Look What Was Waiting For Me When I Got Home From Work…Captain America: Civil War Art Book!!! It Is

WHY WRITERS ARE HUMAN CATS:

always napping

will hiss if disturbed

kinda introverts 

but also crave attention

What the hell is even going on this week…?

Star Wars fans are up in arms about the… well, questionable decisions made in Rise Of Skywalker. It did, however, have the strange and almost unprecidented effect of uniting shippers and antis against a common enemy (JJ).

The film adaptation of Cats was not so divisive… but holy cow… what the… I mean… what.

Misha Collins had hip replacement surgery for dysplasia.

J.K. Rowling messed up big time, causing thousands of people to claim that Hatsune Miku is the actual author of the Harry Potter series.

The conservative-heavy U.K. Parliament backed a deal for Brexit to go through at the end of January.

An asteroid three times as tall as the Great Pyramid of Giza just scraped by our planet.

Donald Trump was impeached. Only he wasn't? Or he was, but might not be? Or he is and probably won't be removed from office? Or he will be removed from office and we'll end up with Pence as president instead? Or Pence won't become president, because Trump's entire cabinet goes with him? What is going on?

In other "presidential" news, after Greta Thunberg was named Time Magazine's Person Of The Year, Trump's 2020 campaign Twitter account posted a picture of the magazine cover with Trump's face pasted over Greta's.

There was a reported Wawa data breach that exposed customer credit / debit card numbers, expiration dates, and cardholder names at potentially all their store gas pumps and registers.

The private information of over 267 million Facebook users was reportedly exposed online.

India is in turmoil over a controversial citizenship law.

But also…

The Democratic debate was a mostly-civil affair.

Germany banned "conversion therapy" for minors.

The FDA has issued approval for an ebola vaccine.

Scientists in Brazil have successfully 3-D bio-printed a functioning human mini-liver.

Sebastian Stan modeled for Men's Health Magazine (and the internet melted).

It was discovered that the US government has listed the fictional nation of Wakanda as a trade partner.

NASA has confirmed the existence of a new class of planets called "super-puffs," which have the density of cotton candy.

Virginia biochemist, Camille Schrier, was crowned Miss America after putting on a lab coat and giving "a colorful chemistry demonstration of the catalytic decomposition of hydrogen peroxide" onstage.

…

I mean, what is going on here? It's like 2019 forgot to do a bunch of stuff, so now it's piling it all up at the end and shoving it at 2020 like

The Lie of Windhaven | Azriel x reader [Part 2]

The Lie of Windhaven [Masterlist] here!

Summary: Azriel has dragged her into a mess she now has to do her best to survive. People show their true colours, and others drop a name.

A/N: I did iiiit!! And we can all thank @bellaskhakhiskirt for the extra encouragement that had me finish this tonight haha. Thank you guys so so much for all your sweet comments on part 1!! I got a bit overwhelmed replying to everything, so just know that I read them all (sometimes multiple times a day) and they make me so happy! 🥹🫶

Word count: 4222

Warnings: language, canon typical violence and ✨misogyny✨, brief description of SA and physical abuse

-

Previously:

“I have the right to demand her hand,” Azriel said, and her brows twitched closer together at his choice of words.

“I beg your pardon?”

The right?

Devlon swivelled around, furious that Azriel hadn’t yet dropped the discussion.

Elas scoffed. “Oh yeah? And what right is that?”

Azriel’s eyes met hers then, and the determination she saw reflected within them had her heart drop to her stomach. She knew in that moment what he was planning to do, the lies he planned to weave.

“No,” she breathed again just as Azriel opened his mouth to doom them both.

“She’s my mate.”

And just like that, every head within hearing distance turned to look at her.

-

A beat of silence.

“No,” Devlon declared. “Absolutely not.”

Azriel held her gaze for a moment longer, as though willing her to play along, but she felt her insides boil with anger as he turned back to look at Devlon, his expression as collected as ever.

“Are you questioning the Cauldron?”

She knew what he was doing. The mating bond was held above all else—untouchable by any rules or previous alliances. If Azriel officially claimed her as his mate, no other male in the camp would dare touch her, and no engagement, betrothal or marriage would stand.

A fine plan in theory, only there was one problem.

It was a lie.

And to impersonate a mating bond …

Devlon had killed for far less.

The warlord’s attention still lay on her and she could see every last bit of his hatred burn bright as day in the black pits of his eyes.

“There’s no way she’s your mate,” Elas said, a deep crease between his brows as he, too, continued to look at her as though the answer would be found on her face. “She would not have accepted my proposal if she was.”

“She did not know,” Azriel said. “The bond only snapped in place for me when I saw her in the dining hall last night. It caught me off guard.”

“She cannot possibly be your mate,” Devlon said, his voice low and menacing, his eyes boring into hers.

“She is standing right here.”

Silence fell at her words. Silence so all-consuming, one could have heard a twig snap in the forest bordering on the camp’s north side.

Y/N regretted her words almost instantly, the look in Devlon’s eyes cold enough to kill, but part of her eased when she felt a presence in her back, tall enough to cast a long shadow. She didn’t need to turn around to know that it was Cassian. She could tell from Azriel’s lack of a reaction.

She hadn’t even noticed him rounding the courtyard from where he’d stood on the opposite end, but she was thankful for his presence, shielding her not only from some of the stares but also from Devlon’s immediate wrath.

“You want to be part of this conversation?” Devlon growled through barely parted teeth. “Fine. Be part of it. Come here, now.”

She did her best to maintain the slippery grip on her composure as she bridged the last remaining steps setting her apart from the three men. Cassian remained where he was, and she felt the distance grow like she was swimming further away from a safe shore and straight into shark infested waters.

Devlon never took his eyes off her, and when she stood close enough to their little group, she felt like she was shrinking beneath his calculating gaze.

“Did you know of this supposed bond?”

Her teeth clenched briefly, and in her mind, she cursed Azriel for dragging her—dragging them both into this situation.

“No, my lord.”

“And you accepted Elas’ proposal earlier today?”

“Yes, my lord.”

He hummed. “And this new … revelation,” he stated with a quick glance at Azriel. “You do not share the shadowsinger’s sentiments? You do not feel a mating bond?”

Her mouth clapped shut. What was she supposed to say to that? Of course she didn’t feel a bond. She didn’t feel it because it did not exist, but admitting to it would cost Azriel big time.

They wouldn’t kill him—he was too precious for that—but they’d punish him by punishing everyone he loved. And they’d start with Cassian.

He was powerful too, sure—powerful enough to receive seven Siphons of his own. But they didn’t adorn his armour yet, and he was neither a shadowsinger nor a future High Lord, which left him unprotected amongst his brothers.

“As of right now,” she began, her eyes flickering to Azriel for only a second. “No, my lord.”

“It did not yet snap in place for her,” Azriel said, and for the first time, a note of tension crept into his words. “Which means she cannot yet feel it. Surely, you’re aware of the technicalities, Devlon?”

“Don’t condescend to me, boy,” Devlon snapped. “I will have you whipped no matter how many shadows you wield.”

Silence settled once again, and after a long, tense pause, Devlon straightened his back, crossing his arms behind it.

“I want proof.”

Azriel remained quiet.

It was Elas who spoke next.

“You cannot mean to entertain this nonsense, my lord,” he said, his voice hard as he stared Azriel down. “She has agreed to marry me. I have her friends to bear witness.”

“Be that as it may, another has laid claim to her,” Devlon said, his mouth twisted as though every word tasted bitter on his tongue. “The mating bond must be honoured, no matter how … unfortunate a match. You will wait to wed her until I have something to either prove or disprove the existence of this bond.”

“What do you mean, proof?” Y/N said, hesitance in her words. “How would one go about proving a mating bond?”

The smile Devlon gave was cruel, and before she knew it, his hand had shot forward to wrap tightly around her arm, dragging her close enough for his breath to hit her face with the words he spoke next.

“It would do you good to remember your place, girl. You address me properly or I will have you stripped bare for a good lashing,” he growled low enough for his words to hum through her very bones. “Proof means proof. If this godsforsaken bond was real, you’d know how to prove it. For starters, our dear shadowsinger over here would feel everything you felt.” His eyes flickered to Azriel, though his grip remained bruising on her arm. “Perhaps we should test the theory right now?”

A blade flashed in his hand—one she hadn’t noticed him draw from the sheath by his hip.

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw ticked. “Cutting her will prove nothing.”

“Maybe not,” Devlon said, straightening where he stood, though his hand remained where it was. “But slitting her throat will do wonders to rid us of this little disturbance.”

“I leave for three days, and you start threatening to slit people’s throats, Devlon?” a new voice drawled, sounding almost bored.

Y/N’s eyes flickered to the side, and a wave of relief crashed over her at the sight of Rhysand standing next to Cassian. If there was one person who’d manage to get them all out of this unscathed, it was Rhys.

His wings were out, hands buried in the pockets of his pants, head tilted as he took in the scene before him. “I take it your news have not been received well, Azriel?”

The relief she felt dropped to her stomach like a stone.

Azriel remained silent, his attention resting on her.

“You knew of this?” Devlon’s eyes were ablaze as he stared at Rhys.

“Well, of course,” Rhysand said, sighing softly through his nose. “What part of ‘I can see into people’s minds’ has you baffled?”

A quiet snort sounded from the remaining crowd of onlookers, and Devlon’s face twisted with rage.

“I’m warning you now, boy,” he growled. “You might be the High Lord’s son, but he’s given me permission to treat you as I would any other soldier, so you watch your—”

“Fascinating,” Rhys drawled, picking a piece of lint from the cuff of his leathers. “But be that as it may, I can attest to the validity of this bond.”

She would throttle him.

Her eyes flickered back to Azriel and the calm gaze he kept on her.

She would throttle them both.

There was not the slightest hint of a doubt that somehow Azriel had managed to get Rhys on board with this moronic plan. Which meant that not only had he endangered her, but he’d also endangered his friends. Because if Rhys knew, she was willing to bet what little money she had that Cassian knew as well.

“He’s the shadowsinger’s friend,” Elas spat, features taut. “Of course he would say that.”

Devlon finally let go of her arm, though it was only so he could lift his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I want you all out of my sight.” He growled.

“But, my lord, I—”

“Now,” Devlon snapped, shooting Elas a look that had his mouth clap shut at once. “You will not wed her until I say so. I require proof I can trust.”

It was Azriel who spoke next. “And what would adequate proof entail if the word of a daemati does not suffice?”

Devlon looked at him for a long while then. As though contemplating whether to cut out his tongue for daring to speak.

“I shall have a high priestess give her assessment.”

Once again, the blood ran cold in her veins.

No one in the entirety of Prythian knew bonds quite as well as the priestesses did. They would be able to sniff out a lie from a mile away.

“I will send for one first thing tomorrow morning and until she arrives, neither one of you is to wed this one.” His mouth twisted with distaste as he threw her a last withering look before turning to address every Illyrian within earshot. “Now, if I have to repeat myself one more time, I will have you all running lapses until the sun rises tomorrow morning. Get out of my sight!”

Y/N had just turned to catch the wide eyes of Lissa and Malina, her heart pounding, when another hand found her arm. This time, however, it was with the gentle grip of long fingers curling around the back of her elbow.

“Come with me, sweetheart,” Cassian muttered in her ear, and before she knew it, her feet were rushing to catch up with his long strides as he headed straight for the hut at the edge of the camp she knew belonged to Rhysand’s mother.

-

Her eyes were ablaze as Azriel stepped through the door of the hut, her fists clenched by her sides. Cassian stood at the small kitchen counter, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression grim.

Her mouth opened and Azriel knew what to expect.

“How dare you,” she breathed, and his jaw clenched at her tone. “How dare you ruin this for me. He was my one choice, Azriel. My one option.”

“He was not—”

“He was!” she snapped, her voice gaining in volume, her brows pinched in rage. “And even if he wasn’t, he was who I chose. You took away my choice and in doing so you practically guaranteed my death. I never would have thought you to be so cruel.”

“Cruel?” Azriel gaped at her. “I am doing this to help you.”

“I never asked you to!” Her voice began to wobble now, her eyes growing glassy, though her cheeks remained dry. “In fact, I explicitly recall telling you that we were over.”

“So you expected me to sit back and watch him turn you into an empty shell? A womb to be filled?” Azriel’s voice was of calm disbelief, his mask carefully locked in place to hide the burning anger that threatened to swallow him whole.

“Well, now you get to watch Devlon slit my throat once the priestess tells him that this bond is a load of bullshit, so thank you for that.” She laughed without an ounce of joy. “I hope you’re happy with that outcome.”

“He won’t kill you.”

“He will. In case you didn’t notice, he almost killed me today.”

“I won’t let that happen.”

“You are not my knight in shining armour just because I let you fuck me a couple times, Azriel,” she spat, the fury now bright as day in the depths of her eyes, and Azriel swallowed at the impact of her words.

Silence settled—silence thick enough it threatened to drown him—and as he stared at her, he could see it all. He saw the deeply rooted fear in her eyes, the anger he’d caused, the desperation in the face of a bleak future, and he took a step back.

“I know,” he spoke quietly.

“Do you?” She stared at him. “Because I don’t think you do, or you wouldn’t have gone and invented a fucking mating bond.”

When Azriel remained quiet, she rubbed angrily at the tear that had escaped her left eye to trail down her cheek at last.

“I need to go,” she muttered, walking around him in an arch as big as the room allowed to head for the door. “I need to speak to Elas. I need to apologise.”

Every part of him screamed to stop her from leaving. He didn’t want her anywhere near Elas and his rage, but he’d done enough for one day. She wouldn’t allow him to touch her right now, wouldn’t listen to his requests, and so he stepped aside and suppressed a flinch as the door fell closed behind her.

A few silent moments ticked by, and when Cassian spoke, his words rang loudly through the silent hut, though his tone was uncommonly gentle.

“Did you think this through, brother?”

A joyless smile twisted the corners of Azriel’s lips. “What do you think?”

-

“Elas, please,” she said, rushing to catch up with the Illyrian’s long strides as he headed for the hut he shared with three other warriors. “I swear I didn’t know Azriel was going to do that. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, I—”

The Illyrian scoffed. “A mating bond, apparently.”

“I didn’t know,” she repeated and hated the way her voice sounded as she did so. No part of her wanted to beg Elas for forgiveness when it was Azriel who’d dragged her into this mess.

She stumbled to a halt when Elas swung around, his eyes ablaze as he loomed over her.

“You didn’t know? Interesting,” he drawled in a tone so unmatching of the fury in his face. “But you are aware that you’ve been fucking him, yes?”

“I—” she broke off, her brows twitching closer together. “We had a … fling, yes. But it was over before I accepted your proposal.”

He stared at her, unblinking, and when her skin began to crawl, she curled her hands into fist by her sides, willing herself not to cower.

“I didn’t think it would matter,” she said matter-of-factly.

“It’s obvious that you didn’t think.” His voice dropped to a hum now, his upper lip curling in distaste. “Don’t assume for one second that I would have asked for your hand if I’d known that—”

“That what?” she hissed, her teeth clenched as she took a step closer, her anger getting the better of her. “That I have a sex life? May I ask how many people you’ve slept with, Elas?”

He moved before she could react, and his knuckles where sharp as he slapped her across the face with the back of his hand.

She gasped with the impact, her head swivelling to the side, her feet stumbling where she stood, the world around her suddenly swaying. He was on her then, gripping her jaw, forcing her to meet his gaze before she could even think to collect herself, and her hand instinctively shot up to wrap around his wrist for stability. 

His nose was mere inches from hers, his next words a quiet hiss.

“That I’d be marrying a whore.” She felt his breath on her face, her jaw aching beneath the hard grip of his hand. But she held his gaze with quiet defiance. “I allowed you to keep your wings intact because I thought you knew where your priorities lie. I thought we had an agreement. We could have been good together. We could have been content.”

He took a deep breath through his nose and for a brief moment, she wondered whether he could smell the fear she so desperately tried to suppress.

“I shall still wed you once this nonsense is dealt with, but do not expect a marriage from me. You’ll do for carrying my offspring, but I have no desire to give a good life to another’s fuck toy.”

She felt her throat clog up, doing everything to will back the tears that threatened to shoot to her eyes.

“I was wrong about you,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “You’re just like the others. And I’d rather die than marry you.”

Elas hummed, and when the corners of his lips curled into a little smirk, her heart sank further.

“I’m guessing your chances of dying are pretty good once Devlon has proof that this bond is a scam—which we both know it is,” he said, the words almost sensual as they rolled off his tongue. “But either way, I staked my claim. I have your word, and I have witnesses to prove it. So in the unlikely event of your survival, you shall belong to me.” Lifting the hand he didn’t keep wrapped around her aching jaw, he brushed a strand of hair from her face, the gesture almost gentle. “And what fun I’ll have humiliating you as you have humiliated me.”

His eyes moved to her lips then and she could feel her bottom lip begin to wobble with the harshness of his words and the future they promised.

She noted the way he exhaled through his nose in a quiet scoff, and next thing she knew, horror coursed through her veins as he lowered his mouth to hers.

His fingers pressed deep into her skin, his grip crushing on the bones of her jaw, preventing her from backing away. And when his mouth covered hers and he pried her lips open for his tongue to lick deep into her mouth, she gave a choked sob.

She pulled on his wrist, her hands hitting his shoulders in an attempt to shove him off her, but she was too weak. She was powerless, as she’d never been allowed to train. And suddenly she realised why Illyrian males were so keen on keeping their women defenceless.

There was nothing gentle in Elas’ kiss; none of the passion she’d felt heating her blood whenever Azriel had kissed her. Elas was demanding—harsh in the way he claimed her mouth and unrelenting in his hold on her jaw.

He tilted her head back, forcing himself closer to her and his tongue deeper into her mouth. His teeth scraped harshly against her lips, and when he finally pulled back, she felt the sting of split skin.

The breath was tearing in and out of her lungs now, and immediately, she clenched her teeth hard enough to hear her jaw give a crunching groan.

Elas hummed again, tilting his head with an eyebrow raised in mockery. “Yes, you’ll certainly do.”

When he finally, finally let go of her, it was with a shove that had her falter where she stood.

Her eyes were burning now. But she wouldn’t cry. Not here, not in front of him.

Elas turned around, and as he headed towards his hut, he threw snide words over his shoulder.

“It’ll be interesting to find out what it is that has the shadowsinger so wrapped up that he’ll risk losing his life over a cunt.”

She stared after him, unable to move as she let his words sink in.

It was ironic, really. In his attempt to spare her from a future he thought as bad as it would get, Azriel had only managed to guarantee her a fate much worse.

It dawned on her then. That she’d spent the rest of her life in agony. She’d spent the rest of her immortal existence utterly miserable. At Elas’ mercy—assaulted, disrespected, alone. All he’d done just then had been a glimpse into the future that awaited her.

A sob tore through her—one she could neither stop nor muffle—and just when she was about to crumble entirely right then and there in the middle of the camp, gentle hands found her arm.

“Not here,” Malina spoke quietly. “Don’t let them see.”

A gentle tug on her arm had Y/N stumble along her friend’s side, until a familiar, dusty scent filled her nostrils.

The supply hut.

Perfect.

Her eyes flickered to the table she’d sat on last night and suddenly she felt the urge to laugh in the face of all the things that had gone wrong in less than twenty-four hours. It would have been hysterical, had it not been so … final.

It was Lissa who brushed loose hair from her face. Her big, round eyes were filled with concern, and at the wetness on her cheeks, Y/N realised that she hadn’t been laughing after all.

“He’s going to make my life a living hell,” she heard herself say, her voice hoarse, her tone dull. Despite the tears streaming down her face, she felt numb. Like her mind had been disconnected from her body.

“We saw,” Lissa spoke quietly, brushing her fingers through her friend’s hair in a soothing manner. “I never would have thought him to be so … vicious.”

Y/N scoffed weakly. Because hadn’t she known him to be a vicious fighter? She realised then that it had been naïve of her to assume he’d be any different when it came to his wife.

“You won’t end up with him,” Malina stated, and she sounded almost sure enough to be convincing. Almost.

“Please stop,” Y/N spoke softly. “I can’t take this irrational confidence from you too. It is futile.”

“Only if your bond to Azriel can be disproven, and the Cauldron never miss—”

“The bond does not exist.” A wave of exhaustion crashed into her as she lowered herself to the edge of the wooden table, lifting her palms to press the heels of her hands over her eyes. Her head was throbbing. She wanted to lie down. “Azriel made it up.”

Silence fell over the dusty little cabin. And it seemed to stretch on forever.

She didn’t want to lift her head, didn’t want to see the horror on her friends’ faces as they realised the true extent of her predicament.

“We’ll have to fake it, then.”

To everyone’s surprise, it was Lissa who’d spoken the words.

“You cannot fake a mating bond,” Y/N muttered.

“Oh, sure you can,” Malina said, and when Y/N lifted her gaze, she shrugged. “Or Azriel would not have attempted it. He’s smart, darling. Smarter than all of us. And he’s obviously trying to help you, so I’d suggest you follow his lead.”

“He went behind my back,” Y/N said, her forehead creasing. “And he ruined every plan I made for myself. For my life.”

“You despised those plans.”

“That doesn’t matter, he—”

“It does matter.” Malina sighed as she propped a hand on her hip. “Look, I get where you’re coming from. But I’m thinking you need to consider your current situation and set your priorities accordingly.”

Y/N lifted a brow. “What?”

“What I’m saying is you need to focus on getting through this first. You can be angry with Azriel later. What’s done is done. There’s no going back so you might as well go with it to try and save yourself instead of wasting time on holding a pointless grudge.”

“She’s right,” Lissa said tentatively, smoothing a warm palm down the length of Y/N’s back as she sank to the table next to her. “She could have said it a little nicer, but she’s right.”

Malina snorted.

“And besides, you only need to convince one person, how hard can that be?” Malina waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I’ve always been convinced the priestesses fake it anyway.”

“There are only twelve, right?” Lissa asked.

“Yes, and Devlon sent for one he can trust to be impartial.” Malina scoffed. “You can say what you want about him but when it comes to the mating bond, he really doesn’t fuck around. He’ll have her flown in and all.”

That caught Y/N’s attention. Having a priestess flown in meant that she was too far to winnow.

“She doesn’t reside in the Night Court?.”

Malina tilted her head, a glint in her eyes. “You’re trying to steal his prized shadowsinger, of course he’s going to get someone that couldn’t have been bribed by Azriel or his brothers.”

Y/N lifted a brow at her friend. “You heard him say all that?”

“Oh, yeah,” Malina said, and a smirk stretched over her face. “You’d be surprised what they let you hear when they think you’re of next to no use to anyone.”

Y/N sighed through her nose and let her face sink back into her open palms, wincing at the tenderness of her jaw. She could feel the slight swelling of her cheekbone, a smudge of blood landing on her hand where she held it pressed to her lip.

Lissa’s interest seemed piqued at Malina’s words. “I thought most of the priestesses lived in the Night Court,” she said, curiosity in her tone. “Where is he flying her in from?”

“I forgot.” Malina waved her hand again. “Some super spiritual priestess temple. I heard him say that she’s their newest member. Ianthe, I think her name was.”

-

Taglist Part I:

@byyalady @tele86 @illyrianbitch @sleepylunarwolf @justrepostandlove @starriestarlight @tele86 @waytoomanyteenagefeels @ryekoo @azriel-shadowsingerr @amygdtjhddzvb @ohhellotherebumblebee @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @astarlitsoul @amysangel @fxckmiup @ruler-of-hades @whitewolfsbitch @threespacemonkeys @mell-bell @sillysillygoose444 @quiettuba @itsswritten @brujitafantomatico @badpvn @justrepostandlove @of-outerspace @bakananya @iamjimintrash @starseedsamurai @balsalmic-vinegar @secretlyhers @the-spine-of-the-world @lees-chaotic-brain @helloevilmuffins @cinnamonmelody @jediknightjana @acourtof-wingspan @nxgh1 @aactuaaltraash @marigold-morelli @thatsassyhufflepuff @darlingbravebelle @anxious-study @thisisew @that-one-little-soybean @brieflyclassymortal @isa1b2h3 @julesofvolterra @prettylittlewrites @i-am-infinite @thecraziestcrayon @spellbinding-snoozles

Bring Me To My Knees (Pt. 3)

Summary: Bucky accidentally demolishes your house. With nowhere else to go, you move in with him. 

Prologue [1] [2] 

Warnings: minor Civil War spoilers, a teeny bit of angst 

Word count: 2000 

 A/N: Let me know how this chapter is! It’s a lot more mellow than the other ones but I hope you guys like it the same ^^  Happy reading~

Tagging: @pleasecallmecaptain @waitingfortherightpartner @procrastinatingvirgo @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic @inhyoungchan @plzstoptalkingnow

He doesn’t know what he expected, but when Bucky woke up you weren’t in the fort beside him. And sure, he definitely hoped you would be (so he could squeeze a few extra minutes of you in his arms before he had to go on pretending like every sideways glance didn’t send his chest throbbing) but maybe it was better this way.

It was definitely better this way.

Bucky found you sitting on the kitchen counter, sifting through the folder he recognized from the day before.

“What’s that?” He nodded to the papers in your hands.

“Morning to you too.” You grumbled jokingly, to which Bucky rolled his eyes and walked over to the fridge to find some breakfast.

“It’s - well it’s gonna sound really weird if I tell you.” You closed the file and put it on the counter beside you, swinging your legs around to face Bucky.

“You’re not reading up on my 30’s days to try and see what type of girls I like, are you? ‘Cause I can promise you fit that profile just fine.” Again with the flirting; Bucky wanted to shudder.

“Definitely not.” You laughed, which, in hindsight, was worth his awful attempt at a pickup line.

“So then what? It can’t be that bad.” You shrugged, waiting for him to come out from behind the open fridge door. He pulled out a jar of marmalade and yanked a loaf of bread out from a cupboard smoothly, almost like a dance. It was nice seeing Bucky move like he was sure of himself, the only other time it happened was when he fought.

“Okay, fine.” You huffed, turning your eyes to the hem of your shirt and playing with it. “So you obviously know about my powers, the whole electromagnetic wave thing?” Bucky made a noise to say he did.

“Well I found out about it because of a fight with my family. One second I was furious and the next no one in the room remembered who I was.” You rubbed your arm awkwardly, a little too worried to glance up at Bucky.

“That’s when Fury found me, and I thought it would just be easier to let them live without me. But I don’t want to live without them, so I have Maria keep track of them from time to time. This is just the newest report.” You tapped on the thick beige paper and chanced a look at your roommate.

Bucky was frowning, not in an ‘I feel bad that you’re so weird’ way but in an 'I know exactly how that feels’ way. He knew what it was like to wake up one day and not have anyone to go to. He also knew what it was like having your memories erased, and he wished he could do something to help your family recover them.

“I’m sorry,” He placed his flesh hand on your thigh and rubbed comfortingly, thoughtlessly. “how are they doing?”

You gave him a small smile and flicked open the cover, sharing pictures and cliff notes on their lives with him. Bucky should’ve been looking at the file, he kept telling himself to just take your eyes off her, you can’t pull her into a hug. And he really wanted to hold you close and make sure you really were okay, because he’s seen sad eyes like those before and he hated when you were sad. If he could do anything to make you feel better - hug you, braid your hair, cook for you, force your family to remember you, hell he’d go back in time and stop it from happening if you’d asked him to - he’d do it all without hesitation.

“My sister’s pregnant!” You smiled wide but Bucky could see the tears building up. He thought that’s what he would be doing too, if he had news of his sisters back with Hydra. He squeezed your knee and smiled back; he couldn’t do much, but sometimes you said happiness was contagious, so maybe he could make you feel better with this.

“Congratulations.” He stopped his hand from reaching up to cup your cheek, swallowing the action down like Asgardian ale.

—-

“Tony you moron, I told you to go right!” You could hear Tony snicker into the comm, if he weren’t 400 feet above ground you’d be ready to punch him.

“You know, you’re really good at this directions thing Y/N, wanna voice my GPS too?” You nearly growled as you watched the monitor in front of you, seeing the little blip that was Tony turning around and making a right.

“A little help might be nice, if you two’re done bickering.” Nat called in, probably busy kicking more ass than Tony had all week.

“He’s on his way. Buck you’ve got incoming, the door to your 6.” You announced, following the small bundle of dots as they moved in on Bucky.

You worked the comms more often than not, only because your power wasn’t a pick and choose type thing. If you used your powers around your team mates they’d be out just as fast as the bad guys, so you either worked by yourself or took charge of behind the scene orders like you were now.

“Got 'em. Where to next?” He asked with a grunt.

“Northeast. There’s a room connected to the one you’re in now.” You watched him walk towards the sectioned off area on your blueprint.

“There’s no door, you sure this is it?”

“Yep, get in there soldier.” Someone on the line was snickering again. Tony.

There was a huge smash - Bucky’s fist through the wall - and he was in.

“What’s in there?” You asked, watching Bucky’s dot on the screen ping in the same place for a solid minute.

“Bucky?” No one made a sound. You couldn’t even hear him breathe, it was like someone hit pause.

Because he couldn’t move, couldn’t make a sound. His heart was hammering and pictures of everything were flashing like cameras on the red carpet.

“желание” It started, heavy boots echoing in his memories.

“ржаветь” He could taste the blood in his mouth, seeping from his tongue just after being wiped again.

“семнадцать” He flexed his fingers, made a tight fist, flexed again. The cryo made it hard to move, the cold breeze in the room wasn’t helping.

“рассвет” His breath was shaky, a product of his reluctance to lose control.

And then it was your voice, saying his name. Bucky, not Soldat, not Winter Soldier, and suddenly it was easier to shake off the flashbacks.

One blink and his superior was gone. Two and the straps hugging his wrists disappeared. On the third he was back in the Hydra Base with Nat, Tony, and most importantly, you.

“Ready to comply.” He growled lowly, tearing the red journal that started his trip down memory lane off of its pedestal and stuffing it into his pocket.

“Barnes what’s your status?” You were clearly on edge, worried that something happened to him and whatever it was hadn’t registered on your screen.

“We’re good to go.” His voice was strained, gruff, but he was trying to make it sound casual. Trying to pretend like he wasn’t a loaded gun ready to go off at the sound of a couple words. Trying not to think that whoever got a hold of the scarlett book in his pocket would also have a hold on him.

“What happened back there?” Nat met him in an empty hall on their way out of the building, having been sent by you to figure out what went wrong.

“Nothing, I took down the wall and grabbed the book.” Bucky shrugged, walking a little faster to try and avoid the conversation.

“It took you five minutes to break down some drywall?” She asked, not falling for the lie for a second.

“No, but my comm shorted and I didn’t wanna do anything stupid like wander around without eyes on the place.”

Natasha sighed, sure that he wasn’t telling her everything but knowing he wouldn’t speak to her unless he really wanted to. Bucky was more stubborn than a mule, surprisingly, he was more stubborn than she was.

Bucky kept his mouth shut for the remainder of the trip.

—-

It was late. Dark enough outside to need a flashlight if you wanted to stray from the streets. Bucky was almost 100 percent sure you were asleep, and he was more than 100 percent sure that he should be too, but he couldn’t.

Every time he closed his eyes all he saw was red; the leather of the notebook, the sticky liquid that used to drown his hands, the colour that clouded his vision when they handed him a rifle and told him the name of another target, another victim.

He guessed it really wasn’t much of a surprise that you were awake, because his pacing in the living room did seem a little louder than he would’ve cared to be under other circumstances. He didn’t even notice your head peaking out of the bedroom door until his name left your lips - soft and sweet and totally undeserving of that caring tone.

He stopped in his tracks, flicking his eyes to yours for a second before averting them right back to the couch. His jaw was clenched, but he forced out a smile.

“You’re up real early.” He joked, strained. You frowned and tiptoed out of the room, eyes watching him so softly he would’ve thought you were admiring a sleeping puppy. Your hand ran over his arm, rubbing some of his anxiety out with your touch.

“What’s going on Buck?” He swallowed, taking a second to appreciate how his thoughts were dissipating with your presence.

“What do you mean?” He was hardwired to avoid answering questions, he really couldn’t help it.

“You know what I mean.” You sighed, but looked up at him patiently all the same. “What happened today?”

Bucky clenched his jaw again, he didn’t want to think about the words or the book or the assholes who made him do all those things. He didn’t want to remember.

“All it takes is ten words for me to lose control. Ten little words and someone’s life is over. Ten words and I have another memory that I don’t want to live with.” You were tangling your fingers with his now, lightly pulling him to the kitchen behind you. You sat him down on the counter, your favourite seat, and pushed some of his hair behind his ear softly.

“We have the book now Buck, no one’s gonna use those words on you again.” You reassured, fingers lingering against his skin for added comfort.

“We don’t know that. SHIELD was compromised before, they might even do it themselves if there’s an enemy you can’t beat. I can’t trust anyone with those words Y/N, I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.” He looked so broken, so worried and you couldn’t take it. Your hand cupped his cheek and pulled his forehead down so it leaned against yours. The intimacy seemed to help prove the dedication in your next sentence.

“I won’t let that happen. I promise Bucky, no one’ll ever use those words against you ever again.”

It was quiet for a while. Bucky couldn’t tell how long you stayed like that, eyes glinting with your stern promise and your nose just about touching his. All he knew was that when you pulled away he believed you.

“Now, how about some hot chocolate?” You twisted and pulled out a pot from under the stove. Bucky watched you with the hint of a smile, think about how much he lucked out with you. And God he loved you, more than he thought he’d ever love anything.

“Thank you.” It felt like he was thanking you for more than the hot mug you’d just placed in his hands. You smiled as warmly as the steaming milk in his cup and ruffled his hair.

“Anytime.”

A/N: Okay, so I might have a slight obsession with Bucky being with kids but alas, the obsession continues… 

“Ugh, why won’t you stop crying?” I growled in frustration. The howling infant stopped for a second and looked up at my anguished expression. I thought that it had done the trick. He had stopped crying. I breathed a sigh of relief, but it was premature. He began to wail again and I was at a loss. It went without saying that I knew nothing about parenting or child care but when the owner of the diner where I worked asked me to babysit her four-month old baby for a week I jumped at the opportunity; simply because I needed the money.

I inspected the baby’s diaper and fed him but still he wouldn’t shut up. I didn’t know what else to do. It was only the first night and I was already losing my mind.

No amount of money could be worth this hell!

There was a hard knock on my front door. I assumed it was one of the residents of the building, coming over to complain about the screaming child at 11pm; probably that old hag Gertrude from the apartment upstairs. If it was her, I was going to give her an earful about how I never complained whenever she practiced for her irritating tap-dance class. I cracked open the door and peeked out,

“Can I help you?” I asked the man standing in the hallway. I had never seen him before.

“Look, I’m not trying to be an asshole but could you please keep your kid quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep here.” He wasn’t being rude and from the look of it, he really needed his sleep.

“Listen, buddy, I don’t appreciate you coming over here to…” The baby began to cry louder and drowned out my voice. Maybe he had a point. “…okay, I will see what I can do.” I sighed and the man smiled kindly before.

When I shut the door, the baby began to cry louder. I pressed my back against the wood of the door and sank to the floor, sobbing helplessly. Another knock, softer this time. “I said I will see what I can do!” I spat as I swung the door open. It was the same man as before. I wiped away my tears with the back of my hand and took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked as I sniffled and folded my arms across my chest. “I don’t mean to upset you but have you tried holding him?” I stepped aside and gestured for him to enter the apartment,

“be my guest. I can’t take this anymore!” The man looked hesitant, at first. He furrowed his brows and looked as if he was thinking deeply about what to do. “Well?” I asked expectantly and he stepped inside.

“Your apartment is really hot!” He complained as he removed his jacket. The shirt he wore underneath was long-sleeved as well.

“Yeah, the heat regulator is broken and I can’t afford to get it fixed just yet.” I confessed as I shut the door.

He pressed one knee onto the edge of the bed and unwrapped the blanket from around him as he lifted him into his arms with the gentlest touch; he was clearly afraid to the fragile infant. The baby curled into his body into the man’s arm and eventually stopped crying all together. “Wow, you’re really good at that.” I smiled as I watched him rock the baby back and forth slowly.

“See? He just wants to be loved.”

“Don’t we all?” I chuckled and the man smiled tightly. “You got a name?” It probably wasn’t a smart move to invite a man I didn’t know into my apartment. For all I knew, he could have been a mass-murderer. The man raised his head slowly before answering,

“Bucky.” I thought it was an odd name. I hadn’t met many men named ‘Bucky’ but I didn’t point that out. “You look a little young to be a mom; what’s his name?” He asked, wrapping his left arm around the baby’s leg. It was the first time I noticed that his fingers were metal.

“Err… he’s not my kid and his name is Christopher.” If he had any more questions, Bucky didn’t ask them. “Did you lose your arm in the war?” My curiosity got the better of me and I had to ask.

“Something like that.”

“Yeah, which one?” I placed my hand on his bicep, lightly. This guy was an all-round hero. He served his country, was great with kids and not that bad looking either.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I was about to ask him to tell me more but he handed little Christopher back to me and grabbed his jacket from the chair. “I should get going, good luck with everything.” It was almost like my apartment was on fire and he needed to get out.

“Will I ever see you again, Bucky?” I didn’t want to come off too strong or too hopeful either. Bucky stopped in the doorway and looked at me over his shoulder.

“Maybe, one day.”  

Unfortunately, one day never came.

TLOU2 and the Stages of Grief

To begin, here’s a quick crash course into the 5 Stages of Grief. 

There are five stages of grief; Denial & Isolation, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Although these are the identified stages, they are not experienced the same for everyone. People experience them occurring in different orders, experience each stage to different degrees, and in some cases people don’t experience all of the stages. Often times people in real life experience these stages without full completion due to how quickly the world moves and the responsibilities that society has put on an individual. Throughout the whole process, our own feelings and thoughts of mortality is brought up. But there is a common thread in each of the stages and that is Hope. While you may have lost someone you are still alive and there is hope that you will continue to live, or in some cases just survive.

Now that we’ve covered some basics to the 5 Stages of Grief, let’s really get into it in regards to The Last of Us Part II. There will be spoilers ahead.

Keep reading

REBLOG IF YOU HAVE STRETCHMARKS

This way girls and boys can see they’re not alone. I have them and this would help me see that.

Take Time to Realize (Part 1 of 2)

Request: They are best friends and the reader likes Bucky but he doesn’t like her and when she confesses it’s like one of those ‘you never know what you have until it’s gone’. After that Bucky realizes his feeling for the reader.

Word Count: 2,758

Warnings: Angst.

Music Inspiration: Colbie Caillat’s Realize

A/N: Hope you like it, @kmwiinchester! Let me know what you all think of this :) 

Bucky strides into your room with a bag of chips in his hands, sitting on your bed and nudging your side. You give him an annoyed look. “What do you want?”

“I just want my best friend back,” he grins.

“Yeah, well, I’m doing something right now,” you answer, typing your report out as fast as you can. It was due in a few hours and you still had to review it and send it to your professor.

“Come on, Y/N!” he whines, laying his head on your shoulder. “I’m busy tonight. And you’ve been working on this for the better part of the week. I miss you, doll.”

Keep reading

Looking for mutuals

What I reblog the most is: • Netflix Marvel (Defenders, Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Iron Fist, Punisher) • Marvel MCU (Including Agent Carter) • DC TV (Arrow, Flash, Supergirl, Legends) • Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire • Yuri!!! on Ice • Sense8 • Lucifer (Fox TV Series) • Wonder Woman • American Gods

I also follow • Katie McGrath • Sebastian Stan • Hayley Atwell

My usual ships are • Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers • Lena Luthor/Kara Danvers • Yuuri Katsuki/Victor Nikiforov

Occasionally I will spam my blog depending on which series I watch at the moment. Like/Reblog if you are interested c: Hate free blog!

Precious Moments

Word Count: 1130

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Remembering precious moments of your pregnancy with Bucky’s child.

Warning: Hella Fluffy

Note: I need more Dad!Bucky in my life

The day you told Bucky that you were pregnant, he cried like a baby because it was one of the most happiest day of his long ass life. You remember that he was on a short mission with Steve and Clint, probably two day long and you found out the day he left. You remember freaking out, in a good way, because you and Bucky have been wanting to start a family together for while. You called Natasha and Wanda right away, seeing as they weren’t on the mission with the boys and they came over as fast as they could too congratulate you.

You remember you had the girls help you prepare this whole thing for when he came home. You had baby balloons all over the place, pink and blue, you had placed one baby book on each table that led to the kitchen and in the kitchen, you had a card written for your husband and little baby booties next to it.

When he entered your house, you heard him set his bags down while his voice boomed. “[Y/N], are you here?” You watched him from a hidden place in the house. You saw him look around the house, looking at the balloons and the books everywhere. His heart was racing at the moment, not knowing what to think. He slowly walked into the kitchen to see what was left for him on the table.

We walked towards the kitchen table and picked up the letter:

Dear James Buchanan Barnes,

You are too become the father to a beautiful baby boy or girl. I had found out the day you left for that stupid mission and ever since, I’ve been waiting to tell you the exciting news. I had the girls come over and help me prepare this whole thing.

I hope you’re ready to become a father. Now, turn around you little shit.

P.S they better have your eyes

He laughed at the last part before turning around to see you leaning against the wall. “Welcome home, Daddy.”

A smile broke on his face as tears formed in his eyes. “Oh my god, [Y/N]!” He ran towards you, wrapped his arms around your waist and twirled you around. He set you down and looked you in the eye, tears streaming down his face. “I can’t believe I’m going to be a father.” He breathed out. He leaned forward to capture your lips into a kiss. “This is the best gift you could have ever given me.” He murmured against your lips only to capture them against his once more.

You remember when you were five months pregnant, you both found out you were having a baby boy. You remember watching Bucky jumped into the air, pumping his arms as he screamed. “Yes!” You just stared at laughed at him with your doctor.

When you got cleaned up and walked out of the room, Bucky had his arm around your waist so he could keep at least one hand on your stomach. The whole time walking back to the car, he kept whispering in your ear with a giddy laugh. “We’re having a boy…” You would just shake your head and respond with a big smile. “I know, Barnes, I know.”

You remember that same night that you found a name for your son, Christian Steven Barnes. You looked down at your joyful husband, having his hands on the sides of your stomach, whispering to your swollen belly. “I’m going to teach you how to walk, talk, ride a bike. How to shoot a gun and-” You gave him a warning glance with he just shrugged off. “All the things you need to know on how to grow up, especially how to woo the girls.” You just rolled your eyes and laughed while bringing your hands to Bucky’s hair and the other on the top of your stomach.

You remember the baby’s first kick. You were sitting in the living room while watching your favorite movie when you felt a kick sharp movement within your swollen belly. You placed a hand over where you felt it and it happened again. A smile broke from your face as you called you husband over from the kitchen. “Bucky, come here!”

You heard him run in with a worried look. “What, is something wrong?” He asked you while walking towards you.

You shook your head, your smile growing larger. “No, give me your hand.” You told him which he complied too by giving you his right hand. You placed his right hand on the side of your belly in which the movement happened again. “He’s kicking.”

Bucky had a shocked look but quickly faded to a similar look you had on your face. “He’s kicking, [Y/N]! Oh my god…” He whispered while moving to crouch in front of you. He placed now both f his hands on the side of your stomach, as he usually does, the small kicks coming every few minutes. “He’s got a strong kick… Like his dad.” He smiled as he started to talk to your unborn child.

You remember when your water broke and how much pain you were in with each contraction. You woke up Bucky with a hard punch. “Huh? What’s wrong? Are you and the baby all right?” His tired voice asked.

“My water broke, Bucky.”

With that sentence said, he jumped out of bed and started getting dress. He came up towards you and helped you into some cleaner pants and a new shirt and helped you hobble down the stairs, grabbing your baby bag and walk towards the car.

With one hand on the steering wheel and the other holding your hand, sadly being his right hand. He had the car you both had call the others, telling them that your water broke and that he would keep everyone updated.

When you reached the hospital, they quickly brought you to a room where you’d be by yourself. Bucky stayed by your side the whole time and he let you hold and crush with left hand instead of his right one. When you were ready too push, the birthing process came easy and quickly and you and both Bucky to have your son, Christian in your arms.

Now, Bucky sat beside you in the hospital bed, you had your head leaned against his shoulder as you held your sleeping son in your arms. You felt Bucky press a kiss to your forehead and whisper so he doesn’t wake up his son. “Thank you for bringing him into the world, [Y/N].”

As you opened your mouth to respond, the door opened to the Avengers, including T'Challa who wanted to see your miracle. “So, where’s the little rascal?”