#Alpha's Tale

[the-pantry-of-art]

Full character design- #6

Erin Hunter character- #6

Survivors character- #2

[the-fierce-dog]

#1 -Graceful

[mrmidknight829]

Been too inactive on Tumblr lately. Need to post again. While big bad wolves, or wolf villains and antagonists can be cool, we could always use more good wolves, wolf heroes and wolf protagonists.

The wolf characters in the picture, from top to bottom:

•Legoshi (Beastars)

•Mutt (Lobodestroyo)

•Shirou Ogami (BNA/Brand New Animal)

•Mr. Wolf (The Bad Guys)

•Grey (Sheep and Wolves)

•Humphrey & Kate (Alpha & Omega)

•Kiba (Wolf's Rain)

•Trickshot (Trick Moon)

•Wiley Wolf (The Great Wolf Pack)

•Amaterasu (Ōkami)

•Robyn & Mebh (Wolfwalkers)

•Lazor Wulf

•Luka (Kingdom Force)

•Big Brain Wolf

•Gabu (One Stormy Night/Arashi no Yoru ni)

•Wanji and Wicasa (Tales of Tatonka)

•Lupin (Lupin's Tales)

•Hope (Seed of Life)

(Hope's bird companion Letty is also barely seen in the photo like she's peeking)

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Commander's Omega"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: alpha/omega, dystopia, mass infertility, sex slavery, forced breeding, mutilation, rape, corporal punishment, fascism, hurt/comfort, mentions of abortion, miscarriage, power imbalance, mpreg, age gap (38/23)

Summary: After years of a mass infertility crisis, the United States is overtaken by religious fanatics, and Bucky Barnes finds himself thrust into a brutal world of survival. When he's discovered to be fertile, he's forced to serve as a vessel: a caste of omegas who bear children for the political elite.

Ch I. Breeding Stock

Ch II. Ofsteven

Ch III. Freedom to

Ch IV. Exit Wounds

Ch V. Shredder

Ch VI. The Shudder Before the Slide

[raurquiz]

#remembering #antonyelchin #actor #chekov #startrek #intodarkness #startrekbeyond #terminator #salvation #frightnight #greenroom #heartsinatlantis #LikeCrazy #oddthomas #trollhunters #TalesofArcadia #AlphaDog #TheSmurfs #DyingoftheLight #Rememory #WeDontBelongHere #startrek57

[twinterrors29]

The Lind-clone

Once upon a time, there was a Mand'alor named Jango who desperately wanted a son, but didn't have or want a partner.

One day he traveled alone to visit a strange old Jedi who lived alone in the woods of a neighboring county in order to ask for his wisdom on how he could acquire an heir of his own blood. The old Jedi listened to his problem, then offered him two seeds:

"The first," he said, "will give you a son to inherit your strength and determination, who will ruthlessly carry on your legacy.

"The second will give you a son to inherit your cunning and luck, who will ceaselessly carry on your line.

"But," he warned the king, "you must plant only one, because to plant two would be greedy, and bring a curse upon your line."

Jango returned to his castle with both seeds, pondering the decision of what he wanted his legacy to be. Eventually, he made his choice, and planted the seed of cunning in the field outside the city walls.

However, that night as he tried to sleep, he second guessed his decision, and snuck out to plant the second seed as well; after all, it always pays to have a backup plan, in case something goes wrong.

(Dooku had expected the Mandalorian to fall into this trap, and knew that the inevitable instability that decision would bring would serve the Sith's plans well.)

As the weeks passed, both seeds sprouted, growing so closely entwined that they resembled a single plant. Jango visited the field every day that summer, personally tending to the plant and checking its progress. As the days shortened, two smooth white pods budded and grew, each approaching the size of a pumpkin.

Finally, one morning, Jango was greeted by the sound of a baby crying as he approached the field, and he sprinted the last hundred meters to reach the plant and his promised heir.

One of the pods had split open in the night, revealing a human baby with his own dark curls, waiting for Jango to come and pick him up for the first time.

As he cradled his new son in his arms, he spoke to him:

"Ni kartayli gai sa'ad, Boba."

(As he turned toward his home, already planning how to introduce the newly-named prince to his household and ready to forget all about the plant and the old Jedi's warning, he failed to notice that the second pod had also split open in the night, leaving an empty husk swaying in the breeze...)

Years flew by, and Boba grew into a fine young man: proud and clever, and just like his buir in every way.

Once he passed his verd'goten at thirteen, Jango decided it was time to organize an alliance with the New Mandalorian faction from Kalevala. He and the Duchess Satine arranged a marriage between his son and her nephew, Korkie, to strengthen those ties to each other.

Neither acknowledged it publically, but both of their people would benefit from strengthening Boba and Korkie's claim to their respective inheritances, after how Satine's sister Bo-Katan got jealous of her sister and nephew's positions and ran off to join the Death Watch, a gang of bandits led by Jango's father's disgraced rival, Tor Vizsla. The Death Watch would use any excuse they could find to set her or Tor's son, Pre, upon either throne.

But with this agreement, worked out during Satine's visit to Jango's capitol city, Keldabe, they would strengthen both lineages, and ensure their people's security for another generation.

All that was left was for Boba to travel back to Kalevala with some of Satine's retinue to meet his riduur-to-be.

But before their party had traveled even half an hour down the road through the woods, they were waylaid by a large, serpentine creature, made of shadow and exposed bone.

The lightning-fast creature knocked the guards off their horses, which fled into the woods in terror, leaving their riders winded on the hard ground. With the outer defenses thus handily disarmed, the creature wasted no time in similarly unhorsing Boba and pinning him to the ground beneath its talons.

Then, with its face inches from Boba's, it spoke:

"A riduur for me before a riduur for thee."

Its message delivered, it released Boba and disappeared into the woods as swiftly as it appeared.

Once they got over the shock of the encounter, the party quickly retrieved their horses and hurried back to Keldabe to report what had happened.

Jango was concerned to see Boba returning so soon after he had left, but he grew even more alarmed when Boba described the creature and relayed its ultimatum.

He suddenly found himself recalling the old Jedi's warning, and the long-forgotten second pod on the plant that had given him Boba.

As he explained the story of his unnatural birth to his son, and with it his theory as to the cause of their current trouble, the boy nodded slowly.

"Does that make him my brother then?" he asked, curious.

"That thing is not your brother," Jango snapped.

Boba considered this, and nodded his acceptance.

"No," he agreed, "but based on its demand, it must think of itself as such."

With that realization, they knew they could only have one response to this situation. After all, the Death Watch were looking for any sign of weakness, and until this alliance was sealed with Boba's marriage, they couldn't afford to offer them any.

What they needed was to kill this creature before word of its presence could spread.

Two days later, they set out with a small party of guards, all equipped with their best arms and protected by their best armor. Once more, they only had to travel about half an hour into the woods before the creature appeared.

Prepared this time, they rebuffed its initial attack, and returned fire with a volley of arrows and spouts of burning oil. The creature was so fast, almost nothing seemed to hit it, and even those few arrows that reached it clattered fruitlessly off its bone armor. Boba swore that a few of his shots slotted into gaps between the stark white plates, but the bolts simply disappeared into the shadows beneath with no impact on the creature's speed. Even their fire splashed harmlessly off bone armor, and none of their grappling lines managed to make contact with the furious beast.

When its relentless attacks finally exhausted them all, it hissed the same demand as before: "A riduur for me before a riduur for thee," and once more released them, vanishing back into the shadows.

As they dragged themselves back into their keep, Jango and Boba were forced to accept that they had no choice but to agree with this ultimatum, or risk the alliance with the New Mandalorians falling apart. After carefully reassuring the Duchess of their ability to keep up their end of their treaty, the two of them struggled to think of an acceptable riduur for the creature.

They had no doubt that, believing itself to be the eldest son of the Mand'alor, the creature would require a political match, someone of their own standing. Of course, that rather left them stumped as to who they would be willing to sacrifice in this way, suspecting that whoever married it would be marching away sooner than later.

And then Boba had a realization.

"Dad," he said, "isn't the Commander of our Guard a bastard son of your second cousin? Do you think he might make a suitable match for our monster?"

Jango, pleased with his son's cleverness, looked into this Commander, a young man named Cody, who had even accompanied them on their ill-fated quest to kill the beast themselves. They were both even more pleased to note that he had a younger, legitimate brother who was also serving in their Guard, who could readily take up his role after his likely untimely demise.

"Good work, Boba," Jango praised, as they waited for the Commander to answer their summons.

A few minutes later, the Commander stepped into their chamber. As they explained their proposal to him, he turned white at the news of his planned betrothal to the creature, but held him tongue and kept his face neutral. Pleased with his composure and lack of argument, Jango urged him to consider his duty to his kingdom, even reminding him of his brother's suitability to step into his role (not specifying which role he meant, Guard Commander or sacrificial groom), and the man agreed to the betrothal. They dismissed him then, content to consider the matter satisfactorily settled.

(That night, after the conclusion of his duties, Cody fled to the rooms of his secret fiance, the Jedi monk assigned to support the Kalevalan delegation. Their affair, kept secret due to the requirement that the Jedi maintain neutrality in order to uphold their sacred duty, had been a source of comfort for him these past many months of negotiations amid the tension from the threat of Death Watch after Bo-Katan's defection.

After he finished relating what he'd agreed to, and admitted his fear at his looming presumed dark fate alone in the woods, Obi-Wan sat silent for a moment. Then, he reached out and laid his hand on the side of his beloved's face, and spoke:

"We have both known that our duties would likely pull us apart. But I do not intend to give up on you so easily, and I have hope for your survival, my love. I have heard the descriptions you and the other guards have given of this creature, and the nature of the curse is very familiar to me; it sounds very like to tales my own people tell of the Lindworm, and I believe those stories may hold the key to solving our current predicament...")

The morning of the riduurok, Cody dressed himself, carefully recalling Obi-Wan's whispered instructions.

Cody marched alone into the forest, seen off by the entire court. He didn't have far to go before he was beset by the lindworm.

"Have you come to marry me, little commander?"

"I have," Cody replied.

After the perfunctory exchange of vows, the lindworm smiled behind its bony mask.

"Take off your armor," it said, "and let me see my riduur."

"I'll take off my armor," Cody replied, "but only if you take off yours too."

The lindworm thought about this, and thinking that it really would be so much easier to eat this human if he was out of his armor, agreed to Cody's demand.

So the lindworm shed its bony plates, revealing more of the thick shadows underneath. Cody took off his shiny white armor, revealing the protective black undersuit underneath.

"Take off your undersuit," the lindworm demanded, "so that I can see who I have married."

"I'll take off my undersuit," Cody replied, "but only if you remove your shadows too."

The lindworm quickly agreed, eagerly shedding its shadows to show its white-and-blue flesh. Cody took off his kute as well, revealing a set of ordinary clothes underneath.

"Take off your clothes," the lindworm hissed, growing impatient with the delay, "so that I can see you."

"I'll take off my clothes," Cody replied, "but only if you take off yours as well."

As Cody removed his own clothing, the lindworm impatiently sheds its skin, revealing a confused naked human man. Cody couldn't help but notice that he bore an uncannily strong resemblance to Jango and Boba both.

"Come," Cody said immediately, remembering the last step in Obi-Wan's story, "now that we have taken off all our clothes, we should bathe in the river together to celebrate our marriage."

He carefully led the dazed-looking human down to the river, and, before he could react, dunked him in the cool, clean water.

The man came up spluttering, but far more lucid, and his shrewd eyes immediately locked with Cody's where he was standing, knee-deep in the running water.

There was a moment of silence, then the man started laughing.

"You've done well, riduur," he smirked approvingly. "That was quite the clever trick you played."

"Thank you, riduur," Cody bowed his head with his own smirk in return, "but it was not my idea alone."

The man followed Cody's gaze to where Obi-Wan was waiting for them with towels and fresh clothes, and snorted.

"What a team the two of you make," the man said. "Now, we should introduce ourselves."

"Naturally," the Jedi spoke up at last. "My name is Obi-Wan Kenobi, and this is my fiancee, Cody."

"Well met. My father never named me," the man replied, "and has refused to acknowledge me. I have chosen to call myself Alpha the 17th."

"A bold choice," Cody acknowledged, reminded of the long line of Mand'alors named Alpha he was laying claim to, "and one that speaks of ambition. But one, I think, that suits you well."

"I should hope so," the newly-named Alpha responded. "I certainly haven't renounced my claim to the throne, and have every intention of fulfilling my birthright."

"And how do you intend to do that?" Obi-Wan asked cautiously.

"I don't know yet," Alpha acknowledged with a nod of his head, "but I was thinking that my two clever new partners might be of some help in coming up with a plan."

Cody and Obi-Wan shared a glance.

"You could root out the Death Watch, who would also contest your own claim to the throne," Obi-Wan suggested.

"And stopping those bandits from harassing the people will earn you their respect and gratitude, as well as spread knowledge of your existence," Cody offered.

"That," Alpha smiled, showing all his bone-white teeth, "seems like a good place to start then."

("Hold on," Cody asked the next morning, "How come you're fully grown, when Boba's only thirteen?"

"First, I'm the older brother ("I thought you were supposed to be twins-") and second, what part of 'born of magic' was inadequately clear?")

---

also posted on ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51530599/chapters/130237681

[vannqy]

ERMMM GUYS ITS BECKORY ! Get this autistic middle schoolers out of here

@ashesoflilies IS GAY DONT LISTEN TO WHAT HE TELLS YOU!!

Art creds ; @postthiscat , @puhpandas

^_^

[drax-is-inthefandom]

Thanks @demonunderpressure for hosting the ToA Zine!! I was part of it and here is my piece!

Zeron Brotherhood my beloved.

[itsmybirthdaythough]

Got to the Dave and Dirk rooftop convo that shit hurt BADDDD. Debating morality with an alternate version of your dead father figure (regardless of how strained the relationship is) would rip me to shreds Also the two of them being foils of eachother makes something in my heart feel heavy. Will give a comprehensive analysis when I gather my thoughts

[diakais]

CHAPTER 20 : Celebration (Part 2/2)

Chap : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20p1

I would like to thanks everyone who took the time to read it. Seeing the feedback on each chapter made me very happy because I was very anxious about the result. I hope you enjoyed reading it~

[the-pantry-of-art]

Graceful [unoffitial pl translation: Gracja]

She/Her. Age 4,75 yrs (start of AT)- 5,5 yrs at death. The middlechild, raised more by her older sis Noble then Alpha.

Affiliations/ ranks: Deep-Woods Pack (family member)

Parents: Alpha, Beta.

Siblings: Bold, Noble, Fleet, Daring, Strident.

Late ex-mate: Charming (a wolf)

Late mate: Mutt (a dog)

Pups: Brave, Quick, Half-Wolf, 3 unnamed desised pups.

Other Notable Kin: Omega (grandmother), Wise (uncle).

{canon description: Graceful was a female wolf with shaggy gray fur and golden eyes.}

Design Info: She got the height of a mountain wolf, that made her one of the tallest wolves in her family, but she was't blesst with a lot of muscle power. Giving her a delicate and "graceful" apperance.

-Her mother always said she got her eyes... and she was right, this perceing yellow was hard to mistake as belonging to anyone other then a wolf with mountain blood in its veins.

(Backstory) & other changes: She was a beaming happy child, a bit lonley though as she was sole in her litter, but it didn't seem like much of a problem to her. She always had her older sister Noble at her side, caring for her as her mother Alpha was out hunting. She was always content with this family The Great Wolf choose for her, even though as the time went she ache for someting more the the warmth of her siblings fur and a full stomach at night. She ache for romance.

And someday an oportunity presented itself in the form of a lone wolf, or better said in this situation, a half dead intruder. Found by Graceful and Wise on a hunting party, layed a wolf mutulated by a black bear when trying to defend his kill, poached in the Deep-Woods Pack territory. Not wanting a young wolf to die alone, they bringed this intruder to the camp and tried nursing him back to health. It proved to be a good idea, as this Charming wolf turned out to be a formetable fighter and an exelent hunter. Soon enough Graceful found herself in love with him, the only unrelated wolf she know her Pack wasn't in any conflict with.

Not long after they met, Graceful and Charming become mates. But it was a bad decision, one Graceful pretty soon learned to be one of the worst in her life. The handsome wolf turned out to be a rather trashy mate, narcisictic, neglectful and manipulative. He cared only for himself and caved validation from Graceful's older brothers and parents even if it meant painting his mate in a bad light. He would often undermine her acomplishments in hunting, wanting to make the Pack depend on his abilities. In the begining she brushed thouse situations off, taking them as nothing more then Charming wanting to impress her Family. Though by the time it really started to piss her of, his schemings were too far gone. She and Noble had nothing they could really do in this situation, Graceful was replaced in the eyes of her loved ones. With her brothers, and especially Bold trusting Charming more then his own sister.

When Graceful called him out on his behavior, he promised to change and made her happy by giving her children, it worked for some time, but then after she gived birth to Brave and Quick it returned to the deafult stat of things, or become even worse for her, Charming seemd to completly forget about her, to focused on his new kin, same was with Alpha and Beta, they were so happy for grandpups they completly missed on that Graceful was feeling miserable. She growed emotionally isolted from her litter. Become going on long walks and sole huntings to the woods, unaware that her paws were taking her colser and closer to the Longpaws settlmants.

It was where she meet Mutt, a friendly dog whom she growed more and more content with. She befriended him, and he become her escape. He always made her smile, comforted her, tried to clear her mind and fixed her view on her relationship with her pups. Even though he liked her, and wanted to be with her, he knew that her pups neded her more. She took his advice to her heart and spend more time with Brave and Quick to raise them properly (trying to shield them from Charmings lies). But she never stopped meeting with Mutt.

Character summary: I looovve her, really. I love how tragic her character arc is, and I love that despite everything she still tried to stand on solid ground, and she still fought for the respect of her late mates name, as well as trying to give Half-Wolf a deacent puphood, and show him that his Name and heritige isn't a definition of his selfworth.

I like, that despite everything that happend to her, all the grief, she never gived up on her son, he was all she had left... and losing him was the end for her...

(New design stats:)

Full character design- #8

Erin Hunter character- #8

Survivors character- #8

[kit-williams]

Barn Anon. Wanted to buy Dante and usually I buy on Amazon... wtf it's $100+ there?? Either ways I bought the ebook version instead. Still prefer to get a physical book though, something about having the physical thing itself scratches that itch in my head.

Inigo follows his human around the city, proud as a peacock. Yes, this human is his, so what if they don't have a bond like other pairs? She's his! He coos softly to her as she stops to peer through a shop window. Has something caught her eye? A pretty necklace? Wait does she not want it? He's confused as his human turns away from the shop and carries on walking.

He bristles whenever they pass by another Space Marine, he can feel their judging and pitying glances. No! He refuses to let them get to him, he has a human now! He walks closer to his human when they pass a group of Chaos Marines. Mocking words too soft for human ears are said, all directed at the fact that his legion will never get a true bond. He ignores it all, he has heard them a thousand times over. His attention is reserved for his human who's now pulling him towards a bookstore.

He holds her bag as she moves between the shelves, sometimes helping to take a book from the top shelf. His human is short, it's adorable. How he wants to bundle her up and keep her safe from the world. As she queues to pay for her books, his mind goes back to the necklace she was looking at earlier. Maybe he should gift her a little something? Humans like that don't they? She'll know that he cares for her.

I get that feeling of physical books (Okay Alpha legion is slowly getting dashes of Yandere I need to stop)

"Inigo what's wrong?" She says holding him close as she knows just sometimes he gets clingy. But its not like the last time when he was clingy and that she got that weird feeling but that didn't happen this time.

He just speaks in Gothic and she can't help but sigh as he will do this sometimes.

"Did you do something bad?" You hold his face before he just buries his face into your neck nuzzling softly. She runs a hand over his head as she gives him a small kiss on his forehead and just tilts her head as he buries his face into your neck as he just desperately wants this bond to be real.

It is real... He tells himself over and over again as he hugs you tightly. You are his... his human.

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Commander's Omega"

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: alpha/omega, dystopia, sex slavery, forced breeding, mutilation, rape, corporal punishment, fascism, hurt/comfort, power imbalance, mpreg, age gap (38/23), mentions of abortion

Summary: After years of a mass infertility crisis, the United States is overtaken by religious fanatics, and Bucky Barnes finds himself thrust into a brutal world of survival. When he's discovered to be fertile, he's forced to serve as a vessel: a caste of omegas who bear children for the political elite.

Chapter III. Freedom to

Story Masterlist

Before:

First, the president and the ranking fifteen closest in command are assassinated. There’s an explosion that nobody can trace, and just like that, the whole cabinet goes.

Bucky’s halfway through his Wednesday physics lecture when the professor stops what she’s doing and grabs the remote. The tv gets turned on and the one hundred and twelve freshmen in the lecture hall watch it play out on the news with a sense of surrealism.

NYU winds up suspending all classes, and Bucky takes the train home to spend time with his parents. George and Winnie put him up in his old room, which they haven’t yet bothered to empty out. There’s still a poster of Nine Inch Nails on the back of the door from Bucky’s alternative phase. Becca, Trudy and Clair come home within the following week, and the house is just as cramped as it ever was.

That’s how he finds himself at home when the news breaks that Congress has been eliminated. Eliminated, that’s the word they use. Not an assassination. Now it’s a terrorist attack, and the martial law that’s been in place since two weeks ago has everyone in their homes by sundown. But there are already guardians patrolling the neighborhood streets as if they’re the ones in charge.

Bucky gets a text from his bank, notifying him that his accounts have been frozen and will be transferred to his Alpha spouse or next of kin. He's still what-the-fucking that with his sisters when his mom steps out of the room to go call his dad and urge him to come home early from work. All their phones start shrieking with emergency alerts, telling them to shelter in place, that people on the street could be shot.

In the next few hours, Bucky's father comes home, looking wan and disturbed. Bucky can't get him to give a straight answer on what he saw out there to make him so upset, but the occasional pops of gunfire and revving vehicles outside are a hint. Bucky keeps getting text messages from his bank, from the University. When he tries to log into his accounts, he's blocked, and repeat text messages are triggered to his phone.

Becca, Trudy, and Clair are beta: they don't get any text messages.

His mom and dad come back into the living room and join Bucky and his sisters in sitting on the couch and watching the tv. Within hours, the news programs stop broadcasting. The tv shows only static. Within days, the missing news programs are replaced with just one: a state news channel.

The new broadcasts are bare-boned, but they are very informative. The anchor who used to do the six o’clock news comes on for her slot. She sits poised behind the news desk, making no comment for a long minute. There’s sweat visibly beading on her brow, but it’s obvious that she’s trying hard to maintain her composure while sitting in front of the large banner they’ve set as a backdrop. It's a symbol Bucky recognizes from a Christian nationalist group that's been in the news these past few years. "That's ... that's the Sons of Jacob flag," he says.

"Sons of what?"

"Holy rollers," he breathes, dread welling in his stomach. "They have a chapter on campus."

“Good evening,” the news anchor says, when someone or something offscreen prompts her. Her hands clasp tightly atop the desk and she begins cheerfully reading off the news: "As of six p.m. eastern time today, security in the capital has been declared restored," she announces. "The worst of the fighting is suppressed, and recovery efforts are being prepared for deployment in all major cities north of the Knoxville-Raleigh line. In Washington D.C., the government is reported to be secured and solidly in place."

"Oh, thank goodness," Winnie says, but Bucky is frowning at the tv and shaking his head.

"I don't think they mean the US government, mom."

"What?"

"Insurgent forces have suffered devastating defeats, and have been pushed back beyond the North Carolina-Tennessee border. Reports of smaller insurgent camps located in the Pennsylvania mountains are unsubstantiated at this point, but government officials are warning civilians in the Allegany Mountain range to avoid travel. An extended shelter in place order is expected to remain in place for the region."

Bucky looks worriedly to his mother, because he’s not stupid. The newscaster lady looks almost exactly the same as she always had before, only now there's an odd enthusiasm radiating from her; a sort of glassy-eyed, desperate-to-be-believed look that doesn't sit well with Bucky. It doesn’t take him long to learn what that look is, or what it means.

It’s fear. And it means that he should be afraid too.

After:

“Ofsteven, good afternoon.”

Bucky looks up from his seat at the window. Today is the third day in a row that he’s sat there, time spent mostly staring out at the back yard. There’s a black guy who wears beta blue and tends to the flowers and bushes out there. Sam. Bucky's been wondering if he might go down and poke around the little greenhouse that's attached to the kitchen, or if he'd be chastised for getting in the way.

But now Commander Rogers is standing awkwardly in the doorway to his little room, and Bucky snaps to attention. It's odd, hearing himself referred to by this new name. Up until not too long ago, he was called Ofwarren. Then at the red center, it'd been back to James, and now it's back to the goddamn patronymic. “Commander,” he says respectfully. "Blessed day."

The Commander gives him a tight sort of smile. “Blessed day." He steps a little farther into the room. "You can call me Steve,” he offers. "If you want."

"What?" Bucky shifts uncomfortably, realizes that he's not joking. “But ... That’s not allowed."

“I run my household a little differently, you’ll find,” Steve says. “Commander is ..." he makes a face. "It's very formal. I’d prefer it if you called me Steve. Especially since we’ll, erm ... you know. Be getting to know one another better.”

In another life, Bucky would’ve blushed, but he’s been indoctrinated in some ways whether he’d like to admit it or not. He’s used to his role as an object by now. “Okay,” he agrees quietly. "Fine."

He doesn’t want to seem too eager to be breaking the rules, since this could just be Commander Rogers’ way of tricking him, of sussing him out. There are true Believers who get their kicks that way, and vessels like Bucky are already known for rule breaking, criminally sentenced to their roles as broodmares for the state. Steve might just be trying to lure him into a false sense of comfortability by feigning friendliness. Commander Putnam had been that way. The bottoms of Bucky’s feet have scars from his misplaced trust in years past, and he isn’t keen on earning more.

“You can call me Bucky if you want,” he reluctantly offers.

Steve nods, brightening a bit. “Okay. Bucky it is." His mouth quirks and he tilts his head. "I take it that's a nickname of some sort?"

"Yeah. My one sister started it, back when she couldn't pronounce my middle name." He shrugs. "It's what my family called me."

Steve smiles, encouraged. "Are any of them still around?”

“No.”

He's surprised yet again, when Steve makes it clear he's going to join him for lunch.

Bucky'd thought commanders like Steve were too busy to take meals outside their offices. Even now, nearly four years after the institution of biblical law, there's still a lot of work to do: insurgencies to hunt, population crises to handle, people to surveil, torture, maim. Kill. The restructuring of the country is still in its infancy, and just because the iron fist of fascism has closed firmly around their necks doesn't mean there's ever a shortage of work to be done.

Bucky doesn't yet know what Commander Rogers' specific role is, in this brave new nation of theirs, but so far, every Commander that he's encountered has held an instrumental position. He tries to remember that, when his first instinct is to trust Steve's surface-level kindness. Steve isn't like him. He caused this. He wanted this.

Steve leads them downstairs, down to the conservatory that connects the kitchen to the greenhouse. It's set up as an informal dining room, and Bucky’s taken aback when, after placing a simple lunch of soup and sandwiches onto the table for the Commander and Bucky, the Martha named Sharon puts out four other place settings. Shortly thereafter, Sharon and the redheaded servant—Natasha, Bucky learns, and the gardener and the driver (Sam and Clint) join the table as well.

They eat in relative silence, and Bucky spends the meal sneaking surreptitious glances around at everybody. They’re all eating together as if they're equals, when Bucky knows they very much are not. Gender roles have been staunchly enforced in the past four years, and it's become a rare sight indeed, to have alphas, betas, and omegas interacting together all at once.

Steve is sitting at the head of the table, and it comes as a shock when he says, “So how has everyone’s morning been?”

Bucky keeps his eyes on his sandwich, sure that he’s not expected to answer. Natasha is the first one who speaks, saying, “Pretty good. Got the vacuuming done."

"Upstairs, or downstairs?" Steve asks pointedly.

"Downstairs. Upstairs isn't ready yet."

"Dammit," Steve grunts.

"All the laundry's done.” Natasha glances reproachfully at Sam. “Unless somebody makes an awful mess of his clothes going forward. Blood isn't exactly easy to get out, you know.”

Sam chuckles. “I have a dirty job, sue me.” He looks pointedly at Steve. "I got the hedges done."

"Did that go smoothly?" Steve asks without looking up from his soup. Bucky frowns, wondering how trimming the hedges could go wrong.

"There were a few dead spots, but they came off without a hitch."

"Disposed of?" Steve asks.

"Yep. Threw 'em in the burn pit."

Steve nods in somber approval. "Good riddance."

Jeez, Bucky thinks, these people take lawn maintenance very seriously. He realizes after a beat that his mouth is gaping a little, and he snaps it shut. This is the first time in nearly four years that he’s observed alphas, betas and omegas speaking so freely with one another, acting like equals. It’s almost like before. The thought puts an ache in his chest, which he quickly squashes.

“How about you Bucky?”

His eyes shoot up to find Steve and everyone else at the table regarding him. He quickly swallows the bite of sandwich in his mouth to answer, “Um, I’ve been okay. Just ... been in my room.” The answer is so dull that it almost makes him feel embarrassed. Even now, when the highlights of other people’s days are as tedious as laundry and gardening, Bucky himself has nothing to offer in the way of conversation. He doesn’t dare complain, though. There are worse things than being bored.

“You must be getting bored up there in your room,” Steve observes.

“Um …”

“I have a modest library in my office. If you like, you can poke around and find something that interests you.”

Bucky's stomach sinks, and his fingers feel cold where they grip his sandwich. “Excuse me?” he asks. Surely, this is a trap. This is the Rogers’ household trying to see whether he’s a True Believer or not. They're testing him. Bucky feels sick at the prospect of getting in trouble, so he mumbles, “I don’t think so,” and looks back down at his plate. “That’s not allowed.”

There’s a long beat of awkward silence, and then Steve says, “Guys, can you give us a minute?”

Four chairs scrape against the stone floor of the conservatory and Natasha and the others file out through the kitchen, disappearing back into the house. Bucky feels dread well in his gut. Has he said the wrong thing?

“Bucky,” Steve says carefully. “Do you really think that it’s wrong for an omega to read?”

Bucky can feel Steve’s eyes boring into his head, so he looks up. Steve doesn’t look upset, he looks interested. Bucky licks his lips nervously. “Well. I dunno. I ... was an engineering major, in college,” he says. “I minored in English Lit.”

Steve nods sympathetically. “I take it you were quite an avid reader, then.”

“I guess.”

Steve continues to eat his lunch as if Bucky hasn’t said anything wrong, and it gives Bucky hope. Surely this can’t be, he thinks. Surely there aren’t people like this, aren’t households like this, anymore. “Did you really mean it?” he asks, heart lifting with new hope, about ready to bust free of the scar tissue that’s kept it tethered down for so long. "You'd let me read?"

“Yes,” Steve says. “You can come to my office tonight, after evening meal. You can pick out some books.”

Bucky’s heart soars. “Can I take some back to my room?”

“Absolutely not,” Steve snaps, sounding like a true Commander for the first time yet. He levels Bucky with a stern look. “My office is the only room in the house without windows. Do you understand? You may only read them in there.”

Bucky swallows heavily and ducks his head, cowed. “Yeah,” he says quietly. “Okay.”

Before:

Bucky’s naked toes scrape the ledge of the exam table. He’s only wearing the paper gown they gave him, and frankly the room’s too cold for that. The door to the exam room opens again, and Bucky’s eyes shoot up. He sits up straighter. “Doctor?”

The man doesn’t look at him. He walks over to the cabinets in the room and drops the folder he’s holding onto the countertop with a flourish and a sigh. Bucky screws up his face at having been ignored. “Um … what did the—”

“You’re pregnant,” the doctor says flatly, still not turning around. “Congratulations.”

Bucky’s heart sinks. Sure, he’d suspected. Hell, he’d pretty much known. Two positive at-home tests and a smiling pharmacist when he’d been desperate enough to buy a third had told him so. It’s why he’d come to the clinic. But still, shit. “Okay,” he says, swallowing heavily. “Okay. So, do I need to make another appointment to come back? Or can we just …”

The doctor’s shoulders tense up through the material of his lab coat. “Excuse me?” he says. He turns around and the expression on his face makes Bucky want to shrink away. “‘Can we just’? ‘Can we just’ what?”

“... I told you,” Bucky says, wary of the man's anger. “The pregnancy. I want to terminate.”

If he had any doubts about what was going through the physician’s mind, they’re quickly quashed by the way the man’s face now dissolves into disgust. “Well isn't that a pretty way of putting it,” he spits. “You want an abortion?”

“Uh, yeah.” Bucky juts his chin out in defiance. “You got a problem with that?”

The doctor scoffs. “Yes, I do. You know, hardly anyone can have a baby anymore. You manage to get pregnant, and you want to kill it?”

“It’s my choice.”

“You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Bucky stands up, heedless of the fact that he’s dressed in only the flimsy paper gown. “I don’t think you’re being very professional,” he says. Really, it’s not that this doctor’s opinion is that different from a lot of people’s these days, but Bucky still feels infuriated at the fact that he’s having to have this argument with a doctor, of all people. “Now, do I have to make an appointment to come back?” he grits. "Or can we take care of this today?"

The man’s features harden. “You’ll have to go somewhere else if you want to murder your own child. We don’t do that here.”

Bucky grinds his teeth. “This is a city-funded clinic.” He’d specifically come here instead of the private doctor that his parents’ insurance could easily cover. “You have to provide reproductive health care. It’s the law.”

“The law’s going to change real soon.” The doctor turns his back to Bucky and heads for the door. 

Bucky watches in disbelief as he's utterly dismissed. “Excuse me?”

“Get the hell out of my clinic,” the man says as he flings the door open and steps out into the hallway. He spares Bucky one last contemptuous glance. “There’s a special place in Hell for people like you.”

Bucky gapes as the man goes, and the door slowly shuts behind him. Suddenly, the room feels even colder than it had before, and Bucky’s desperate to get his clothes back on. He stoops to grab his jeans and underwear from where he’d put them on a chair, and he shucks them on, followed by his shirt. He rakes his hands through his hair, feeling overwhelmed tears pricking at the edges of his eyes. He’s had enough shit to deal with lately, what with midterms, his boyfriend breaking up with him, and now this pregnancy scare (well, not a scare anymore, as it turns out). He really didn’t need to deal with such a shitty person on today of all days.

“Well fuck you too,” he mutters to the empty room, bitterness burning in his gut. He’s going to go straight to the next city clinic, and the next, and the next, until he finds someone to agree to help him. Because no way in fucking hell is he having a baby one semester into undergrad.

After:

Bucky trails his hands over the spines of the books that line Commander Rogers’ library. Steve is sitting at his desk, distracted by whatever he’s looking at on the screen of his computer.

There must be over a thousand books in the office. Steve has books on everything from philosophy to horticulture; from biographies and novels, to antique encyclopedias and foreign language art books. Bucky can’t help but be impressed. And jealous. "This is amazing," he murmurs.

Steve spares him a glance from over at his desk. He looks vaguely amused. “It’s just a library.”

Said like someone who's never had anything taken away from him, Bucky thinks peevishly. “Must be a thousand," he guesses.

"Close to twelve hundred, last time I counted."

"Are they all yours, or did they come with—” he cuts himself off before he can complete the question.

It’s not talked about openly, isn't considered polite, but everybody knows that the Commanders of the Faithful all live in grand houses that were taken and not bought. Taken from people deemed unworthy by the government. Gender traitors, freedom fighters, apostates. There are plenty of things that can get a person killed these days, their house stripped away along with everything else they own. There’s a strong chance that this house they’re standing in right now got snatched from someone else; a person with a life, hopes and dreams, furniture, family. A person with possessions and passions. With books. 

Bucky tenses when he comes across an entire section stuffed full with different spiritual and holy books. There's one whole shelf dedicated to nothing but an assortment of bibles: King James, Catholic, Greek, and New Republic versions, all. Old and new, English and Latin. It seems to be a collection, and Bucky moves away down the line of books, uneasy at the evidence of Steve's religious fervor. "You're a collector?"

“Sort of. Took me over a decade to build all that up, though," Steve says. "I brought them all down when I moved. Couldn’t choose which ones to leave behind."

"Behind?"

"In New York.”

Bucky snaps to attention. “New York City?” he asks.

Steve looks over and sees his reaction—which must be telling, because a knowing smile splits his face. “What borough?” he asks.

“Brooklyn. Red Hook."

He scoffs and thumbs at his own chest. “Gowanus. Wow. I guess it’s a small world after all, huh? We probably grew up less than twenty minutes apart from each other."

Bucky bites his tongue to keep from saying any number of inappropriate, unfriendly things; about how their shared West Brooklyn origin is probably the only thing they have in common, how their situations are nothing alike, how Steve is obviously older than him, so they definitely were never “growing up” at the same time together, no matter where they lived. "Yeah,” he grunts. “Small world."

He keeps his focus on the books in front of his face. He's nervous just from perusing the titles; feels like he’s thirteen again, sneaking into his parents’ wine fridge, about to be caught and grounded at any second. Silly perhaps, but he can’t shake it. He doesn’t want to get into an unnecessary discussion on his appreciation for Commander Rogers’ library, or his own affinity for reading. Reading is forbidden for people like Bucky now. If caught, it could cost him a finger, or god forbid a whole hand. Since he’s only got the one left to work with, he’s got to be careful. The back of his brain keeps itching with the niggling reminder, over and over again: This could still be a trick.

In another life maybe he’dve be embarrassed of such paranoia, but he isn't now. He’s been conditioned to be this suspicious. At this point it’s simply survival instinct, to resist the twitch of his fingers as they linger over Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go. It's sandwiched alphabetically right between Huxley and Orwell, with a little metal placard overhead that's engraved in tidy letters: Dystopian Fiction. Bucky starts to reach for the book.

“You a fan of the genre?”

His heart leaps and he jerks his hand back and looks over at Steve. “What? No. No I just …” Steve watches him keenly, with an inscrutable expression that does nothing to calm Bucky's nerves. He hastily shakes his head. “I’d seen the movie once, is all. Before.” He doesn’t have to expound on what “Before” means. They both know. Before the government collapsed. Before the regime took over. Before the world went to shit.

Well, he doesn’t yet know if Steve agrees with that last part. Regardless, Bucky knows he can’t place all of his trust on this man and his considerate treatment thus far. It isn’t worth what little bodily integrity he has left. He's got to be careful. “It was a depressing movie, anyway,” he mumbles, and moves on down the line of books to look for something else.

He winds up choosing a pulpy science fiction novel that he’s never heard of, by an author he’s never heard of, with subject matter completely removed from real life. It’s a cheap paperback, with a worn spine and outdated, sun-bleached cover art. Looks like something somebody dug out of a bin at a yard sale. It's probably not a very good read, but if Bucky’s going to be caught reading anything, it’ll be least painful if it’s something that has nothing to do with anything. Nothing … subversive. 

Steve doesn’t seem to care one way or another, though his eyes do seem sympathetic, as if he knows that Bucky is holding himself back. “You can come at night,” he tells him. “After dinner. I’ll be in here most nights. Sometimes doing business with other people, but when it’s just you and I alone together, I'll lock the door. You can stay and read whatever you like.”

Bucky tenses up at that wording: “alone together.” Since Gilead began, there’s only ever been one alpha who went out of his way to be alone with Bucky, and it hadn’t been for charitable reasons. “But it's not … It’s not a trade, right?” he checks nervously. When he works up the nerve to look at Steve's face, he catches the tail end of a shocked look, which rapidly bleeds into a scowl of insulted indignation. Bucky panics and tries to backtrack. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t have to come in here at all, if you don’t want to,” Steve snaps. “Go to your room instead, for all I care.” He goes back to his typing at the computer, visibly incensed. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

Bucky winces, mortified at having pissed off his new Commander so soon—and when the guy was only trying to be nice to him, too! There’s so little left in this miserable world for people like Bucky, and now he fears he might’ve ruined the one good thing that was being offered. “No,” he hurries to say. “I’ll stay. I-I'd like to. I mean ... if that’s still okay?” 

Steve shrugs and doesn’t look over. “Do what you want.”

Feeling cowed, Bucky goes over to sit on the couch. He curls up in the corner nearest the room's fireplace and flips past the copyright and the title pages. He begins reading chapter one. It’s only as he’s re-reading the same paragraph for the third time that he realizes he’s not taking any of it in. He sighs and looks over at Steve. “I’m sorry," he says. "I wasn’t trying to insult you."

"It's fine."

Bucky bites his lip and looks back down. After another moment, he quietly adds, "Really, though. It's ... it means a lot, you letting me read in here." He peeks up again and finds Steve regarding him again, this time with a softened expression. Bucky tries to smile a little, and uses his name like a peace offering: "Thank you ... Steve."

Steve inhales deeply and nods, satisfied. “You’re welcome. Bucky.”

Story Masterlist

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[tarowrites]

✾Beta Readers Wanted!✾

What I'm looking for: ✾Polite, friendly readers who can give me their honest opinion on my stories. ✾ Readers who can let me know if there are any inconsistencies within the story, such as plot holes ect. ✾ Readers who are familiar with the Fantasy, Horror, and Romance genre. What are my stories about? The Hollows: [Beauty and The Beast, Snow White & Vasilisa The Beautiful elements] Cecilia lives in an era of beauty and decorum...yet this world is cold and distant, with nothing but her mother's jealousy and abuse for company. Cecilia only wishes to survive-but the forest beyond Lockwood Estate is whispering...and soon she'll find herself spirited away from her mother's jealousy and wrath, encountering a long-forgotten world that is ancient, wild & unforgiving. Where the comforting monotony of Regency decorum is unheard of. For In the Hollows...Beasts roam...cottages have chicken legs...and the Unseelie run free... Crowned of The Wildes: [Beauty and The Beast elements] Deep beneath the earth, where the soil and roots are warm, lives Adele the hearth spirit (brownie). Like so many before her, she grew up in the Land of The Midsts, working hard as a servant for the Seelie Court.

But when she accidentally witnesses the royal family's assassination, does she know the truth. The Unseelie Court now has the crown, and they intend to rule and dominate all life. Obeying the High King's last wish, she flees into The Wildes to warn the neighboring kingdoms. But will they believe a little hearth spirit or will they bow down to the crowned of the wildes? Genre: The Hollows- Horror/Fantasy/Romance/Historical Crowned of The Wildes- Horror/ High Fantasy/Romance/Historical Content Warnings: The Hollows- [ Abuse/Attempted Rape/Violence & Gore ]

Crowned of The Wildes- [ Violence & Gore ]

Rated: The Hollows- M

Crowned of The Wildes- M Vibes & Aesthetics:

The Hollows- Black Coffee, Roasted Apples, Sunrises, Tarot Cards, Fire Burn & Cauldron Bubble, Autumn, Cinnamon Sugar,80's Fantasy. Crowned of The Wildes- Chai Latte, Moss, Scent of Rain, Stormy Nights, Wet Earth, Baked Bread, Bonfires, 80's Fantasy.

**If interested, please message me here or join my discord server(must be +18) down below👇 🐛BOOKWORM CAFE🐛

[cuntyfieddemon]

WHEN AHSOKA SAID "LET'S GO AGAIN." AFTER PUTTING SABINE TO THE GROUND THEN FADE TO BLACK AND THE TITLE SEQUENCE I COULD LITERALLY HEAR ANAKIN'S VOICE IN MY HEAD FROM TALES OF THE JEDI IM EATING CONCRETE

[writterofstars]

The Mother of the House of El

In a dark alternate future, Clark Kent – now an Omega and stripped of his powers – is reduced to a life of emotional and physical captivity. The powerful Alpha members of the Justice League force him to bear a new generation of heroes, heirs to the House of El. His once-dreamed home becomes a gilded prison, where he is trapped in a role he never chose: a mother confined to submission and obedience.

Clark initially hoped his sacrifice might bring peace, but over the years, he is worn down through 15 pregnancies. He dies at the age of 48, leaving behind a haunting legacy for his children. As they grow, each gifted with unique powers, they stumble upon the hidden diaries of their mother, where the heartbreaking truth unfolds: the family they know is not what Clark envisioned for them.Now, the heirs of the House of El — Kal, Kara, Lizzie, Mark, Suzie, Wally, Jonathan, Artemis, Luna, Martha, Damian, Alicia, Austin, James, and Laura — carry the weight of this truth. With pain and determination, they resolve to honor Clark’s legacy by reclaiming justice.

Inspired by their mother’s resilience, they unite as a formidable force, vowing to hold accountable those who subjected Clark to such suffering.This story delves into the resilience and strength of Clark Kent’s children as they seek to redeem the name of the House of El, pursuing justice in a world where even heroes must answer for their actions.