#ive never had this much love and fuel for any of my ocs before so this really is so wild to me like i never celebrate oc bdays

[coulrology]

Very big day for a very annoying person (me)

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The Final Bow (Inglourious Basterds Fic)

Requested by @baldwin-iv​ "Hello, hope you are well. If it isn't too much trouble, I was wondering if you could do Donny meeting an Italian nationalist who works with Hans Landa during operation Kino. Thank you!"

A/N: Changed it up a little, sorry luv, it just felt weird to make it xReader so I made an OC :)

@owba-chan​ @war-obsessed​ @inglourious-imagines​ @tealaquinn​ @struggling-bee​ @frozenhuntress67​ @kwyloz​ @sodapop182​

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

_____________________________ Renatta Castelluccio was Hans Landa's escort to the premiere of Nation's Pride. He pulled her away from the crowd, and led her to meet her counterparts. Bridget von Hammersmark's  escorts.

Renatta knew exactly who they were. How could she forget the man with the scar across his throat? He dropped into her town in Italy, just before she left for Germany. Her father was a high ranking officer under Mussolini, and used her as a pawn in negotiations. She'd grown up with that regime, and believed every word of every poster and incendiary reel until she left, and saw what fascism really meant, along with the innocent blood it shed. She was contacted by the OSS, and given a chance to be a spy, and help the allies, but she feared facing a firing squad, and quickly declined. She never spoke up, not at home, and not in Germany. Renatta spent every waking moment of her life drowning in guilt, knowing what she once stood for, and what it all had led to. Still, she was smothered in fear of what would happen if she ever said a word. She was a coward, and knew she was just as guilty as the killers. Years of silence, passive smiles, and polite nods led her to this point. She could cry, beg for forgiveness from the basterds themselves, but, for what? Ruin whatever plan they undoubtedly had? "Banwjor-no." She decided once again to stay silent. She knew Hans wanted to use her to humiliate their attempt to pass off as Italians. "Graht-see."

Her eyes welled up. Once again, a pawn in a plan to fuel hate filled speeches and regimes.  She tilted her head up, looking at the blood stained banners and stolen art  planted there by the nazis. She knew she was no better than them. Renatta Castelluccio, an accessory to crime against her own nation, and a  spineless, voiceless pit of shame and regret. Her eyes fell on Donny. He was trying his best, she knew, but his eyes were momentarily fixated on her leg, peeking through a slit in her emerald green dress. She glanced hurriedly at her escort, Hans Landa, who she despised with what was left of her soul. He'd repeatedly proposed to her, and she always politely refused, saying it was not right to marry during war. Secretly, she hoped he would die in the war, or would be charged with war crimes. He didn't notice Donny's wandering gaze, he was too busy being amused at the way they pronounced their fake names. "Margherittiiiiiiiii."

Renatta half smiled, though her heart beat in her throat, as she wished to find a way to help them, and for once do something right. Soon after Landa sent the basterds on their way. As he plotted his way into Operation Kino and a path to Nantucket Island, he sent Renatta to her seat as well. Donny lagged a little behind Omar, as a crowd of drinking nazis and half naked women merged between them. Donny couldn't take a chance and call out to Omar. It was unecessary attention. But, as he waited to make his way in, he felt a hand on his arm, pulling him back. Omar turned around, and saw. He raised an eyebrow, and cheekily smirked a little, before disappearing into the theater. He turned and saw Renatta, as she pulled Donny back, into an office away from the crowd. Donny grinned, trying to hide his nerves, "Buongio-" She shook her head, "I know who you are." "Uh... Sì...Antonio Marg-" "You're not Italian, I know..." She smiled softly, stepping closer to him, and touching the side of his cheek, "You're a basterd..." Before he could react, she said everything she had to amidst pleas and kisses. She told him all about Landa, how to go about it, "Whatever your plan is, he is the one you can not underestimate." Donny frowned, his hands around her waist, and pulled his head back a little, "Why are you telling me this?" Renatta looked down, and saw Donny pressing a gun against the bottom of her rib cage. She shook her head, "Because I have seen things that could've been pages from the Inferno." Donny had never read it, but it didn't sound good. "Things that should never be, sergeant..." Donny at that moment, looked into her eyes. If what people said about eyes being the window to the soul was true, then all he could see was a terrified one. "I once had the intention of being an informant for the allies, but I was a coward...Whenever I opened my mouth, no words came out. So all I've done for years is stand by. Stand by and-" Tears streamed down her cheek, and Donny tilted his head to the side, absolutely confused. He didn't feel sympathy. Not for a former fascist.  But he wanted to listen, and make sure he could trust her enough about Landa. "I've stood by and said nothing. Sometimes that's worse than actually pulling a trigger...just letting it happen. I never said..." She trailed off, looking away in shame, patting her eyes with  the back of her black satin covered hands. "Never said what?" "I never said no." He stared at her blankly, not knowing what to make of it at all, "No. Such a powerful word," She laughed softly, pathetically, as she wiped away a silent tear. "It gets you killed here, there, these day. 'No'...that could have saved at least one life. Just one..." "Why are you telling me this?" "You're a basterd, everyone that's someone to the nazis is here. You have a plan, and I want to make sure Hans doesn't stop you." "I got it.” He nodded, and reluctantly sighed,  “Go, now." "Wh...what are you talking about?" Never in her life had anyone given Renatta a second chance. "If what you say is true, this guy Landa's gonna be more worried about me and the boys than where you are. You have enough time to get out, and get far away without anyone here noticing." He fully stepped away from her, let go of her waist, and lowered his gun. He had all the information he needed. Kisses and bullets wouldn't be necessary. She shook her head. No one on either side of the war would show her any kind of mercy close to that. "I'll be shot for this, no matter how this turns out." Donny sighed, knowing the clock was ticking, and that she was right. She may have just betrayed Hans Landa, but it was not enough of a saving grace outside of Le Gamaar. He took one look at her, and saw a short, unlived life. Short enough to only have known regimes and gunfire. She looked directly into his eyes, "No matter how this turns out, what I do, I will die. Let me stay." "Stay?" "Let me watch these regimes burn," She pleaded softly, and whispered, "Senza gloria..." He shook his head, "No. Go. Get to somewhere safe..." He couldn't believe he'd just said that, but he couldn't take it back now. He looked at her, that cowardly mess, and thought if she saw Hans, she'd backtrack and fess up again. To stop that from happening, he needed her out of the theater.  "Don't go looking for Landa. Get it?" She smiled, for the first time in years, without her lips being pulled by strings of manipulation, "Grazie..." They went their ways, and Donny sat with Omar in the theater. Omar chuckled, and whispered, "Signorina?" Donny shook his head, trying to sound Italian as possible,  "Gone-o." Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Aldo and Bridget hadn't shown up, and it was almost show time. He eased his way back out, and stood at the top of the stairs, looking down over the balcony, searching for a sign of Aldo or Bridget. Instead, he saw Renatta again. She was in the lobby, speaking to Hans. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but he understood that she didn't listen to Donny. What's more, Donny couldn't trust her anymore.

By default, he had to believe she broke down and told Hans about their conversation. The clock was ticking.

Donny and Omar didn't have time for this. He turned his back, and made his way back to get Omar so they could go on with Operation Kino. With or without Aldo and Bridget, this had to be done. What Donny didn't see was Renatta taking a stand for the first time in her life. She slipped Hans' gun out of his pocket. He looked down at her, eyes wide in betrayal, but his lips twisted, "You wouldn't dare, my love. You've always been so pathetic." As tears streamed down her face, he smirked, his hand reaching over the barel of the gun, "You wouldn't, you cowar-" One single gunshot, drowned out by the crowd and the reel of propaganda. One single bullet, tearing through Landa's hand, and straight through his skull. He dropped to his knees, and looked up at her, blood pouring through his nose and mouth in a betrayed, final gargled breath. She looked down for a few moments, watching as blood pooled out slowly, and collected beneath her heels, staining the bottom of her trailing dress. This was the first and only blood she did not feel sorry for. Renatta walked back up the stairs, and made her way to the opera box, without her escort, and without an ounce of regret. In a moment, smoke appeared, along with a face on the screen, with a message and a plot for revenge.

  Renatta didn't understand what was happening. But she didn't mind. She leaned back, and smiled softly with a sigh, "Che spettacolo...." 'What a show...' She watched as regimes fell before her very eyes in a blaze, as she waited to meet her end. It came unexpectedly, in a suit, and a fit of rage.

Donny Donowitz stood before her, cornering her in the opera box, "I gave you a chance." She didn't know why he suddenly seemed to retract his mercy, but she didn't question it. Whatever anger Donny felt was justified in her eyes. So, when he shot her, she said nothing. 

She looked up at him, no blame or reproach in her eyes as her blood pooled through her dress and trickled down. She took a breath, and turned away from him, and for a moment, watched the war end before her eyes. In a few moments, the entire high command was gone. Donny joined Omar back on the stairs, and were on their way out of the theater, when Donny saw a body face down in the middle of the lobby. Omar panicked, "ALDO?!" Donny shook his head, "It's not a white suit..." He ran up, and turned the body over, revealing Hans Landa's cold, dead eyes, and twisted grin. Omar looked to Donny again, "Maybe Aldo did this." Aldo would have scalped or marked him. Donny knew that. "It wasn't him..." His eyes widened with realization. The last person he saw with Hans was Renatta. It had to be her. "Go. I'll meet you outside." "What?!" Donny pushed Omar toward the exit, "I forgot something. Go, now! That's a fucking order." Omar had no choice. He walked through the smoke and disappeared. Donny ran back to the opera box, the flames nearly reaching it. "Renatta." Her eyes were beginning to close, her breathing beginning to slow, and blood pooled beneath her.  Donny was about to step into the box, but she shot up with what was left of her breath, "No!" "You killed Hans. You...you didn’t lie to me, you-" He stepped onto the box, and heard a low, loud rumble as Renatta pleaded, "Stay back!" He stopped in his tracks. If he stepped over to get her, the opera box would collapse and fall into the fire below. He crouched down, "Ok, crawl to me, we still have time. We have four minutes." She shook her head, struggling to breathe. She could hardly move. There was no more time for her. "It's too late for me, s-sergeant. Don't w-wait for me." "You don't...you don't know that!" She lifted her eyes to look at him, and saw a shade of remorse. She shook her head slowly, trying to convince him, "I'll slow you down. You have time, I don't." "I'm...I'm sorry..." She shook her head again, smiling kindly at him. He could barely hear her voice over the roar of the fire, and the last few screams below, "Don't ever be sorry for what you've done here, soldier..." She gasped for a breath, "You're a g-good man." His head tilted to the side, as he spoke softly, "Renatta..." She pulled herself up, the balcony beginning to rumble lowly again. Renatta held on to the banister of the opera box, and looked over at the hellfire, watching the final few below writhe and scream, "Leave me here. There is no other place for a coward like me on this earth." "Don't..." She turned her head a little, not enough to meet him face to face again, just enough to see him out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't you understand? No matter what happened tonight, I was not going to survive the end of the war." She looked back out at the fire devouring the cinema and the high command, "Let me go," She shut her eyes and whispered, "Senza gloria... I deserve nothing more than this..."

"Renatta." "You have a minute left. Don't waste a lifetime for an inglourious moment with me." He nodded slowly and backed away from the creaking opera box. He reached the closest staircase, and looked back. All he could hear was the rumbling of the opera box, the roar of the fire, and Renatta whispering once again, “Senza gloria...” In her last moments, Renatta held her head up high, watching her impending inglourious fate approach her in silence. blood dripping down her dress, with one final smile, she watched the curtains close: The nazis' banners falling into the fire below. He left her, and made his way back outisde. He stood across the street with Omar, waiting for the grand finale. Omar broke the eerie silence as smoke began to rise above the street, "You let the Italian girl go, didn't you?" He didn’t see Donny shoot her. Donny nodded, "Yeah." Donny watched as the smoke rose, and knew that Renatta was right. No matter what he did, or she did, she was not going to live past the end of the war. No matter what happened, whether or not Operation Kino fell through, she would have been executed by the winner of the war. If the basterds failed, she would be killed as a traitor, and if they succeeded and she ran away, she’d be killed as a collaborator. She got out of it, and it was what she wanted most, to finally speak up. They watched as the cinema took its final bow, in a blaze of vengeance and ashes of atonement.

Donny nodded with a sigh, and a soft smile, hearing her voice one last time, as though it came with the wind that fueled the flames, "Senza gloria..."

[cozyteez]

Hii, do u have any tips for writing fics?? I’m so used to writing research reports, lab reports, and formal essays that creative writing has become something I really struggle with. I guess it’s having the freedom to write anything and not knowing how to make sure it’s not corny. I tried outlining a fic one time but it was so frustrating LOLOLOL. Anyways, I love your ateez fics. They are so cute and creative!!

hi !!!! im like rlly touched u asked me and i feel u actually that's why i started this blog; im a biomedical engineering major so as u can imagine i dont get to take much creativity with what i write because writing papers and reports and proposals are so formulaic and u gotta stick to the facts so that being said i actually tested out of all my college writing classes so all my writing knowledge is from ap english in hs lmao so take it w many grians of salt

the #1 thing i do when im feeling sort of unmotivated about a story or maybe like like dragging myself thru mud to write it is to just write the "fun" part first. to me the fun part is usually the climax or maybe the like the "wouldn't it be cute if..." moment that came to mind that inspired me to write a blurb in the first place! then usually once i sort of get the ball rolling on that my brain will help me out and keep the momentum going by thinking of maybe "oohh okay maybe this can happen next" or "oohh and what if this led up to it" or !! just stop there !! something ive learned from my mx writing blog which is like a year older than this one was that you don't owe anybody context especially for a blurb so maybe it really is just 3 sentences of a cute moment u thought of like its whatever ur the one writing it

now for longer fics im going to be honest jongho's first love is my first and only completed attempt at a multi stage coherent story. and that was fueled purely based on the fact that when i look at jongho he just gives off sort a really excited sort of innocence that i wanted to further explore and personify through the idea of him experiencing love for the first time but even then i really struggled w the last part because that's where my personal experience stopped and i had basically nothing to go off of because ive never been in love so i did have to kinda wait for ideas to come to me. for prince yunho i have posted 4 chapters but have all the way through chapter 15 drafted. and by drafted i mean it's like 3 sentences of the overall idea. again, the fic was inspired by the duality between yunho's on stage vs. off stage persona where if somebody was to watch an ateez performance for the first time they may find him very serious and maybe even intimidating but atiny would know that his off stage persona (the one he choses to create for us anyways) is very silly and happy-go-lucky and approachable, which is why prince yunho is seen as narameth's strong and stoic pride and joy but in reality he's sort of clumsy but means well. so i let that and his relationship w xenia who is an original character (OC) sort inspire stories or interactions that i force into a plot line. so for example i believe when i first started thinking abt a prince au for yunho i thought "wouldn't it be funny if the first scene started out painting him as this strong and serious man and then cut to him choking on food or something" and that sort of inspired the idea of him being nervous abt the speech and then xenia came out of that because he needed a complementary character imo since i knew he was gonna be kind of one dimensional and then his backstory with xenia inspired other ideas and then one day i was sad and wanted a hug so that inspired a piece of the plot line and so on. so basically: let an idea or even an aspect of somebody come to you and just write it down, let it inspire other ideas. and don't be afriad to completely start over. i wrote a whole chapter for prince yunho and deleted the whole thing because i hated where it was going and started back from scratch. sometimes you have to revisit things abt your characters and their relationships with others to get a new idea. there's a story in every person and every relationship you just have to find the clues

here's an example of what i mean by "write the good part first". this is typically what the very first draft of a blurb will look like for me

((( blah blah blah basically its raining and y/n is sad bc wooyoung broke her heart two weeks ago idk maybe go into it maybe not)))

y/n is all sad and feeling sorry for themselves on the couch theyre past crying but still feel pretty shitty plus it's storming and cold outside. great

there's a knock on their door ofc they have the cliche "who could that be moment" even tho they lowkey know. we literally all know

so yeah wooyoung's there soaked in rain eyes puffy y/n thinks he's been crying

-this would be the "fun part". i'll fix all that garbage up top later or maybe even change it completely idk yet-

"y/n? i - uh. hi"

he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck while you crossed your arms over your chest, fighting the urge to close the door and walk away for good

"hi? really wooyoung? is that the best you can do?"

(((wooyoung does smth idk)))

"well i just -"

"you just what? showed up here in the rain after you broke my heart and didn't even bother to tell me why? this isn't some romance movie, asshole. you can't just come here late at night and expect to find me all sad and willing to take you back because i'm not. so say what you're gonna say so i can get back to my life"

your face was red hot and you trying very hard, probably too hard, to fight back tears. ((( idk talk some more abt y/n's emotions then what wooyoung is doing)))

"look, i made a mistake i-"

"oh my god! why did i know you were gonna do this. i just knew as soon as i saw you-"

"will you let me get a fucking word in!?"

well that was new. in the entire time you'd known him he had never raised his voice at you like that, your shock causing you to immediately close your mouth and fold your arms back into yourself (((make y/n seem more scared))) noticing your reaction, he lowered his voice back down and instictively reached for you, heartbroken at the way you jerked away from his touch

"please y/n, i'm sorry. i didn't mean to raise my voice it's just that i need to tell you that i regret what i did i regret breaking up with you so fucking much and you don't have to take me back i just need you to know how much you meant, no, mean to me. i still love you, a lot. there's not a day, an hour, a minute, or a single second that goes by that i'm not thinking of you"

"then why?"

your voice was small and wavering, your tears now dangerously close to spilling down your cheeks

"why what?"

"why did you break up with me like that, just all of a sudden"

he pushed his hands into his pockets and looked away

"because that morning i woke up before you and when i looked at you asleep next to me, i saw myself spending the rest of my life with you and it scared the shit out of me"

"why did it scare you?"

"because i just figured you didn't feel the same. i was selfish and wanted to save myself heartbreak down the line and so i told you i didn't wanna be with you anymore, but that was a mistake because it turns out i can't function with out you, i can't breathe without you i can't live without you, y/n. i shouldn't have let you go"

tears were now freely flowing down your face (((okay brain no work anymore y/n kisses him duh and then ofc they make up wooyoung prob says smth cheesy and y/n is like ur lucky i love you or smth ahaha the end)))

tl;dr -> don't be afraid to get messy. creative writing is not nearly as structured as academic/scientific writing. write whatever u want first it can even be the middle of a huge fight scene or some dialogue u think is funny. if ur stuck read what you have or maybe just take a break and let an idea come to you. a story doesnt have to come together til the very end so it can be as messy and out of order as u want until u wanna post it. also i would always use the third person omniscient point of view for a longer story like a chaptered fic as a default and only change if it would impact the plot in a negative way. this is where the narrator knows what every character is thinking/feeling and im p sure a teacher in middle school told me it was the easiest to write and follow

[kyberjolt]

my first round of thoughts on tros ( spit bubbles of thought as i cling to 3 hours of sleep to write this before i head into work )

film wise: the opening scenes really rocked my shit; probably some of my favorite shots throughout the entire film just because of how attention grabbing they were. kylo ren at Peak Power just popping off ( his piloting abilities...... we’ll talk more about that later ) & poe dameron expertly lightspeed jumping with the falcon? an entertaining beginning! i was blessed with being able to see it in imax & i found the entire work visually beautiful for sure, many scenes leaving me wanting to see more of each new world. the cgi for carrie was better than i expected ( both young & elderly ), & i felt honored her well. lots of lovely shots of her daughter too.

throughout the rest movie, i found the pacing shifted into FAST MODE, the story feeling a bit rushed; kinda like they tried to fit two movies worth of content into a couple action packed hours. the ending wrapped up so quickly i feel like i didn’t exactly get an opportunity to say goodbye to all of these characters that i’ve loved so much so that felt like a bit of a bummer. the soundtrack was beautiful but i’m not ready to listen to it yet.....

the content: ......i’m so devastated over ben not making it, this character i’ve loved for several years, BUT i did call it back when tfa came out that the only way he could be brought peace would have to be through death. star wars is about sacrifice and honor and redemption and i always had a feeling it was going to happen, but it doesn’t hurt any less knowing that i was right.

kylo ren barely hanging on by a thread after killing his father, but being unable to stand it & nearly loses the war & his life over the feeling of his mother passing? kylo ren wanting to go home & never feeling like he could? the memory of han in kylo’s mind helping free ben? ben solo sacrificing himself like his father....and mother.....and uncle....and grandfather? what a family. i’ve always been very soft for the organa-solos.... i wish ben could have seen leia one last time :((((

“dad....” “i know.” ( like mother.... like father.... like son.... )

hux being the spy was like something someone pulled out of ao3 and slapped a trademark sticker on it just for the sake of convenience for our heroes. there’s already enough ‘is it right or is it wrong’ about redeeming ben solo in the first place after all of his monstrosities, but i’d like to think there’s enough evidence to concur that there’s more meat to ben’s backstory that was fueled by manipulation by the emperor...... hux let their most valuable hostages leave the ship because he’s in a dick measuring match with kylo? something he knew would potentially get him killed, & did? idk seemed quick with no prompting prior to think he would ever aid the resistance in any way, shape or form. his death was terribly executed ( pun intended ).

the knights of ren deserved more screen time than what they got, & as someone who loves all my kor ocs, i’m here to hold you close & never let you go. i loved every single shot i got to see of them, among the few. i felt very let down by their lack of..... doing anything except existing i guess. running errands for kylo..... standing behind him as a lil creature fixes his mask..... not saying or doing anything & then going belly up when ben gets his hands on a saber........ i’m sorry but very underwhelming for something so hyped up for so long! i hope that the star wars creative department releases more comics of them or something, & until then, i’m collecting knights.

rose tico got scrubbed out & left behind. finn had little to no development & thats truly one of the most unforgivable parts. it felt like they opened several doors for exploring these character & ended up forgetting to close them. i loved jannah with my whole heart but she ALSO DESERVED MORE SCREENTIME.

haha jj abrams gay ally puts two hot girls kissing in his movie for .5 seconds & prayed that would patch up the lack of representation everywhere else..... haha jj abrams gay ally makes a female character in a tight suit with NO FACE just for poe dameron to continually hit on to remind everyone he’s straight for a weird segment of the movie with no context to who she is or their past or nothing. just ;) they had sex once & he’d do it again aha ;) 

thats all im going to say about that.

now..... on the topic of shipping: as someone who does ship reylo ( my soulbond uwus ), but really wanted finnrey to happen ( my softest uwus ), and if that couldn’t i was like “that cool they’ll just make finnpoe canon” ( god fucking damn it jj.... ), i feel like ive taken the fattest L. 

but enough bitching! i have to go to work & i still have so much more to say but i’ll end this with: kylo in the tie silencer headed to exegol in the first scene made my mom smack me bc i gasped out loud. i just love to see him flying, & with such precision & brute force! such a contrast to how we see poe & rey pilot their respective ships throughout the rest of the movie. 

also the choreography for each saber sequence was exhilarating & fun to watch. i love that they stayed true to how each character reacts & fights in battle.

p.s. ben planned on taking the emperor on with..... a blaster after he fucking YEETS his best weapon into the ocean, for the drama of it? that’s the most solo/skywalker thing i’ve ever seen in his arc yet & i lost my shit in a quiet, teary eyed theater.

[strikecommanding]

Lucy

a 5k piece commissioned by an anonymous user, featuring gabe loving on their OC lucy :-) i’ve updated my commission information, which now accommodates OC requests for anyone interested!

---

A stabbing pain that lit a fire all across her shoulder blades jarred Lucy into consciousness. Her fried nerves needed a moment to wake themselves back up and hit her with an abrupt, unpleasant sensation, causing her to writhe and scream for whoever was nearby. She could hardly make heads or tails of her surroundings while in the throes of such agony, but the sight of her bed hinted that she was currently in some sort of hospital room.

The pain in her shoulder blades spiked up in intensity, causing her to thrash around a bit more violently. IV drips and various other machinery hooked up to her fell to the ground with a crash so loud that it rivaled her own pained screams. If she had to put words to the excruciating sensation, she would think her rib cage was snapping out of place to try and break free through her skin. Lucy searched frantically through her memories to pin a cause to this phenomenon, and her last conscious memory pointed to a serum introduced to her veins by the Talon scientists who kidnapped her in the first place.

By the time all sorts of people rushed in to observe her, Lucy felt just about ready to curl up and die. Her body, however, couldn’t decide what to do with itself. Lying on her back and applying pressure to the site of trauma exacerbated the pain, but so did turning over and exposing it to the air. She continued to flail helplessly until a number of hands turned her on her stomach and strapped her down.

Lucy urged herself to fight through the pain and turn her agony into coherent sentences. “What’s happening?! What the fuck did you do to me?!”

“Subject’s belligerent,” said a faceless, uncaring voice overhead. “Hit her with a shot of morphine. ...Maybe up the dosage to keep her body still and her mouth shut.”

A latex-gloved hand wielding a needle hovered close to her, and she did what she could to avoid it. However, she was powerless to her restraints and the pain in her shoulder blades, leaving her no choice but to accept the injection. Its effect were near instantaneous, as she could feel her eyelids getting heavier with every harsh breath she took. She wondered if it was really the morphine that was knocking her out, or if the agony had simply become too much for her to bear.

---

“She’s stable, sir, but the outcome isn’t what we intended,” said an impassive, uncaring voice. “We’ve achieved advanced mobility, but with those wings, stealth is simply an impossibility…”

Upon hearing the word ‘stable’ in reference to her, Lucy could have laughed. After all of the scientists’ experiments and the pain they put her through, she didn’t feel stable in any capacity. The least of which was physically, as her muscles and bones ached under the strain of foreign growths in the form of wings.

Apparently finding it unnecessary to keep their lab specimen updated on changes to her own body, the Talon scientists neglected to tell Lucy what exactly happened the night she blacked out. Once she woke up, she had to eavesdrop on some nearby nurses just to learn that she’d been out cold for nearly a week. She had yet to hear anyone speak about the peculiar, peach-colored wings that suddenly sprouted from her back, and this was the first time she’d heard anyone speak so candidly about them.

Lucy stood before a council of criminals who hid their faces in the shadows. The brightest light source in the room shone directly above her head, and it was the closest simulation she’d had to sunlight ever since she first found herself a prisoner of Talon. She had to squint just to see ahead of her, but when she found dozens of pairs of eyes staring back, scrutinizing her and trying to decide her fate right then and there, she found more comfort in simply staring at the floor.

A long silence filled the room until someone spoke up, this time directly addressing Lucy rather than talking around her. “How do you feel?”

It felt like ages since someone last asked her that, and Lucy thought of a myriad of colorful answers to that particular question. Her bones were brittle and her muscles weak, all because of an unnatural pair of wings that constantly sapped the energy out of her natural body. It was as if they, too, could tell they weren’t meant to be a part of her, as the human body simply wasn’t meant to maintain such appendages. She wanted to tell them all of these things, but this was the first time in weeks that anyone had directly spoken to her and asked for her honest words. She couldn’t resist the impulse to tilt her head back and spit out a scathing answer, “I feel like you bastards ruined me, and you don’t even know how to fix your mistake.”

The tension in the room was palpable after her bold remark, but she didn’t take it back or apologize. Instead, she maintained eye contact with the man who kept himself concealed in the shadows. She tried to make out his features and got as far as a creased forehead and tightly pursed lips before both suddenly relaxed, revealing to her a slimy smile that made her sick. “Silly girl,” he said, deliberately slow so she would hang on to each and every word. “You’re Talon’s greatest mistake, and you’re foolish to think we’d want to ‘fix’ you.”

Lucy’s eyes widened and her wry smugness dropped at the implication that she would be stuck like this for the rest of her life. It hadn’t occurred to her that they would leave her as is, neither fixing her nor killing her out of mercy, and instead leaving her to live as an abomination who suffered constant pain. Her hands curled into fists and her nostrils flared. The thought angered her as much as it scared her, but she could hardly get a word out before the man spoke up again, this time to a nearby lackey.

“We’ll observe her, see if she can take to her wings,” he said, and Lucy felt herself slip back into a sort of helplessness where everyone only ever talked about her and not to her. “We can still use her.”

---

Lucy’s unwillingness to adjust to her wings hardly put a damper on her overall recovery. Her body no longer felt like her own, as if that strange serum had reprogrammed it to follow the twisted will of her captors. The process during which her wings burst from her skin and grew out to their full span had been the most painful experience of Lucy’s life, yet she recovered relatively quickly. Just under a month was all the time her body needed to recuperate and begin recognizing those wings as merely another set of appendages.

It took some time, mainly because she was so resistant to learn in a process not unlike learning to walk all over again, but she was able to start flying. The scientists overseeing her recovery and adjustment period only ever let her practice on indoor training grounds, never allowing her too far out of sight. She couldn’t yet be trusted not to simply fly away.

Even if she were free to fly outdoors, Lucy often mused, there weren’t many places she could go. By this point in her life, all she knew was Talon, and even though they mistreated her, they kept her alive. She detested them, but she relied on them for more than she cared to admit to. For this reason, she toned down the rebellion and tried to make herself useful when Talon offered her an ultimatum: either live and work for Talon as a sniper, or die.

Though neither option was particularly appealing, one was obviously better than the other. She yearned for freedom from Talon, but not to the point of seeing death as a better way out. Begrudgingly, she accepted her role as Talon’s newest sniper under the pseudonym Siren.

It was a shaky start, but Lucy ended up being a huge asset to them. Her precision and aim were superb, and her advanced mobility afforded to her by her wings allowed for easy getaways if ever the situation called for it. This was definitely a common occurrence when they first began sending her on missions, ones that typically seemed too risky or challenging for someone on her own. Lucy had a feeling that her higher-ups didn’t intend for her to come back from those particular missions, and it might have been spite alone that fueled her and encouraged her not only to return alive, but to report back with stellar results. Whether they were testing her skill or simply trying to get rid of her, she never asked. Instead, she internalized everything and took it out on herself.

There was no personal fulfillment to be had in being a terrorist organization’s favorite toy. She had to kill to survive, but she had to wonder what the point in surviving was when every day was just like the last: do your job, keep your mouth shut, and maybe you’ll be treated decently. When she was still a fiery adolescent who had a penchant for talking back in any situation, she learned the hard way that Talon wouldn’t hesitate to resort to violence, even against a child. Over the course of the ten years they kept her, Lucy somehow came to stop blaming Talon as much for her situation and began blaming herself instead.

Her biggest gripe with herself was her wings, for varying reasons. For one, she resented them for working efficiently enough to serve Talon’s interests, effectively trapping her as their lapdog. Long beyond the habit of biting the hand that first fed her, she instead berated her own body for taking so well to their experimental serum. She detested these wings not only for the grim future they’d secured for her, but also because they made her look and feel like a monster. Ordinarily, wings carried with them beautiful and cherubic connotations, or imagery of free-flying birds who could travel the world as they pleased. Lucy’s current lifestyle as a weapon felt neither angelic nor free; she felt like a freak who needed to be fixed, and since Talon refused to do so, she took matters into her own hands.

Around the halfway mark of her captivity, when she was just shy of 20, she resorted to some destructive means to undo Talon’s work. The wings were the source of all her suffering, she’d reasoned, so she tried to get rid of them with nothing but a pair of old scissors that one scientist was too careless to notice she’d had. It had been a painful process that Lucy couldn’t finish before blacking out from the pain, and by the time she woke up, she found her wings patched up and healing extraordinarily quickly, thanks to the regenerative effect of the original serum she’d taken all those years ago. She was a monster who could kill anything but herself, and that realization made her feel helpless.

Now, however, those feelings and memories had to be stowed away. No longer the unstable wreck she’d been when the role of sniper was first bestowed upon her, Lucy had been on enough missions and taken enough abuse to realize that her only job was to get from one day to the next. Meaning and personal fulfillment didn’t matter so long as she was alive, and she could only ensure that by completing her current mission.

Talon shipped her off to a quaint little city known as Rialto, where she was ordered to take out a prominent member of the UN. It was an ambitious mission, but to Lucy, it was just one more thing to get through to prove her worth for another day.

Her target was out to dinner with a number of bodyguards to go around. In order to avoid their sightlines, Lucy was forced to set up shop a bit further than she would have liked, but it was nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. It was during situations like these that she swapped out her usual bullets for non-lethal ones, whose sole purpose was gathering intel. When fired, they highlighted a wide radius for just a moment, just long enough for her to take the shot, so long as she was quick about it.

However, these bullets still left behind casings just like their regular counterparts, and even the most incompetent bodyguard wouldn’t be so daft as to excuse a bullet casing within a foot of a member of the UN. Lucy had to take the shot before it was noticed.

Unfortunately, even from her perch located so far back from the target, she was the one who was noticed. Just as she swooped into the air and lined up to take the shot, a gun fired behind her and jarred her focus. She heard it before she felt it, only realizing after a moment that she’d been shot. The pain was so sudden and intense that she couldn’t even think to scream, nor could she get a good look at her wound or assailant before plummeting directly into the canal below.

The water was cold and bracing, especially when her fresh wound was submerged in it. Already unsteady from having been shot, Lucy could hardly stay afloat with her now-heavy wings weighing her down and urging her into the depths. She could feel herself sinking faster the more she struggled, so she took in as much air as she could before going under completely. The injury to her wing was nothing compared to the helplessness and hysteria she felt as she fell further into the depths with no signs of help nearby.

Just when she thought she couldn’t hold her breath for much longer, something else abruptly joined her in the water. Someone else, she realized upon further inspection, had jumped in after her and pulled her into their arms. Lucy didn’t know their identity or their intentions, but she was quick to cling to them anyway. She didn’t want to die, and it seemed this person didn’t want her to either.

The moment her head was above the water, she gasped for some much needed air. Her rescuer, too, was out of breath, if their heaving chest was any indication. But, as Lucy pressed her palms against their sturdy chest and felt their racing heart, she concluded it must have been more from the adrenaline of going after her than merely from having been in the water. Lucy looked up fully and stared into the chocolate brown eyes of her rescuer.

A man with dark skin and unruly facial hair looked back at her, his expression impassive and unreadbale. He carried her in his arms like she was nothing, taking great care not to press against her wound. Lucy’s eyes dropped to the shotguns holstered to his sides and she realized he was likely the one who’d shot at her.

“I’ve got questions,” he said gruffly, carrying her towards a dropship. “So you’d better not die on me.”

---

By now, Lucy was used to waking up in a hospital bed after sustaining injuries. This time was different, however, in that she found herself somewhere other than Talon headquarters. A quick glance down at the edge of her blanket revealed a particular logo, that of Overwatch, which she only knew as her employers’ number one enemy. Looking over her shoulder, she noted some bandages wrapped around the base of her wing where she’d been shot. Likely a mere formality, since her cells were surely doing a quick and efficient job at putting her back together already.

“You’re awake,” said the pleasant, lightly accented voice of a cheery blonde woman who abruptly entered the room, startling Lucy. She seemed to notice Lucy’s agitation, as she maintained a distance and lowered her voice. “How are you feeling? Are you experiencing any pain at all?”

The woman was far too talkative for Lucy’s liking after having just woken up, so she simply didn’t answer. Lucy sank defensively into her sheets while eyeing this woman with distrust. The tension that filled the air was not lost on this woman, as she simply kept to herself while bustling around the room. They both looked up when a third party joined them.

The same man Lucy had seen the night before walked into the room, and she could see his imposing physique fully now that he was under good lighting. He practically towered over the blonde woman as he approached her, and Lucy’s eyes dropped to a conspicuous manila folder clutched in his left hand. “How’s she doing, Angela?”

The woman known as Angela briefly glanced at Lucy before turning away and answering the question. “She seems stable, but I haven’t had a chance to take a look at her injury yet…”

“In that case, how about you let me take over for a sec?” he suggested, patting her gently on the shoulder as he ushered her towards the door. When she looked back at him, he raised the folder to her eye level and waved it. “She and I need to talk.”

Angela wore a bit of a warning stare as she moved to exit. “Don’t stress out my patient, Gabriel.”

He waved dismissively before pulling up a chair beside Lucy’s bed. She treated him to the same distrustful stare she’d given Angela, only breaking it to look down at the papers he pulled out of his folder. He read off of them in a neutral tone, “Siren, Talon’s secret weapon responsible for a number of assassinations over the past several years. Signature mark is bullets that emit a high enough frequency to completely shred whatever they come into contact with. That’s you, isn’t it?”

Conditioned not to talk back by years of abuse, Lucy just stared at the blanket in front of her. The only thing she really wanted to say was, “My name is Lucy.”

Gabriel maintained his unflinching gaze as he put all the papers away and shut the folder. He set it aside on the bed by her leg, and she inched away from it just the slightest bit. “You’ve been on our radar for a while. You were sloppy last night, and that’s why you got caught.”

Lucy knew that better than anyone else, so she didn’t need to be told. Instead of expressing that, she just wrung the edge of her blanket in her fists.

When she didn’t answer, Gabriel filled the silence for her. His once uncaring and impassive expression dissipated into something a bit more gentle, almost tired. “Look. We’ve had eyes on you long enough to figure out exactly how Talon got their hands on you, and everything they did. It isn’t right, what they did to you. ...Ordinarily, I’d arrest you, but Blackwatch doesn’t operate under quite the same set of rules that Overwatch does. I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Lucy looked up, astonished only by one thing he’d said. She’d never heard anyone express contempt for Talon’s sordid activities, specifically the things they’d done to her. That Gabriel looked back at her with a softer expression than what he’d had on upon first walking in only encouraged her to want to listen to him, along with inspiring a strange, fluttering feeling deep inside her chest. She cautiously kept her mouth shut, but she communicated to him with an attentive gaze that she wanted him to continue.

He leaned in, speaking in a hushed tone like he was worried someone would pick up on their conversation. “You’ve been with Talon long enough to know the ins and outs of their organization. You’ve got more intel than I can possibly imagine. Plus, they won’t expect to find one of their own against them. What I’m saying is… Blackwatch could only benefit from having you around.”

This situation wasn’t unique to her. Lucy experienced the same thing when Talon first modified her, except the alternative to joining them was to die by their hand. In this case, it was likely she would simply get arrested and that would be that. Alive, but not free, the same way her life had been for the past ten years. The situation wasn’t unique, but the outcomes being offered to her were. If she were to work for Blackwatch, she had a feeling her life could only change for the better.

Gabriel took her silence as her being in need of a little more convincing, so he went on to add, “Don’t worry about your record. I’ll take care of everything,” he assured her, and then he wore a roguish smile that brought back that odd fluttering in her chest. “I’ll take care of you.”

The idea of choosing something for herself was so foreign to Lucy that she almost couldn’t respond right away. Finally, when she gained a firm hold of herself, she nodded with confidence. “I want to join you.”

---

When Gabriel said he would take care of Lucy, he meant it. He oversaw everything from her discharge from the medbay to her adjustment period as Blackwatch’s newest agent. Blackwatch, Lucy learned, was still finding its footing as a sister organization to the all-encompassing Overwatch. As things were now, she and Gabriel were the only official members.

Consequently, they were able to acquaint themselves a bit better by going out on missions, and Lucy learned that he was actually a pretty friendly and easygoing guy despite how intimidating he looked. He was the first person to treat her like an equal, like a person, rather than the weapon Talon wanted her to be. It was for this reason that she couldn’t help but grow attached to Gabriel, and she was glad to see that he appeared to be fond of her in turn. At least, that was how she felt most of the time, but the few months they shared together wasn’t enough time to rid her entirely of the demons that festered in her mind for the past ten years.

Thanks to Talon, Lucy had her fair share of insecurities, but it was because of her environment that she never had the means to deal with them in a healthy way. Now that she had the freedom to express herself, she didn’t know where to start. So she never quite dealt with her issues, instead electing to bottle everything up.

It all came to a head one evening when she and Gabriel returned from a mission. Everything had gone fine except for a few rogue decisions on Gabriel’s part, which resulted in him getting a bit more banged up than he would have liked. Though he definitely took the brunt of the damage, he insisted that they both go and get checked out by Angela.

Despite how long she’d been with Blackwatch, Lucy never could bring herself to get along with the kindly doctor. At its core, this issue was rooted in insecurity. She still remembered the first time Angela donned her wings to go to battle, and how the sight had made the eyes of passersby shine. She was undeniably beautiful, the perfect image of an angel. But, whenever she grew tired of them, she could just take off her wings and still be adored. Lucy didn’t have that luxury. Her wings were on her for good, and they only ever made her feel like a monster.

She never expressed these feelings to anyone, however, which led to her silently stewing in the corner while Angela patched up Gabriel’s wounds. Gabriel, too, had the tendency to look at Angela with stars in his eyes, and watching the two of them interact inspired within Lucy a pain she didn’t know how to treat. She carried the burden without telling a soul, but doing so for too long made her liable to blow up. When she sensed her agitation rising to a point she would no longer be able to control, she stood abruptly and headed to her room, ignoring Gabriel as he called after her.

Lucy didn’t have much time alone before Gabriel went after her, entering the room unannounced. From her spot curled up in bed, she glared at him and murmured, “Go away.”

“Not before you talk to me,” he retorted, shutting the door behind him and moving closer to her. “What’s bothering you so much that you had to storm out like that?”

“Nothing for you to worry about,” she insisted. She tried to turn over in an attempt to cut off the conversation, but he was quicker than her. Bracing her arms and holding her still, he forced her to look at him.

“It is when you’re on the verge of tears like that,” he muttered, and his grip loosened just enough for Lucy to reclaim her limbs and swipe at her inexplicably damp cheeks. She sighed in frustration and rubbed harshly at her eyes while Gabriel took a seat on the edge of the bed. His voice took on a softer tone, the one that made her weak in the knees. “What’s bothering you, Lucia?”

Hearing him call her by her full name both made her heart skip a beat and informed her that he wouldn’t be leaving any time soon. At least, not until he heard everything she had to say. Lucy stared at her hands folded in her lap and started slowly, trying to articulate what had been on her mind for weeks now. “When I see you and Angela together like that, I just… I don’t know… it makes me feel horrible. The way you look at her is so… sweet… and it kills me to know you’d never look at me like that, not when I’m such a freak.”

Gabriel didn’t answer right away, likely soaking in her words and thinking of the best way to reply. She peeked up shyly and flinched at the abrupt contact of his hand against her cheek, only settling when she felt how gentle his touch was. The rough pad of his thumb wiped away any remaining tears, and she closed her eyes when he spoke to her, smooth and slow. “You’re not a freak. After all this time, you’re still the only one who thinks of yourself that way. As for Angela and I… we’re just friends. We’ve been working together for a while so we’re close, but we’re just friends.”

While she did feel comforted by his affirmation that his relationship with Angela was strictly platonic, Lucy felt silly for having to ask him for it. It made her feel like a child. Perhaps he could sense that she was still not fully settled, as he moved in close enough for their legs to touch. She looked up into his eyes only to have her face flush upon seeing the intensity of his stare.

“You’re always right next to me, Lucy, but you never see the way I look at you,” he remarked, letting out a soft exhale not unlike a curt laugh. When he gently placed his hand on top of hers, she didn’t move away. Instead, she tried to still her rapidly beating heart when he looked back up at her and went on, “And when you look at yourself, you never see what I see either.”

“Gabe…?” she breathed, a mere whimper in comparison to the rumble his voice had been when he made that heartfelt confession. She held her breath when the distance between her lips and his slowly began to close, his hand gently pulling her in for a sweet kiss. Unsure how to react right away, she simply sat still and let him hold her. He touched her with a sort of warmth she’d never experienced before in her life, and she wanted more of it, quickly. Her clumsy hands moved to reciprocate by wrapping around his neck and pulling his body closer to hers.

Gabriel followed her unspoken directions with ease, practically purring against her lips. The feeling of that rumble deep inside his chest as he pressed it against hers made Lucy tremble. Soon enough, she was curled up in his lap, cooing and whimpering as his teeth nipped playfully at the soft skin of her neck. His hands glided up and down her sides to feel her, all of her, before he decided that her clothes were too inconvenient a barrier.

Lucy sat back and allowed him to undress her. He moved gently, especially as he removed the fabric around her wings, and she could see the way his eyes lit up with adoration as he looked them over. She’d never seen him wear a loving expression like that, and the idea that he apparently looked at her like that all the time filled her with a mix of pride and love that she didn’t know she could feel.

Bare before Gabriel’s hungry eyes, Lucy flushed and crawled back into his lap. Her waist fit perfectly between his large hands, which held her firmly as he ground her down against the bulge in his pants. The sensation came so suddenly that she couldn’t help but yelp, at which he questioned, “You okay?”

She nodded frantically, almost whining when the delicious friction stopped. “Keep touching me.”

He responded with a smug smile, gently pulling her off of him and positioning her on all fours. She was self-conscious about having her wings on full display for him, but the thought left her mind instantly when his index finger dragged along her spine, making her shiver. His knuckles brushed gently against her soft, peach-colored feathers, and he leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Are you ready?”

Lucy bit down hard on her bottom lip upon feeling his arousal stroke against her sopping wet pussy. To know that he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him was reassuring, and she showed her enthusiasm by grinding against him the slightest bit. “Please, fuck me.”

That was all the encouragement Gabriel needed to line up the tip against her entrance and bury himself inside her in one go. Every nerve in Lucy’s body responded to his touch, even the ones in her wings as they expanded briefly before settling. She melted into the feeling of his palms against the swell of her ass, holding her in place as his movements became harsher. It wasn’t so much painful as it was purely passionate, allowing Lucy to feel all the tension that had built up between them over the past few months finally come to a head. All this time, when she thought about how much she liked Gabriel, she never once realized that the feeling was mutual.

She no longer had the time to view things in hindsight when one of his hands crept between her legs, idly stroking at her swollen clit. At that, she jolted and tightened around his cock, causing him to let out a deep, rumbling groan right beside her ear. In an effort to chase after the pleasure he offered her, Lucy bucked desperately against his hand. He got the hint and picked up the pace, simultaneously thrusting harder so that they could finish at the same time. Lucy’s toes curled and her wings expanded, every inch of her body tingling as Gabriel helped her over the edge of release.

Not long after, he pulled out with a groan and finished on her lower back. They both needed a moment to catch their breath, but he was the first to get up. He briefly disappeared into the bathroom to grab a towel and clean her up before settling in bed next to her. Lucy clung to him almost immediately, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Gabriel smiled fondly as his knuckles stroked along the base of her spine, and he murmured, “Do you get that I like you yet, or do I have to spell it out?”

Lucy laughed in the form of a soft, breathless exhale as she settled against his chest. “I get it, but it’d be nice to hear you say it anyway.”

He leaned down to kiss her forehead in a way that made her truly feel loved, something she’d never experienced before. “I like you, Lucy.”

She smiled and allowed her eyes to flutter shut. “I like you too.”