Summary: She was the Queen of Sokovia, and he was the future king of Romania. Their relationship was full of hate towards one another, but will it change when his heart gets broken by a traitor to both of your powerful countries?
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1025
A/N: Here is the first full part! Both taglists are open. Please leave feedback. This is going to break my heart.
Sokovia was her home. She grew up running through the
beautiful landscapes with her siblings. She grew up knowing that one day all
the fields and towns would be hers to rule, but of course that came with a
price. It was one she was willing and prepared to pay. A loveless marriage was
the consequence of being Queen. She always knew that, but it still didn’t make
the price any easier.
Since the early age of three she had known her future
husband. James Buchanan Barnes was his name. He was the future king of Romania.
She would take her thrown before him because her parents were set to stand down
from the thrown on her seventeenth birthday. Bucky was set to take the thrown
one year after her.
au where otabek had stayed to train with yakov. yuri grows up developing a sort of one sided rivalry with him. otabeks jumps may be higher, his stamina stronger, but yuri takes his revenge on the bar. he smirks when he catches the older boy staring at his splits with unbridled awe.
but, much to yuri’s annoyance, otabek quits ballet early on. it is almost unheard of in a figure skater, but yakov sees something in the young kazakh boy and allows him to find his own path. otabek trains three times as hard as any of them, and it shows. his skating is strong and powerful, laced with a desperation that can only emerge from sheer will power.
it makes yuri feel weak. he may be a prodigy, but even all the natural talent in the world cannot make people stop and stare the way they do with otabek. envy is not an unfamiliar emotion to yuri, but it’s not just the kazakhs skating. otabek has always seemed to know who he was, unlike yuri, who from the start has had to bear the brunt of comparisons to former russian champions (thank you very much viktor).
of course this only makes yuri itch to pick a fight with him, but from the very beginning otabek responds to his taunting with affectionate amusement. they’re not exactly friends, and although yuri would love to call them rivals, otabek looks way too fucking proud anytime yuri clinches gold above him. all yuri knows is that when he looks at otabek, his heart aches for something he cannot quite put into words.
You didn’t know how long it’d been or even what time of day it was, there was no way of telling whether it was day or night in the god forsaken warehouse. Cardboard lined the lower and higher windows taking away any signs of the outside world.
Your hands were tightly bound to the armrests of the chair where you were sure some ghastly wounds were to appear tomorrow, if you even made it to see tomorrow which you found yourself doubting.
You were beginning to become lightheaded from lack of food and serious dehydration. Last time you’d eaten was only hours before you were mercilessly pulled from your boyfriend, Daryl’s arms by the oh so kind people of terminus.
You held Daryl’s hand tightly as Rick tried to discuss a plan with the rest of the group that was currently being held like caged animals. Although you were having trouble listening due to your serious anxiety.
“We need to use every little resource we have as a weapon, everything counts” Rick spoke, power and hop laced his voice as always.
The doors were suddenly swung open and Gareth took a few steps in. It looked like he was assessing your group, his eyes landing on each one of you for a few moments before landing on you.
“You two haven’t left each other’s side once” he smirked wickedly
3 men walked towards you and grabbed you roughly, but daryl wasn’t going to give up that easy.
“Don’t touch her!” he growled harshly kept a tight grip on your hand, this only lasted a few seconds. 2 men successfully ripped his hand away from you and dragged you out into the open, away from your boyfriend and friends and away from any form of comfort you once held.
After hours of being tortured by Gareth and his ‘minions’ they had finally given up. You refused to ’be one of them’, you refused to give them what they wanted.
So here you were, tied to a chair in the middle of a warehouse. Oh and did you mention you’d just endured seeing a living, breathing man be sawed to pieces and ‘stored’ for later like some kind of meat product? It made you worry for the fate of your surviving friends and family.
Gareth stalked back in and you got mentally prepared for another round of interrogation before you quickly noticed the figures being dragged from behind him, bound and gagged and totally out of consciousness, your friends.
“What did you do to them” you growl harshly and tug on your restraints seeing Daryl’s lifeless body
“Just knocked em out for a bit, relax” Gareth told you, a smirk playing on his psychotic features like he somehow found pleasure out of this sick behaviour
One by one the group of men woke, they all looked slightly confused at first but quickly came to realisation.
“What did you do to her” Daryl snapped noticing the few bruises and cuts littering your skin, some from Gareth’s minions and some from fighting the dead
“Daryl, relax, i’m okay” you reassured him with tears running down your bruised cheeks
“We thought it’d make this a little more interesting if we had the princess over here watch. Maybe then it’ll change her mind about joining us” One of the men laughed and swung a big, metal bat over his shoulders
Your head was racing a million miles per hour.
They knocked off the boy at the end, before moving on and so forth draining the blood from the once lively bodies. They were coming closer and closer to your people. You began trying your best to get the ropes untied without any of the men noticing but without much luck, you were starting to accept your sad fate.
Daryls eyes locked with yours and you mouthed the words ‘i love you’, if you were all going to die today you wanted him to know just how much he meant to you.
Suddenly what sounded like bombs or gun shots went off from outside the compound, Glenn only seconds away from being knocked into darkness was spared for a few more moments.
From then on all chaos broke loose. You felt a knock to the head before screams erupted, you begin fading in and out of consciousness and were now practically deafened by whatever was going on outside.
“D-Daryl?” You stutter, trying to get the words out and ignore the big, black spots that seemed to be appearing in your vision.
“Let’s get you out of here darlin” he said and cut through the ropes that held you still. You could barely register what was going on when you felt yourself being lifted into his arms. Something was dripping down your forehead and it took you a moment before you realised it was blood, your own blood. That’s when the pain hit.
Dead bodies littered the path, gun shots ran through the air. The whole scene ahead of you was something purely out of a nightmare.
“I’ve got ya, we’re gonna get out of here” Daryl muttered. Somehow he was managing to carry your almost limp body and kill the dead at the same time.
“W-we made it?” you ask, Your voice sounding rough and scratchy
When Alex, Chase, Gert, Karolina, Molly, and Nico witness their parents (“The Pride”) sacrifice a girl in an occult ceremony, the group runs off. The children learn of their heritage and abilities, and steal resources from their parents, including futuristic gauntlets, a dinosaur, and a mystical Staff. They become the Runaways in Runaways #1 (April 16, 2003). Using these resources, they manage to remove their parents from their criminal hold of Los Angeles, but they lose Alex in the final battle, due to Alex’s true loyalty to his parents. With the Pride defeated, the Runaways now vow to prevent other villains from filling in the void left by their parents. They eventually meet cyborg Victor Mancha and shape-shifting alien Skrull Xavin, and invite them to join the team. Right before the Runaways defeat a new incarnation of the Pride and Alex’s resurrected father, Gertrude is fatally wounded. Before she passes, she transfers her power to control Old Lace to Chase.
Prompt: ‘your soulmate’s hair colour is the colour of your eyes. the colour of your eyes also changes to match the colour of their hair if they dye it’ with Warren please!
Note: Ahhhhh yes! I love all these soulmate ideas and angel is rad! Please send in more requests.
Warnings: lil bit of language but that’s it.
Red. That was the only word swirling through Warrens mind as he stared intensely into the mirror that hung on his wall. Over night his eyes had went from a subtle hazel to red. Not a bright red but a dark crimson red. Warren let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his hand through his shaggy blond hair. ‘Out of every colour they chose red.’ Warren though shaking his head.
He sluggishly moved away from the mirror and made his way to the door. Giving the door a gentle tug before entering into the hallway, groups of children flocking towards their class. Warren kept his head down in an attempt to draw focus away from his eyes.
So far he had managed to make it all the way to the danger room for training with the rest of the x-men without anyone noticing. So close. He opened the door, eyes immediately falling on the group of teens quietly conversing in a circle. He walked over slowly, eyes glued to the floor.
“Jesus we were beginning to think you weren’t gonna show bird-boy.” Peter smirked nudging him slightly.
“Yeah I guess I just lost track of time.” Warren shrugged.
That wasn’t a complete lie, he just chose to leave out the part about spending an hour in front of the mirror contemplating his soulmate’s decision of hair colour.
“Well know that you’re here we can…” Scott paused cocking an eyebrow at Warren before anger consumed his features. “Oh very funny Warren!” he laughed humourlessly.
“Wha-,” Warren glanced at the others but they all looked just as confused.
Warnings: blood, character death, angst, it’s just… sad.
You gripped your side as a searing pain shot through you.
Before you could gasp for another breath, you fell to the cold gravel road. You
peered up at the smirking demon as you struggled to hold your insides inside.
The demon chuckled as he stowed his knife away, then vanished
into the cool dusk air. “Cas…” you mumbled as you coughed up blood.
I heard.... you like some good ole ash *Holds up a jar of ash* well here she is hehehe
The fucking implication does not go unnoticed.
The Author stares at the jar outstretched to him a silent, tense moment.
Until his eyes raise to the asker - and those eyes, those eyes. So keen and sharp and cold and pissed off to all hell. They flash with the light of a twisted fucking genius, one with the power to break down lives and build up monsters and tear apart families and no remorse at all.
Forehead knit together, a furious snarl reverberates in his throat. And he leans forward, hands that committed atrocity after atrocity sliding down the faux leather of his chair until they grip the end, a destructive vice grip that nearly breaks through the armrest. And he’s leaning over his desk, those eyes locked on the asker unmoving.
And narration begins to leave him in a voice so gruff and growling, each word laced with power that rips away control of everything the asker thought they had control over.
“They had approached him so confident, so mocking with that assured mentality. Perhaps they did not know of the terrors committed in the office they entered, perhaps they had no idea of the consequences the writer before them could and would act upon. And in that moment that the words reach their ears, everything they believes gives them the right to kill one of his muses, approach him and mock him shove it all in his face - it crashes to the floor. Their limbs don’t move when new panicked thoughts scream at them to bolt out the door; no. Their limbs belong to The Author now.”
“And those limbs, those fingers, they don’t obey the thundering heart - they raise to face, trembling with a terror they have never felt ever in their life. Because there is no terror that can be compared to the feeling of confidence being ripped away in the face of power beyond belief.”
“And those trembling fingers, they raise towards the eyes - and they plunge into the flesh.”
“Scream after scream after scream of absolute pain and terror, their heart wants to burst from their chest and their knees want to buckle as blood splashes over their own hands but they continue, continue digging, continue scraping and pulling and making sure every last nerve gets tortured to its fullest and hooking around the back of that orb and pushing them out of their own damn sockets. That symphony of screams would invoke no mercy; and when the muscle rips away and those orbs pop out with a sickening sound, finally their hands fall to their sides. And the asker that dared to kill one of his muses and think they could get away with it - well, it would be a lot damn harder to ever harm one of them again.”
And The Author stands, glaring down at the broken form, at blood and empty eye sockets.
“Get the fuck out. And let this be a lesson to everyone to never fuck with one of my muses again.”
Big news coming in today as we have an official confirmation for the release of the Nike “Air Mag” by Tinker Hatfield.
For those who don’t know, The Nike Air Mag became popular in the movie “Back To The Future II” as main character Marty McFly wore these sick kicks on his wild adventure.
In the movie the sneaker was equipped with power laces something that its previous 2011 release didn’t have. So now the Nike Air Mag is back in 2015 to celebrate the year McFly traveled into the future with the coveted power laces!
We haven’t been given an official release date, but some are speculating a release in September.
Stay tuned to SoleLoveNYC for more pictures and release information
I created this blog purely so I could wade into the shitfest that is the Reylo vs anti Reylo conflict. I’ve never been super involved in a large fandom before, so have never witnessed this much childish sniping and hand-wringing over frickin’ pairings. Never. I’m torn between being amused and appalled, with a leaning towards the latter.
The central position of the anti Reylo crowd seems to be that it’s utterly abhorrent and unequivocally wrong to ‘ship’ Kylo Ren and Rey because the dynamic between them is fundamentally abusive and unhealthy. There is no room for nuance or qualification with this position, which seems to mostly consist of people going ‘ugh incest’ (which isn’t even the case - yet) or blindly branding Reylo shippers despicable rape/abuse apologists and racists.
What these people - that is to say those who utterly reject any exploration of a Rey/Kylo relationship - fail to understand is that, when it comes to art and fiction, the happy and uncomplicated relationships are generally the least interesting to explore and write about. So while Rey and Finn are sweet together and are very clearly the most ‘canon’ ship in the film, that’s pretty much all there is to them - they are a cute potential couple. This is text in the film, and you’re meant to leave it with that impression. Everything about their relationship is clearly telegraphed and evident to everyone in the audience. There is little uncertainty or conflict, especially by the end of the film, and that’s why it has proven to be a less popular ship than the far more tenuous Reylo. It has absolutely nothing to do with racism, which is a truly bizarre and misguided accusation that has become alarmingly widespread.
Reylo, meanwhile, is more attractive to many people because it’s inherently dramatic. This, in turn, means it’s ripe for exploration and analysis. The characters involved are fundamentally opposed - Rey on the light side, Kylo on the dark side - but are both shown to be drawn to and attracted by the other side (Kylo confesses that he struggles to resist the pull of the light, while Rey, in the novelisation, is seemingly empowered by the dark side during her fight with Kylo). In line with this, Kylo is very clearly shown to be fascinated and impressed by Rey - he treats her in a comparatively gentle, almost courtly, manner, and is clearly drawn to her power and mystery.
The unique nature of the relationship is demonstrated by the torture scenes with Kylo and Poe and Kylo and Rey, which are very clearly meant to be contrasted and compared - both have the hero strapped to the same torture device, and both are interrogations. While Kylo is mercenary, impersonal and pitiless with Poe, he is sensitive, personal and intimate with Rey - he calls her his “guest” and reveals his true face to her in a blink to prove that he isn’t the monster she imagines him to be. Rey, who has only exchanged a few words with him, can compel Kylo to remove his mask and reveal his true self to her - it’s a deeply powerful gesture laced with significance and resonance, and it’s quite literally the stuff that ships are made of.
Rey, for her part, is clearly shocked to find that her kidnapper is a young man with a vulnerable and open face, not all that different from herself. I wouldn’t go as far as some and say that she appears attracted to him when she sees his face revealed, but she’s very clearly shocked and taken aback. There is more to him than her mental image of a wicked monster only interested in committing evil for evil’s sake.
While none of this in any way excuses Kylo’s abusive and cruel behaviour, it ought to at least put the fascination with the Rey/Kylo dynamic into perspective. People are, generally speaking, not fascinated by the relationships that are safe, normal and sweet - relationships fraught with danger, conflict and complexity exert a far greater and more fundamental appeal. It’s why Wuthering Heights, a textbook example of a poisonous and mutually destructive relationship, is still compelling over 100 years later.
I absolutely do understand criticism of the tendency to completely ignore the problematic aspects of the Reylo ship, which are manifold and undeniable (the people who criticise the ship on this basis are not the target of this post, btw). But no one’s naive and blanket moral judgements are going to remove the appeal of a dynamic that is fundamentally dramatic and emotionally and sexually charged. You might as well throw out the entire literary canon for failing to meet your rigid set of moral standards.