#Like if I was an ex child soldier risking my life to help out this guys kid and her partner and he Went There for No Fucking Reason

[badgirlcoven-official]

Whilst we're hating on alador/lh it drives me so insane when he accuses Hunter of going back to Belos- absolutely unhinged thing to say to a traumatized child- and Hunter shoots back with "At least I never made him an ARMY!" his go to response to that is "I don't like your tone young man! >:[" like.

Like yeah they were all hangry whatever but I am so fucking obsessed/neg with this like. What tone were you EXPECTING him to have when you accused him of being a traitor? Man was grumpy and was like I think I will inflict the agonies for fun and then got what he gave and was suddenly like hey no you can't do that :(

[kiryoutann]

Hiatus Announcement

As stated in the title, I will be taking a hiatus. Apart from being busy, I’m currently in a bad mental condition (been ghosting everyone and having A LOT of emotional ups and downs, but nothing serious, I hope). I also feel like I need a break from all the big social media, so please understand that this means no new writing and work for a while. It's OK for you to still submit to my ask box or message me; but, it will take me some time to respond to you. Not sure when I'll be back.

Before I go, I want to let you know there are some plots I will (likely) write in the future!

1. DEVIL MAY CRY (ZHONGLI X FEM! READER)

↠ THE TITLE. if u play the game lmk. our bebe zhongli x devil! reader. where he makes a contract with you to save his comatose and amnesiac wife (guizhong) in return you get half of his life span. but, in the middle of the way—something that shouldn't exist formed between the two of you. you fall in love with him, and are complicated watching him love someone else.

2. SECRET LADY (DILUC RAGNVINDR X FEM! READER)

↠ someone made an assassination attempt on ceo! diluc. after learning that his safety might be at risk, he hires an elite bodyguard—you, a former military soldier who joined a security company after a mission gone wrong that killed your friends. you and diluc have your own problems. but, your time together will make you determined to help each other—including uncovering who’s behind the attempted murder which turns out to be connected to a past case.

3. EX PROBLEM (CHILDE X FEM! READER)

↠ this is probably your cup of tea, guys. though i should warn u this involves toxic relationship (slightly manipulative behaviors. i do NOT condone this behavior irl). after breaking up with your lover—ajax, you are faced with the fact that you’re still stuck living in the same apartment as him. despite being filthy rich and owning many apartments and condos in town, for some reason he also doesn't want to move. while you're trying to save up enough money to move out quickly, ajax does everything he can to make you lose your patience—including crashing your blind date with someone. like your friends say, you always find your way back to each other. will this be the same as before?

I want to quickly write it all. So, please wait for me to get better! Be happy and healthy, everyone.

♡, Ryou

[lovelyzealousangel]

Ginger and Cardamom

01 | Jake

Series Masterlist (Tag yourself here)

Coming here was a bad idea, this was exactly why he worked alone.

Jake had been standing outside her studio apartment for the past five minutes. Dragging her into his life was never going to end well. For all he knew she could be lying dead in the same dumpster she found him in a few weeks ago.

"Why is she not opening the door?"

Khonshu, the Egyptian god of the moon towered beside him, looking rather amused.

"You do not even know her name? Why do you care if she lies dead somewhere? You are moon knight, my fist of vengeance, you do not need anyone. Not the way the others do. We are wasting our time here."

"Can you be quiet and let me think," Jake mumbled as he searched his pockets for something that might help break the lock. But before he could find anything he heard her voice.

"What do you think you are doing?"

She pulled Jake by the back of his collar, forcing him to face her. The anger in her eyes quickly dissolved into understanding as she realised who Jake was.

"It's you"

He looked at the nurse, giving her a once-over for any signs of injury. She didn't look injured. He could feel his shoulders drop, as he exhaled. A calm washed over him for the first time since coming here. She was safe...and covered in glitter.

"You were not answering the door, been standing here a while" Jake offered.

The nurse sighed, giving him a disapproving nod as she fished around in her backpack for the keys. She was wearing a black top and jeans. His eyes lingered on her figure for a brief moment but he quickly came to his senses as she pushed him aside once she had found her keys.

"Was at the pride parade all day, then went to a friend's place. If you would have just asked for my number like a sane person might have saved some time."

She pushed the door open and they stepped inside her small studio apartment which made Steven's place look like a mansion in comparison.

Jake chuckled, "Oh that's what you find weird about this. If you were interested cariño, all you had to do was ask. You find the man you pulled out of the dumpster not long ago at your door, covered in blood probably needing stitches and this is what bothers you. Not knowing my name. For all you know, I could be one of those super terrorists that have started popping up."

Jake sat down on the couch and began opening his shirt. He was stabbed by one of Harrow's men while searching for his whereabouts. Usually, he would have gone back to the house but the others have started suspecting things and he could not risk a switch by going there. So he decided to pay the kind nurse a visit. She had patched him up the last time and given him some of her ex's clothes.

"You know what, fair. I should kick you out but I won't. You clearly don't have a lot or you wouldn't be here again."

She pulled a first aid kit from her kitchen cabinet and began setting up the contents on the countertop. Then walked up to turn on the light that was behind Khonshu. Though the god was invisible to anyone other than his avatars most of the time, Jake had a suspicion that if someone came too close they might feel his presence, evident by how quickly Khonshu moved out of her way.

"Move the couch closer. I need to see how bad it is."

Jake did his best to move the couch closer to the light. She sat down on the stool next to him and began cleaning the area. Jake could feel his skin burn as whatever was in the gauze touched the open wound.

"Just so you know, you don't look like the type of guy who would be a super soldier. Maybe it's my absolute lack of self-preservation skills but you don't feel any more dangerous than a guy I could match with on tinder."

That caused Jake to cough as he choked on the air. "What kind of people have you been dating? Nothing about this is normal."

She bit her lip trying to stop herself from smiling.

"I can not take more of this. It is child's play, stop distracting yourself. You will hear from me when I have something" Khunsho declared before dissolving into the dark corner.

"I promise it's not that bad. Crime has gone up in the area since people came back. When I found you I just assumed that you got mugged or something. Though now I'm beginning to think that is not the case."

"See you are starting to catch on. Though you never said you are not interested." Jake teased, bending over a little to be closer to her. He could not deny that she was beautiful, even more so in the dim light. Sure he knew nothing would come of it, but it couldn't hurt to look.

"Stop moving and let me focus. Flirting will distract me and I really don't want you to bleed out on my couch."

Jake dramatically moved his hands over his lips, as if he was zipping them up. he winced in pain as she started putting the stitches in.

"Why can't you go to the A&E? I mean I'm not even a practising nurse anymore. I'm worried that this might be infected, you should really get it looked at"

Perhaps Jake was being too hopeful in thinking she wouldn't ask too many questions. He thought about what to say. Nothing he could say would make her believe her. Jake had no idea why he had even bothered to come here when he could have easily used the suit to heal. There was just something so comforting about her presence, perhaps he was looking for something that could take the pain away. Pain that the suit could not heal.

In the end, Jake settled for a half-truth, "Couldn't go home looking like this. The others would worry."

When she was done, she offered him some chai. Jake thought about Steven, and how he would have loved to have a cup. But Jake politely declined, not wanting to burden her any further than he had to.

The last thing Jake could remember before he fell asleep on the nurse's blue couch, was her talking about how big of a jerk her supervisor was. And if it wasn't for the people she would have left her job a while back.

[peacehopeandrats]

TBR Bingo Update!

Well, there have been a lot of changes in the past few days, namely the fact that I found a new series to enjoy, needed a new book, AND had a book on hold just become available to me all at once.

So, here's a look at the current card, just to keep me responsible.

I've got three new books to put on it, two of which I've already started, one that I just got today. The good news is they are all different types of reading, so I can have one in the car, one reading to pets I'm taking care of (meaning I don't mind if owners hear me reading it out loud) and one that's a little more "adult" and I'm reading in my spare time. That last one? Sage, a graphic novel I never would have thought to look for and one I'm actually enjoying for the fact that it holds reality so close, even for it being a sci-fi story.

Let's start there.

Winner of the 2013 Hugo award for Best Graphic Story.

Voted one of the top graphic novels of the year by the NYT, IGN, the Examiner, and SF Weekly. Voted Best Comic of the year by MTV Geek and Best New Series by Paradox Comics. Voted a finalist in the GoodReads Best GN of 2012 contest.

Named one of Time Magazine's top 10 graphic novels for 2013

When two soldiers from opposite sides of a never-ending galactic war fall in love, they risk everything to bring a fragile new life into a dangerous old universe. From New York Times bestselling writer Brian K. Vaughan (Y: The Last Man, Ex Machina) and critically acclaimed artist Fiona Staples (Mystery Society, North 40), Saga is the sweeping tale of one young family fighting to find their place in the worlds. Fantasy and science fiction are wed like never before in this sexy, subversive drama for adults.

It starts out right away with the child's birth and the natural things that happen, like shitting while pushing. Like you get to that first bit. Page one. You know what kind of story this is going to be. I got it because I'd heard it covered everything about life perfectly, representing feminism and an overflowing handful of other important subjects throughout the series. I mean, just look at the cover. Not afraid to show breastfeeding right at the beginning.

Next up, my book that will tick off the sports square:

Not an often read book, My Year of the Racehorse is about an author who bought a share in a horse just so that he could write about the experience and sell the book. At least that's how it starts out. His life in the sport of horse racing slowly changes him, though. His to do list switches from fancy stuff to more simple things and we get to see the workers at the track in the process, which I really like.

Finally, Red Queen, the first in a series of multiple books, is going to fill my fantasy square. I have been waiting on it for AGES, so I'm excited to get started.

Mare Barrow's world is divided by blood—those with common, Red blood serve the Silver-blooded elite, who are gifted with superhuman abilities. Mare is a Red, scraping by as a thief in a poor, rural village, until a twist of fate throws her in front of the Silver court. Before the king, princes, and all the nobles, she discovers she has an ability of her own.

To cover up this impossibility, the king forces her to play the role of a lost Silver princess and betroths her to one of his own sons. As Mare is drawn further into the Silver world, she risks everything and uses her new position to help the Scarlet Guard—a growing Red rebellion—even as her heart tugs her in an impossible direction.

One wrong move can lead to her death, but in the dangerous game she plays, the only certainty is betrayal.

[kpopinesss]

[ateez] S A N ➱ baby daddy au

YOU HAVE TO RAISE HIS SON AFTER HE LEAVES. MAFIA SAN.

warnings: teen pregnancy

a/n: sorry ya’ll I accidentally posted this on my main lol - @atinybitofau

• raising a son on your own was hard.

• raising a son whose genes were on par to his notorious father was even harder—

• a hooligan. a mischievous troublemaker.

• an eyesore in morality.

• and yes, your son was just like him.

• cold. ruthless. blood thirsty.

• but unlike San, your son loved you enough never to leave you.

• appreciated the things you did for him enough to stay.

• “Eomma..”

• you turn on your side when your son interrupts your slumber,

• injuries blatant on his tethered arm.

• raising a child who’s now 13 since you were 16 never easy.

• “Where were you, Ari?”

• he sits at the edge of your bed and leans for the warmth only a mother could give. “I was trying to get your medicine.. but I ended up causing a scene and the store owner kicked me out.”

• you sigh letting him lay down beside you. “It’s just a little cold. You don’t need to go and risk your life to save mine.”

• he wants to ask you.

• he’s old enough..

• why hasn’t his father came back to be the one the take care of you?

• to take care of him.

• why do you have to suffer alone?

• “Ari, just do me a favor and take care of yourself the way you do for me.” you cuddle into your sons warmth too. “That’s all I need.”

• but you’re lying.

• you’re getting sicker.

• and he can’t take it anymore.

• he goes to lower than the low to find something to save you, his mother.

• eventually ending up tied up in San’s gang house.

• brutally beat for intervening a drug heist—

• “Alright you little shit,” San holds your son up by the collar, blood running down his face mixed with his tears. “I don’t care that you’re 13 years old. Hell you could’ve been 10 and I’ll still beat the living crap out of you. No one just comes barging into a drug heist for no reason. That’s not just a coincidence.”

• it is.

• it really is.

• and maybe god was just giving him a sign.

• because you were on the verge of dying—

• and his own son being dealt his life and in the hands of his own father,

• yet San still didn’t know what was going on.

• what sign god was trying to give him.

• “I have to admit.” San runs a finger down his son’s chiseled jaw and smirks. “You’ve got a nice face. But in a couple minutes, you might not even be able to recognize it anymore.”

• “I-I-I was just trying to get medicine for my mom! I swear.”

• San really needed to get a clue.

• not all drugs were recreational.

• and some—

• some can actually save lives not just make dirty money.

• “You think I’ll believe that sissy crap?”

• Ari shudders looking to his torn up jeans. “H-her pictures in my wallet. I swear, she’s the only thing I’ll do anything illegal for. I promise I wasn’t trying to fuck anything up. She’d kill me if I got involved. Kill herself if I pushed myself too far.”

• he’s convinced at the desperation in the poor kid’s voice.

• normally not as merciful but he digs through the kid’s pocket for the picture anyway.

• and he should be glad he did because shit—

• the picture of you made him go from 100 to 0 real quick.

• “Y/n?”

• “T-that’s her! That’s my mom.”

• San glances up at the beat up kid, horrified.

• horrified at the sight.

• that he was basically beating to death a walking replica of himself.

• an age far enough that fit the time he left you.

• “You’re telling me my high school sweetheart..” San’s bloody fingers curl around your picture. “The woman you’ve been trying to steal medication for is your mom? The woman in this picture.”

• he’s at first in denial.

• that the kid he almost beat to death was your son.

• but denial hits him even harder the chances he could also be the father.

• “M-my mom is everything to me.” Ari bawls his last tears out begging for his own father to spare his life. or anything to save yours. “She’s only got me. I’ve only got her. S-sir please. At least save her. If you wanna kill me sir, please save my mom first.”

• his jaw clenches,

• still knealt down on one knee propped in front of his pleading son.

• studying every feature of his face.

• how on par everything was to his own.

• San was beating up his son, he realized.

• holy shit he was about to kill his own son.

• “Why didn’t she tell me?”

• “W-what?” his son chokes. “What do you mean?”

• “Fucking hell— kid, I think I’m your dad.”

• the five days that your son was held captive was long enough for your body to grow cold and weaker.

• laying in a hospital bed nearly blacked out.

• your son cries over your body as you sleep.

• hoping he’s not too late.

• not too late to give you the one thing that might be able to keep you alive.

• a husband?

• finally a father to your child.

• “You’re the husband?” the doctor finds San watching from the doorway awkwardly glancing at the black dressed men who towered behind him. “You’ve got quite the entourage there, sir. But not even an army of soldiers would be able to save your wife right now. She’s hanging on a thin line. Barely holding on. That woman needs a miracle if she wants to live the next good years of her life.”

• San watches as his son that he never knew about cries over you.

• wishes you would’ve told him..

• he would’ve stayed.

• would’ve loved you.

• why were you always so selfish? always wanting to do things that pushed you too far even if there were another option available.

• “Eomma.”

• you hear everything.

• your son.

• San.

• “Ma, I’m sorry I wasn’t able to get the medicine. I got into trouble again, ma. I’m sorry.” Ari folds his hand over your limp one’s. “B-but I have something even better. Someone who could help you and me. He can take care of us, ma.”

• it hurts.

• you want to wake up for your son because he deserves the world.

• he deserves a fight for the both of you but the option you chose came short.

• in the past, the option of never telling San in the first place of his own son.

• “Ma.. he’s gonna talk to you okay? I’m gonna let him talk to you.” Ari sniffles and suddenly your hand gets replaced with a different warmth. “He’s gonna tell you it’s gonna be okay. I love you, eomma. I love you. We’re gonna be okay.”

• it’s almost enough.

• your heart beats a little faster.

• burns a little more so you could breathe on your own.

• it’s definitely working.

• “You shoulda told me, bubba.”

• the nickname San had given you years ago,

• a nickname you thought you’d never hear again, rings in your ear and that light so far away,

• it gets further.

• “You shoulda told me about him. About you.” he lifts your hand against his trembling lips. “13 years? 13 years after I tell you to take care of yourself and now you’re almost dying. Come on now. My girl was a fighter. Pushed herself harder than she wanted to.”

• his voice is like a mantra—

• a dream that gives you a little bit more of life you we’re starting to lose.

• “Bubba, you were the love of my life. And I didn’t tell you enough how much I appreciated you. I know it may be too late and if god forbid I do lose you, I will make sure our baby stays safe okay?”

• you think if you were awake right now you’d be crying.

• as if a weight lifted off your shoulders.

• cause the one person who could save you right now—you and your son,

• was right here.

• ready to go merciless to keep you two safe.

• “I left loving you. And I’ll come back loving you. 13 years only kept us apart. But let me tell you, y/n, it never stopped me from loving you.”

• he’s unsure when he lets go of your hand.

• usually gets what he wants with one word—

• cause he’s a notorious mobster.

• but let’s just say you were the one thing he wanted he could’ve never gotten even with two words.

• 3?

• “I love you.” he continues. “And if I’m gonna have to love our son the way I should’ve loved you then so be it.”

• but life’s not like movies where you wake up right during a miracle.

• this miracle takes time.

• and after an EXPENSIVE deal of money and medicine to keep you alive,

• a year it takes for you to finally open your eyes.

• to a nice hospital bed room.

• filled with flowers and the reminiscent scent of old spice and San.

• your hair’s a bit longer.

• the sun’s definitely brighter.

• but not as bright as the smile you see once you turn to the side.

• “Good morning beautiful.” San reaches his forehead against yours. “How were your dreams?”

• you choke on a decent reply. “S-San?”

• “The one and only.”

• “Where’s— Where’s Ari? Where’s my—“

• “Our?” San chuckles softly. “You mean our son.”

• you kind of remember.

• it takes a while to remember the voices and the dreams in your head.

• how waking up to find them real was surreal on its own.

• “He’s at school, bubba.” San cradles your face in the palm of his hand staring at you like he was hypnotized. “I’ll have someone pick him up. Tell him mommy’s awake.”

• “San..” you shake your head in his hand. “How is this real?”

• “Our son might be a miracle worker. Brought us together the way we made him. Brought me so I could keep you alive.”

• cheesy as you remember.

• although this handsome and older version of your old flame you aren’t too sure.

• “So you just show up while I’m in a coma and play daddy while I sleep?” you hoarsely chuckle while he smiles against your lips. “Even after 13 years, you won’t grudge against me for not telling you?”

• “I can’t blame you for trying to save yourselves.” he admits with his lips still on yours. “I wasn’t good enough for you. I know still I’m not. But I’m gonna try this time. Even if I have to pretend I’m not who I am sometimes.”

• you two are interrupted by a crying teenager.

• one you remembered resembled San.

• but now them standing right next to each other,

• looking like two carbon copies and a surreal dream in your head.

• maybe you are dead...

• “Ma!” he shoves his father away abruptly. “Look ma! I brought dad! He helped pay your debt, pays for my school. Even finished the hospital bills.”

• you glare at your always boisterous ex boyfriend and long lost father to your son.

• “You did what?”

• “Did I mention this was my way of getting back at you for not telling me about my 14 year old son?”

• “San how the hell am I gonna pay you back?”

• you just woke up.

• and the doctor runs in ready to sedate to keep you stable for at least more than 24 hours.

• but the way San looks at you is enough.

• him being there like your life long medication itself.

• holding your hand while your son holds your other one proposing,

• “Marry me. And we can call it even.”

@atinybitofau

[giorno-plays-piano]

Money, Money, Money Part 1

Pairing: mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader, slight Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: lots of swearing, silly drunk mobs, mentions of alcoholism, parody, Peter is adult, is this a crack fic??

Words: 2578.

Summary: When Steve finds out somebody has stolen their money, Bucky realizes he has to take his ass off the leather couch in his office, finally.

P.S. This is my first attempt to write humor and I’m sorry in advance for everything I’ve written here 😅

_________________

“BITCH, DID I STUTTER WHEN I SAID TO KEEP THAT SAFE CLOSED AT ALL TIMES?”

Allyson massaged her temples softly and let out a groan: if Mr. Rogers continued to yell like that, he would definitely choke soon. This morning he had been pretending to be the death, vengeance and fury, ready to kick the ass of her immediate superior, James Barnes, who acted like he was deaf, unable to pull himself from the couch where he slept after getting drunk as a fish last night. Oh, poor Bucky. Apparently, he fucked things up again if Mr. Rogers stormed into his office like he was getting chased by a 200-pound dog.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you son of a...” glancing at a pouting man-child with a three-day beard, Steve covered his face with his palm and let out an exasperated sigh, “... respectable woman who would die of shame if she saw you now!”

“Come on, Stevie,” the man yawned, finally moving his huge, muscular body up to sit instead of just laying on the couch since he felt a little guilty Steve was getting all riled up while he just chilled, “why so serious? Yeah, somebody took a bit of cash from the safe, it’s not a big deal.”

Allyson heard everything as if they were speaking right in front of her - Bucky was a real Mr. Cheapo who didn’t want to rent an office with decent walls - and quickly closed her ears, wishing she had taken her earplugs today. Her boss just made a grave mistake, and now both of them were going to pay for it with their eardrums.

“NOT A BIG DEAL? NOT A BIG DEAL, YOU MASSIVE BAG OF DOUCHE?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MONEY WAS THERE, HUH?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THOSE MONEY WERE FOR?!”

Seriously, she considered getting a new job, but these free daily standup shows were both tiring and so fucking funny she was afraid she might wet her seat.

“Oh my fucking God, Bucky, I swear I’ll kill you, I’ll... no, I have a better idea!” Steve gave his best friend a dirty look. “I’ll call your uncle. Yeah, you know which one. He’ll be sooo happy to take you drunk ass to jail and then give your mama a call. I bet she has a cure for both your attitude and alcoholism.”

“You wouldn’t do that!”

Suddenly realizing the danger he was in, Bucky quickly got up, almost falling to the floor but holding on the leather chair in the very last second. When Steve talked about calling his uncle, a chief of police of the neighboring town where his whole family lived, it meant things were going bad. Real bad.

“Bucky, it was the part we were going to invest into Pierce’s casino. I have to take it to him tomorrow morning. TOMORROW FUCKING MORNING, DO YOU HEAR ME, YOU STINKING DRUNK?”

“I’m drunk but not deaf, Steve!”

“Oh my God, I’m driving you to a rehab, go gather your stuff right now!”

Allyson sighed, getting up and proceeding to choose the most beautiful cup to fill it with fresh coffee: when their conflicts escalated to threats, it meant her boss would soon start to sweet-talk, apologizing to his best friend and promising to sober up and get things right. Every time she felt like Mr. Rogers would really do something to Bucky, the guy used his natural charisma and charm and got away with anything by just reminding Steve how he fought for his best friend in the dark alleys when Rogers was a sick, skinny kid. It worked every damn time.

There they were again, talking about same things with Bucky swearing on his mother’s life that he will find the money and bring it back to Steve. Usually it meant the threats were coming to an end, and soon Mr. Rogers would open the door and come out red as a lobster, breathing heavily as if he just ran a marathon. There he would see her with a cup of nice coffee with cream and two spoons of sugar just like he preferred, gladly accepting it and saying nobody understand him but her. Then Allyson would smile compassionately, listen to his small talk before he went out the office, and wait until her grumpy boss would fall out the room, reeking alcohol, and ask her what the fuck had happened yesterday.

After that in a couple of minutes things would finally settle down, and Allyson would have a chance to give a call to her best friend.

_______________________________

Your day couldn’t start better: you had finally received your Amazon order - hooray to the stupid makeup tools you would use, like, once a year - and even watched your favorite Netflix series with a cup of a fragrant coffee with marshmallows because it was Sunday and you were finally free from both work and cleaning the apartment. It felt so nice to just do absolutely nothing, laying on your couch with a piece of pizza in your hand. Seriously, even a workaholic like you had to do it more often.

Your lazy morning was interrupted by Peter, a sweet college student who was getting into troubles more often than a drunk in a local bar: you seriously considered calling him Harry Potter after you found him half-naked with a scratch on his forehead standing in the corridor of your building and holding a broom. To protect himself from bullies, he said, by the look on his face you could tell it was as good as a magic wand against 6"4 ft tall guys, seriously.

Since he rented an apartment with other unlucky nerds who had zero skills how to survive in this cruel world, you ended up nearly baby-sitting Peter, patching him up after he was getting in a fight and lending him some money time after time when he struggled to pay rent or buy food. His parents were elderly people with income below average, but they still did whatever they could to give him an education, so you decided to give the guy a hand.

Now that baby was standing in front of you, lit up like a Christmas tree, with a bouquet of wonderful pink roses, big box of hand-crafted chocolates and a whole bag of what looked like some very fine food, even a bottle of champagne clinking inside.

"Good morning, Fairy Godmother! I came to bring back what I owe you!" His smile was a mile wide when he looked at your face, happy to the point he couldn't stand still, dancing like those Duracell rabbits in the tv ad.

"You're up early, Cinderella."

You yawned, laughing when you saw the guy pouting at the nickname you gave him - tf he expected for calling you Fairy Godmother?

"Don't stand there, come in."

When he actually handed you the flowers and chocolates, giving you a quick peck on the cheek shyly, you froze, finally realizing he brought all this for you. Wait, what? Where the heck did he get so much money to buy that expensive stuff? You thought he was helping his other neighbor who was planning to finally propose to his girlfriend. Perplexed to the point you nearly missed that peck, you blinked at tomato red Peter.

"Please don't tell me you robbed your 90-year-old paralytic professor."

"Why don't you ask if I robbed a bank?" He pouted again, putting the bag on the floor and getting a hundred dollar banknote out of his old leather wallet. "I actually came to thank you for everything you've done for me. And I didn't rob anyone! I got a real job!"

"Real job?" You eyed him curiously. "But don't you already have a job in delivery?"

"Pfft, you can't call it a job. It was getting one nasty smelling pizza from one place to the other while looking miserable."

You barely held your laugh, leaving the bouquet and chocolates on the side table and rubbing guy's back. Poor Peter, nobody was giving him a hand - while you couldn't question people's decision since the guy wasn't the most reliable one, it was still a shame he wasn't treated decently as if all of them weren't young and careless once.

Wait, but who on Earth gave him such a well-paid job all of a sudden? He must have spent hundreds of dollars on the bouquet, chocolates, food and champagne, not even counting those 100 dollars he owed.

Oh God.

"Please don't tell me you're working for some shady business." You looked at him in horror, your hand flying to your mouth. "Peter, is it Tony's band?!"

"Jesus woman, why would I work for some stupid mob." The guy rolled his eyes, and you sighed in relief, not knowing what to except from this trouble on two skinny legs. “I’m telling you, it’s nothing bad! I just have to keep it a secret before I get a contract. Once I figure it out, I’ll explain everything, I swear!”

“Alright, alright, don’t stress over it, I’m not your Ma.” Smirking, you went to take a square glass vase you hadn’t use in ages, filling it with water to drop the bouquet inside. “Let’s celebrate it, then! Woah, careful there, give me that bottle until you drop it on my clean floor, I’ve been scrubbing it for hours yesterday!”

_______________________

Bucky still felt like Steve was making too much of a big deal out of it: obviously, it was Tony who went to him at night when Bucky was already drunk like a monkey, celebrating the birth of Clint’s daughter. Nobody else had the courage to steal from him, Steve’s right hand, an ex-soldier who had a reputation of a man killing with the first punch. Not that Bucky ever killed anybody, actually being a ex-trumpet in an army band...

Anyway, the man was heading over to Stark’s Tower, a motel where he and all his guys lived when his wife Pepper was out of town. Pepper had definitely been out of town lately since Tony didn’t call: when she was coming back, Steve and Tony were having a two-day truce with nobody getting in a fight because it was making Mrs. Stark upset, and when she was upset, both Steve and Tony didn’t risk getting out of their holes to face this enraged blonde woman who could make anyone wet themselves with one her glance. If there were anyone killing with just one punch in the town, it got to be Pepper.

As he got closer in his Cadillac that looked like it went through fire and water before being sold to Bucky, Barnes stared at the motel suspiciously: it was strangely quiet with everyone hiding inside, not a man guarding the motel’s entrance. What the hell happened? Tony loved showing off, pretending he ruled over the town, and he would definitely act like a king after stealing Steve’s and his money. It was unbelievable Bucky so nobody welcoming him with a smirk.

Hoping he didn’t use all that money for emptying a liquor store, Bucky parked the car and went to the motel, dying to have some beer: one heartless blonde boss of his emptied his fridge.

“Oh, more drinking partners returning to continue the fun, huh?”

Bucky froze immediately, staring at Pepper who stood in the doorway with a face of an iron maiden. Jesus fucking Christ. She returned to the city way before Tony told him, and it was clear she found him not in the condition she expected to. While Bucky considered whether it was better to run, Tony’s head appeared somewhere behind his wife, and Barnes saw Tony was as drunk as him, if not even more. He could see a huge blue mark from Pepper’s heavy hand on Stark’s cheek.

“Who’s that, honey?” The man asked innocently, earning an enraged glance from his wife, and Bucky thought he should have run. “Hi, Buck! Come on in, it’s ok if you didn’t bring beer even if I asked twice.”

Oh. Something was going on. Of course, Bucky could rat the man out immediately, telling Pepper he wasn’t drinking with Tony yesterday’s night, but he wasn’t such a heartless bastard - by the look on Stark’s face Barnes could see his sweet blonde wifey would beat poor Tony to death with her Dior handbag.

“Sorry, I blacked out for a couple of hours in my car.” He mumbled, bowing his head in respect. “Pepper, such a pleasure to see you.”

“Come on in, alcoholic.” Her gaze was heavy, and Bucky shivered a little, carefully leaving his shoes near the door and scurrying away to the coach where Tony sat, nervously biting his fingers. “Well, do you wanna tell me something, huh? How many hookers have you brought here yesterday?”

Glancing to Tony and back to Pepper, Barnes suddenly realized his frenemy had been so drunk he had no hecking idea whether somebody really brought hookers to the motel - it was a total taboo, but once they got drunk they could barely control themselves. Once they literally woke up to a Santa Claus singing Jingle Bells in the tub in the middle of June because Tony missed Christmas.

Of course, Stark would never slip up the night before Pepper was coming back to town, but, apparently, she didn’t stay with her mom for as long as she planned, and Tony was royally fucked.

“I’ve asked you a question.”

And now Bucky was, too, if he didn’t think of something quick. Of course, he could tell her the truth, but it meant losing Tony completely, and Barnes didn’t want that. A real mafioso should have at least one strong enemy, right?

“I’m sorry, Pepper, but I don’t think there were any hookers here last night.” He said, carefully choosing words. “You see, first, Tony never allows us to. Second, we’re good Christians. We would never invite some hookers when we celebrated the birth of Clint’s daughter!”

As he got silent, enjoying the effect his words were having on Pepper, Bucky looked at the man sitting to his right, watching Tony’s eyes watering: it was definitely God himself who sent Barnes his way that morning, saving his from near death. Nothing would work better than this excuse. Clint and all Bucky’s guys were so drunk to the point they barely remembered what had happened, and it would be easy to convince them Tony and his gang came to see Barnes for something and ended up staying with all of them.

Besides, there was a nice bonus Bucky could add to make it work even better.

“By the way, Clint named her Natasha. That’s also the name of your mom, right?”

By the look on Tony’s face the man realized he was ready to sing.

“How did he know my mom’s name?” Pepper eyed Steve’s right hand distrustfully, but he could tell she was less irritated.

“Oh, you know, he and his wife couldn’t choose the name, so we started saying whatever names we knew, and Tony mentioned Natasha.”

For a second Bucky thought Stark was going to kiss him through excess of joy.

When he finally left the motel, getting his pack of beer given him by lovely Pepper who changed the anger to mercy, Tony ran out of the house after him, giving him a pat on the shoulder and whispering quietly, “I own you one, brother.”

Bucky sighed. Stark didn’t take the money.

______________

Tags: @finleyjayne​​ @alexakeyloveloki​​ @helenaeisenhower​​ @villanellevi​​ @hurricanerin​​ @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic​ @navegandoaciegas​ @rosalynshields​ @brattycherubwrites​ @sllooney​ @angrythingstarlight​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysbunny​ @soleil-dor​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @dillybuggg​ @literate-lamb​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @sarge-barnes-sir​ @buckybarnesplumwhore​ @jaysayey​ @megzdoodle​ @gotnofucks​ @lux-ravenwolf​ @iheartsebandchris​ @ximebebx​ @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​ @sourpatchspinster​

[allandoflimbo]

Ashens (Part 8)

Summary: She falls in love with Bucky Barnes from the moment she sees him. Bucky, still in love with a woman from his past, hates Y/N and plans to make her life miserable. To both their dismay, they are assigned together to go undercover into The Capitol for six months. There, they develop a heartbreaking friend with benefits agreement. Dystopian.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 4,050

Rating: M for Mature, E for explicit. Enemies to lovers trope, sharing a bed trope, friends with benefits trope, temporarily unrequited love, heavy and angry sex, heavy on the angst, and very strong language.

Full Masterpage |

[...] A screeching scream of a child. A glint of metal...

You weren’t sure if you were still dreaming or if reality had officially become unbelievably terrifying. Your first instinct is to swallow the gasp that escapes your throat as your body is being rocked from side to side. A cloud of heavy orange dust had crawled up into your sinuses and you tried to find what strength you could to cough out the dirt and finally be able to breathe properly again. Your lungs felt heavy and they burned ardently, a feeling of nausea and suffocation overwhelming your upper belly in tight waves.

You couldn’t be sick, not now.

You hear a strong voice calling out to you and your eyes finally somewhat adjust to the smog. You’re able to see Bucky right in front of you, his face scrunched up in concern. He’s yelling, you know he is, but your still-asleep mind can’t seem to wrap around the words he is saying. You feel the taste from the Apple you had eaten hours before on the roof of your mouth, and the twigs dig into your palms as you stretch yourself up into a sitting position.

You look around, seeing nothing but that orange smoke, your visibility very small.

You’re awake, and you snap your head to look at Bucky again, and this time he’s pulling you up by your arm. You feel the digits of his flesh hand digging into your forearm.

“What’s going on?” Your voice is hoarse and your throat is dry, begging for some water.

His brows are tight-knit and a growl comes from somewhere behind you. You freeze and you feel your eyes go wide, searching his for answers.

“We need to go. Now.”

“What time is it?” You don’t know why you ask, but you couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. The sky had hardly changed and you did not feel well-rested.

His irritation is all over his face as he ignores your question.

You look down at your belongings, only swinging your arm around to grab your backpack. Your eyes dart to your shoes.

“My boots.”

A sound that could only be closest to a grumble escapes his throat, and he bends down to grab your boots in his hand. You’re going to ask him again what’s going on when he’s starts running, bringing you with him by your left arm as he does so.

He’s fast and he’s urgent in his movements. That same growl from earlier echoes among the trees and you feel the hair on your arms stand up.

“What is that?” You ask breathlessly.  You feel the bottoms of your feet aching from the severe pain of running barefoot over the branches and rocks.

Bucky makes a sharp right turn against a tree and your back falls against his front with a heavy huff. You feel his heartbeat under you and he’s quiet for a few moments before whispering.

“It’s a bear.”

“Can’t you just kill it with your fist?” You don’t know if it was necessarily an insulting thing for you to say, you were only thinking logically. He was a super soldier, an Avenger. What damage could a bear do to someone like him?

But clearly it must’ve hit a nerve and you feel him quickly let go of you, making you almost topple forward. You spin around to see him snarling at you, his eyes dark.

“I could, but I can’t see anything through this fog. I see what you see. Unless you can tell me for sure the coordinates of this animal, I’m putting us both at risk. We need to move. Now.”

He pushes himself off the three and drops your boots next to you. He gives you a few seconds to tie them on securely and then he’s on the move again. You follow him very close behind.

You couldn’t risk losing him in this fog. Who knew how long it went for.

“The dust must’ve come in from the city overnight,” he mumbles, “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep.”

“Don’t say that. You needed to sleep.”

He’s tense as he continues to walk through the branches and leaves. The smell of the oak is stronger and it’s a reminder to tuck your scarf tighter around the bottom half of your face. It reminds you of when you were both walking through the abandoned city when he had fixed your scarf. For a fraction of a moment, you had thought that he had finally let his wall down. Obviously, you had been wrong.

You taste the oak and dust in your mouth. It was a bit like charcoal, that part of the burnt marshmallow that some people enjoyed except for the nice sweet taste.

“Should we be breathing this in?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer. Then he pulls his own hood higher over his face, “No. But we can’t just hold our breath. Not when we don’t know even know how far this fog goes.”

“Can’t we run?”

He ticks his jaw. “We can, but it’s not worth the exertion.”

“You seem very unworried.”

He tucks his hand into his coat pocket and pulls out the compass. “Because I’m pretty sure it’s just remnants of blown-up tanks and steel fires. Just cover your nose and you should be fine.”

You knew he had served in World War II, and that piece of knowledge comforts you a bit, knowing that you were probably in the best hands right now. But you also feel immense pity for the man. Was war all he knew of?

“What made you want to enlist?”

“I was drafted.”

You nod. “I didn’t know.” Your eyes dart down to the bag over his shoulders and you swallow thickly, “Should we stop for some water?”

He stops suddenly in his tracks and you find yourself almost running face front with his back. He turns around to look at you, an unamused glint in his eyes.

“I have a question for you.” “Okay?” You perk a brow.

“I don’t know anything about you or your life, all I know is about your little family and how they built a place that caused this mess in the first place. But, please, enlighten me. Did you always have everything served to you on a silver platter? Did you always get what you want and when you wanted it? Food, resources, entertainment, water?” His eyes trail over your face, “I can’t figure you out, kid.”

Your teeth clench together and your brain grows confused at his skill to mix an insult and a sincere tone all into one. You tilt your head at him and take a step closer.

“I have held nothing but the utmost respect for you, Bucky. But I’m done,” he raises a brow at you, “I’m done at trying to pretend like I can take your insults and your insinuations about me. You, do not walk over me. You do not have any power over me. You and I are one in this mission as a team and we are equals. You treat me like such. You can do whatever the hell it is you want to do when we get to The Capitol, but I will not stand by letting you attack my family. You might think you know me, think I’m a rebel just because I’m younger and because I’m sarcastic and have a tattoo, you might think you know me by making these assumptions, but you don’t know anything.” Your voice was wavering by the end of your little speech and you saw a flicker of something in Bucky’s eyes, “I’m trying very hard to be your friend, your acquaintance at least. Why can’t you just try to be civil?” You don’t know where your balls and guts came from, but there it was.

You felt your eyelid twitch as you waited apprehensively for his response.

Bucky scoffed and gave an eye roll as he turned away from you. This made your skin crawl. Was there really no use getting through to this man? Was his skin really that dense and thick?

“How you got Captain America to be your best friend, I will never know.” You mumble under your breath.

He doesn’t give you any indication, but he heard you.

He was trying to the best of his ability to not think about the answer to your question.

But he couldn’t help it as memories engulfed his brain. If there was anything worst than remembering the bad things he had done, it was remembering the good man he was before hell took over.

Bucky hadn’t always been an asshole. He knew used to be a good guy, and he used to be happy. That was back when he had something to live for.

After he was brainwashed and after he participated in decades of horror and violence, everything he had ever been was stripped away from his character.

He wasn’t that free spirit boy anymore.

He never would be ever again.

It killed him that he had been deprived of happiness and life.

Your presence was only a constant reminder of that. He didn’t need you, he didn’t want you near him or to help him.

Flashes of his ex-fiancé run through his mind and it triggers him instantly. He pulls his hood tighter over his head again, not wanting any emotion to show on his face.

He feels the blood in his head and he feels that longing for touch; for care.

He couldn’t think of her. He wouldn’t. And he certainly would not allow himself to think about the man he used to be, something you seemed to be digging at constantly.

An hour later you were both out of the fog. The skies above were starting to turn all different warm shades of beautiful purples and oranges. You both know sleep would not come again until tonight, so for the rest of the day, you would continue your travel south. You were halfway down an open field of overturned cars and abandoned homes. It was clear you were both in what used to be a middle-income family suburban area. Most of the homes are two to three stories, but what once used to be beautiful mowed lawns, were now overgrown weeds and wildflowers. Some of the homes’ doors were open, and you couldn’t help but try to peer inside to see what might’ve happened. Did the family leave in a rush? Were they ambushed? You feel a tight feeling in your chest as you remember your mom and dad. For most of your life, they had been your only ground, the only people to truly love you aside from Will. You still never understood why no one in school liked you, if it was because your family had more money due to being politicians or maybe because of politics in general - you never knew. But it hurt.

When you took your kickboxing class, it had helped majorly with your pent up anger and frustration - more so than any self given orgasm - and you never regretted taking it.

If anything, now here with the gorgeous Devil Incarnate himself, you regret not taking more of it.

You continue to look down the street. There’s a specific small building that catches your eye. The windows on the sides are shattered. The sharp shards on the sides attached to the building were pointed inwards, glass and dried blood mixed with dirt which you could faintly see inside just past the window.

Bucky parts his arm out to stop you, and you look over at him confused. His brows are itched together in confusion and he’s got his gun in a tight grip in his left hand. He shushes you and his eyes dart around wildly. You try to hear for what he hears but it’s evident that it was something only he could pick up on because of his super hearing.

His gaze quickly goes towards the left and he motions with his finger for you to follow him. A couple of more houses later and you both look inside one of the small ones. It’s a light blue home with black shudders. This door was also open and you could see straight into the stairs that led up to the second floor of the home.

There in the foyer was a small dear.

Bucky must have thought the same exact thing you did as he brings his gun up towards his face. He’s just about to pull the trigger when you put your hand on his elbow, not stopping him but making him halt.

“Are you sure we should shoot it? We don’t want to draw any attention.”

He shrugs with his one shoulder, “You want lunch?”

He’s got a point. Sure, you both had your fruits and herbs which is not awful. But just the thought of meat sounded so nice. You slowly let go of his elbow and Bucky presses the trigger.

The noise of the gunfire echoes through the empty town. Even with a silencer, it sounded loud. You both watch as the dear collapses to the side, a gunshot dead center between its eyes.

Bucky swings his gun over. “Come on.” He says.

You both reach down to grab the dear. He grabs it by the head and you grab the two hind legs.

She didn’t look too old, maybe a couple of months. So she wasn’t too large. It would be just enough meat for both of you.

Bucky’s walking backward out the front door of the home when you ask.

“So we’ll haul this thing until we see woods?”

“Don’t fool yourself. We’ll just bring it around the corner over there. I’ll set up a small fire or something.” You raise an amused brow as his eagerness to eat the animal.

He wasn’t wrong, just a couple of yards off the road there was a small park. You watched, intrigued, as he removed his glove and cut the animal at the belly, the loud squelching sound echoing around you as its inside spilled onto the earth.

After he finished gutting the deer, you watched as he slid the meat off the skin and bone with skill. It didn’t take too long for him to walk over you with two small halves of breasts of red meat, one in each hand.

“Grab your water bottle and just drizzle some water over it.” You do as told and you watch curiously as he cleans the carcass, leaving it red and finally appetizing looking.

You help in building the fire while he jams two sticks into each meat slab. He hands you one and he keeps the other. You both sit there for maybe forty-five minutes, cooking, and finally eating the season-less food. It’s bland and it tastes gamey. But like meat, nonetheless.

You’re both quick on your feet and back on the road again not too long after. Bucky’s got his hands on his backpack straps, holding tightly.

“We shouldn’t have stopped.”

You try not to groan.

“We were hungry.” He’s shaking his head, “We lost time. We put down our guard. It can’t happen again.”

“It’s only late morning —“

“We should be halfway past the river by now.”

You take a deep breath at his tone, trying your best to not lose your temper. Why must he be so difficult?

“We’re fine.”

He turns fully towards you, “We are not fine!”

He stops walking and so do you.

“It’s not even midday.”

“We,” he takes a step closer to you and you swallow thickly at his arrogant aura, “are supposed to reach The Capitol tomorrow night. That should not change. It has to be tomorrow. No later. You holding me back won’t change that, if it comes down to it, I’ll leave you behind,” he looks down your face, “It’s not like I need your help.”

Your nostrils flare and your teeth clench together.

It happens quickly. He’s in your face, looking for another throw down, and then he’s falling backward with a heavy grunt.

Your heart beats away like crazy and you feel a fear you hadn’t felt in a very long time. You hadn’t felt it since you ran into a nomad a year ago. They had tried to kill you, just like they had Will.

You’re on your knees, grabbing Bucky by the shoulder as he’s half-sitting. You tilt him over until you see what looks like an arrow coming out of his upper shoulder.

“Oh my god, oh my god, okay. It’s okay, let me just —” you’re mumbling at lost for what to do, your hand hovering like crazy around the arrow, afraid to actually touch it. It doesn’t help that Bucky is breathing quickly through his nose, his nose and eyes pinched together in what could only be intense pain.

Next, he does something that you had never seen anyone do in real life before. He grabs the arrow with his opposite arm and he pulls it straight out with a deep grunt followed by a whimper. You watch in horror as blood escapes the slit into the cotton of his coat.

Next, he pulls you down until you’re on him and it startles you until you realize your mistake, another arrow shooting right past your head and into the field behind you.

“Stay the hell down.” He tells you. You do as told, too afraid to do anything else. With his good arm, he pushes himself until he’s sitting and he maneuvers into a position where he can get his gun out but he quickly lowers it back down again, “Damnit, it’s a kid.”

“What?”

“It’s a kid,” Bucky repeats. You watch from the ground as he raises himself up to a stand, “But the bow down, kid. We won’t hurt you.” The kid doesn’t say anything, “We’re not infected.”

You don’t know what the kid looks like nor what he’s doing, but a few long seconds pass before Bucky reaches his hand down, motioning for you to stand up.

You turn around to see that there’s in fact a kid with a bow and arrow and he wears a long coat, but very useless in comparison to yours. For a second you feel pity. He’s dirty and he looks very tired. No way he was any older than seventeen, his little ginger hair poking out from under his dark green beanie.

He looks between you and Bucky, his grip on his bow tight.

You want to tell him about the Avengers camp just outside of the city, and you look at Bucky, waiting for him to tell him. But he doesn’t.

You feel guilty and also angry at Barnes. You take a step forward, “There’s a place you can—”

“We were just on our way out of here.” Bucky cuts you off sharply, knowing what you were gonna do. His mouth is in a straight line, “We mean no harm.”

The boy says nothing for a bit and then looks back at you again. It kills you.

Eventually, he nods, pulling his beanie over his forehead.

Bucky sighs once the boy is gone. He grips his hurt shoulder tightly with his metal arm.

“Hurts like a bitch.” He groans.

You had almost forgotten he was hurt. You look down at his shoulder.

“Let me see it.” “It’s fine, it’s practically superficial. Nothing my serum can’t fix in a few hours.” Still, you reach your hand over covering his metal hand with your own over his wound, “What are you doing?” “Helping with the pressure to stop the bleeding.” After a bit, you lift your hand and he lifts his own, happy to see the blood had stopped oozing so much. “See?”

He doesn’t acknowledge your help, but instead just spins back towards the direction you were both going. “We need to keep going.”

“Why didn’t you tell him about the camp?” Bucky doesn’t say anything, “That’s kinda rich. Holding onto something that could potentially save his life.” “It’s not a refugee camp, trust me he would not do well there and people would not want him there, he’s just fine out on his own.” “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me he wouldn’t do well with food and water? A shower, maybe?” Bucky takes a deep breath, “Please tell me because, clearly, I don’t understand.” “Because it’d be just like that damn place! Like that damn wall we’re going to. Don’t you see that? We can’t just create another place like that, not when it can potentially become something just as horrible, we can’t just trust anyone.”

You kind of understood it, but your heart still felt heavy and your face falls sullenly.

“But he’s just a kid.” “Yeah, well so was I.”

His answer leaves you angrier and wanting to know more all at the same time. Who was this man?  Would you ever know? When you had heard about Bucky Barnes in high school and college, this is not what you had in mind at all.

You both didn’t share another word, the air still tense between the both of you, for the rest of the day. For dinner, you both ate an apple on the go and walked and walked. You even make it past the river in silence.

Thankfully, the weather today wasn’t so bad. It wasn’t too brittlely cold and there were no more cities or towns.

Just woods - just the way you like it.

Bucky doesn’t have to say anything to you and neither do you to him. Maybe it would have to be this way for the next six months.

The sun is gone when you both find yourselves walking through a deserted amusement park.

“We’ll sleep here tonight,” Bucky says. He points to a carousel, and it creeps you out. The horses’ eyes are still bright as if painted on yesterday, “We’ll sleep in there.”

You don’t complain. You didn’t feel like talking to him anymore today.

Anyway, tomorrow would be the last day before you both reached The Capitol.

Hopefully tonight you’ll actually get some damn rest.

+ + +

It was in Indiana and Rebecca was the best little sister Bucky could possibly ask for.

So much that he’d come home from school with his adolescent hands tied behind his back holding a little gift for her almost every day.

She’d jump out in front of him with her little puppy eyes.

“Bucky!” She’d squeal, throwing her tiny arms around his shin.

Just her happiness made him smile so hard that his eyes would crinkle up at the sides.

After he’d hand her the little bag of chocolates and give her head a little ruffle, she’d say:

“Daddy says he’s been waiting for you, Bucky.”

Bucky gave her a small smirk, “I know, just wanted to get my best girl her little chocolates first,” he’d shrug his shoulder nonchalantly, “I am the best brother in the world, aren’t I?”

“Best brother, sure. But seriously, your father has been driving me mad. You were supposed to be here an hour ago.” Bucky’s mother had walked into the foyer, her voice taunting and dripping with discipline.

Bucky’s smile dropped slightly as he brought a nervous hand around his neck, rubbing there.

He would squint his gorgeous blue eyes and bite bottom lip slightly in fear.

He always knew what would happen when he made his father late to camp.

He remembers the last time when his father made him run 5 miles non-stop through the heavy downpour.  

Right after, he’d have him slouch under the barbed wires purposefully making it lower, making him cut himself various times.

His hot tears would mix in with the rain, making it essentially pointless.

It wasn’t that his father was evil, but he was strict. He said it was to help him build character over what matters most and to make him strong.

Bucky still remembers the first time he held a gun. It was as if a part of him that was missing was finally in its place. And his father caught on too - he was born to be a sniper.  

“One day, you’ll be the best. Maybe even a better man than me.” His dad had said.

[starcrossedjedis]

It's a quarter to NaNoWriMo - and this year we get stressed out early...

... aka. "I have too many a few ideas and I could use some external input on my pre-choices"

-

1. The Fanfics

a) Mischief and Mayhem (Harry Potter) - I love Liv. I love Liv and Fred. I have neglected them completely ever since posting the prologue, soooOooo...

b) Starcrossed (Star Wars) - because while I haven't really ever written anything for them, I just can't seem to find a way to let go of my lovesick Jedi bbs. Nyka'a and Jaren are life.

-

2. The Original Fantasy

a) Children of Salem - because it wouldn't be preNaNo without my witchy baby Lily, the brooding LomL Kaleb and their darling coven. The world needs more witches always.

b) The Prince's Bride - a handsome prince falls in love with his betrothed's lady in waiting and risks everything he is and has in the name of true love. a fairytale of sorts, love, magic, intrigue. Damien and Selena have been with me for so long, they really do deserve to be on this list.

-

3. The "maybe if I put it on Wattpad Netflix will make a mediocre movie out of it"

a) Save Me - elaborate Bodyguard Fantasy. Former child star just wants a quiet life as a teacher, but a stalker has other plans, so a hunky ex soldier is hired as her security detail. Hot.

b) Death of a Bachelor - basically a Beauty and the Beast Coffeeshop!AU. Belle is a barrista and post grad in NYC who very suddenly finds herself without a place to live. Unexpected help arrives in the form of Adam, a handsome, but unreasonably angry young man who visits the community center next door for court ordered anger management sessions....

c) Make your Pointe! - because dance school stories never get old. especially when they entail the good tropes like fake dating, real feelings and the natural creates magic with the uptight hard working one. I changed the whole cast this summer and I am still in love with it.

soooo... feel free to lemme know if there is a story you are interested in or to shoot me questions about any of those. and if you really wanna do me in, also feel free to tell me if you feel like this list is missing a story that really should be there xD

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten: Another Mother's Breakin'

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

"Jane."

The recruit let the knocking go on for a third round, slowly shaking herself from the rickety cot. While these digs were nothing as fancy as the bunk back at the mall, the privacy was a paradise. Blank, dull, metal-lined walls were a price she was willing to pay over the colorful and plant-lined walls of the barracks. The humming noise of life rebuilding, no she belonged in the silence.

"Jane." This time her name was a statement, backed by a hint of threat.

"Just a moment," she groaned, rubbing the crust from the inner corners of her eyes, pushing sore muscles upright and forcing a shirt over her head but allowing it to fall at its own pace. Her pupils narrowed at the sudden influx of light filling her half of the crate, "morning?"

Helen looked her up and down, that damned frown a returning friend, "you should put a comb through that hair."

"For fuck's sa-"

The woman made a sudden jerk, but it stopped with a simple raising of her arm, brushing aside a fallen lash, "language, dear."

"Sorry," Jane's eyebrows narrowed, had she forgotten she was not a child, "why are you here?"

"Because we are going out."

"Don't I have three more days?" Jane returned.

The older woman in a rare admittance of defeat sighed, offering back a raised eyebrow, "you're well aware that was a ruse."

"I knew it!" she didn't.

"Yes, let's be proud that you are stubborn as they warned," Helen retorted with a hint of a smirk, "but you should be ready. I'm not going to let you slide and get breakfast, either!"

Yes, this encampment was a military installment, but it gave no reason to ready herself with the rest of the soldiers. Since Rahna had given up on her she did little to get out of her bunk. So far, her secret remained, but pushing it by becoming a regular around camp seemed too big of a risk. Evelyn gave her some reason to get out, but the kid quickly found friends. Within days she was no longer needed, though the shit still visited at least once a day that prodded her into some form of semblance. The lack of duties cemented her decision to remain secluded, bidding her time with the running videos in her head.

"So why me?" Jane pressed once they cleared the base by a few thousand meters, pulling the ration bar from her mouth.

The woman's dark eyes turned cross, "and don't you waste those rations."

"You'll never want them again after fresh produce," Jane murmured, swallowing down the bland brick of nutrition in three bites.

"The second reason for coming out here," Helen handed over a pistol, "fresh meat and pest removal."

"You know, someplace on Illium would sell Varren skewers as a delicacy," Jane overlooked the pistol with a grin, "man, could that krogan grill up a mean varren skewer."

"The pistol is back up; you should use biotics. No stunts," she warned without heed of her companion's previous comment.

"I'm a paragon of caution," Jane mumbled in response, deciding then it was best to follow after the woman in silence. Pausing only as her leader stopped.

"No stunts," a finger waggled at her, "that kid and her grandfather want you back, and I intend to see that through, despite your best attempts."

Jane giggled, "the LT would love that one."

"Dismiss it all you like, whinge that someone cares about your sorry hide," the woman spat, "you're being selfish. Everyone is hurting if you haven't noticed."

Jane's face drew blank, "while it's true, doesn't it feel better to be pissed off? To be angry that everything is changed? Fuck everyone else. I'm hurting." She looked over the horizon, directly into the blue beam that connected to the Citadel. It seemed so tiny from here, so insignificant.

Helen's gaze followed Jane's gaze, "trying to remember how much worse it could be rarely helps."

"I like to make myself feel better by telling myself that I'm angering out of grief; it's one of the stages, right? But what is there after it? I don't want to let it go and accept my world is gone," Jane's voice mellowed to a whisper, "acceptance is terrifying. It means you have to move forward."

They shared a silent moment together, connecting with a brief touch—neither alone as they thought.

"Who did you lose?"

"My heart."

"Who did you lose?"

"...my heart."

Horizon- Horizon was an awkward fumbling in the dark. An overhanded display The Illusive Man decided to lord over her. He knew her strings and just how to pluck them to make her dance to his tune. Pulling Kaidan into the entire mess with the Collectors was a threat. But as messy and powerless as the knowledge of what the Illusive Man would take from her was the undercurrent of hope. It was foolish to be caught up in the giddy excitement of returned love, But Kaidan loved her. The first confession and bitter tug on her heart. She should have told him then.

Mars- Mars was just as awkward. Running, sliding, and dodging bullets after months of being cooped up in a small apartment awaiting trial. Sideways glances, and a Major who wouldn't stop dogging her every step. He questioned, prodded, and accused her of terrible things. Granted, she well deserved it. He was so close, so in sync as if the years were mere minutes... yet the distance between them was a canyon wide. But the Major loved her, even if it was once upon a time. A lighthearted exchange broke some of the tension, but she still should have told him then.

The Citadel- "What's up" had to be the lamest greeting after an armed standoff. Not a clasping hug, not a gentle smile, instead she vocalized her worry that he was angry. She hadn't taken the shot at Udina, and she had made Kaidan make that impossible decision. To trust her word, to trust an ex-terrorist. It was too much to ask of anyone- but now she was someone he was in love with. Not a past tense, a was, but a current thing. Still, she fumbled, asking him to let her have it and killing any hope of a romantic reunion. Her stolen glances at his backside caught in the act gave him a sheepish glance away and not the confession he was owed.

The Citadel Pt. II- After a shamelessly little amount of convincing, she had found herself in a dress. It was supposed to be simple- a snack on the Citadel. But she had hoped for more, the flirting, the longing stares, compliments, and a little bit of girlish enthusiasm from Kaidan she dared to think they had a chance. It was the first 'I love you' the extra 'I always have' sending her heart fluttering into erratics that she fought to control, lest she make a scene. The graze of his tender lips against her palm relinquished any grasp she had left on that errant heart, the thundering of the heartbeat clouding her brain. The jealousy the rest of her skin felt for her palm stealing another confession.

2181 Despoina- Kaidan would always rue his attraction to adventurous women. Not the woman, but the spark that drove him there. She was always at risk; her daily amount of adventure qualified as a heroic event for most other citizens of the galaxy. For her, it was a normal Tuesday night. But still, he worried, and still, he continued to love her for the constant stress she brought him. Loved her recklessness because it was as much part of her as her freckles. In the wordless hours of the night, his grip always tighter after a harrowing encounter, she was silent.

The Normandy- Neither of them wanted a quick drink. It was a little silly, after all these years, after all his confessions, to still feel insecure about inviting Kaidan up to her cabin. Instead of being direct, he invented the excuse of a short drink to see her. To comfort each other- when they both knew they needed it. Everything felt so final, the end a ticking bomb, an end to the short time they had together. She found strength in him, a safety in knowing she had someone that would catch her. He loved her openly and proudly. He loved her without needing the words returned.

London- It was unreal, after three years finally approaching the finish line. Loss and love in equal measure. Now, it was time for her to go it alone. It was unnatural, and she fought against the notion. She didn't want to be alone- not at the end. Not after this blissful glimpse into the way love had brightened every facet of her being. Kaidan would gladly face a bitter end with her, going arm in arm to meet Garrus at the bar. But it was a fucked kind of love that pushed her to make him leave. The same love that screamed at him to get the hell off the Normandy, the love that now albeit gently pleaded with him to live. It wasn't a roar or a cry of victory but a rumble- a tender declaration. Kaidan knew, even if it took him repeating his love a thousand times over. Six was a good number, short. The heart knew it was needed.

"So refresh my memory," Jane questioned in a whisper, trying not to draw the entire den of Varren upon them at once, "just how many we are planning on bringing back?"

"Are you that keen on vaporizing them all?"

"I certainly can."

"Wouldn't that defeat one of our goals?"

"Well, I don't think you accounted for the transportation of a Varren," Jane noted, looking behind them at the lack of vessel to transport said game.

Jane was ignored with a huff, the woman peering around a blockade, "I want that one."

Jane took a look, the brown striped specimen had to top the list of heaviest varren she had seen, "seriously?"

"Yes. Jane."

"Aye, Aye, Ma'am."

There wasn't time for a seething look or the smarmy reply that would have followed. The creature floated, air-bound as if the weight of the animal defied gravity. It kicked at the air, unable to stop itself from moving toward the barrier that blocked the scent of view of its hunters. Jane yanked her hand forward, dragging against the invisible weight. It felt good, if not for the shred of panic that she might lose time again. The tell-tale sign of blood was not forthcoming.

The blast of sound ricocheting through the plaza quickly overcame any remaining fear.

"Whatever you do, do not approach these things," the recruit barked, yanking the older woman into the corner spot, "they will overwhelm you if they get close."

"Aye, Aye, Ma'am."

The pack burst from all corners, running full boar in the direction of their fallen packmate. Several running members fell in the chaos, while a line of biotic energy sent the group careening into nearby walls and structures. For what inexperience was worth, Helen held up well, keeping up trained focus on the beasts. The old lady had precision aim, wasting hardly a clip during the charge. Jane didn't have to pick up much slack. Now, if there were a third member, everything would be peachy.

The square was silent for a count of three before a single varren cried out loudly.

The alpha was on scene.

While she had not promised to keep from committing to a hair-brained stunt, biotic shockwaves and lifts were boring. A teenage biotic could perform these moves without a sweat, a N7 needed a challenge. She needed the thrill. Blue waves coalesced and pulsed around her form, the familiar vibration against her skin pleasurable. A fluid vault over the barrier propelling her charge into the lone Varren, sending it toppling from the blow. Jane dove for it, pummeling it with blasts of biotic energy until her knuckles bled.

This was no longer a stunt but a method of release.

"Seems those biotics are back online," Helen murmured, wiping something from her eyes.

Jane cocked her head, "where'd you learn to shoot?"

"That? Oh. I thought they'd go out like a coyote."

The blonde smirked, dismounting the alpha's corpse, wiping her fists against a clean portion of the animal's hide. Nothing from Tuchanka went down quietly.

Helen stood over her prize, after a long minute she looked at Jane expectantly, "aren't you going to grab that?"

"Your trophy, your struggle," Jane folded her arms in return, a sly grin crossing her face, "besides, by the way we snuck out of that base, I don't need any more blame for this... what would you call this, stunt?"

"We did not sneak-" but the woman's face betrayed her guilt.

"Yeah, it's normal procedure to hop a barricade at the precise moment the guard changed," Jane knew a thing or two about sneaking out. She'd even stolen a ship twice.

Helen didn't have to struggle with the corpse long before Jane took pity on the woman; she had an unfair advantage anyway. Genetic enhancements, bone grafting, and a little biotic lifting. Unfortunately, she would still be sore when they got back to base.

"Why the need to sneak out anyway? I'm sure you could have roped anyone into helping you," Jane was under no illusion that the woman had any particular like for her, if anything, the woman looked at her with increasing scrutiny.

"None of them would dare."

"Oh?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Jane understood the sentiment completely.

[steves-on-a-plane]

Better Together

Words: 2042 Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader   Request: “Hello, favorite blog writer! :) I may also request a Bucky Imagine where maybe he's your Ex (breaking up cause of he doesnt want to get you in danger cause of the avengers) but he is lost without you and totally changed in the bad way, but you feel the same.. then one night he wants to leave the Avengers behind but Steves get you there and you convince him to stay while hes already on his bike.. then you talk, decide to give your love another chance annnd end up in bed :) hehe. THAAANK YOU DOLL” - Anon Summary: Steve Rogers comes knocking on Reader’s door in the middle of the night. He shows her a note from her Ex Bucky who plans on leaving the Avengers and starting a new life. Steve thinks Reader is the only one who can convince Bucky he’s already where he belongs.

You woke up in the middle of the night. You’d been tossing and turning most of it but that was nothing new. You’d been having trouble sleeping ever since he broke up with you. He said he was doing it to protects you. A part of you knew that his concerns were genuine. He always said he loved you and you could tell when you looked into his eyes that he meant it. Being the significant other of an Avenger had its risks. That was why Clint had kept his entire family secret, even from the rest of the team. There was plenty of news footage to act as proof of the dangers Tony had put Pepper in.

The only difference between you and Laura Barton or Pepper Potts, was that you knew what you’d signed up for. You didn’t know Bucky before the Winter Soldier. You’d only been a part of his journey after he tried to separate himself from that persona. It wasn’t as if you’d lived a normal life together for some time and then he happened to get invited to join at team that put the world at danger just as often as it saved it. But, just like the first time he’d told you he loved you, once Bucky decided to leave, there was no changing his mind.

It had been roughly three months since he’d left. He’d asked the others to stay away to help keep you safe, so when Bucky left most of your friends did too. They all had loved ones of their own and they knew they’d do anything to protect them. The team didn’t agree with Bucky’s decision, but they at least tried to respect it. You wished they had respected you enough to ask for your opinion instead of treating you like a child too fragile to handle yourself.

Your throat felt scratchy and dry. You decided to get up and get a drink of water. It wasn’t like you were going to be going back to sleep any time soon. You ambled into the kitchen letting loose a loud yawn. You rubbed your eyes and made your way over to the sink. You’d just been about to fill a glass with tap water when you heard a knock on your apartment door. Your eyes glanced over at the microwave. It was four in the morning.

“Who in the world…?” You abandoned your task at hand to peek through the peephole. Steve Rogers was standing in the hall. He and Sam were the only ones who didn’t abide by Bucky’s no contact rule. They both told you many times and on separate occasions that they were sure Bucky would come to his sense soon. You opened the door and motioned for Steve to step inside.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be awake.” He confessed as you closed the door behind him.

“Couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged. You folded your arms over your chest. “Shouldn’t you be at the compound pretending I don’t exist?”

“Probably.” Steve shrugged. “You know he’s just doing what he thinks is best.”

“Yeah, but you know that just because he thinks it’s best that doesn’t make it the only option, right?” You sighed.

“Believe me, I do. That’s why I’m here actually.” Steve confessed. “He’s leaving, [Y/N]. He packed all his things at the compound. He left me a note.” Steve handed over a piece of paper that looked like it had in fact been scratch across in Bucky’s impatient font. You looked down at the note and began to scan it quickly.

“Rogers, By the time you’re reading this, I’ll already be gone. Don’t bother trying to follow me. I appreciate everything you’ve tried to do for me over the years, but I need a fresh start, a real fresh start. You’ve been the best friend I could have ever asked for but this is the end of the line Pal. -Buck.”

“You have any idea where he may be going?” Steve questioned. You looked up at Captain America. His brows were knit together with worry. His lips were turned down into a frown that didn’t seem appropriate on the face on the Star-Spangled Man.

“Actually, yeah. Are you sure we should go after him, Steve? He seems pretty sure that this is what he wants.” You hesitated.

“Well, he seemed pretty sure that calling things off with you was what he wanted too.” Steve told you. “He’s been a mess without you, [Y/N]. He’s been second guessing every decision he’s made. He’s been short tempered. He doesn’t sleep well. He won’t talk with anyone unless it’s about work. I Think you’re the only one who can convince him to stay.”

“I couldn’t even convince him to stay with me, Steve.” You disagreed. “But maybe together we can prove to him that he’s better off with the team than he would be alone. I’ll get my coat.”

Steve programed the address you gave him into his car’s GPS. The directions led to a log cabin in Virginia that Bucky had purchased a few years ago. Steve parked his car in the driveway. It didn’t look like Bucky had arrived yet.

“I didn’t even know he had this place.” Steve gaped. “You’re sure this is where he’ll come?”

“This would be my best guess. It was supposed to be a secret. He got the idea from Clint.” You told him. “He wanted a place to hide in case he ever lost control again.”

“Why did he tell you about it?” Steve asked. He was clearly a little hurt that his lifelong best friend had trusted you with such a big secret.

“At the time, he told me that if he ever lost control again, I’d be the only one who would be able to pull him out of it. You think you can handle this?” You questioned.

“He’d do the same for me.” Steve said before getting out of the car. You followed after him, the two of you began to walk the perimeter of the house, looking for any indication that Bucky may have already been there and left. After only a few minutes you heard the familiar purr of a motorcycle. You turned a corner as Bucky cut the engine. Because it was still dark out, he didn’t see you or Steve at first. However, he certainly recognized his best friend’s vehicle.

“How the hell did you find me, Rogers?” Bucky mumble to himself.

“A little bird told me.” Steve confessed, He stepped closer to Bucky, which activated a motion sensor light above Bucky’s garage.

“That makes sense.” Bucky sighed when he saw you standing next to Steve.

“Can we talk?” You wondered, stepping closer to him.

“We have talked, [Y/N].” He answered. “I don’t have anything else to say. To you or him.” He nodded at Steve. He tried to walk past both of you towards his front door. You reached out for his wrist to stop him but you fingers only brushed against cool vibranium. He continued walking.

“Well, I do.” You called after him. That seemed to catch his attention briefly. He looked back at you over his shoulder.

“Do you remember what you said, when you took me here?” You called out to him.

“That was years ago. It was a different time, [Y/N].” He shook his head.

“It wasn’t so long ago, Buck.” You insisted, stepping closer. “You said you always wanted a place like this, away from the city. A quiet place to raise a family. You said you liked this house because it had potential, it gave you hope. Hope that we could have a brighter future together than your dark past.” You took another step closer to him and pointed to a large oak tree in the backyard. “You said that tree would be perfect for a tree house, handmade like your grandparents had at their house. The kind with a tire swing hung from a lower branch.”

“That was a pipe dream, [Y/N].” Bucky argued.

“It was more than that.” You insisted. “It was a future we can still have, together. We can be together, James. We can make this work. We can have the two point five kids with a tree house, a dog and a white picket fence, and in another thirty years we can have three rocking chairs out on the back deck enjoying the life we build. It won’t be easy, we’ll have to fight like hell, but you’ve given up too much to not get a happy ending.”

“Three chairs?” Bucky repeated.

“Yeah, when I picture us way older, Steve’s always there. I just want to be prepared in case he never marries and ends up living with us when he’s retired.” You explained. “You know I’ll age faster than you two, so I like to think that instead of remarrying the two of you grow old together. It sounds weird when I say it out loud.” You rolled your eyes. You could just make out the slightest hint of a smirk on Bucky’s face in the moonlight.

“So, in your fantasy reality where we end up together and you are presumably my wife, you envision my best friend living with us?” He chuckled.

“He’s family.” You shrugged. “What else would we do? Put him in a nursing home? Family takes care of each other, especially when they don’t know how to take care of themselves.”

“Alright, alright. Point taken.” You watched Bucky’s shoulders slump and he heaved a great sigh. “I’ll admit, I may have been acting a bit…irrational, the past few months. The truth is, none of this is how I pictured my life turning out.  Sometimes I get into my own head and, it’s hard to love myself, so I can’t understand how anyone else would. I truly don’t deserve the two of you.”

“Nonsense,” Steve came to stand beside you. “There’s no one else on earth stubborn enough to track you down.”

“You know something, Rogers, I think you might be right.” Bucky smiled.

“[Y/N]’s right too, Buck. We’re family. We stand by each other. We fight together. Especially if that fight is against our own instincts.” Steve said.

“It’s pretty cold out here.” Bucky observed. “You guys want to come inside?”

“I think maybe the two of you need time to talk. Can you make sure she get’s home alright?” Steve questioned.

“She already is home. We’ve got it from here, Rogers.” Bucky assured him. “Thank you.”

“Till the end of the line.” Steve told him before walking back to his car.

“You have time to talk?” He asked you. Bucky started walking towards his front door.

“Yeah,” you nodded, following after him. “But truthfully Buck, I’m exhausted. I haven’t been sleeping great and Steve got me all full of adrenaline on the way over. Now that I know you’re okay, my body is finally starting to register that it’s five in the morning and I should be sleeping. Could I maybe crash on your couch and we can talk in the morning?”

You looked around realizing the house had hardly any furniture. The front door opened to an empty entry way. Bucky kicked his shoes off and left them in the middle of the floor. To your left was a living room with just an old big box TV & a couch. To the right, was a dining room, which was filled with bins and boxes, probably everything he’d moved from the Compound.

“I have a bed you know.” He offered as you took off your boots. “For you.” He added, I can sleep on the couch.

“Steve said you haven’t been sleeping well, you should take the bed. You need the rest.” You insisted.

“You said yourself that you’re having trouble sleeping.” Bucky reminded you.

“Yeah, didn’t realize how much I hated sleeping alone until you left.” You confessed.

“I know the feeling.” He chuckled. “Nearly called you that first night and begged you to take me back. Plenty of room for the two of us. We could both get a decent night’s sleep for the first time in months and we can figure out everything else in the morning.”

“Count me in.” You yawned.

[sxveme-2]

strawberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

SEQUEL TO BLUEBERRY PANCAKES

DESCRIPTION: Lily Osborne and Bucky Barnes were never blessed with an easy relationship. Whether it be emotional trauma, or Lily's parents trying to be evil scientists. But they somehow made it work, after coming together once again after the birth of Lily's nephew. They were smooth sailing for a while. He proposed, they got engaged, but have yet to marry. While also juggling raising a teenager together as Hunter reaches the age of 16 now. All the while struggling with adjusting to their new lives in Long Island, balancing careers. Meanwhile, Lily struggles with the new found fame of being the fiancé of The White Wolf; and handling the tabloids critiques on her life and gossip columns digging up any information they can on her. While trying to maintain a low profile; and handle her life as it is. And becoming parents. Lily for the second time, while Bucky, well, this is his first attempt at a biological child. All the while a new threat from their past rises up once again, blind siding the family. Bringing forward old hatchets that had been buried, and putting their relationship at risk once more.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

STATUS: Unedited

NOTES: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Three: The One With Their Marriage

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2923

    “Don’t start this right now Lily,” Bucky sighed, running his hands down his face, “It’s been a long day.”

“Been a long two years,” she muttered, staring at the ring on her finger, fiddling with it, “You know in a month it’ll be two years since you proposed?”

“Yes I know,” he grunted, readjusting in the bed to face the blonde, “We’ve both been so busy.”

Sure, they had been busy. With both working full-time, raising Stella, and handling teenage mood swings from Hunter, there wasn’t a whole lot of time left in the day for them to plan a wedding. But it’s not like they had no time at all, it had been two years since Bucky had dropped down on one knee and asked Lily to marry him. Two years later, she went by his last name, mothered his child, and lived her life with him. But he was always the one to push the marriage portion of their relationship aside. He never wanted to talk about it or even consider planning something.

“Steve and Nat are busy,” Lily retorted, turning to look at the brunette as he readjusted the reading glasses on his face, “But they’re getting married next week, Bucky.”

Lily longed for the security of a marriage. Many people thought that because of her traumatic experience with being married in the past, she wouldn’t want to go through that again. But in reality, she wanted it more than ever with Bucky. She knew he loved her and vice versa, but having an official concrete answer is something she longed for. They’d already had a kid, she’d taken his last name, they had done everything that traditionally happens after marriage. But then again, their relationship was anything but traditional.

“Steve’s retired,” Bucky countered, dropping his book down onto the bed with a sigh, “Where is this coming from? I thought we’d agreed on this.”

“First of all, no, we didn’t agree on anything,” Lily chuckled, rolling her eyes, “You got frustrated and walked away. And I don’t know...the comments people make are just…”

Groaning, Bucky flopped back down onto his back, “You’re shitting me? That’s what’s causing this? God, Lily.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” Lily scoffed back, looking at the man, “When all I see are rumours about why you won’t marry your child’s mother and your own damn fiance!”

One thing about Bucky and Lily’s relationship is the fact that it was something so human, that both of them were shocked by it most of the time. Neither had experienced much normalcy in their love lives throughout their time but brought it to each other at such a domestic level that it freaked them out. Specifically Bucky. He had always dreamed of something as simple and organic as what he had with Lily, but after becoming the Winter Soldier, he was never sure he’d be able to have it.

But the small arguments and squabbles between them reminded Bucky that he had achieved something great. He had beat his demons and found love with someone who didn’t see him as an Avenger, or ex HYDRA agent, but as Bucky. He wasn’t Steve Rogers’s best friend or Sam Wilson’s partner in crime. He was just Bucky. Lover, fiance, father. Whenever they visited his sister in Manhattan, he would always pull the man aside and tell him just how lucky he had been to score someone like Lily.

-----

“Hunter, why don’t we go see how the chicken’s doing in the kitchen while Auntie Rebecca talks with Bucky?” Lily whispered, leading the young boy out of the room with a knowing nod to her boyfriend’s sister.

Bucky sat just adjacent to his sister, sipping on a glass of water. He watched Lily walk out with Hunter, admiring the wait her hair moved gently across her back as she moved. Every day he saw her, he fell deeper in love with the blonde. She was everything Bucky longed for in life and so much more. From the moment she handed him his wallet in the cafe a year ago, he knew she was the one for him. Just the way her eyes looked at him. Through the facade and through the public’s interpretation of him.

“I’ve never seen that look on your face before,” Rebecca commented, crossing her legs and lowering her gaze at her brother, “It’s something I only ever see when you’re looking at Lily.”

“I can’t help it,” he whispered, voice trailing off as he admired her in the kitchen, watching as her hands traced patterns on her already swollen stomach, “I didn’t think I’d be able to get someone like her to love me.”

“You didn’t get her to do anything,” Rebecca scoffed, “She fell in love with you willingly...Even after all of these years, you’re still so dramatic.”

“We’re talking about me legally adopting Hunter,” Bucky trailed off, eyes going soft as he met his sisters matching ones, “Becoming a proper family.”

The man’s younger sister rolled her eyes, tucking a piece of her white hair behind her ear, “You became a real family the moment you realized you were in love with her.”

-----

They had never officially filed the adoption paperwork, despite having Scott’s signature. It sat in Lily’s office in a drawer alone, waiting for them to make Hunter an official Barnes. But something always held them back, not necessarily in a bad way. It wasn’t something that really solidified anything for the family. As far as they were all concerned, Hunter was already Bucky’s son. Not by blood, but through the soul. The two were similar in ways Lily found hard to believe sometimes. She wondered if in some freak accident it was really Bucky’s son. She chalked it up to the two merely being kindred spirits.

However, Bucky knew Lily’s insecurities. How she kept every small comment made by the public about their private lives. Whether it be what she wore at an event, or when they were out as a family. Lily had grown more confident in herself but Bucky still saw that scared single mom living in Manhattan he had met all those years ago. Still healing from a broken marriage with an emotionally manipulative husband.

Sighing, the brunette rolled over and caged the blonde underneath him. She stared at him with confused eyes, looking up at the man on top of her with her eyebrows furrowed. He sat there for a second, staring at her face. He already had everything about her memorized, but sometimes, she just took his breath away. How he had managed to fall in love with someone as perfect as Lily was in his eyes...he didn’t have any words for it.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Lily questioned, lifting an eyebrow.

“Do you know how in love with you I am?” He whispered, lifting his flesh hand and brushing his thumb across her cheekbone.

Lowering her amber eyes at him, the blonde shook her head, “Don’t think this is getting you out of this conversation, Barnes.”

Bending down, Bucky placed a soft peck to his girl’s forehead before pushing himself onto his back again, “We’ll start planning tomorrow.”

This time, it was Lily rolling on top of the man, a bright smile on her face as she pressed a passionate and powerful kiss to his lips. He chuckled and laid his hands on her waist, running small patterns into her hips as she continued the assault on his lips. Both of their eyes fluttered shut as they revelled in one another’s touch and presence. The two had found each other in a cafe and became the other half to each other’s hearts that same day. When the blonde pulled back, Bucky chuckled, raising his eyebrow.

“What was that for exactly?” He chuckled, removing his glasses.

“A little sneak peek for what you get tonight,” she cooed, hand reaching down to the hem of his shirt, earning a chuckle from Bucky.

“That’s my girl.”

----

A week later, Lily found herself fussing at her computer as she attempted to find a place to book a wedding dress appointment. Everywhere she had tried was either booked or too far away for her to drive. She didn’t exactly feel like leaving her state to go and find a wedding dress. She had spent her entire day off on the phone with various stores, trying to get an appointment within the next month.

A task that had proven itself to be impossible.

“Whatchu doin’ mom?” Stella hummed as she pushed open the door to Lily’s office, making her way over to the desk.

Glancing down, Lily smiled gently at her daughter, “Trying to find a wedding dress store. Wanna help?” the blonde asked, chuckling as her daughter tried to see over the desk.

Stella nodded, climbing into her mom’s lap as the blonde continued to scroll through a website before the young girl chimed in, “Where?”

Lily sighed as she stroked the brunette’s hair, “Well that’s the problem. Mama can’t seem to find a place. Nowhere I’ve looked has any bookings or any dresses that I like.”

“Where’d you get your first?” she asked, looking up at her mother.

Lily pursed her lips as she looked at her daughter. The memory of her first wedding was something Lily tended to block out of her mind. It was the first night she felt fear that Scott was going to physically harm her. Years after, she had hidden her wedding dress away in a box that now sat in a storage cellar that they had. Stella knew that her mother had been married before and that it was to the man that had helped create Hunter, but nothing more than that. She had seen Scott a few times when he came to give Hunter his birthday or Christmas presents, but that was it. Even then, Stella wouldn’t be able to pick out her mom’s ex-husband in a crowd.

“Well your Uncle had taken me somewhere we had found, but it closed a few years back, bub,” she cooed, tucking a dark strand of hair behind Stella’s ear.

“Will I ever meet him?” She asked, bright blue eyes staring right through Lily, “Uncle Cedar?”

Lily’s heart sunk. She knew that it probably wasn’t the best idea to tell Stella about her Uncle, but she couldn’t just pretend Cedar didn’t exist. He was still Lily’s brother, despite the terrible things he and her parents had done. Bucky and Lily told Stella that her uncle lived in a place they couldn’t go and that it was too far away. But she knew that in a few years, when Stella was older, that she’d find out the truth.

“I don’t think so, darling,” Lily hummed, pressing a kiss to the girl’s temple, “But, why don’t you help mommy get ready for Uncle Steve and Aunt Nat’s dinner tonight?”

“Okay!”

-----

"It's so nice of you guys to come." Nat cooed as she pressed a kiss to Lily's cheek, beckoning her and the man that accompanied her further into the room, "But you're so early!"

"I wanted to make sure we weren't late." Lily hummed.

"We're an hour early, doll." He whispered into her ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it as he pulled away.

"Well someone wanted to do something else," Lily laughed, her lips tight as she nudged him in the ribs, "But I figured we could help out too if we came a bit earlier."

"There's an empty room in the back if he can't contain himself." Steve laughed as he approached, nodding his head at the couple, "Nice to see my best man show up early though."

"Don't get all emotional on me, punk." Bucky chuckled as he removed his arm from Lily's waist, walking forward and wrapping his arms around Steve's shoulders.

"C'mon Lily, let's let these two have their moment to gaze into each other's eyes," Nat chuckled, lacing her arm with the blondes and tugging her away, "Okay what was the real reason you came so early."

"It's true, I was worried that we'd be late." Lily chuckled, taking a seat at a table with the redhead.

It was true. The dinner didn't start until 7:30, and it was only 6:30. But Lily was a punctual person, the last thing she wanted to do was be late for two of her close friend’s rehearsal dinner. Plus, they lived an hour away from Brooklyn, all the way on the coast of Long Island. Lily's hometown. The two were lucky to find the home of their dreams mere weeks after their own engagement and packed up from Lily's suburban colonial in Manhattan to a beautiful beach house on the lake.

The Avengers paid well.

Lily had switched positions to a superhuman consultant at an Avengers-funded hospital in Long Island. She mainly handled child mutants who were developing abilities and helping them through the changes in their body. Bucky on the other hand ran a therapy/group session for veterans, and those who served alongside the Avengers in various battles. It was the perfect outcome for the two, allowing them to work alongside each other in the same building, in opposite wings though. Of course, the two didn't really interact during the day unless a patient was attending a session across the way.

But it also meant that Lily was in direct contact with Tony Stark so often that she wanted to throttle him.

"Look who decided to crash the party!" Tony's voice rang out as he entered the room, a tight smile stretching across Lily's lips.

"Always a pleasure, Stark," Lily sighed, glancing up from her drink and tilting her head as the man walked over, "What brings you here so early?"

"Well I'm the stand-in father of the bride, can't miss my daughter's rehearsal dinner now can I?" Stark chuckled, taking a seat next to Nat, "You look lovely tonight Lily."

Glancing down, Lily assessed her outfit for the night. A flowy dress that reached down to just at her mid-shin. It had slight ruffles at the top along the neckline and near the bottom of the dress and was a lighter shade of black with small red rose decals covering it. It was a nice dress, she had to admit. Rose had brought it over the week before when she visited with Leo.

"You clean up well too, Stark," Lily quipped back, smiling softly when Bucky brought her over a vodka-cranberry, "And I had to look nice, couldn't let robocop over here outshine me."

A light-hearted conversation ensued, allowing Lily to relax a bit more. Bucky kept his hand resting gently on her knee the entire time, rubbing small patterns whenever her words became jumbled or cheek heated up. Small tells that let him know that her mind was racing at a million miles a minute. It was something the two had developed over the last few years of their relationship. It worked vice versa as well, though typically Lily just escorted Bucky away from the conversation.

The two worked together with one another in tandem. Both levelling out what the other was lacking. He reminded her just how loved and beautiful she was, and that he wouldn't change anything about her. While she reminded him that he was not a monster, and what happened was not his own doing. Each was the other's safety net in the crazy lives they lived. But it worked well for them, for four years now.

"Now when are you two going to figure it out and start planning your own wedding," Steve asked as everyone mingled after dinner was finished, "It's been two years since Buck popped the question."

"Oh come on now Steve," Sam chuckled, walking over towards the group, "Let's not raz these two. You'll only make them push it back further."

"In Bucky and Lily's defence, they did have a few unexpected events pop up along the way." Nat chuckled, leaning her head on Steve's shoulder.

Lily shook her head, sipping her water. In all honesty, she was wondering herself when the two were going to officially tie the knot. Bucky had proposed on their two-year anniversary, and here they were four years strong with no official marriage certificate in their name. Lily had naturally begun to start going by Dr. Barnes, and no one really questioned it. Hunter even said that multiple kids at school asked if Bucky was his real father. It would only make sense for the two to make it legally official soon.

She worried sometimes, that he was regretting his decision about proposing to her. That he changed his mind and wanted to leave it so the breakup wasn't a messy legal battle. Despite the fact, it would be because of outside factors like the house and other influences. But their conversation the other night created a sense of ease in Lily, especially since they had found a venue they both loved.

"We’ve actually just started our planning," Bucky stated simply, sipping his old-fashioned and squeezing Lily's waist gently.

"Yeah so bugger off Steve." Lily teased tensley, pursing her lips. This earned a barked laugh from the former Avenger, prompting his response.

“That’s awesome, about time,” Steve chuckled, clapping his best friend on the shoulder.

The following half an hour continued on like that, people wondering things about Bucky and Lily’s wedding. But honestly, Lily could barely keep her own excitement about it to herself. But she contained it, knowing that this was a night about Natasha and Steve. After tomorrow, she’d be able to be a bit more excited about things.

She hoped, at least.

[mediaevalmusereads]

A Duke, the Lady, and a Baby. By Vanessa Riley. New York: Zebra, 2020.

Rating: 2/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Rogues and Remarkable Women #1

Summary:   When headstrong West Indian heiress Patience Jordan questioned her English husband's mysterious suicide, she lost everything: her newborn son, Lionel, her fortune—and her freedom. Falsely imprisoned, she risks her life to be near her child—until The Widow's Grace gets her hired as her own son’s nanny. But working for his unsuspecting new guardian, Busick Strathmore, Duke of Repington, has perils of its own. Especially when Patience discovers his military strictness belies an ex-rake of unswerving honor—and unexpected passion . . . A wounded military hero, Busick is determined to resolve his dead cousin’s dangerous financial dealings for Lionel’s sake. But his investigation is a minor skirmish compared to dealing with the forthright, courageous, and alluring Patience. Somehow, she's breaking his rules, and sweeping past his defenses. Soon, between formidable enemies and obstacles, they form a fragile trust—but will it be enough to save the future they long to dare together?

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: racism, blood, violence, allusions to suicide, imprisonment, and non-voluntary institutionalization

Overview: I first learned of Vanessa Riley while reading an article about women of color and historical romance, so when I finished a rather confusing (and depressing?) read, I decided to see which of Riley’s books my library had on offer. This novel originally caught my eye because of the marketing: a multi-cultural regency romance? Seems like just the thing I’m looking for! Unfortunately, the writing style just didn’t gel with me, so for that reason, I can’t give this book more than 2 stars.

Writing: While I can respect the easy-to-digest prose style of most romances, Riley’s style didn’t work for me for a number of reasons. First, I found the use of the first person jarring. If you know me, then you’ll know that first person narration feels unnatural to me (unless the book is self-conscious about the way perspective is being used). But I also found the first person strange because Riley’s book alternates between Patience’s POV (which is in first person) and Busick’s POV (which is in third person). While the shift in POV was a nice delineation between the two characters’ perspectives, I ultimately had some trouble losing myself in the story because there was such a marked shift. I found myself preferring Busick’s chapters over Patience’s because I found it easier to let the prose just kind of wash over me.

Riley’s prose style is also a bit too reliant on dialogue and rhetorical questions for my taste. A large portion of this book involves characters talking to one another, which would be fine except I felt like Riley used dialogue in order to tell readers things rather than show them. The dialogue would repeat certain ideas or events over and over again, and the flow of the conversations didn’t feel natural, as topics would change abruptly or characters would speak in ways that didn’t feel genuine. I did like moments when Patience and Busick would have a little tit-for-tat; Riley is strongest when writing Patience's witty comebacks to Busick’s insistence on military order.

But because there was so much dialogue, there wasn’t much room for anything else, and I felt like Riley wasn’t quite sure of how to create suspense without dialogue. As a result, there are a lot of rhetorical questions; “Was she a spy?” “Did he have some secret in his past?” and the like. I feel like these types of questions popped up every other page, and part of the reason they were relied on so much may have been because Riley had a tendency to tell rather than show. Riley would point blank tell us what her characters were thinking or feeling, as well as what actions they were taking, and as a result, the narrative (and characters) felt flat.

Structurally, I also think the book could have used some tweaking. Early on, I felt like Riley was using a lot of expositional dialogue to dump a lot of info on the reader, and Patience’s internal monologue would make allusions to characters or events in ways that felt awkward and/or not relevant in the moment. I even had some trouble determining what exactly was going on at first because the book starts out with an exciting scene, and the circumstances that created that scene were unclear (unless you read the book summary first). To help with this, it would have been beneficial to get some kind of prologue, and if Riley didn’t want a prologue that depicts Patience being separated from her son or being victimized by the antagonist, then maybe we can see her escaping Bedlam or joining the Widow’s Grace - anything to give the book the space to establish a setting.

Plot: This book primarily follows our heroine, Patience Jordan, as she tries to regain custody of her son, Lionel. Following her husband, Colin’s, suicide, his uncle Markham seized control of their estate at Hamlin and claimed guardianship over Lionel. The reason? To gain access to Patience’s father’s money. To cover up the truth, Markham had Patience committed to Bedlam, so now, Patience must find evidence that Markham fabricated this insidious plot - evidence that she thinks is contained in some legal documents hidden within the family home.

However, Lionel’s legal guardian is not Markham, but Busick Strathmore, Colin’s cousin. Wanting to do right by his family, Busick seizes control of Hamlin and establishes himself as Lionel’s adoptive father. Not sure if Busick can be trusted, Patience gets herself hired as a wet nurse for Lionel, and uses her knowledge of the house to look for the legal documents that will prove Markham’s guilt, thus preventing her from being separated from Lionel again.

On paper, this plot looked really intriguing, but in practice, not a whole lot happened. Most of our time is spent reading the dialogue between Patience and various other characters, and we don’t actually get to see much of her snooping around, risking getting caught, and so on. Events didn’t seem to build on one another, so I mostly felt like I was getting character snapshots rather than an actual narrative.

There’s also something of a side plot where a mysterious “ghost” causes some minor trouble around the house. Personally, I think this plot could have been more centralized; if Riley had gone full Gothic romance (I’m thinking Jane Eyre because Jane gets hired to care for a child and Thornfield is spooky), I think this book would have been a delight. But the existing tone is a little too light, so it didn’t quite achieve the desired effect.

I also think that the whole Widow’s Grace stuff removed a lot of agency from Patience. While I liked that Patience had friends - especially friends in high places that could wield social influence to help her - having an organized, underground band of women was a little much for me. I would have preferred to see Patience concoct plans and discover information on her own, rather than having the Widow’s Grace act as the architect.

Characters: Patience, our heroine, is fairly likeable in that she’s brave, determined, and fiercely loyal to the people she cares about. I really enjoyed following her as she tried to search for her legal papers, outsmart Busick, and bring her companions along for the ride. I also liked that she had a lot of complex emotions surrounding her husband’s death; while the marriage wasn’t happy (and she has a lot of feelings about being treated as an Other), she also feels guilty about potentially contributing to her husband’s depression and wonders what she is going to tell her son about his father. I liked seeing her try to work through all these emotions, all while remaining focused on her goals.

Busick, our hero, is also fairly complex, but my appreciation for his complexity is dampened by some of the cheesiness that surrounds his military outlook on life. Busick is a former soldier who is working through his feelings about being injured in battle. Two years before the story begins, Busick loses his leg and must either use a prosthetic or a wheelchair, and he has a lot of issues with the perceptions surrounding his disability. As a result, he tries to hide the fact that he’s missing a leg; he never uses his wheelchair (except when alone) and plays it off like his leg just isn’t healing right. This kind of internalized ableism could have been really interesting to read about, especially since there was an opportunity for Busick to learn more about his value as something other than a soldier. However, Busick’s desperate desire to be useful to the war effort came off as fairly ridiculous; not only does he bring soldiers into his home and conduct drills in his yard (wouldn’t that be done at a camp or base?) but he tries to put Lionel on a strict military-style schedule and requires people to witness him as he rides a horse around the lawn (to prove his strength?). His past as a notorious rake isn’t really utilized effectively either; while we get allusions to his amorous activities, I didn’t really see how it was relevant. Did the military give him more discipline and now he’s reformed? Does he find himself slipping back into his old ways now that he can no longer fight on the battlefield? How does this situation with Patience and Lionel challenge all that? I think I would have liked to see Busick grow a little more, maybe by having him use his guardianship of Hamlin and Lionel as a way to “prove” that he’s changed from rake to responsible, disciplined adult (and his disability threatens that by making him seem incapable, so he has to deal with that as well). And while there were some hints at those kinds of things, they really weren’t central to his story.

Side characters were fairly enjoyable in that they had sweet relationships with the heroine or hero. I particularly enjoyed the relationship Patience had with Jemina - her fellow inmate at Bedlam who suffers from amnesia. I appreciated that Riley didn’t make Jemina seem “crazy,” but instead, she was a capable woman who demonstrates genuine affection and concern for her friend. I also liked that Busick had a similar support in Gantry, a viscount who is helping Busick with Hamlin (and with self-acceptance?) while also struggling with his own family issues. Lady Shrewsbury, the head of the Widow’s Grace, was interesting for the role she played in using her social power to get Patience into Hamlin, but otherwise, I didn’t really like the idea of the Widow’s Grace (because it removes some agency that could have been given to Patience instead).

Markham, our antagonist, is barely present, so I don’t really have many thoughts on him. While his actions were sneaky and abhorrent, and I appreciated that Riley didn’t use him to showcase a bunch of on-page misery, I also thought he was underutilized.

Romance: I hate to say it, but I think Patience and Busick lacked chemistry. I couldn’t quite see how each character enriched each other’s emotional lives; Patience seemed to like Busick because he was fatherly towards Lionel and because he was kind, while Busick seemed to like Patience because she was pretty and defiant. I wish Riley had done a little more to make them feel made for one another; maybe Patience challenges Busick’s rigid outlook on life and shows him that he has value beyond just being a soldier. Maybe Busick shows Patience that she matters as a person - something that was lacking in her marriage to Colin - or that she doesn’t have to take on all her burdens herself. There were hints of some of these things, but because of the writing style, I thought we were told rather than shown that the two characters had feelings for one another.

I also think the romance lacked heat and longing. While not every romance has to be sexy and steamy, I do think that there should be some element of longing that plays out in how the characters interact physically. One place where Riley actually does this pretty well is when Patience discusses how well she works with Busick while taking care of Lionel at night - the two hand him over to one another and move around the room as if doing a “dance,” and they brush against one another and smell each other’s scent. But other than that, it felt like I was smacked in the face with statements like “I noticed his mouth and wondered what it would be like to kiss it” or “Didn’t you notice? He follows you with his eyes!” I personally like these physical moments to be a little more subtle and for them to build on one another without the author having to spell out what they mean for me.

TL;DR: A Duke, the Lady, and a Baby has an intriguing premise and good characters, but ultimately lacks a strong plot, gripping prose style, or steamy romantic chemistry. Most of what holds this book back is the overuse of dialogue and rhetorical questions to create suspense, as well as the tendency to tell not show. While I would love to rate this book higher, the prose just isn’t there.

[what-the--curtains]

Alliance

Chapter 7 – The Redemption

(Mando x reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: Caged and alone you struggle to stay alive as the empire questions you about the child. With nothing left to lose you begin planning your final escape.

Tw: Swearing, torture, blood.

Notes: whoop its been a minute, but class started back up so chapters will take a bit longer to get out! Hope y’all enjoy it❤️

Words: 3.6k

Tagged: @crazycookiecrumbles

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're woken by yet another electrical shock coursing through your veins. They’d upped your security after your fourth escape attempt which meant you were only removed from your cell for intermittent questioning and various invasive tests. The sporadic visits left you with a distorted sense of time leaving you completely unaware at just how long you had been on the ship, a day? A week? A few hours? Your blood being drained wasn't helping the situation. You knew they would have figured out by now that its life elongating properties were nothing more than rumour, so what the hell did they need so much for? An all-inclusive spa?

After the shock finishes coursing through you, the two troopers cuff your limp limbs and walk you over to yet another cold, white, over-fluorescent room that smelled disconcertingly like bleach. They toss you roughly into a chair and restrain your wrists, abdomen and legs with thick metal straps that were sure to leave bruises. The troopers exit the room remaining at the door. Your multiple escape attempts paired with your ability to use the force had made them wary, watching your every move like a hawk. The door closes behind the troopers leaving you alone with only the faint murmur being emitted by the various machines casing the walls. You waited wondering who would be entering through the door. Another doctor or nurse with needles and vials which would be carted away for an unknown, but likely sinister purpose, or maybe another man in a grey uniform coming to beat you into submission. You’re not sure which you’d prefer. Whoever was coming for you today was taking their sweet time really keeping you in anticipation. Just as you’re dozing off the mechanical doors slide open. The imperial guard wastes no time in shocking you awake.

“Where is the child?” he says, lowering the cattleprod and removing his gloves.

“How the hell would I know that?” you ask your body clenched. Three men in lab coats enter the room drawing blood from you and exiting as quickly as they came.

“I will keep asking until your answer changes.” He says, this guard was particularly sadistic opting to burn you along your thigh when you once again refuse to answer.

“Well then start asking different questions.” you respond, eyes were brimming with tears that you had been holding back for too long.

“Where are they?” he demands, pressing the searing rod onto the bare flesh of your arm, you remain silent as a single tear rolls down your face.

“Even if I knew I’d never tell you” you say, as he slaps you across the face, the sound echoing throughout the room.

“You will if you value your life.” He snarls, grabbing you by the hollows of your cheeks.

“Well you’ve overestimated its value to me. Besides, my life is nothing compared to his.” You say, spitting blood back in his face

“Take her back. If she doesn’t speak soon, maybe she’ll finally get her wish.” He says, pulling out a white handkerchief. You watched as the white fabric slowly stains red as it drags across his face.

“Promise?” you ask smiling sweetly exposing your blood soaked teeth. It’s the last thing you remember before blacking out.

You wake up to a familiar scene, one you had bore witness to most nights. Your feet hit against the cold white marble tracing the same path you had walked a hundred times prior. Allowing yourself to flow through the motions, bringing your hands up to protect your face for the elements, fumbling around until you see the figure. Your hand reaches out your fist closing around nothing but the crisp air. This time, you don’t wake up. You swivel around looking back and scanning your dreamscape frantically, as the wind howls louder. A hand clasps around your mouth, you try to scream, but you can’t, you try to breath, but you can’t.

You jolt upright in the poor excuse for a bed gasping for air and pawing at your throat. You relax into a steady rhythm as your lungs refill with air, racking your hands through your hair. They’re just nightmares you repeat over and over to nobody but the four walls confining you.

They weren’t just anything and you knew that, especially not this one. This, this felt like a warning. It felt like something was calling to you, something evil. Something that was trying desperately to claw its way out. You shake your head, shifting to happier thoughts. You were still alive and that meant that the child was still safe, and Anya, and Din.

You figured you’d never see them again. You weren’t upset, or at least you wouldn’t be soon, one way or another. Hey at least you’d gotten an apology from the Mandalorian before the end, or you would have if you had let him finish his sentence. You knew it had to be this way. “This is the way” you say chuckling. Even a thousand light years away he was somehow still with you. Wherever they were they weren’t coming back, they couldn’t. You were on your own, and you had to plan your next escape to the T if it was going to work.

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

“I need your help, I can pay.” Din says to the ex-soldier.

“Mando, nice to see you again, and you found the precious bounty,” she says, lifting up the small green child who is happily held by her. “What do you need me for. “

“We need to get someone. Extraction mission. They were taken protecting this womp rat.” He says affectionately rubbing the kids head.

“Who took them?”

“The empire.” He deadpans.

“No way, not enough credits in the world.” She laughs, handing the child back to the Mandalorian and making her way over to her desk.

“Please.” he begs, hoping his desperation wasn’t as evident as it sounded under the helmet.

“Do they expect you to go back?”

“I don’t even know if they're alive.”

“Must be someone pretty special for you to risk going back there with him” she says stroking the kids ear.

“ I’m not taking the kid, I’m leaving him with a friend.”

“ Lots of friends these days hey Mando? Fine, I'll help, but I get my pick of the weapons after.”

“Deal. Not the spear though. Cara. Are you listening to me” he asks as she enters into the ship, not listening.

Corvus, Outer Rim

“So who are we looking for here?” Cara asks.

“Ashoka Tano, she's a Jedi, she can watch Grogu while we get the person out” he says, unsure why he kept referring to you as a person and not by name.

“Jedi, hey? They seem drawn to you maybe you're secretly one” she laughs

“You coming?” he asks

“Nope, I'll let you escort junior here to his babysitter, assuming you can handle it alone?”

Din exits the ship, child in arm, making his way through the trees that were beginning to bloom, now that the threat of war no longer loomed over them.

“Mando, welcome back!” The governor exclaims grasping the Mandalorians arm in his

“Is Ashoka here?”

“Yes, I’ll take you to her.”

“Hello again” she says, removing her eyes from the documents spread across her desk

“I need a favour.” He states bluntly “There are only a few people I trust to care for him, one is coming with me the other is being held captive”

“So that leaves me, I’m flattered and happy to take him for a short while” she takes the child gently rocking him back and forth.

“Thank you. Be good.” he says, pointing a stern finger at Grogu “You should watch your valuables and any food you're saving” Din finishes before striding back down the hallway.

“The person who you seek” Ashoka's voice rings out, stopping him dead in his tracks. “she is powerful”

“I know, she’s like you” He turns in time to see a notable look of seriousness spread across her face.

“In more ways than one, I offer you a word of warning. She is an asset no doubt, but she has suffered, and those who have known pain are often targeted by sinister forces especially when they are powerful. They have targeted her already, they will find her and try and claim her as their own.”

“How do I stop them”

“You can’t.”

“What can you tell me about her?”

“I cannot tell you anything, you can hope in time she will reveal herself to you, but do not hold your breath, it may never happen and that may be for the best. I do not tell you this to frighten you but to make you aware of the situation you are now deeply entrenched in.” The Mandalorian nods before returning the way he came.

Deep Space, unknown coordinates

“So who exactly are we getting? Whose so special they deserve a saving from you?” Cara asks, slouching down in the passenger seat.

“She saved me twice, I can’t leave her with the empire.” Realises his mistake the second he says it.

“Oh so it’s a she,” Cara says, drawing out the last word. “ You know for a guy with no face you certainly get around”

“It’s not like that” he answers, only causing her to press for more information akin to a dog with a bone.

“Oh I’m sure, so who is it this time?”

“You remember that bounty we got months back?” he says fiddling with various gadgets. “Vryssa” he adds hoping he doesn’t have to expand.

“Oh” Cara says slightly taken aback “the hot one with the bow and arrow who spat in your face?”

“That’s the one,” he says smiling under the helmet.

She lets out a low whistle “Good for you, I mean I don’t know what you look like under there but she’s gotta be out of your league.”

“It’s not like that,” he says.

“What? Am I embarrassing you?” she laughs. “Fine, I'll stop. I’m happy for you Mando, better get an invite to the wedding. Can you even get married?” Seeing she may have pushed her limits she continued “Alright, aright just joking so what’s the plan.”Leading Cara down the ladder into the mainspace of the ship a door opens revealing a single storm trooper uniform.

“I land the ship here. There's a hatch that leads into a storage closet where you, in the uniform, will drop down. The prisons are located on the third floor,and my guess she’ll be kept in maximum security, so by the end of the hall, here, on the far left. I’ll get the doors open, you get her out.”

“You don’t want to be the one to swoop in and save her?” Cara replies “Just asking,” she finishes raising her hands up in the air.

Your eyes open upon hearing the ringing of blaster shots reverberating throughout the hollow walkways. More infighting you suppose, letting out a deep sigh and closing your eyes hoping to get a moment's peace before your next, and quite possibly last, interrogation. Not a moment after you hear the familiar metallic screech as your cell doors open. You sit up shifting back into the wall and bringing your knees to your chest. Only one trooper? This was your chance, you could take a single trooper in your sleep, your eyes glance back to the trooper, as you formulate your next move. Move. Why hadn’t it moved? Where was the shocker? Why was the armour slightly malfitted. It couldn’t be. Could it?

“Aren’t you a little tall for a stormtrooper?” You ask, as its hands go up to the helmets side.

“Cara Dune,” you exhale, not exactly who you were expecting, but who you were to complain “nice to not be on the receiving end of your force” you say as she frees your hands and pulls you up.

“Can you walk?” you nod “Heard you’re a mean shot” she says handing you a blaster and redonning the trooper helmet. You’re following her out the door when you feel your knees go.

“Shit” Cara mutters, hooking your armpits and stopping you from eating it.

“I’m fine just give me a sec.” you say slapping your thighs to try and get the blood rolling.

“Ya you sure seem fine am I gonna have to carry you out?”

“If I said maybe would that be convincing enough for you.” she shoots you a look “I'm only partially joking, alright feeling reinstated lets go before they give out again.” You follow behind her shooting down the few troopers in your path.

You're almost to the ship when a mechanical voice stops you both.

“State your business with prisoner 26758” the droid asks.

“Prisoners 26758 is being moved for questioning” Cara says without hesitation. It looks at her then to you before turning around and continuing on its way. She exhales cutting the tension in the surrounding air. You proceed hastily through the ship ducking behind spare parts as employees walk by, until you reach a storage closet.

“Really?” you ask

“Really.” she parrots back to you opening the door as you squeeze into the closet's confined space. Once the doors closed she interlocks her fingers, boosting you up through a hatch where an unmistakable arm reaches down. You latch onto it with both hands and it pulls you up with familiar ease. With your feet back on solid ground you finally look up into the dark glass of the visor obscuring your saviours face.

“You came back?” you say unblinking, not wanting to break your gaze afraid this was nothing more than a fever dream.

“I said I would,” he responds, still holding your hand in his.

“There’s time for this later, let’s get a move on.” Cara, says pushing between you and the Mandalorian, causing a flushed feeling to rush over your body as you quickly drop his hand. You hobble over to the cockpits entrance where Cara had recently disappeared up into. You wince as your arms reach for the ladder, but before you can heave yourself up you feel two large hands around your waist. Din lifts you gently up to Cara who hooks her arms under yours pulling you up so your legs are dangling on the precipice.

“Where’s the kid?” you ask, as Din ascends.

“You think I’d bring him here” he says, gently helping you settle into the passenger seat. “They're safe, don't worry. Get some rest” he says “we’ll be there soon”

Corvus, Outer Rim

Cara helps you out onto the soft grass covering the planet's floor watching as a woman appears from the walls guarding a small city. She moves towards reaching her hand up causing you to flinch. She pauses for a moment before removing your hood.

“You look just like her.” She says smiling.

“Like who?” you ask.

“Your mother. I knew her back, before the temple when she... I'm sorry I couldn’t do more.” Ahsoka says allowing a silence to hang in the air as she hands Grogu back to the Mandalorian.

“It wasn’t your fault, from what my grandmother said there was no stopping him once the Sith took hold.”

“I'm sorry about your grandmother, I felt her leave not too long ago”

“Thank you” you say, taking her hands in yours.

“I have something for you” she gestures for you to follow her back into the city’s walls.

Din takes a step forward but Cara places a hand on his arm shaking her head.

“I don't think we're on the invite list for this one, c’mon i'll let you beat me in a arm wrestling match.”

“If we may speak frankly...” Ashoka starts once in her office “The item in this box is no toy, it must not fall into the wrong hands. You have been having nightmares?” She asks, turning to face you, as you nod eyes darting away from her gaze “You must be careful who you let into your head from now on. Once they’re in it's hard to get them out. They will be looking for you.”

“Who?” you ask, taking a cautious step towards her.

“They will not stop, they are dangerous, ruthless and extremely persuasive, they can turn even the best. The path you walk is unclear, foggy, there will come a time that a choice must be made, and if you do not make it yourself they will make it for you.” She runs a hand over a small wooden box lightly wiping away the gathering dust. “This belonged to your mother, I found it when I returned to the temple, she would have wanted you to have it.” Its weight takes you by surprise. Sliding the slotted lid open an unmistakable cylinder sits atop a deep blue fabric.

“A lightsaber” you whisper brows knitted in disbelief. “ I’m not, I don’t know how” you say, extending the box back out to her hoping she’d take it back.

“Your training over the years means you know how to use it.” She says placing the box down, taking out the sabers hilt and offering it back to you. You press down on the button and as you release it a faint purple light shoots out, emitting a dull buzz. Ashoka was right, you did know how to use it, all those years maneuvering around the woods with a wooden staff had paid off in the end.

“She was one of the best teachers, your grandmother. You’re a testament to that. You have a strong connection to the force and an even deeper understanding and respect for it.” You close the saber looking back over to the jedi master whose smile has faded.

“There are worse things in this galaxy than crime lords and ex troopers, something is brewing deep below, I know you’ve felt it too. This saber will protect you when you need it most. Continue your training, but keep an eye on your emotions, I do not know the relationship you share with those who came to your aid but do not let the roots grow too deep. It can have devastating consequences. To be a Jedi is to be alone” she squeezes your arm gently as your eyes finally meet hers, finding a semblance of similarity and understanding in them. Her words weigh heavy on you as you return back to the ship's entrance way where Din and Cara were wrestling. Anya spots you first and rushes over to you, you bend over scratching her ears. Grogu, noticing Anya leave, peels himself away from the fight and makes his way over to you whining loudly.

“Is no one paying you any attention?” you coo down to him and he responds with a gurgle “the nerve.” you say shaking your head causing him to giggle, as you pick him up.

“Your mother was probably teaching young Grogu here at some point.” Ashoka says loud enough to stop the all out war happening behind you.

“I don’t remember him, or her really.” You say as Grogu grabs at a loose strand of hair.

“Well he remembers you, or he thinks that you're your mother.” She reopens the wood box and you place the saber back inside, handing it to you once it's closed.

“Is that a lightsaber?” Cara asks, eyes wide, as she approaches, brushing dirt off herself. “You can pay me with that,” she says, turning back to look up at the Mandalorian who's fixated on you.

“Where will you go, now the empire is looking for you all?” Ashoka asks, noting the apparent fondness shared amongst the small motley crew.

“Hoth for now, hasn’t seen humans in a while good place to hide out with all the abandoned bases. Hopefully the camouflage technology is still in place.” Din says.

“And too cold for any reasonable people to venture to,” Cara says.

“Not exactly the retirement I had in mind.” you mutter, but at least it was better than the funeral you were planning earlier that day.

“Wasn’t sure we’d ever find you.” Cara says as the ship reaches deep space, her chair swiveling around to face you

“Glad you did.” You say looking up blinking slowly, as a yawn escapes your lips.

“Sure made our jobs harder, had to try to escape didn’t you.” She pats you lightly on the shoulder as she drops down to the lower level.

“Thought I was on my own you” you call down to her laughing.

“Not anymore” Dins' voice cuts in, causing you to scrunch up your mouth in an attempt to hide the smile that was forming.

“Thank you, for coming back, a few more days and I think there’d be no blood left in my body the way they were siphoning it.”

“Kid wouldn’t stop crying” he offers

“Well I'll be sure to thank him. Guess we're all squared up then, end of the line now the kid’s back?” you say.

“Doesn't have to be, besides you should wait until you’re healed up and we may need that saber if anyone shows up for the kid before we can get him to a Jedi.” He says realizing he’d thrown every excuse in the book for you to stay with them.

“Guess you’re right” you say, happy that the Mandalorian wanted you around, even if it was just for childcare

“Usually am” he responds, causing you to roll your eyes and shake your head, resting it back against the chair and allowing your eyes to close. As you doze off you hope when you wake you wouldn’t find yourself back in a cell.

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Treat Your S(h)elf: The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker

We’re going to survive - our songs, our stories. They’ll never be able to forget us. Decades after the last man who fought at Troy is dead, their sons will remember the songs their Trojan mothers sang to them. We’ll be in their dreams - and in their worst nightmares too.

- Pat Barker, The Silence of the Girls

“It’s always hard on women, when a city falls.” Briseis, former princess of the Trojan city of Lyrnessus, has been Achilles’s slave for several months when someone she knew in her old life says these words. From the ancient world to our modern world there is this ugly and unspoken line of rape as a weapon of war. History is replete with examples. In the 20th-century where Nazis raped Jewish women despite soldiers' concerns with "race defilement" and raped countless women in their path as they invaded the Soviet Union and then in Berlin 1945 Russians in turn went on a brutal raping spree to punish the Germans. In the bloody Balkan wars in the 1990s, Serbian forces tortured and summarily executed scores of Muslims and Croats. In the Iraq war and the many conflicts in Africa in the 21st Century, rape is systemically used to subdue a defeated enemy. History shows the ugly truth that women’s bodies have always been viewed as the spoils of conflicts waged primarily by men.

The issue of rape in war is something that has always sat uncomfortably with me ever since I did my stint as an army combat helicopter pilot in Afghanistan. From my high vantage point I felt a detachment from the electronic battlefield - for everything was viscerally seen from my helmeted eye patch visor lens and not the naked eye. I couldn’t look people in the eye as as soldier on for patrol would have. The fear and sweat is the same but the risk is different. Soldiers on patrol or on a mission risk the constant threat of ambush, sustained attack under mortar or fire fights as well as the ever present danger of being blown up by an IED by accident. Pilots risk being coming under attack too by being ambushed by RPG rocket fire or coming under fire from below. Worse, was to think if you got hit and you had to bail and you were all alone, survival and evasion from capture becomes fearfully paramount. Of course they train you for this until it hopefully becomes muscle memory in how to survive and take evasive action from being captured and resisting as long as you could under interrogation. But as a female pilot the unspoken fear that dare not speak its name was ever present: the fear of rape.

I’m not sure my brother officers - no matter how sincere and well intentioned they were because we were all fiercely protective of one another - really understood what the word ‘rape’ means for a woman. Indeed a male friend and ex-army colleague said to me in jest don’t ever kid a man about kicking him in the balls because it’s one thing every man can imagine feeling but would find it hard to explain the excruciating pain when a man does get his balls bashed in. I don’t think the two ‘experiences’ are the same obviously but I understand how hard it is to articulate what it might feel like. I never really allowed myself to be consumed by the fear of what might happen if I ever got shot down and was captured but instead I made sure to focus on my job. It never really became pressing issue for me throughout my time in on the battlefield. I was lucky I got out in one piece despite a few close scrapes along the way.

I did hear awful and terrible stories from my oldest brother who served in the Iraq War of the raping of Kurdish women by Iraqi forces. It sickened him and left him hollow the the things he witnessed first hand. Through the charitable work of ex-veterans I have come across refugee woman who shared their harrowing stories of how they were violently and systematically raped as war booty and as primal assertion of victor dominance and control.

I was thinking about all these things as I read Pat Barker’s novel about one of the most famous wars of all, telling the story of the siege of Troy from the point of view of the local Trojan women taken by the Greek forces. It’s The Iliad as seen through the eyes of 19-year-old Briseis, the Queen of Lyrnessus who’s taken as Achilles’s “bed-girl”, his “prize of honour” for mass slaughter.

Barker’s not the first to turn to the classics for inspiration. It’s popular practice these days. Kamila Shamsie’s Home Fire and Michael Hughes’ Country, for example, transpose classical stories onto contemporary settings.  The Silence of the Girls is yet another much welcomed book to offer a fresh perspective on Homeric women, following Madeleine Miller’s brilliant Circe. But while Miller’s reinvention of literature’s first witch brilliantly evoked a world of ancient magic in retelling The Odyssey from the witch’s point of view, not that of the warrior she waylays on his journey home, Barker’s story has its feet very firmly on the ground. Yes, the gods are still there – you can’t tell the story of the Trojan wars without them, after all. The gods remain mostly off stage but they are present in the background, magically restoring the mutilated dead body of Hector. The sea goddess Thetis, Achilles’ mother, is a briny, frightening presence, as are the dark shore and the waves by which the whole horrible story takes place. Apollo still sends a plague, Achilles is the son of a sea goddess who brings him divinely forged armour and Hector’s body is magically restored to freshness after being pulled behind Achilles’s chariot.

But what really stands out are not heavenly allusions but the dirt and filth and disease and sheer brutal physicality of the Greek army marauding everything that stands in their way to Troy - there’s no magic here to ease the pain and trauma of rape or murder or even to help exact revenge. And while Achilles’ divine mother makes an appearance, and Apollo is beckoned by Briseis to bring about a plague, the gods remain on the peripheries of this story. If Circe, which chronicles the life of its titular character, is very much about the gods and their egos, then The Silence of the Girls, however, is very much about humans, their egos and their wars - both personal and political.

In all this Barker gives female characters such as Circe and Briseis the voice they’ve traditionally been denied, readers glean a different version of events behind the Trojan War epic myth. “Great Achilles. Brilliant Achilles, shining Achilles, godlike Achilles…How the epithets pile up,” Briseis begins. “We never called him any of those things; we called him ‘the butcher’.”

In The Iliad, a poem about the terrible destruction caused by male aggression, the bodies and pretty faces of women are the objects through which men struggle with each other for status. The women are not entirely silent, and goddesses always have plenty to say, but mortal women speak primarily to lament. They grieve for their dead sons, dead fathers, dead husbands and dead protectors; for the city of Troy, soon to fall, and for their own freedom, taken by the victors of war. Andromache pleads with her Trojan husband Hector not to leave her and their infant son to go back to fight Achilles. She has already endured the sack of her home city by Achilles, and seen the slaughter of her father and seven brothers, and the enslavement of her mother. If Hector dies, their child will be hurled from the city walls, Troy will fall and Andromache will be made the concubine of the son of her husband’s killer. Hector knows this, but he insists that his own need to avoid social humiliation as a battle-shirker trumps it all: “I would be ashamed before the Trojan men and women,” he says. He hopes only to be dead before he has to hear her screams.

Barker’s absorbing prose puts the experience of women like Andromache at the heart of the story: the women who survive in slavery when men destroy their cities and kill their fathers, brothers and children. The central character is Briseis, the woman awarded to Achilles, the greatest Greek fighter, after his army sacks one of the towns neighbouring Troy. Agamemnon, the most powerful, although not the bravest, of the Greek warriors – a character whose downright nastiness comes across beautifully in Barker’s telling – has lost his own most recent female acquisition and seizes Briseis from Achilles. Achilles’ vengeful rage against Agamemnon and his own comrades, and the subsequent vast death toll of the Greeks and Trojans, is the central theme of The Iliad.

Homer’s poem ends by foreshadowing the fall of Troy in the death of its greatest fighter, Hector. Barker’s novel begins with the fall of another town: Lyrnessus, Briseis’ home, destroyed by Achilles and his men. We then see that the fall of a city is the end of a story only for the male warriors: some leave triumphant and others lie there dead. For the women, it is the start of new horrors.

Barker’s subject has long been gender relations during conflict, along with the machinations of trauma and memory, so she’s in her element here. Her blood-drenched battle scenes are up there with the best of them, and she shows a keen understanding of the “never-ending cycle of hatred and revenge” fuelling the violence. Her focus, however, is that which takes place off the battlefield, inflicted on the women in the “rape camps.”

Barker keeps the main bones of the Homeric poem in place, supplementing Homer at the end of the story with Euripides. His heartbreaking play The Trojan Women is, like Barker’s novel, a version of the story that shifts our attention from the angry, destructive, quick-footed, short-lived boys to the raped, enslaved, widowed women, who watch their city burn and, if they are lucky, get a moment to bury their slaughtered children and grandchildren before they are taken far away.

One of Barker’s most tear-jerking sequences is lifted straight from Euripides: the teenage daughter of Priam and Hecuba is gagged and killed as a “sacrifice” on the dead Achilles’ tomb, and then Hecuba is presented with the tiny corpse of her dead grandson, a toddler with his skull cracked open. The girl’s gagged mouth and the child’s gaping brains conjure a gruesome twinned image for the silenced voices that should tell of the horror and pity suffered by the victims of war.

For most of Barker’s novel, Briseis is the first-person narrator, but in the final part, the narrative is intercut with third-person chapters told from the point of view of Achilles. We never get as close to Achilles as we do to Briseis, but he is a compelling figure in his fascinating combination of brutality and civility. Like Siegfried Sassoon in Barker’s 1991 novel Regeneration, this Achilles has the soul of a poet as well as of a killer and hunter: he is a man whose physical courage and compulsion to fight sit uneasily with his clear, articulate awareness of the futility of war.

But Achilles, however fascinating he may be, is not then at the centre of this story. Still, the novel does provide a moving, thought-provoking version of what is perhaps the most famous moment of The Iliad: when the old king Priam makes his way, alone and unarmed, through the enemy camp, to plead with Achilles to give back the mutilated body of his son, Hector. Barker twice quotes Priam’s Homeric words to Achilles: “I do what no man before me has ever done, I kiss the hands of the man who killed my son.” Barker lets us feel the pathos and pity of this moment, as well as the pathos of all the many young men who die violent deaths far from home. We glimpse, too, Achilles’ alienation from his own “terrible, man-killing hands”, which have caused so many deaths.

Briseis has a powerful riposte to Priam’s words, weighing this unique encounter between men against the myriad unremembered horrors suffered by women in war. “I do what countless women before me have been forced to do. I spread my legs for the man who killed my husband and my brothers.”

Reduced to objects, they’re catalysts for conflict – Barker’s Helen inspires ribaldry not worship, “The eyes, the hair, the tits, the lips/ That launched a thousand battleships...” chant the soldiers – blamed for inciting hatred between men. Or they’re regarded as the victor’s spoils, claimed along with cattle and gold.

Briseis is both. Taken as a slave, Achilles and Agamemnon then feud over her: “It doesn’t belong to him; he hasn’t earnt it,” fumes the former. Men - Greek and Trojan alike – are afforded the privilege of vocalising their pain and loss, while women have to repress their suffering. “Silence becomes a woman,” they’re told, even when they’re free.

No longer an issue of decorum, now it’s about staying alive. “I do what no man before me has ever done, I kiss the hands of the man who killed my son,” declares Priam when he prostrates himself before Achilles begging for Hector’s body. “And I do what countless women before me have been forced to do, Briseis thinks bitterly, “I spread my legs for the man who killed my husband and my brothers.”

Barker has a very clear feminist message about the struggle for women to extricate themselves from male-dominated narratives. In the hands of a lesser writer, it could have felt preachy and woke but she masterfully avoids that. The attempt to provide Briseis with a happy ending is thin, and sometimes the female characters’ legitimate outrage seems a bit predictable, as when we hear Helen thinking: “I’m here. Me. A person, not just an object to be looked at and fought over.”

The novel has some annoying anachronisms, such as a “weekend market” (there were no weekends in antiquity), and a reference to “half a crown”, as if we were in the same period as Barker’s first world war novels. One wonders if any woman in archaic Greece, even a former queen, would have quite the self-assurance of Barker’s Briseis. But, of course, there is no way to be sure: no words from women in this period survive but Barker is surely right to paint them as thoughtful, diverse, rounded human beings, whose humanity hardly ever dawns on their captors, owners and husbands. This central historical insight feels entirely truthful.

Barker has a quasi-Homeric gift for similes: “that shining moment, when the din of battle fades and your body’s a rod connecting earth and sky”, or Achilles’ friend Patroclus dying, “thrashing like a fish in a pool that’s drying out”. There is a Homeric simplicity and drive in some of the sentences: “Blood, shit and brains – and there he is, the son of Peleus, half beast, half god, driving on to glory.” She is Homeric, too, in her attentiveness to what happens between people, and to the details of the physical world: the food, the wine, the clothes, the noise and the feel of skin, blood, bones, crackling wounds and screams. Barker, like Homer, understands grief and loss, and sees how alone people can be even when they are crying together. Loneliness in community is one of the major themes of this book, as it is of The Iliad.

Angry, thoughtful, sad, deeply humane and compulsively readable, The Silence of the Girls shows that Barker is a writer at the peak of her literary powers. You sense her only priority is to enlarge the story that we all know and she adds to it magnificently.

I have always enjoyed reading Pat Barker especially her enviable experience of writing about military life in her earlier novels and here in this book it shines through in the depiction of the Greek forces. The men are dehumanised by the wars they have created. This is primarily a book about what war does to women, but Barker examines what it does to men too. I was disturbed by the magnificently poignant final section which can’t help but make you reflect on the cultural underpinnings of male aggression, the women throughout history who have been told, by men, to forget their trauma. When Briseis is told to forget her past life, she immediately knows it is exactly what she must not, can not do: “So there was my duty laid out in front of me, as simple and clear as bowl of water: Remember.”

Briseis knows no one will want to record the reality of what went on during the war: “they won’t want the brutal reality of conquest and slavery. They won’t want to be told about the massacres of men and boys, the enslavement of women and girls. They won’t want to know we were living in a rape camp. No, they’ll go for something altogether softer. A love story, perhaps?” But even so, Briseis, for all that she must bear, understands eventually that the women will leave behind a legacy, though not in the same vocal, violent way the men will.

“We’re going to survive,” she says, “our songs, our stories. They’ll never be able to forget us. Decades after the last man who fought at Troy is dead, their sons will remember the songs their Trojan mothers sang to them. We’ll be in their dreams - and in their worst nightmares too.”

I felt disconcerted reading this and also very moved. As much as I love the Classics and firmly believe in it providing the foundational building blocks of our Western civilisation I also have to pause and remind myself that heroic behaviour, something the greatest of the Greeks are known for, isn’t anything admirable when viewed from the lens of the women they abuse. Heroism can be tainted by the dark side of one’s nature. However pure one soldier’s sacrifice for another can be, so there is the bestial side of us where the chains of civilised moral behaviour are unshackled and left to satiate our primal instinct for cruelty, conflict, and domination. Indeed what Barker does is be a much needed corrective because just as you think her perspective of the Greek heroes may be softening, she pulls back to remind you of Odysseus tossing Hector’s baby from the battlements, or Achilles’s casual butchery. “It’s the girls I remember most,” Briseis says. This then is a story about the very real cost of wars waged by men: “the brutal reality of conquest and slavery”.

In seeing a legend differently, Barker makes us rethink who gets to write history but also to remind us of our tainted human condition. There is no god in the machine to sort out most violent conflicts and situations with a thunderbolt here. There are only mortals, with all their flaws and ferocity and foolishness. And we all have to live with that but not I hope in silence.

[hermywolf]

ranking my favorite characters about random shit part 2

ranking my favorite characters (clarke griffin, dean winchester, fox mulder, rose tyler, newt, kaz brekker, samwise gamgee, charles xavier, bill denbrough, lord asriel, steve rogers, scott mccall, anna milton and barry berkman) about random shit. this is entirely self-indulgent

PART 2 : how many allies do they have/how powerful are their allies. basically how screwed they’d be if they had to rely on their allies to survive

1- DEAN WINCHESTER

yeah believe it or not im putting him before charles or steve. listen, listen; dean just. does this thing. in which he’ll get pretty much anyone on his side after like two conversations. ESPECIALLY incredibly powerful supernatural creatures. i mean he’s got sam, aka the second best hunter on earth, and jack, literally GOD, on his side; then obviously the dean winchester simp squad, castiel, a seraph and commander of garrisons who can get heaven to fight for him; benny, a vampire; crowley, a powerful crossroad demon and the king of hell; amara, literally THE DARKNESS HERSELF, god’s SISTER; and then there’s just SO many others who will fight for him for diverse reasons, rowena, eileen, claire, jody, donna, kaia, mary, anna, gabriel, DEATH HIMSELF was his bitch before billie, then ketch charlie kevin, he’s just got so many allies and so many are some of the most powerful creatures in the universe. i mean, jack, amara and gabriel alone are three of the most powerful beings who have ever existed, as well as billie and the other archangels but all of them are dead, and chuck but he’s also dead and even he would be on dean’s side since dean is his favorite and if it’s an actual life-threatening situation chuck would want the show to keep going. so yeah dean winchester’s got the biggest defense squad imaginable and honestly? good for him, he deserves it

2- CHARLES XAVIER

do i even have to say it? outside of his ability to. you know. literally control minds, he’s also a leader who inspires loyalty and trust, and he’s got all the x-men fighting for him, including jean and logan - and even if we’re being honest some of the brotherhood, i mean especially in the first class timeline, erik and raven would absolutely be on his side. he’s got some of the most powerful mutants of all time ready to fight for his life

3- STEVE ROGERS

I mean he’s the leader of the avengers, man. have you seen the avengers assemble scene? they were fighting against thanos there but don’t try to tell me all of them wouldn’t fight for him. he’s got the falcon, black widow and the winter soldier on his side as well as the SCARLET WITCH, CAPTAIN MARVEL, THOR, do i need to keep going. he’s got a huge reputation and everyone knows and trusts him. and as we can also see in all his movies he inspires loyalty and devotion easily so even with people he doesn’t know he can get himself a loyal army in one well-delivered speech à la captain america

4- KAZ BREKKER

while most of the people on this list (steve, scott, charles, dean, bill, newt, anna) are born leaders who inspire trust and loyalty, kaz is just. really good at blackmail and insanely smart and cruel. and he’s got an insanely scary reputation too. he’s got the crows on his side no matter what, so an amazing spy, the best sharpshooter in ketterdam, a grisha who survived parem, an ex-drüskelle, and a demolition expert; as well as now the entirety of the dregs and inej’s crew, probably. plus, he most likely has leverage on the entirety of ketterdam and more. if he got in real trouble he could probably dig out the years and years of blackmail he got stacked away and get himself allyships with anyone he wants. plus his allies are ruthless, diverse and all strategically selected

5- SCOTT MCCALL

he’s got his entire pack ready to jump to help him anytime. and really when you think about it his pack is so big and diverse, there’s all kinds of creatures/skills ready to help him, plus he’s a true alpha, any werewolf would jump to his aid. I mean let’s look at his pack, stiles, allison, lydia, derek, malia, isaac, kira, hayden, mason, corey, and then of course stilinski, deaton, melissa, chris and peter, i mean even theo... he’s got a huge pack who is extremely loyal to him and they’re all kinds of creatures too, he’s fine

6- ROSE TYLER

everyone loves rose SO much. like obviously the doctor will give his life for her without hesitation but we also got jack, mickey, jackie, and even a bunch of people she met for like a couple episodes like donna or sarah jane immediately loved her. so i think she’s ultimately got some pretty solid allies especially with her father’s wealth and torchwood’s support in the alternate reality

7- CLARKE GRIFFIN

im putting her pretty down because on one hand he’s got very powerful/devoted allies on her side, like bellamy, lexa, roan, nyilah, finn, wells, etc (the key of getting your allies to be entirely devoted and loyal to you is to make at least half of them fall in love with you OR to top them so good they’ll literally put their lives down for you because of how good it was and clarke got that down to an art) BUT they’re also like. all dead. like almost all the people i just listed are dead so. yeah she’s kinda on her own in the end but if we look at early seasons clarke before literally all of them got murdered she had skaikru, azgeda and trikru pretty much in her pocket, so three of the biggest/most technically advanced armies on EARTH ready to fight for her.

8- LORD ASRIEL

now he doesn’t have actual allies per say but he can manage to get pretty much anyone on his side through charisma, threats and promises, so he ends up steadily getting massive support from witches, angels and many others in the books. he can pretty easily get himself a bunch of followers at his side ready to die for his cause.

9-SAMWISE GAMGEE

now listen he does have a pretty solid bunch of allies, aka the entire fellowship, who they, themselves, have a bunch of allies, who have a bunch of allies. i mean homeboi’s got ARAGORN and LEGOLAS and GANDALF on his side all ready to jump to save the tiny hobbits anytime so he’ll be fine.

10- BILL DENBROUGH

he’s immediately got the losers on his side, which is a win because they’re stubborn and annoying enough that they defeated an alien demonic clown. plus they’re quite literally assembled by a divinity to destroy a demon, so they’re the perfect team to kick ass and they’ll risk their lives for each other. plus he’s got a fanbase! people read his books and watch his movies. meaning he’s probably got a pretty big part of stan twt ready to help?? idk man i just think he’ll be fine when it comes to allies

11- NEWT

he’s got the entire glade ready to jump to his aid pretty much at any time, i mean let’s be honest if there’s one person all the gladers would agree on defending it would be.. ok it would be chuck bc he’s a CHILD but otherwise it’d be newt. plus he’s alby’s second in command and even gally likes him and respects him more than he likes and respects most people, which isnt much but hey kudos for the effort. anywho yeah the entire glade would defend him i think

12- ANNA MILTON

she would’ve once had the entirety of heaven at her commands ready to smite anyone who comes close to her but now that she fell and rebelled they all want her dead so. i mean i wish i could say cas would help her but after he betrayed her im not so sure? and the winchesters well idk either, maybe, maybe not, depends whether or not the entire trying-to-kill-sam ordeal happened. gabriel might help her? idk where to put her because i don’t KNOW if cas, dean, gabriel or the angels would help her but if any of them did then even one of these is a pretty solid backup so. idk man

13- FOX MULDER

im only on season 4 but as far as i can see he’s got only scully. which is pretty solid backup, she can kick ass, but still. i guess it’s one of the downsides of everyone thinking you’re batshit insane and having the entire government out to get you because they all LOATHE YOUR GUTS SO MUCH

14- BARRY BERKMAN

I mean dude. he pretty much kills all his friends. like he could ask for chris’s help but umm well he killed him, if he’s in a bad situation oh great he’s got a friend at the police except NO he murdered her. what’s that? fuches? no barry’s literally trying to murder him as of now. sally wouldn’t help him at all. cousineau just found out barry murdered his gf. at MOST he can hope that noho hank will help but i mean he’s not much help tbh i love the guy but he’s kinda useless<3

[exodusmc]

Insider 01

Genre: Power au, war au, rebel au

Words: 1583

Paring: Light manipulator Baekhyun  x  Reader

Side character/s: Exo

Warning!: Talk about death and pain, nightmares, mentions of needles, panic, 

a/n: Oh oh oh, here it is, Insider! :)

Gif is not mine 

Outsider    Next 

White….everything was white and numb. You couldn't feel a thing, it was like you were floating inside light itself. Did you die? Had you finally spent all your time?...You didn't think so, not when blood would be all over your hands, their blood, the lives you took.

Your nightmare looked different now, you still felt your mother’s wind, you still cried, but her face was clearer and after the longs time in your life were soldiers dressed in black walking in. Their arms was neatly decorated with red but it wasn't humans which came, it was demons with their guns raised at you, a child crying for her mother. After that was their nothing again, just pain, pain and pain. You remember being so scared, you remember not knowing what was happening, and you don't remember anything more. It was just murder and more murder, kill, kill them all had they whispered like snakes in your ears. Everything was a lie and you died every time they said the words unnatural. You were already gone.

-

When Baekhyun opened his eyes was there at first black dots all over the white ceiling but they soon disappeared and brought back the feeling in his arms. Panic slowly rose in his bones, memories of his imprisonment and the test came to the surface. The machine to his right started to beep louder as his heart picked up its rhythm. Everything morphed back into the test cell, every wall became darker and he could only see the glass as the glowing green liquid was pushed into his body. Breathing harder, he tried to sit up, feeling all his blood rush down to his toes. Baekhyun would faint soon and he couldn't do anything, he had to get away, he would die if he stayed. A woman came in, dressed in a white coat and a blue mask over her face. She was one of them, she was going to hurt him. 

“N-n...N-no!”he crawled back, shaking as his hands went to his own throat. He couldn't breathe, why can't he breathe?

“It’s okay! Calm down!”she rushed to him, grabbing his arm when he tried to punch her. She was going to stick more needles in him, he couldn't let her do that! 

The woman glanced to the heart monitor, seeing the green line spike every second. She tired to calm him down, tired to get his hands away from his neck, but she couldn't. Baekhyun almost strangled himself. It was only when Yixing was rolled in with a wheelchair he stopped pressing. 

“Good morning Baekhyun, slept well?”the doctor’s voice was hoarse but he still wore a smile. 

Baekhyun managed to focus his eyes on the scar right above Yixing’s eyebrow, letting his hands fall down onto his blanket covered lap. Everything which happened before he passed out came back, the running, the shooting, the smell of blood, the explosion...and you. Where are you and where is he?

“I can imagine you are a little confused to where we are…”Yixing coughed, grabbing his chest before sitting up straight again. The woman was careful when she walked back to him. 

A wary gaze met her hands as they reached for his shoulders, which he realized hurt. She started to glow, a soft white and green light. It made him feel better, like every muscle in his body relaxed.

“I can imagine so too…”Baekhyun glanced at the opening, seeing a man standing there. His face was both sharp and round, hair dipping in a round circle around his forehead. Over his shirt was a dragon like charm hanging”..Right now are you in our intensive care section...My name is Junmyeon and I’m one of the leaders...Welcome to the rebels Baekhyun.”

-

Baekhyun stared at the wall, grey concrete climbing up and forming an almost identical corridor to the one at the hospital. Yixing moved his wheelchair himself, conversing with Junmyeon lowly as the three of them walked. He still didn't feel safe but he was out now, he wasn't locked in the box.

Swallowing, Baekhyun exhaled. Junmyeon had told him about how they found you, Yixing and himself, how they took you back as fast as they could. Thanks to the rebels you guys are still alive...or are you? Baekhyun wondered about you and where you were but why should he care? You tried to kill him and that’s all he knows regarding you. 

“Jun Jun bun bun!”a large man came running, his hair an electric blue while one of his eyes a vibrant red. His clothes weren't anything special but they were whole.”Who are they?”

“Good day Chanyeol..This is Yixing and Baekhyun…”there was a smile on Junmyeon’s face,  something which made his cheeks look soft. “They are out latest recruits..”

“Oh...Well we are happy to have you on our team!”Chanyeol had a curious gleam in his eyes, clearly showing how he wanted to ask more questions but opted for keeping quiet. 

Baekhyun remembered how he once thought he wanted to be a part of the rebels, to fight for what was their rights, but now..so much had happened and he felt useless, scared. It seemed like he could never get away the anxiety the hospital left. Yixing glanced at him, trailing his eyes up to the paler face of Baekhyun. He had a few scratches left but seemed to be in good physical shape...but mentally…

Suddenly did something start buzzing in Junmyeon’s pocket, a device with a few buttons. With a simple press on it did a voice come through. Baekhyun remember seeing something similar once...It was in the hand of  a soldier, they used walkie talkies to communicate over large areas.  

“Yes?”on the other side was there a scream, freezing Baekhyun. It was female, pleading for help, but he could only see a woman screaming as she was forced on the ground, dying.”What’s happening?! Hello, answer!”

Chanyeol was already running, his hair sticking out against the grey. Yixing pushed his wheelchair forward, moving as fast as he could. Panic rose in his chest because he heard something which Baekhyun didn't...She is awake!

“Come on Baekhyun!” Junmyeon’s voice brought him back, made him realize he weren't in the hospital canteen, he didn't see her die.”Move!”

“Stand back!”rounding the last corner, Yixing managed to catch up with Chanyeol, but he had a raised gun, his eyes held no mischief.”I said stand back!”

The hospital room was chaos, beeding laying over the floor and machines was screaming. Someone was crying, their sobbs sounding choked from the corner, but it was maybe justified when the girl had a scalpel pressed against her jugular. 

Chanyeol raised the gun higher, taking a threatening stand so he could push forward. On the inside was he fuming..because why did they take in someone who was out to kill them? Why risk so many for an ex-soldier who clearly stood on the other side.

“Y/n..It’s okay...put the knife down, please?” your cold eyes landed on Yixing, watching as he rolled in to lay a hand on Chanyeol’s, calming the taller. “We are safe here..”

You glared at him, wondering if he realized that he may be safe but you weren't because you weren't like them, suddenly an outsider on the enemy's ground. The nurse who had tried to touch you cried a little louder, annoying you to no end. She had been pleading none stop, her voice feeling like a scratch on the blackboard. You let go of her, pushing her so she fell to her knees before crawling away. The stare of you had with the giant never simmered down, no both of you still threw daggers at the other. 

“Drop the knife.”he growled lowly, puffing his chest to intimidate, but he didn't know what you had done before, who you had fought and won over. 

“Calm down both of you!”Junmyeon marched into the room, Baekhyun right on his tail. He was angry, pissed, but knew better than to scream.”We are not here to fight…”

“She could have hurt Mina!”Chanyeol turned to his leader, upset at him for not understanding. 

Your eyes moved between everyone, glaring, none trusting. Standing there, you suddenly realized that you no longer had an ally, because everyone had become your enemy when you helped Yixing and Baekhyun. 

“I know Chanyeol, so back down and leave before You hurt anyone…”the named man looked baffled for a second before he left in a storm of heating air.”..I’m sorry for him..but he doesn't really mean it, it’s just his life hasn't been the easiest.”

“We understand that, right Y/n?”Yixing watched you with eyes which said you should agree but you didn't want to...feeling so defeated when you nodded.

“Good...well it’s nice to meet you, my name is Junmyeon, welcome to the rebels..”it felt surreal when he spoke. You had spent your life killing people like them, brought them to research facilities..and now where you standing right in their hiding place.

Staring at Junmyeon, the supposed leader of the whole ordeal, you realized you had seen him before. The hair and lips which arched. It was the soldier you saw a time which seemed so far away, the soldier Yixing had stopped you from following. He knew..he knew all the time.

Tags: @shesdreaminginoverdose​