bu-“

Helmut reached his arm around us, placing a quieting finger over my lips and another soft kiss against my shoulder.

“I swear, your mind sounds even louder than mine,”

“Sorry,”

“No reason to be,” His hand left my lips, running down to my stomach and pulling me back towards the softness of his chest. “As for your questions, I shall respect your wishes about distance and housing and labels, whatever they may be. That being said, as long as you’re still up for… this, as you put it, I will never deny you, no matter the distance. I would cross oceans for you,”

A cum-drunk, half-asleep giggle escaped me as he nuzzled in, kissing my ear.

“Thank you,”

“No, thank you,” he matched my laughter with his own, “I believe this is what James would call post nut clarity,”

“Now you ruined it!” I huffed. The faux anger only lasted a moment, though, before I was rolling to face him, cheek pressed to the soft, downy hair of his chest. “I love you, Helmut.”

“I love you too, sweet girl. Now sleep. I’ll get up and deal with the dog once you’re resting,”

For the first time in two years, I breathed in the scent of Helmut’s cologne before lapsing into a peaceful sleep.

---------

A/N: Thank you for reading! This is my first foray into smut in literal years, and it was literally all written within a 12 hour period, so I hope any mistakes weren't enough to take away from your enjoyment. Comments are always appreciated, but never expected. See you on the next authors note!

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo x reader #daniel brühl #fanfic #marvel fanfiction #x reader #helmut zemo x reader #baron helmut zemo x reader #daniel bruhl x reader #zemo smut #marvel smut

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danikamariewrites · 7 months

Note

could i please request an az x reader, reader used to be an assassin and a ruthless contract killer. she turned her life around and is a trusted war strategist for the inner circle. although she doesn’t kill if she doesn’t have to, reader still gets urges and can be riled up by people who annoys her. Azriel knows how much she represses her murderous side and wants her to blow of some steam.

He creates a little game where he releases some prisoners/traitors/criminals from his dungeon, that he was planning on torturing, into the woods and if reader catches she gets to torture them with him.

couple who tortures together stays together 😍

The Game

Azriel x dark!reader

A/n: I’m loving the dark requests I’ve been getting they’ve been so interesting to write, thanks anon!

Warnings: dark reader, violence, mentions of murder, mentions of torture

In the middle of the High Lords meeting you couldn’t take it anymore. Your jaw was sore from clenching it too hard. Your gums hurting from grinding your teeth down. Tamlin and Beron were fighting loudly and you had the urge to remove ones head and the other’s tongue. You had to get out or your violent tendencies would come out and you weren’t interested in being thrown in prison today.

You stood abruptly from the table and left without saying a word. The High Lords didn’t quit their bickering but you felt a few pairs of eyes on your back. You didn’t know how far you had walked from the room. All that matters was it was silent, just your breathing and heartbeat reaching your ears.

Moments later you heard Azriel’s footsteps. He would never make himself known, but in this case he didn’t want to piss you off more. Azriel stood in front of you, his shadows swirling around the both of you to give you some privacy.

“I didn’t want to kill them.” You said flatly. A smirk pulled the corner of Azriel’s lips. “I figured.” A moment of silence passed between you two. You rolled out your neck to release some tension. “Did you just start getting the urge today, or for a few days?” You shake your head, “Just during the meeting.” Azriel nodded silently.

“We can play the game tonight if you want.” You looked at your beloved boyfriend with a devilish grin. All teeth and cold. “Sounds perfect.”

———

As the last of the sun disappeared you stood at the edge of the woods waiting for Azriel. You double and triple checked your daggers, sword, and your compact crossbow. The compact wasn’t your most lethal weapon, but the people you hunted didn’t know that. Plus it was cute.

Behind you, you heard the sounds of muffled struggling as Azriel dragged one of his latest prisoners beside him. “It’ll be good chase. He fought me getting out of his cell.” You clicked your tongue at him. “I hope you didn’t bang him up too badly. That takes the fun out of it for me.”

Azriel held the male by the scruff of his neck, a black bag still over his head. The male was panicking, twisting his head around as if he could see his surroundings. “His crimes?” That was part of the game Azriel made for you.

When you had the urge to go back to your old ways, thanks to having been brainwashed as a child, Azriel let you hunt down prisoners who were going to be put to death or deserved it. “Treason, against out high lord and lady. He had plans to take Lady Night, like he could, and deliver her to the middle.” You shook your head at the male.

“That’s what I want to know,” Azriel continued, “put the fear of the Mother into him. And maybe he’ll cooperate.” The male was visibly shaking. He was trying to plead with Azriel. The words incoherent thanks to the gag in his mouth.

“Your head start begins now.” At that you booked it into the trees, finding a place the hide out until the male eventually came running this way. They we’re all so predictable. None of these criminals ever gave you a real fight. Yes they’d run and run but that was utterly boring. You wanted at least one to try and hit you. It would give you a reason to never stop hitting them.

Minutes passed as you sat still tucked away between two thick trees whose trunks were almost touching. Finally you heard the males pathetic panting breathes. His heavy footsteps thundering against the forest floor.

The male stopped in front of your hiding spot as he whipped his head around. His eyes wild as he tried to take in his entire surrounding. Silently, you drew the compact crossbow, nocking an arrow. Aiming at his head you let it fly. The small arrow nicked the males ear finding home in the tree next to him.

He let out a small scream and started to run further into the woods. Rolling your eyes, you stood and followed at a break neck speed. You drew two daggers as you caught up to him.

You threw the first one, aiming for the middle of his calf. The dagger stuck and the male feel to the ground wailing in pain. He only stopped a moment. Gripping at his leg and crawling away.

You had to give him credit, he was the most determined to get away from you. You walked lazily toward the whimpering male. Tossing your dagger in the air and catching it by the handle. “Are you going to get up? Because this is pathetic.” You drawled. “Fuck off bitch!”

“Oohhh creative.” You were getting bored. You wanted to get to the good part but you were still figuring out how you wanted to end this. He reached out his hand to pull himself forward again. There was your mark. Standing over him you flung the dagger down so it would go right through the middle of his hand.

The male screamed out in pain. He stopped moving so you rested your black-booted foot between his shoulder blades. You whistled for Azriel. Signaling the game was over.

Azriel dove through the canopy of trees, landing with a loud thud that shook the surrounding trees. Azriel smiled at you, “Good. He’ll still be able to speak.” You pressed down on the males back and he let out another sound of pain. Azriel picked him up and winnowed the three of you to the dungeon.

You watched, leaning against one of the damp stone walls while Azriel chained the male to a chair in the middle of the dark room. “Do you want to go first or should I?” Azriel asked you over his shoulder. You nodded signaling Azriel start the process of retrieving information first.

You would get the information out of the male. You could see it in his eyes. His resolve was crumbling. You and Azriel were just the pair to crush him completely.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel x you #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #acotar azriel #azriel fic

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five-flavor-soup · 4 months

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Why the endgame couples in A:TLA weren’t necessary: a frustrated ramble

Listen I’m a Zutara shipper through and through (developed after my second rewatch in 2013) but by Tui Agni and La am I glad that it never happened in canon?? Like Kataang and Maiko themselves already felt so rushed and almost out-of-nowhere and their canonisation added like nothing to the plot. Aang’s crush on Katara is a plot device; Zuko’s relationship with Mai at the start of S3 is a plot device. I can barely fathom how Zutara would’ve turned out and I also kinda don’t want to. Imagine Zuko and Katara kissing at the end of the series: it feels completely out of left field, doesn’t it? Knowing that who-ends-up-with-who was an argument in the writer’s room for almost all three seasons means that it could’ve happened.

It shouldn’t have. I don’t think the Kataang kiss or the Maiko romance-reunion should’ve happened either. It’s unnecessary to add—there’s just no need for it, and my nagging here isn’t because I like Zutara and I don’t like how Maiko and Kataang turned out. It’s because the ships and couples and whatever the fuck else are NOT, and should not, be the point of A:TLA—and the ‘couple gets together in the very last scene and all is well :)’ shot suggests that it is.

A:TLA, to me, tried to show the horrifying nature of war and all its victims: the harrowing poverty, the deep-rooted trauma, the bloody violence. I interpreted the most prominent message of A:TLA to be that what was happening during those 100 years is wrong, that war is wrong—it affects the humanity within people, affects what point we offer empathy and kindness, because horrific trauma and needless violence muddies it all up. Why would you hold out a hand for someone who would’ve murdered you if they had the chance? Why would you physically support someone who hurt you and those you care about deeply? Those of the other nations can barely scrounge up empathy for someone from the Fire Nation, because those of the Fire Nation present themselves as inhuman. Those of the Fire Nation can barely scrounge up empathy for someone from any of the other nations, because the Fire Nation presents them as inhuman. And A:TLA shows that all these people are human, good and bad and all of that in between, because that’s just what humanity is. Varied and morally grey.

THAT’S what the GAang learns. That’s what the people around them learn. It’s what Iroh, a war criminal in his own right, tries to teach every child and teen who he interacts with: not in a preachy way, but in a vague way that implies he’d rather have them figure it out themselves lest they interpret his direct teachings wrong. He got indoctrinated into this terrorising, imperialist regime from the day he was born and onwards and it took a personal loss — the death of his son during a siege Iroh himself was leading, a siege in which Iroh and Lu Ten were the aggressors — for him to start thinking that maybe it’s all wrong. Maybe what he was taught is wrong. And he doesn’t want these children to take as long as he did.

The GAang and their (teenage) enemies and small antagonists have all been touched by war, almost to the point of no return. None of the need for violence, the calm in the face of battle and death, the willingness to sacrifice innocents for a sliver of retribution, the extensive knowledge of How To Fight A Battle And Win—none these qualities that these children (!!) may or may not portray are ‘normal’ teenage behaviours. They simply have to have them, or they die or freeze. Their childhoods were stopped in their tracks early because of experiences no child should ever experience. Such is the reality of war. And yet, in spite of the hurt and harm, the GAang is still capable of kindness and empathy. That’s what it’s about.

To end the series with explicit romance — Sokka/Suki doesn’t count, their relationship is not as in-your-face as The Scenes — just feels wrong. Maybe with another season of development it could’ve worked far better (and less unexpected, especially since the previous one-on-one Kataang interaction was Katara getting cross with Aang for kissing her when she was confused; and the previous one-on-one Maiko interaction was Zuko locking Mai in a cell/out of the way and then leaving without looking back). But with the three seasons that we got, it feels odd that the romance is highlighted at the end—especially when Zuko was miserable with Mai (with her being the human representation of ‘close your eyes and pretend everything’s fine’), and there ALSO was a perfectly good ending scene with the GAang bickering right there. Right before the ending kiss.

Why end it like that, when the series isn’t about romance, but about familial and platonic love and love for humanity instead? Why not just hint towards getting (back) together? What’s the point of these confirmations other than ‘the hero gets the girl’ in both instances?

#atla critical #avatar: the last airbender #kataang critical #maiko critical #anti kataang #anti maiko #just to be safe #they should’ve been developed way more imo #they just felt rushed idk what to say #the gaang #atla #LOVE zutara. am endlessly glad it isn’t canon #atla meta #i suppose??#long post

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zwolfgames · 1 month

Note

Can we have more Yandere mha x child reader please 😁🙏

*Thank you for the request! I' unsure wether you wanted a continuation of the original two parts or a new one. This one us a continuation but I was fairly out of ideas so I hope this is alright. If you did mean a totally new concept then I'll be happy to write that too :3)

Requested: Annon

Warnings: Kinda child abuse but not in a violence or sexual way. Manipulation. Incorrect lore. Binding. Yandere.

(3rd person PoV)

Y/N. The one kid know to have escaped the league of villains.

But what no one told the news, was that you were also the one kid to escape all of class 1A. A class of pshyco's.

Now that you look back at it. You had been naive.

Trusting these heroes. Just for them to use you as a doll, as a baby to coddle because they felt bad. Because they needed it.

But no one ever asked you... no one.It had been another two long years now.

Your body had finally been allowed to age without Eri being there to revert you, even if she was willing or not. You still weren't sure if that child had been in the same situation as you... But you didn't have time to look back.

Not when they were hunting you.

Now that some war between villains and hero's was around the corner. The searches became more intense. You'd catch Bakugo not two alleys down from you.

See Tokoyami and Hawks patrol from above.

Allmight had been caught in disguise just yesterday.

They were closing in on you.

You had only gotten away up untill now by cuttibg your hair differently. Wearing baggy... stolen.. clothes and caking dirt all over your face.

But what had to be done had to be done.

It's not like the villains left you alone either.

Altough, with the criminal circkles you had affiliated in, as was totally allowed for a 10 year old... you had heard of them trying to find you.

And you know... for someone's whos mentally just 12, that was scary.So you had trained yourself to fight a bit... Wich wouldn't do a lot against grown adults... but the tought was nice.

It's not like your quirk would be of any help. Crying pearls only helped you get by. And thats it...

But naturally, a story couldn't go on with it's main character living peacefully.

As you were napping on your little cleaned up dumpster of a home, you got knocked out of it as the whole plastic container got kicked to it's side.

An all too exited Kirishima came running to grab you off of the floor.You rolled out of the way. Kicking over some cardboard to slow him down as you sprinted away.

The boy just used his quirk to smash trough any and all obstacles. He had one goal in mind. And that is to take their shared sibling back.

Sibling was a better title then your actual role was. You're more of an emotional support pet....

Just as you think you'd still manage to get away from Kirishama, a tendril of grey scarf wraps firmly around you.

You're snatched up and quickly find yourself trapped in someones arms.

The man didn't even want to talk right now. He had gotten way too attached to you. A little kid with barely any power. Those kind of people is what he vowed to protect.

And even tough it seemed like you didn't want anything to do with him or other hero's. Aizawa was sure you'd understand that you needed the protection when the war began.

That you'd need a parental figure-He means... that he'd be available if you ever needed... guidance.

So in no time were you back to U.A.. Wrists bound like an animal.

You didn't like these people anymore...

They made you feel weak, useless...

Not human.

Just a plaything...

You were once again reverted back to an 8 year old and this time, kept in a diffrent room.

"So, like I said, you'll be sleeping in my room now, alright kiddo? I promise this is just for your safety. See, we even set up your own little bed. Yaorozu even made you a plush of your favorite dinosaur. And well... Koda.. tried to do that aswell- but- nevermind." Aizawa explained as he showed you your... incredibly cozy bed. Tough having to sleep in the same room as the guy that had essentially brought you into this mess..

Not your favourite.

"Don't look so depressed kid. It could be way worse. The villains could have killed you by now. You really shouldn't have run from us. We're just keeping you safe." Aizawa sighs and rubs your now messily cut hair.

You just huff in the little defiance you had left.

How dare he try and say that the villains who just as much wanted you back were trying to kill you?

Did he think you were stupid?

Probably.

Actually, undoubtedly.

They must all think that, that the slightest gust of wind would blow you away.

What did even see in you? Just a child?

No one would go this far for just a child...But you were their child. Group effort. Class project.

That was you. A responsibility they took way too seriously.

You still yearn for the reality where you could have just been delivered to an orphanage. Gotten an actual normal family.

A mom and a dad... or a mom and a mom... or a dad and a da- okay look you just didn't care as long as it wasn't this...

"Look, and we got you even more toys. And Midoriya mentioned that you liked to draw? Right? So only the best supplies for our little hero." Aizawa tries to smile.

You didn't know wether he was the only one that actually noticed how wrong this all was... he knew... but he couldn't give you up... give you away.

He never intended for this... but his class had also gotten attached... he wasn't alone in this... And that sucked for you.

Because escape attempt after escape attempt just ended up as you getting more stuck.

Ankle chain, gps tracker, locked doors, barred windows, constant surveillance.

How is no one saying anything against this? Why is this just being allowed?

Why did the freedom rule not count for you?

Where is the law?

Nowhere.

Not for you.

Its never been there for you.

And honestly, that hurt.

Why didn't anyone help you?

Why weren't you saved?

You littarly live with hero's and you're the victim.

This isn't okay...

And you couldn't do anything about it.

So you broke.

Going from defiant child to broken toy in days. Rotting in your extremly comfrotable bed like a depressed teenager.

Wich techically you could almost classify for mentally. Just half a year more.

Getting dragged out of your bed to be passes around like a plushy for movie nights was common now.

The students were getting more nervous too with the upcoming war.

Ochako coddled you more.

Deku had been teaching you about all his quirk knowledge as if he was scared he's die.

Aizawa was fixing up more safety manners.

Hawks had been coming over to babysit during actual hero school lessons.

Wich was even more awkard.

"Hey kid, smile."

"Y/N, can you draw me?"

"You're so cute Y/N, why don't i just take you with me instead? Im sure they wouldn't mind."

"Kiddo, want to go shopping?"

"Y/N."

"Kid."

"Kid..."

You were not a kid...

Stop it.

Why can't they leave you alone.

So you cried. Embarrassingly so in Hawk's presence. Pearls fell from your eyes and the pro hero looked on in awe.

Cupping your cheeks and whispering sweet words to try and comfort you.

Wrapping his wings around you and patting your head.

And dammit if you didn't hate all of them you would have loved this.

But after this... there really wasn't any escape.

War was spent in a bunker.

The survivors clung to you for dear life after the events and you just had to sit trough it like the good doll you were.

Smile and wave Y/N.

You weren't ever free.

And you never will be.

#yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere #xreader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #yandere mha #yandere bnha #tw yandere #yandere writing #yandere imagine #mha #mha x reader #mha bakugou #bnha #my hero academia #platonic yandere mha

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intersectionalpraxis · 3 months

Note

hey im sorry if you already answered this and i don’t mean to antagonize you, but out of curiosity: why do you tag your Palestine posts with feminism? i don’t want to come off as rude but it did kind of confuse me at first

It's no worries at all, I have addressed this a handful of times, and another person asked me, and I answered. The anon question is deep in my page, so I'll share some posts I've spoken about why more feminists need to be talking about Gaza below, and address why not talking about this as a feminist issue is problematic.

The fight to dismantle power structures and institutions doesn't end at the patriarchy, but when there is an end to white supremacy, capitalism, and western imperialism, among other axises of oppression.

Strides and fights to liberation shouldn't be cherry-picked (we see this predominantly in white feminism -who only act when it personally effects them). And at the most technical level, women's experiences are intersectional and extend beyond just liberation from gender norms and expectations -yes, it is at the core of feminist discourse, to shatter ceilings and demand equity across the board, but that also includes the intersections -race, class status, disability, sexuality, religion, ethnicity, among many other aspects of our identities.

Women and children are also disproportionately impacted and killed by IOF terrorism. They are targeted purposely, and I addressed this in some of the posts below. An IOF official liked a post that said Palestinian women part of the 'Hamas infrastructure' and said they must be 'dealt' with via their deaths. Pregnant Palestinian women are being left without care during their trimesters, and tens of thousands of them have zero to inadequate care; and many are miscarrying. There is also a period care shortage, and many Palestinians have resorted to using cloths. Which overall the lack of access can cause health ramifications in the future.

So this is why ALL my posts are tagged with feminist and feminism. Especially when the IOF regularly uses 'don't the feminists of the world care that Hamas is raping Israeli women' in their propoganda videos and campaigns in order to spread misinformation and weaponize women's and feminist liberation movements to excuse their genocide of Palestinian people.

We should also not forget about the rampant sexual violence Palestinian women and children have and continue to experience by abusive, predatory rapists among the IOF soldiers, both past and present. Especially in the prisons' systems. I talk about this a lot on my page. So much of what I included below is only a fraction of what I have spoken about. My bottom line is if you're a feminist who talks about "women's liberation" and that doesn't include ALL women being systematically oppressed by settler/imperial/colonial forces, and you're especially not critical of your governments being complicit or funding a genocide, don't call yourself a feminist.

I hope this offers some clarity.

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mistypsych · 10 months

Text

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 5

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after not writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. As promised we are reaching the chapter where Suga will be taking the lead! Comments and thoughts are well appreciated. Don’t hesitate to ask questions, state your thoughts for me to post up and have me add you to the tag list!

The quiet “What?” echoed mercilessly over the walls of the small hallway. The only other sound to be heard, were your deep breaths. His was full of panic, while yours was coated with anger, that you have kept pent up inside these past days. This was not the best moment to start such a difficult discussion, but something snapped from within and you were ready for war.

Staring him straight in the eyes you worded out slowly “I WAS WITH YOUR FRIEND AGUST-D”. He just continued to stand there with a face full of disbelief. You could see his body stiffen as he was clearly thinking of what to say, but you decided that pause there was enough. Pushing threw him you stormed down to the kitchen, throwing your bag on the floor. Silence meant he was trying to come up with a lie, right? You didn’t know what to think anymore. Everything was getting out of hand. The life built on all the years of hardship, studies and sacrifices, seemed to be flying out of your grasp.

You felt your heartbeat all the way to your throat. Your muscles started to tremble and your legs threatened to give in. Were you really about to lose all you worked so hard on? Everything you knew and thought was so important seemed to all go down the drain. Tears were welling up your eyes. Your breath got erratic and your chest uncomfortably tight.

With a shaky hand your grabbed a glass of water, downing it in one go. Anxiety was starting to overflow your whole body. This was all really happening. Life as you knew it was being eaten up by flames and you were petrified of finding out, what would be left in the scorched remains. Was there any hope? Was there a chance of surviving this?

Suddenly you felt arms tightly wrap around your waist and Hoseok’s chin on your shoulder. You struggled to rip away from his embrace but he easily out powered you. “Let go of me! I don’t even know who the hell you are!” you yelled helplessly. Tears rolled down your cheeks, but he still wouldn’t let you go. Instead he quietly shushed you, tightening his grip and begged you to calm down.

“Y/N I don’t know what you think you found out but trust me I can explain…” he said in a soft tone. He pressed against you closely and hummed into your ear trying to end your fit. Once he felt your body loosen up, he turned you to face him, grabbing your face in his hand. You made the mistake to look at him. His eyes were full of concern and pain.

“Y/N please don’t cry. Just let me explain.” A sigh escaped his lips as he wiped the falling tears with his thumbs. You were so tired, you didn’t want this, you didn’t want to fight, you didn’t want your life to crumble into pieces. Noticing you cooled off your nerves a little bit, he lifted your chin to look at you „What is it your are accusing me of exactly Y/N? And how do you know Agust-D?” he asked calmly.

Your whole body shook. This was really happening. Things were going down and there was no backing out now, you already put this all in motion. “That you’re a dirty cop… that he pulls the strings at the police department… as for how I know him it doesn’t matter. What matters is I found out about your ties with him Hoba… and that you lied”.

He stroke your cheek gently and shook his head. “I would think you knew me well by now Y/N. I am your fiancé for fuck sake… not some bum you just met… and when did I lie to you exactly hm? That I didn’t tell you one of my jobs is to work undercover? That we have a whole team working quietly trying to find out who actually is putting their hands in the cookie jar? I can’t speak much of these things Y/N! Same as you have your confidentiality with patients…”

The words that rolled off his tongue, smacked you out of your despair. You looked at him stunned, blinking the tears away. How did this not cross you mind? How did you not think that maybe there was something more behind this? That he could have been working? Why did you go straight into believing he was scum? You felt guilt crawl threw your soul. What were your thinking? Or more like - Why were you not thinking at all?

You looked at him, your bottom lip hanging down. You could feel like your whole brain was being rebooted. “I… I mean… they said… that…”. Hoseok tilted his head slightly, still holding your face in the palm of his hands. There was no anger in his gaze, just worry, confusion and a bit of sadness. “Who said what Y/N?” he asked patiently, waiting for you to finally explain your outburst.

“I… umm… the whole Agust-D thing… Jungkook he… he got mixed in with him… he saw you around his business…” you stuttered out, trying to collect your thoughts. You still could not shake off a very odd feeling. But why? It all made sense, of course Hobi was working. He was one of the best detectives. It wouldn’t be strange for him to be part of the team on such a case.

“Kook? What does he have to do with those people even? Is he taking?” you shook your head quickly in response “No, god no… It is more complicated then that, but it’s not my story to tell… I just knew about the gang and the whole situation from him…” you lied a bit. You didn’t know why but something in you was telling you not to put yourself out there. To keep in the fact that somehow, you got entangled with those criminals as well.

Hoseok gave you a slight stare, that showed he wasn’t satisfied with your evasive answer regarding your friends involvement. Luckily he seemed more worried about opening a whole new can of worms with you. Seeing you calmed down, had him decide poking at the subject wasn’t worth it. In the end he didn’t really give a fuck about your co worker. All that mattered was that you retreated from the battle.

“So… now that you calmed down… care to explain the - I was with your ‘friend Agust-D’?” Shit he remembered your words. Before you could stop yourself you simply lied threw your teeth “I was just throwing bullshit… I was with Kookie… he told me about the police… you and this gang and that Agust-D, whoever he is… so I decided the best line of attack was to throw shit at you… you know… get a reaction…” he sighed loudly clearly buying what you were selling. Never would you think you’d make such a good liar.

Question was why was your brain reacting this way? Hiding stuff from your partner? You didn’t really understand but the truth was, at this moment you didn’t want to answer those questions. You were tired, stressed and confused even more than before, so you decided to keep some cards to yourself. Your instincts rarely failed you and something was telling you there was more to the whole story. So you had to wait. Wait it all out, until you were absolutely sure about what you’re dealing with.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Warm beams of sunlight slowly crawled up to your face. Last night you and Hobi both decided to sleep off the whole argument and agreed if one or the other had any doubts or wanted to add something to the topic, you’d simply talk it threw again. As for now it would seem no one was in a rush to continue digging into the gang subject.

You smoothed your face with your hands slowly and squinted your eyes. Hoseok was nowhere to be found. A small note rested on his pillow. You skeptically grabbed the piece of paper in your fingers - “I will be back late today. No need to wait up for me. Love H.” You grimaced after reading the words. Somehow even when yesterday, he gave you a logic and what seemed like sincere explanation about his involvement, you still felt like something rubbed you the wrong way.

But then again you couldn’t be throwing away all the years of your relationship on a whim. There was the possibility that after all what happened with your best friend and how he dragged you into all this shit in the first place, you were just sceptic about everything. Keeping that in mind you decided to give yourself more time and try to trust Hobi, after all you had history together and it seemed only fair to both of you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

On your lunch break you decided to go out and eat with Jungkook. You wanted to question him about the whole “dirty cop” situation. If Hoseok was doing work of course he would play into the whole game to get the gangs trust. You felt the need to talk with your friend about it, since he was also involved in all of this. You wanted Kook to know Hobi was just doing his job. Or was it simply the fact of you wanting to believe that was the case?

Once you sat down and the waitress brought your drink, you looked at the tattooed brunet and sighed slightly stirring your glass “I confronted Hoseok…” you blurted out quietly. Your coworker coughed slightly and ran a hand threw his thick locks. Narrowing his brows he let out a “Oh…?” and waited for you to continue.

“Yea… he looked a bit shook at first as to how I even heard of this Agust-D… later he asked… I kind of twisted the facts and had him believe I never actually met the guy… but anyhow…” you took a sip of your iced yuzu tea and shot a short glance towards your friend who was waiting quietly. “He said he was doing undercover…” you finally let out the info.

Kook straightened himself in his chair and loudly let out a breath threw his nose, as if calming himself. He arched a brow looking at you in an analyzing manner. He was trying to figure you out. What were you thinking? Did you believe your fiancé? After a while he slightly shook his head and said “And you believe him?” his tone sounded slightly worried and annoyed.

You lowered your head and looked at the tips of your fingers. Should you be honest? Should you tell him how your feel deep down? He did drag you into this mess but he was honest about what his involvement was in the end. Also he did warn you about all the police. Playing with a loc of you hair you sighed “Honestly…? I do want to believe him… I mean it’s Hoba. We are together for years… for fuck sake we live together and he is my fiancé so of course part of me believes him… wants to believe him…”

You friend kept his gaze on you. He gave you a second to collect your thoughts and then in a quiet voice asked “But the other part?”. Looking straight forward, you bit your lip and whispered “Has a feeling that he is lying threw his teeth to save ass…”. Kook straightened himself making the chair squeak against the floor. He once again screened over you with his big eyes and then nodded “It’s understandable you want to believe best about someone you love… but if you also have doubts usually that is sign Y/N. To be frank… when I saw him around it never crossed my mind he was ‘working’ and well… I think our intuition usually gives us a correct view on things…” he sighed deeply and put his hand gently on yours.

You looked at his tattooed fingers trying to avoid his eyes. All this was too emotional. You wanted to believe - no, for now you believed in Hoseok’s version but also deep down something was chipping away at your heart. Your chest was getting tight and you could feel the stress flood over your body. Jungkook’s gentle squeeze brought you back to reality.

“Y/N for what it’s worth… I really hope you and I are just being overly suspicious and that your Jung is simply doing his job. As hard as it might be, best to not overthink it for now… let the situation play itself out. Truth will come to the surface, no matter what…” you smiled gently at those words. Doubts you had about talking to him were long gone. It was clear how much you needed to have someone in your circle. Someone who was also in this hellish loop with you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

The week flew by quickly. You took your friends advice to heart and tried not to overthink things. It was going quite well due to the fact you barely got to see Hoseok. He was having a busy time at work and so were you.

When Friday evening came you thought you would see more of your fiancé, but coming back to your apartment all you saw was again a note stating he is gonna be back late but that he would make it up to you tomorrow. You sighed a bit, and rubbed your neck. A wave of anxiety creeping up your spine. You could not shake off a weird feeling, that something was not right. Trying not to overthink it, you decided to cook something and watch a movie.

You were pouring yourself a next glass of wine while looking at the screen of your tv, when your heard you cellphone ring. Walking up to it you saw “Kookie” as the caller ID. Your brows arched up in surprise. It was already quite late. What could he want? Did something happen. “Kook? What’s up?” you answered in a bit surprised tone. A sigh on the other end greeted you and that was the moment you knew something had to be off.

“Y/N… turn to video call ok? But don’t freak out… and best sit down…” his voice was a bit shaken and he sounded nervous. You switched to video and what you saw on the screen left you dumbfounded. It was your fiancé talking up some girl, or more like clearly flirting. You could see Jungkook had to be standing in some corner, not wanting to be caught out from the crowd. Once looking around the people that were visible to your eyes, you could see a couple of figures you recognized. There was Joon, Tae and Jimin. They were close by Hoseok and some other officers you knew he worked with.

Blood rushed to your cheeks and then hit back down your body, leaving you pale as a wall. Your muscles started to shake as you felt rage well up within you. This was the “job” he was tending to? Your friend kept quiet on the other side. You let out a breath, you were holding for quite a while - he is just flirting maybe it does have to do something with work? As you were about to try and calm yourself down, you saw the girl run her hand down your fiancés back. He was laughing and giving her his charming smile. Then you saw her whisper something to his ear that made him smile even wider and wrap his hand around her waist.

You felt the veins in your brain pulse, your head was about to explode. Was he really doing this? The answer to that came fast. Saying something to the other men he walked away with the lady. There was no doubt about the intentions, just looking at the body language itself was enough of a tell. For a moment you could not make a sound. You were seeing red and about to scream for bloody murder. “Y/N… I’m so sorry…” you heard Jungkook say and switch off the video. Putting the phone to your ear you rasped “Send me the bar name… I’ll come there…” you shot out angry “He left…” you cut your friend off with a “And? I am not coming there for him Kook. I need a drink…”

Once you received the address you took a cab and walked into the loud, crowded club. Kook was waiting at the bar as he said. Next to him were already the three gang members. You took a deep breath seeing you friend shoot you an apologetic gaze, clearly not being too thrilled by who had joined him.

You on the other hand got an idea. You remembered Taehyungs comments about you being a hottie. As enraged as you were your mind spun to some wild places. You were not going to blow up Hobi’s phone, calling him out on what he did, telling him you know. No, you were so fed up with his now very clear lies, that you stopped to think reasonably. You were pissed, planning to get shitfaced and go home with some guy. Have fun without any strings attached. Tae seemed like a good choice, cocky, sure of himself and good looking. Hitting on him shouldn’t be too challenging for you.

Once you made way to the bar, Jungkook was already holding a drink for you in his hand. As you started to down the colorful liquid you felt eyes on you. “Wow doc… you seem thirsty?” a smooth and low voice came from behind you. Turning, you saw the tall handsome man you were just thinking about. “Oh you have no idea…” you say, your voice turning sultry, what earned you an arched brow from your friend and a crook smile from Tae.

Looking you up and down, he sat on the stool next to you, taking a sip of his whiskey “Any way I can help with the issue?” Jungkook was about to tell him off but you spoke before him “Actually… I think you just might have the solution”. Your coworker almost let out a shocked gasp, eyeing you if you were serious about your intentions. Once he understood that a line had been crossed with you, and this was some sort of petty revenge from your side and a way to let loose he only nodded his head, making clear he was not about to judge your choices.

Two cocktails later, you found yourself on the dance floor, swaying your body against the tall brunette. Things were slowing getting heated as he twirled you around and hugged your waist. His hard on, pressing against your ass. “Well I guess I can say today I am one lucky bastard…” he whispered into your ear while nibbling at your neck gently. As you closed your eyes with a slight hum and were about to answer, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pulling you from Tae’s grasp.

Your eyes shot open as your body slammed against someone. Looking up you met those familiar black eyes. Agust-D wast staring into your soul and before you could protest he glared at Taehyung who quickly disappeared, while raising his hands in defeat. “Really…?” the raven haired man asked in a low rumble. Rolling your eyes you ripped your hand out of his “What? You guys are in some sort of cult that does not allow you to fuck around?” he blinked a bit taken aback by your words. “I was calling you. Have you forgotten you still need to take those stitches out of me?”.

Taking the phone from your pocket, you stared at the screen. You saw one missed call from an unknown number. “First of all… as I recall we were to have an appointment tomorrow. Second of all, do you know what fucking time it is?” his eyes turned chilly, as he took a step closer. “Did you forget already what I told you? You’re hella out of luck Y/N!” and just like that, he grabbed you once again pulling you behind him.

His whole aura made you instantly shut up and stop arguing. You followed behind him, feeling that if he wanted he could wave you around like a rag-doll. He opened the door to his SUV for you, waiting that you to get in. Once you were sat inside, he got behind the wheel and drove off. You sat in silence, wondering if he was taking you to the gloomy hangar you despised so much. To your surprise, you ended up driving into one of Seoul’s most luxurious parts - UN Village.

Waiting if you were just driving by, you observed the fancy apartment buildings, threw the window. Suddenly he stopped under one of them and got out of the car. Walking to your side he opened your door and awaited for you to jump out. As you slid off the seat, you couldn’t stop looking amazed by the beautifully lit up neighborhood.

Without a word he started walking. You quickly followed, trying not to trip over your own feet, from how surprised you were. He let you inside one of the apartments. It was huge, clean and modernly styled. You stood in the hallway, blinking your eyes. Of course he had to be loaded. He was the head of one of the main gangs of the city. You just did not expect him to chose such a fancy place to live.

Trying not to look overly impressed you said “I don’t have my medical bag with me…” you barely finished the statement and he threw a med kit on the small coffee table in front a huge couch. You walked up slowly, looking over the whole spacious living room. The place looked like from a magazine.

You were brought back to reality once you saw him unbutton his black shirt. Gulping, you averted your eyes from him. “Since you were so upset with the last place, I decided to fulfill you demands on decent workplace…” he said and then asked “Where do you want me?” still a bit stunned, you blurted without thinking “Sit on the couch” and then it hit you that your choice would put you in a uncomfortable position, but it was too late. He had already sat down, with his shirt wide open.

You slightly coughed, trying to think of how to handle the situation. You ended up deciding to sit yourself on the coffee table in front of him. Your slim fingers grabbed at the kit and took out a pair of small scissors and tweezers. Deciding to not utter a word, you hovered yourself over his abdomen and started taking out the stitches.

“Seems like you took the doctors orders a bit more seriously this time…” you finally spoke, earning a slight laugh from him. “Is there an award for good behavior? A lollipop or something?” he chimed in a graveled voice. Felling your face burn you cleared your throat. The alcohol was log gone from your system at this point and so was all the sass you had before.

Once you took the last suture out, you straightened yourself and let out a short breath. “All done…” you said quietly trying not to look at him, but then you felt his fingers push away a loose strand of your hair. “Are you? All done?” he asked in a low voice. Your heart was about to jump out of your chest, as confident as you felt around a guy like Taehyung, Agust-D was a whole different story.

All you could stutter out was a “Mhm… I think…?” still not looking at him, you heard him shift at his spot. He leaned in closer. His breath brushed over your neck and ear as he said “I think you are lying… You looked determined at the club to take my guy out with you…” a tingle went down your whole body as you took a deep breath, trying to regain yourself. “Yea… I still might…”

He chuckled at those words and moved even closer to you, whispering in your ear so close that you could feel his lips over your skin “Well I believe he would leave you disappointed. He wouldn’t be able to handle a woman like you…” you finally dared to gaze at him. He looked a bit amused by your reactions, what made you bite back a bit “Oh and you would know?”.

It was all he needed to feel provoked and grab you by the waist, pulling you onto his lap. “Yea, you are surely needy… and not such a delicate flower as some might think. Truth be told I believe you like a challenge don’t you?”. With that he wrapped one of his hands gently around your neck, causing you to quietly gasp and throw your head back a bit. “See?” you could hear he was smiling. You were so angry at yourself, at how you reacted to him, at how your brain wast starting to be clouded by all the lust he was flaming up in you.

tags: @wobblewobble822 @nansasa @nochook @kootieful @kooslilhoe @yoongisducky @xjiminsthighsx @danielle143 @llallaaa @idkjustlovingbts @darcyw16 @missussally-blog @honsoolgloss @nochuel @kaitieskidmore1 @starrlo0ver @geek-lara-nerd @jwnghyuns @xyahrinx @acquiescence804

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